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“
God
knows
,
”
Mrs
.
Wheatley
was
saying
,
“
God
knows
they
have
to
be
meticulous
about
whom
they
turn
their
charges
over
to
.
You
can
’
t
have
scoundrels
taking
the
responsibility
for
a
growing
child
.
”
Beth
set
her
fork
down
carefully
.
“
May
I
go
to
the
bathroom
,
please
?
”
“
Why
,
certainly
.
”
She
pointed
to
the
living
room
with
her
fork
.
Mrs
.
Wheatley
had
been
holding
the
fork
all
during
lunch
,
even
though
she
had
eaten
nothing
.
“
The
white
door
to
the
left
of
the
sofa
.
”
Beth
got
up
,
squeezed
past
the
piano
that
practically
filled
the
small
dining
room
and
went
into
the
living
room
and
through
its
clutter
of
coffee
table
and
lamp
tables
and
huge
rosewood
TV
,
now
showing
an
afternoon
drama
.
She
walked
carefully
across
the
Orion
shag
carpet
and
into
the
bathroom
.
The
bathroom
was
tiny
and
completely
done
in
robin
’
s
-
egg
blue
—
the
same
shade
as
Mrs
.
Wheatley
’
s
cardigan
.
It
had
a
blue
carpet
and
little
blue
guest
towels
and
a
blue
toilet
seat
.
Even
the
toilet
paper
was
blue
.
Beth
lifted
the
toilet
seat
,
vomited
the
tunafish
into
the
bowl
and
flushed
it
.
*
*
*
When
they
got
to
the
top
of
the
stairs
Mrs
.
Wheatley
rested
for
a
moment
,
leaning
her
hip
against
the
banister
and
breathing
heavily
.
Then
she
took
a
few
steps
along
the
carpeted
hallway
and
dramatically
pushed
a
door
open
.
“
This
,
”
she
said
,
“
will
be
your
room
.
”
Since
it
was
a
small
house
,
Beth
had
visualized
something
tiny
for
herself
,
but
when
she
walked
in
she
caught
her
breath
.
It
looked
enormous
to
her
.
The
floor
was
bare
and
painted
gray
,
with
a
pink
oval
rug
at
the
side
of
the
double
bed
.
She
had
never
had
a
room
of
her
own
before
.
She
stood
,
holding
her
valise
,
and
looked
around
her
.
There
was
a
dresser
,
and
a
desk
whose
orange
-
looking
wood
matched
it
,
with
a
pink
glass
lamp
on
it
,
and
a
pink
chenille
bedspread
on
the
enormous
bed
.
“
You
have
no
idea
how
difficult
it
is
to
find
good
maple
furniture
,
”
Mrs
.
Wheatley
was
saying
,
“
but
I
think
I
did
very
well
,
if
I
do
say
so
myself
.
”
Beth
hardly
heard
her
.
This
room
was
hers
.
She
looked
at
the
heavily
painted
white
door
;
there
was
a
key
in
it
,
under
the
knob
.
She
could
lock
the
door
and
no
one
could
come
in
.
Mrs
.
Wheatley
showed
her
where
the
bathroom
was
down
the
hall
and
then
left
her
alone
to
unpack
,
closing
the
door
behind
her
.
Beth
set
down
her
bag
and
walked
around
,
stopping
only
briefly
to
look
out
each
of
the
windows
at
the
tree
-
lined
street
below
.
There
was
a
closet
,
bigger
than
Mother
’
s
had
been
,
and
a
nightstand
by
the
bed
,
with
a
little
reading
lamp
.
It
was
a
beautiful
room
.
If
only
Jolene
could
see
it
.
For
a
moment
she
felt
like
crying
for
Jolene
,
she
wanted
Jolene
to
be
there
,
going
around
the
room
with
her
while
they
looked
at
all
the
furniture
and
then
hung
Beth
’
s
clothes
in
the
closet
.
In
the
car
Mrs
.
Wheatley
had
said
how
glad
they
were
to
have
an
older
child
.
Then
why
not
adopt
Jolene
?
Beth
had
thought
.
But
she
said
nothing
.
She
looked
at
Mr
.
Wheatley
with
his
grim
-
set
jaw
and
his
two
pale
hands
on
the
steering
wheel
and
then
at
Mrs
.
Wheatley
and
she
knew
they
would
never
have
adopted
Jolene
.
Beth
sat
on
the
bed
and
shook
off
the
memory
.
It
was
a
wonderfully
soft
bed
,
and
it
smelled
clean
and
fresh
.
