Today

“What? What are you doing? Why are you stopping here? The kids… they have to get to soccer. And we have plenty of gas.”

He pulled the car quickly into the one remaining vacant spot and said: “I know, I know… I’ll be right back. I just have to go in for a minute.”

She looked into the back seat rolling her eyes and said: “Sorry guys. Maybe he has to pee.”

A few minutes later, he returned. “Here. I wanted you to have this.” He handed her a small cardboard box with five hot dogs, one for each of them.”

She looked at him, puzzled. “What is… this…?”

He answered: “Happy Anniversary. I just wanted you to know that I love our life, I love our family, I love you. And you are all the most valuable things in the world to me. And you, Vanessa, you are… priceless.”

She looked into his eyes and remembered. And the tears came.

20 Years Ago Today

He asked: “How about you? How many places?”

“I lost count, but if I had to guess, probably seven.”

“Wow, I thought I was bad at four.” Then, pausing to think about that, almost twice as many foster families as he had experienced… he decided to ask her further: “Do you remember your real parents?”

Vanessa didn’t mind his question. She was used to talking about it. “I do. I remember my father. He was indifferent… which was way worse than my mother’s temper. She was always pissed off, but at least she cared.”

There was a pause in the conversation which lingered. She broke the silence: “How about you? Do you remember your parents?”

“No. Never knew them. Drugs. That’s what the lady at Charities told me.” Anthony was enjoying their time together and hoped it wouldn’t be their last. He had been accustomed to quick, jagged-edged relationships, so was always cautious to commit, to invest. But she seemed different. And now that they were old enough, they didn’t have to jump from one family to another, so maybe it could be different this time.

He added: “Regular kids, whenever they meet someone new, talk about tv shows and music and school. Kids like us have to talk about our past, to get that over with. I wish we didn’t have to do that.”

Vanessa appreciated Anthony mentioning this. It was always an unspoken truth and here, now 15 minutes into meeting each other, he put it right out there on the table. She felt relief and then offered: “So, what’s your favorite movie then?”

They both laughed, both understood.

And then, for some reason… knowing they could move off the topic, she decided to take it one step further and share. “Gas station hot dogs.”

Anthony asked: “What…?”

“That’s what my father called us once. My brother and sister and I. Said we were like gas station hot dogs. That you can’t throw us out and that no one really wants us. We just stay there, forever. Always worthless. We never forgot that. The three of us… we’re just gas station hot dogs.”

Anthony, in that moment, looked into Vanessa’s eyes. He felt something. Deeply. Something brand new.

And he knew.