by L. G. McCary
“It’s really a matter of whether you want to fight with them yourself or do your fighting on your knees,” Grace says with a small smile. “Larry will tell you I took a while to learn that.”
“You obviously figured it out,” Tori says.
“God’s grace,” she replies. “When you get to be my age, you’ll look back over all the ways you messed up your kid, and it’s painful, but it’s humbling. I made so many mistakes with Tony. But our God is sovereign.” She takes a sip of coffee. “I’m going to run to the ladies’ room before we start. Can you tell Janet where I’m going?”
“Of course,” Tori says. We all watch her walk to the back of the fellowship hall.
Renee puts her hands to her cheeks. “Oh my gosh, please tell me I didn’t say anything rude!”
“She knows people don’t know what to say,” Tori says.
“How did you know about it?” Renee demands. “I’ve never heard anything about this.”
I have a suspicion there’s a reason Grace hadn’t told Renee, but I bite my tongue.
“I saw her picture in their bedroom,” Tori says simply. “It’s on the wall next to Tony’s newborn photo. You should ask her about it, Charlotte. It’s a powerful testimony.”
“I’d be so worried I’d say something wrong,” I say.
“Debbie’s the one who should be worried about that,” Renee mutters.
Tori holds her head up a little higher. “I don’t think we need to go there, Renee.”
“Grace was mad, girl,” Renee says. “I’ve never seen her mad! That was scary!”
“If she was upset, I’m sure Grace will handle it,” Tori answers, her tone a gentle reprimand. “She’s been friends with Debbie for a long time.”
“They’re coming back from the bathroom,” I interrupt with a cough. In the back of the fellowship hall, Debbie and Grace enter together. Debbie’s eyes are red, but she’s holding Grace’s hand. Grace says something to her, and they both laugh. I watch them both walking back to the front of the room.
Grace grabs her Bible and materials from our table and squeezes Tori’s shoulder gently before going to the stage. I wonder what that is about. Tori won’t meet my eyes as she opens her Bible. Debbie sits and hides behind her Bible and notebook.
Morgan purses her lips, taps on her phone, and puts it away slowly. I feel my own phone vibrate and see a message from Morgan.
That was weird. Is Tori ok?
I look up and shake my head to show Morgan that I’m as confused as she is. Her mouth twitches to the side, and she watches Tori flipping through her Bible.
“Ladies, open your Bibles to Ephesians 4,” Grace says from behind the little podium. “If you missed last week, we’re starting with verse 25. Let’s pray.”
Twenty-Eight
Morgan picks at her plate of fruit and gives me an uneasy smile. I realize I haven’t talked to her without Tori being part of the conversation in months, but Tori is late for Bible study this morning. I check my phone, but she hasn’t replied to my message.
“How did Rylie’s competition go?” Morgan asks.
“She got first in ballet and lyrical. Second in tap.” I suppose a different mom would show her one of the dozens of competition videos currently on my phone.
“She’s in fifth grade now, right?” Morgan asks
“Yes.” I’ll be glad when this year is over. Fifth grade has been miserable, mostly because Rylie’s teacher should have retired years ago.
“I am absolutely loving my new shift at the hospital,” Yvonne says with a smile. “It’s so nice to be off on Tuesdays, so I can come to Bible study with you girls.”
“Finally!” Renee says.
I’m still not used to seeing Yvonne sitting across the table from me next to Renee. I barely remember when they came over for Fourth of July when Rylie was little. I’ve avoided hosting big groups in our house ever since. That was the year I thought I would solve all my problems if we moved to a new house. Then I had a panic attack when I saw my ghost at Tori’s house.
Their whispered conversations make my stomach churn. Everything I don’t like about Renee is amplified when she hangs out with Yvonne. Renee is only too happy to share every secret. It’s made Bible study feel unsafe ever since Yvonne started coming. It’s like a mid-week reminder of how miserable Hannah and Liana are making Rylie in Sunday school. At least Hannah isn’t in Rylie’s class at Fellowship Christian School. Debbie has found a different table this semester so I don’t have her to worry about either.
Tori walks in, smoothing wisps of hair behind her ears. Her mouth smiles, but her eyes don’t match them, and Morgan visibly relaxes. Tori’s hands are shaking as she gets settled.
“Prayer requests?” Renee asks, pen ready on her bright-purple notebook.
“My cousin has some lab tests coming up,” Morgan says.
“Which ones?” Nurse Yvonne asks.
Why did Morgan have to get her started? I wish I could stop my ears while they talk about medical stuff. I bury my head in my phone until they finish.
“How is Rylie doing this week, Charlie?” Renee asks abruptly. “Is she done with detention?”
The sentence feels like I’ve stuck my hand in a mousetrap. I want to glare at Renee, but I drop my gaze to the table and mumble that she’s fine.
“My goodness, what happened?” Yvonne asks.
“She built up too many demerits,” I say. “It was only a half-day. It’s fine.”
Yvonne frowns. “What did she get so many demerits for?”
“It’s lots of little things,” I say. I can’t look at Tori. If her husband wasn’t so critical, Rylie wouldn’t have any demerits at all. She’s only eleven. “She had a growth spurt, and her skirts were a tiny bit short until I could go shopping for new ones. And she lingered too long in the hallway one day. They’ve been pickier about some of the rules lately.”
“I hadn’t noticed any changes,” Yvonne says. Of course she wouldn’t notice. The rules aren’t enforced on her kids. I want to point out this hypocrisy, but I don’t want to hurt Tori’s feelings. Even her picky husband treats the Baileys like they are untouchable.
“Well, it wouldn’t matter if she didn’t sass her teacher...” Renee mutters.
Tori coughs and gives her a look.
“What?” Renee says. “Liana told me!”
Right. Blame your daughter. I’m so angry I could scream, but I keep my face a mask of calm.
“What happened?” Yvonne says to me, pouncing like a cat on yarn. But I can tell she already knows.
“I’d rather not discuss it,” I say.
I want to run away from the table, but who knows what they will say if I leave.
Renee wouldn’t know about any of it if Liana wasn’t in the same class. Liana seems to enjoy telling her mama about every naughty thing Rylie ever does. And then Renee asks me if I know about it. It’s become a weekly question: did you know about this incident caused by your disrespectful, unmanageable child, Charlotte?
I may talk privately to the scheduler about not putting Liana and Rylie in the same class next year. Hopefully the scheduler will give her a nicer teacher next year, too. My daughter has a knack for getting adults to like her, except Greg and her teacher, Mrs. Morgan. I know Rylie has to learn to listen and respect her teacher, but it’s not easy when she’s a crabby old lady with a voice like fingernails on a chalkboard.
I shake myself out of my thoughts and realize Yvonne is in the middle of her own prayer requests.
“Hannah got a solo in the choir, and it looks like she may play her violin in the winter concert, too. Oh, and pray for her with the scripture contest coming up. She’s finishing up 2 Timothy.”
“The whole thing? Hannah is a machine!” Renee exclaims.
Tori is staring at her Bible, unnaturally quiet. I squeeze her hand under the table, and she gives me a sad smile.
“Tor, what’s up with you lately?” Renee says. “I heard Greg’s engineering presentation went great wit
h the elementary school. Liana said he built an impossible bridge!” She stops when she sees Tori’s face fall.
“I was cleaning up a big mess just before I left, so I’m sorry I’m late.” Tori’s lower lip quivers. “My china cabinet fell over. My grandmother’s china is gone.”
“I’m so sorry, Tori,” Yvonne says. “Can any of it be salvaged?”
“No, it’s all gone.” She’s tearing up, and I give her a soft hug. “It’s all I had of hers,” she whispers.
“How did it fall?” Renee says, her mouth wide.
“I’m not sure,” Tori answers. She purses her lips and looks at her Bible. “It’s an antique, and I guess one of the legs was cracked and just gave way.”
The other ladies are talking at once, asking how it happened, where it was, and if there is anything they can do. I keep hugging her.
“It was Grandma Patty’s, right?” I say. She nods. I’m heartbroken for her. Her grandmother passed before she went to college and didn’t leave much behind. She’s treasured those dishes. I know exactly which piece of furniture she means. It’s a tall white wooden cabinet against the wall in her front room.
All I can think about through class is that china cabinet. I’m so worried about Tori. I can hardly even take notes. Finally it ends, and I tap her arm.
“You want to see Rylie’s new costume?” I ask her. “It’s in my car.”
“Oh, yes, please!” Tori grabs her purse and is ready to leave even before I am.
“I hope Rylie’s week gets better,” Yvonne says a little too loudly as Tori and I leave the table.
“I’m sure it will,” I say, smiling a smile that I’m sure looks as fake as Monopoly money.
We walk to the car without speaking. I’m glad I parked so far out for extra exercise. No one will see us on the back row. I open the trunk to show her the new red leotard.
“It’s really pretty, Charlotte,” she says, her smile anemic.
“What happened, Tori? Please tell me.”
Her eyes fill with tears, and she sits on the edge of the car trunk. “Can you…” She shudders and sobs, unable to speak for a few minutes. I sit next to her and hug her tight. “Can you keep a secret?”
“Of course I can!” I say, squeezing her shoulder. “You know I can. Please tell me.”
She nods and takes a deep breath. “Greg doesn’t want me telling anybody, but I have to tell you. I had…I got pregnant last year, but I lost it. I lost the baby, Charlotte.”
I have no words for her. Instead, I hug her tight and cry.
“We were so happy. I was going to make a blanket from that yarn, remember?” she asks. I nod, remembering his proposal. “I started making it, and I had everything bought for this cute announcement about God starting a new knitting project. But I started bleeding.” She chokes on her tears and buries her head in her hands.
“I’m so sorry. I’m just so sorry.” I say. I’m desperate for better words, but I have none.
“It got worse, and I had these horrible cramps. And when I went in, the doctor told me there was no…” She covers her mouth with one hand.
“No heartbeat.” I finish for her. “When did this happen?” How did I not see Tori’s pain sooner?
“In August, right after school started,” she says. “Remember that day we went to lunch?”
“At the café?” That was over a year ago. My heart hurts knowing how long she has kept this to herself.
“I started bleeding that afternoon,” Tori says. “You were the first one I was going to tell besides our parents. I had my ultrasound to show you, but I just didn’t feel right about it. And then…”
No wonder Greg seemed so excited about me going to lunch with Tori.
“I still have it,” she whispers. “I keep it in my purse.”
She rummages in her purse and carefully removes a piece of paper from a zipped pocket. She hands it to me, and I unfold it to see a fuzzy outline of a head and hands. I search for words that aren’t platitudes, but I can’t find any. Instead, I hug Tori and cry.
“I wanted to tell you, Charlotte,” Tori says. “Grace told me I should, but Greg was so private about it.”
“You told Grace?” I say. Then my heart aches in my chest. “Is that why she got so mad at Debbie?”
“I was helping her redesign her bedroom and saw her picture of Kelly.” She digs through her purse for a tissue and wipes her eyes. “I lost it crying and had to tell her. Greg didn’t want me to tell anyone, but I had to.”
We sit on the edge of the trunk and let the tears fall. I don’t understand why Greg wouldn’t want anyone to know, but maybe he’s private about grief. Suddenly I remember the china cabinet.
“But what about the cabinet?”
“Oh, that,” Tori groans. Anger flashes through her for a moment, and she cries into her hands. “It must have been a crack in the leg. It just fell over.”
She looks me in the eyes and breathes in a slow deep breath. She wants to tell me more. I can see it. I squeeze her shoulder, and she jumps a little, shifting on the trunk. She shakes her head.
“It just got me so upset. I had all these plans in my head, you know? Tea parties with a daughter, like you do with Rylie. But the china is gone, and my baby is…”
Gone.
The word left unsaid becomes a lump in both our throats, and neither of us can swallow it down. I know there is more to this. I can feel it, but I can’t make her tell me.
“You have to act like you don’t know if Greg ever says anything, okay?” Tori says.
“But why?”
“He just…” Tori’s eyes are anguished. “Please pretend you don’t know.”
I promise to keep quiet, but I can’t understand why Greg is so embarrassed. I watch her walk to her car, winding her hair into a practiced bun and fastening it with bobby pins. I get in my car and check my makeup in the mirror. I see Tori’s car leave the parking lot in the rearview mirror and shudder.
Twenty-Nine
“Charlotte, I think you should read this book I just finished,” Greg says as we file out of Sunday school. Tori follows behind him. “I think it might help you deal with Rylie’s attitude.”
“I’m sorry?” I’m dumbfounded. I haven’t said a word about Rylie in Sunday school in years.
“I know she’s been having a hard year so far,” he says. “It’s a really helpful book! I don’t know why it isn’t more well-known.” He continues with the name of a book and an author I’ve never heard of, but I’m wondering how he knows she’s having a hard time with sixth grade. Did Tori say something? Is he allowed to access student records for sixth graders? I suppose anyone in the school administration can access discipline records, but he should stick to his STEM students.
“I’ll make sure to send the book with Tori to Bible study this week,” he says.
I grit my teeth. “Thank you.”
“That’s a great book, Charlotte,” Yvonne says behind me. “I was going to recommend it to you last week.”
“It really is!” Greg says, nodding to Yvonne. “It’s given me some great insights into how to get the students to pay attention. I hope it helps.”
“Don’t forget it’s our turn for snacks on Tuesday,” Tori says. “I’ll see you then.”
I forgot the last time it was our turn, so the comment stings. David finally catches up to me as Greg and Tori head to the parking lot.
“What’s the matter?” he asks, seeing my face. I just shake my head. I’m too embarrassed to speak, so I fake a smile as Reuben and Yvonne walk past. Yvonne says something about seeing me this afternoon. I start to ask her what she’s talking about, but I need to find Rylie first.
“Let’s go home. I need a nap,” I say to David with false cheeriness.
When we find Rylie, she’s sitting with Ellie in the hallway outside her classroom. The rest of the girls in her sixth-grade class are giggling together, including Hannah and Liana.
“Hi, Mrs. Madsen,” Ellie says. She keeps her back to the ot
her girls in Rylie’s class and looks angry. “I told Rylie she should come with me to the mall this afternoon. I have to get a dress for the winter formal.”
Rylie shakes her head and won’t look at me or Ellie. Ellie gives the other girls a look that could melt cast iron. She’s so protective of Rylie. I’m glad her family started coming to our church so Rylie has someone to watch out for her in the youth group next year.
“If you change your mind, have your mom text me, and my mom and I will pick you up,” Ellie says. She stalks past the other sixth graders with all the superiority a gorgeous blonde sixteen-year-old can muster.
Rylie won’t say a word as we walk to the car and stares out of the window without speaking the whole ride home. David doesn’t notice for the first few minutes and raises an eyebrow when I stop him from asking her questions with a hand on his arm. I keep our adult conversation going until we pull into the garage. Rylie is lost in her thoughts. I head into the kitchen and check the baked potatoes I put in the slow cooker before church. David hangs his jacket in the laundry room and takes Rylie’s coat for her as she follows him in.
“Rylie, when you get changed, come in here and grate some cheese for me, okay?” I ask.
“Yes, ma’am.” She trudges through the living room to her bedroom.
“What happened?” David asks after her bedroom door clicks shut.
“I don’t know, but I think it has to do with Hannah Bailey.”
David frowns. “I don’t follow.”
“I think there was a girls Sunday school party today after church,” I keep my voice low, and he leans in across the kitchen counter. “And I think Rylie is the only one who didn’t get invited.”
“What?” David’s eyes widen.
“You saw how she was all alone outside her class,” I say. “Ellie was trying to cheer her up.”
“What about Liana? Wouldn’t she make sure Rylie came?”
“Are you kidding me?” I say as I set the sour cream on the kitchen table.
“I thought Liana and Rylie were best friends,” David says.
