by Tricia Goyer
“I don’t know. I think she’s kind of cute with those, uh, slipper shoes.” Pete rubbed his chin.
“She was wearing slippers? In the winter? She’ll catch her death of cold.” Bob’s voice rose.
“The style is Bohemian.” Dana put her spoon down. “It’s like the seventies hippie style but with designer duds.”
“She seems like a free spirit to me,” Melody said as she filled their water glasses. “I see her around a lot, even during times when I believe she’s supposed to be in school.”
“Have you met her family?” Charlotte asked as she slathered her bread with butter. “Rosemary told me some things, but it wouldn’t be right to repeat them.” She bit her lip. “But I will say that I’m not sure I approve of all the time Sam is spending with her.”
“Are they the ones who live in that converted bus in the Sunset Mobile Home Park near the edge of town?” Pete asked.
Bob nodded. “Oh, yeah, I remember meeting her dad before. They’re a little different. I’ve seen that guy around, always asking questions about where the old homesteads were and asking about the old dump.”
“Just because they live in a converted bus doesn’t make them weird.” Dana touched Bob’s arm.
“Yeah, maybe they’re just big on recycling.” Pete chuckled.
“I don’t know.” Charlotte pushed her bowl of soup back, suddenly not hungry. “I just have a feeling that hanging out with that girl isn’t the right thing for Sam.”
No one else commented, and Charlotte was glad. She hoped she wouldn’t have to explain herself. She’d had the same concerns when Denise started dating Kevin Slater—mostly that she’d been so secretive, just like Sam was being secretive about Kendall. With Denise she’d butted in too late.
Not this time. Charlotte rose to go pay the bill, determined to talk to Sam about Kendall. Sam hadn’t brought up his friendship with her, and Charlotte hadn’t found the right time to ask, although that would be changing. She’d have to make the right time. She hated the thought of Sam heading down the wrong path with the wrong person.
This time I’m going to say something before it’s too late.
CHARLOTTE DIDN’T HAVE to wait long to talk to Sam. She and Bob had been home only ten minutes and were still warming themselves before the corn-burning stove when Sam entered.
“Hey.” He nodded his chin toward his grandparents, kicked off his shoes, and moved toward the stairs.
“Sam, not so fast. Your grandma and I want to talk to you.”
“About what? I did all my chores. And my homework. Actually, I, uh, honestly don’t have any homework tonight.”
Bob settled into his chair, and Charlotte moved to the sofa. She sat and folded her hands on her lap, saying a quick prayer for guidance. Sam sat beside her, perched on the edge of the cushion.
“I’m not worried about your homework. Your grandma and I are more concerned with who you’ve been keeping company with lately.” Bob turned to Charlotte. “What’s that girl’s name?”
“Kendall,” Sam said before Charlotte had a chance to respond.
“Yes, well, what your grandfather is trying to say is that we worry she’s a bad influence.”
“I’ve heard she doesn’t go to church.” Bob said. “And then there’s the matter concerning her parents. We haven’t seen them much in the community.” Bob cleared his throat.
“They’re not like typical Nebraska folks.” Charlotte tried to make her voice as soft, as kind, as possible.
“What’s wrong that? And for your information it’s not parents. She just lives with her dad. Have you met him, or are you just repeating stuff you’ve heard? Gee, Grandma, you’re always talking about how Mrs. Cunningham likes to poke her nose into everyone’s business. Now look at you.”
“Sam, that’s no way to talk to your grandmother.” Bob leaned forward and gripped Sam’s arm, and Charlotte noticed his nostrils flare. Charlotte patted Bob’s hand, trying to calm him.
Sam didn’t respond. Instead he turned and looked at the kitchen door. His foot tapped a double beat.
“Actually, there is some truth to that. I’ve never met these people.” Charlotte blew out a breath. “It’s just, well, you must be aware of how things look. Kendall misses a lot of school. It seems like everyone around town knows that. In fact, I saw you driving around with her during school hours the other day. And her family. Sam, you’re being so secretive about your relationship. Do you think Kendall is a good influence on you?”
Sam sat there, staring at his hands, and at first Charlotte wasn’t sure if he’d heard her.
He shrugged. “She’s just a friend. It’s not like we’re going to run off and get married or anything. Besides, there are a lot of cool things about her you don’t even know. You haven’t even given her a chance,” he snapped.
“That’s enough. I’m not going to stand for your tone of voice.” Bob pointed toward the stairs. “We’ll finish this conversation when your attitude changes.”
Sam slumped off, and Charlotte pushed her hair back from her forehead, reminded again how hard this parenting thing was.
Charlotte waited until she heard Sam’s bedroom door slam shut. Then she turned to Bob.
“Do you think we’re being too hard on him?”
“I don’t think so. We do have concerns, and I think we needed Sam to know that.” Bob rose and took his glass to the kitchen sink, rinsing it out.
“I suppose the thing I’m worried most about is Sam’s plans for the future. He was talking a lot about college, and I haven’t heard anything about it recently. The more I think about it, I wonder if Sam was just making those plans for Arielle—you know, to look good in her eyes.”
“Could be. It wouldn’t be the first time a boy tried to impress a pretty girl.” Bob winked. “In my opinion, if that’s what it takes, then so be it. That’s all right with me. Doesn’t always matter what the motivation is, just that it points him to the right path.”
Charlotte rose and moved to the kitchen. She took a peanut butter cookie from the cookie jar and broke off a piece, even though she wasn’t hungry. “I suppose that’s exactly what I’m worried about. What is Kendall all about? If she’s skipping school herself, I wonder if she’s going to encourage Sam to do the same.”
“I suppose we’ll worry ’bout that when the time comes. Maybe you’re right. No use staring up at today’s clouds and worrying about tomorrow’s rain.”
Charlotte took a bite of the cookie and slowly chewed. “Yeah, suppose not.”
She stood there, eating the cookie but not really tasting it. She thought for a minute, wondering if she should bring up the same worried feelings she’d had with Denise. Maybe I should have been worrying about tomorrow’s rain back then.
Bob clicked on the television, and Charlotte guessed the conversation was over. She considered heading upstairs and talking to Sam, but did she really think he’d listen to her? She was just an old grandma. What did she know?
She thought about asking Pete for advice but realized that was out of the question. Pete was getting married in a month. He was up to his neck in wedding stuff.
She glanced over at Bob, who was now shouting letters at Vanna White.
Maybe I’ll talk to Pastor Evans about it when I’m at church tomorrow. I’ll take advice wherever I can get it.
Charlotte thought of another common saying that her mother often used: “It’s better to nip it in the bud.” Sam hadn’t done anything wrong yet. And it was better to deal with it now than wait, wasn’t it?
It couldn’t hurt to talk to Pastor Evans about it, right?
Chapter Fifteen
Emily felt like she was going to throw up or faint or maybe do both as she entered Lily Cunningham’s house, tagging behind Andrea and Mr. Cunningham. It was different than she expected. Friendlier. Warmer. The carpet was rose-colored and a large, comfortable-looking floral sofa sat in front of the window. Photos of Lily and her brother, Jason, hung on the wall. In the photos Lily had a big s
mile, something Emily hadn’t seen too often around school.
“Mom, I’m home,” Andrea called.
“In the kitchen,” Mrs. Cunningham replied. “Grandma’s here too. Come in, Andrea. I’d love to introduce Emily to her.”
Emily kicked off her shoes by the front door where the other shoes were lined up. “Uh, where do you want me to put my bag?” Emily looked around. The whole house was perfectly clean, and she didn’t want to mess it up.
Andrea skipped toward the kitchen. “Just leave it there. We’ll get it later,” she called back over her shoulder.
Emily set it on the floor and then followed Andrea into the kitchen.
“Grandma M!” Andrea gave an older, round woman a large hug.
“Emily, I’d like to introduce you to my mother, Mrs. Marley,” Mrs. Cunningham interrupted.
Emily extended her hand. “Hello, Mrs. Marley.”
The older woman took Emily’s hand and shook it politely. “None of that Mrs. Marley stuff. Call me Grandma M. Everyone does.”
Emily shrugged. “Uh, okay.”
Mrs. Cunningham motioned to the dining room chair next to her. Emily sat.
But instead of sitting, Andrea hurried to the fridge, and began rifling through it. “Want a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?” she asked.
“Uh, sure,” Emily said.
“Only one.” Mrs. Cunningham wagged her finger in Andrea’s direction. “You don’t want to spoil your appetite. We’re having fried chicken for dinner.”
“Fried chicken. My favorite!” Andrea whooped.
Emily stiffened in the chair. She hadn’t even thought about telling Andrea she was a vegetarian and didn’t eat meat. The last thing Emily wanted was to make a scene at the table. She’d heard her grandma talking about Mrs. Cunningham before. If you told the woman anything you could be sure that the whole town would hear about it by the next afternoon.
Even though they were just relaxing in their home, Mrs. Cunningham seemed like she was ready to walk out the door in her red pencil skirt and black sweater. And, Emily noticed, Lily’s grandmother was even more put together. She wore a long skirt and a bright orange blouse. Her earrings matched her outfit, as did her necklace and nail polish. Emily thought of her own grandma, who wore jeans and sweatshirts most of the time. Even though at the beginning, when she’d first moved to Nebraska, Emily had wished her grandma took more time with her appearance, the way she dressed made sense to Emily now.
“So you girls don’t have any Valentine’s Day plans?” Mrs. Cunningham asked.
The girls let out a collective groan. “Please,” Andrea said. “We are trying to pretend that it is just any other day.”
“Well, that sounds fine to me,” Grandma M said. “I think Valentine’s Day is highly overrated.”
Emily was surprised and happy to hear that. She had been a little bummed that she didn’t have a boyfriend to celebrate the day with, so in a way coming to the Cunninghams was a good excuse to forget about it altogether.
“Where’s Lily?” Andrea asked with a mouth full of sandwich. Amazingly Mrs. Cunningham didn’t seem to notice or care.
“She’s at violin lessons. We’ve started up again. You know, for a while she was quite bored with it—being the best musician and all—but her father insisted that she keep going. He said that in all of life we need to adjust to people who aren’t quite as talented as we are. Owen thought it would be a nice growing experience for her.”
“Of course. Who doesn’t love the violin?” Grandma M took a sip from her teacup.
They chattered on about a zillion different topics over the next fifteen minutes. Emily knew that Mrs. Cunningham talked a lot, but she was an amateur compared to Lily’s grandmother. Grandma M shared gossip about nearly every family between Bedford and Harding, scarcely taking a breath. Most of it didn’t seem to matter. I mean, who really cared that Pastor Evans got a flat tire and had to call a tow truck? Or that the principal of the elementary school was seen exiting an all-you-can-eat buffet in Harding last Friday night?
Still, Emily waited and listened, wondering if the conversation would come back to her family. It did.
“You know …” Mrs. Cunningham turned to Emily. “I was talking to Lily the other day, and she told me that Sam has a new girlfriend.”
“Well, I wouldn’t really say they’re dating.” Emily shrugged. “They’re friends, that’s all.”
“Hmmm…. I heard it’s much more than that, but I suppose you know better than I, my dear,” Mrs. Cunningham said.
“Who are her parents?” Grandma M asked, pouring herself another cup of tea from the china teapot, which looked old but didn’t have even one chip in it.
“I’m not sure. I haven’t met them. I just know Kendall from school.”
“Kendall.” Mrs. Cunningham’s penciled eyebrows arched. “That’s an interesting name.”
“I’ve never heard of a girl named Kendall before. Maybe it’s a family name. That’s the only excuse, really. So. Are the wedding plans going well for your uncle and Miss Simons?” Grandma M switched conversations quicker than one flap of a hummingbird’s wings.
Andrea looked at Emily and held back a chuckle.
Emily ignored Andrea and thought of the conflict she’d had with Dana concerning the wedding dress. Everything was fine now, but it had been a hard couple of weeks. Still, she didn’t want to tell these women that.
“Oh, yes. I think everything’s going good. My grandma’s just happy that Uncle Pete found such a nice girl.”
“That’s nice, dear. I’m sure her wedding dress will be lovely.”
“Yes, it is, and the cool thing is that I’m designing the bridesmaids’ dresses,” Emily said. She didn’t know why, but she had a strange desire to please this woman.
“You?” The woman pinched her lips together as if trying not to smile. “That’s unique.”
“Yes, I suppose it is.” Emily shrugged, not knowing what else to do or say. She had to admit that she also found it funny that she was talking like they did. Talking like a middle-aged woman having tea.
“Yes, well, Miss Simons is lucky to find your Uncle Pete. I heard that she’s been engaged two times before—you know, when she was away at college, but I’m not sure if I believe that. I hope this one sticks. I heard her mother saying the other day Dana would have a simple but happy life with Pete.”
Simple? Emily didn’t like the way the woman said that word—as if simple were the same as boring or unsatisfactory. Her grandparents had a simple existence, but their lives were anything but boring.
The conversation turned to the new computer Mr. Cunningham was buying Lily for her birthday.
Emily quickly ate her sandwich, wiped her mouth, and then stood. “Thank you for letting me come over. Andrea and I better get to our school work now. We have a lot to do.”
Andrea motioned for Emily to follow, and as soon as she left the kitchen Emily released a slow breath. She followed Andrea down the hall.
“Are they always like that?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, do they always talk about everyone and everything? And do they always talk that quickly? I was having a hard time keeping up with who was doing what with whom and why.”
Andrea opened the door to a bedroom. It was large, and there were two twin beds against the walls. One bed was perfectly clean, and painted wooden letters hanging above it spelled out L-I-L-Y. The second bed was hard to spot under the piles of clothes, books, makeup, and other stuff.
“Isn’t everyone in America like that? I mean I thought all families talked and talked and talked.”
Emily moved to Andrea’s bed and pushed aside some things to sit. “No, not really. I mean, my grandma probably talks the most, but sometimes my grandpa goes through a meal hardly saying anything. Sam sometimes stays quiet too. I mean—”
The door swung open, and Lily entered with her violin case swinging in her hand. She was smiling, but as soon as she saw Emily her smile faded a
nd she stopped short.
“Hey, Lily.” Emily offered a quick wave, and her stomach knotted up. She thought about asking about violin practice, but that sounded stupid. She then thought about mentioning what they had found at the library, but she didn’t want Lily to think she’d only come to work. Instead, she just sat there, waiting for Lily’s response.
“Oh, hi. I forgot you were coming over.” Lily looked at Emily. Then she turned to Andrea. “Hey, I was looking for my red sweater—you know the one you wore last week. I couldn’t find it in your clothes pile.”
Andrea didn’t seem to mind Lily’s curtness. She pointed to the closet. “That is because Mom came in and took out the dirty clothes. I saw it hanging on your side.”
Lily opened the closet. “Oh. I just wasn’t expecting it to actually be put away.”
“Hey, Lily, do you want to watch a movie with us later?” Andrea approached her sister, her smile in direct contradiction to Lily’s frown.
“I don’t know. I might not be here.”
“But if you are?” Andrea didn’t miss a beat. “We’ll watch something good.”
“Yeah, fine, whatever.”
In the large walk-in closet, Lily had what looked like a sewing table. Emily stood to take a better look.
“Wow, I really like your sewing machine.” Emily forced a smile as she eyed it, hoping the whole night wouldn’t be as awkward as this. Unlike Grandma’s old sewing machine, it had all types of buttons and levers.
“Grandma M gave it to me for my birthday last year. I swear that woman is intense. The year before she gave me a guitar. And the year before that a video camera. If I show one bit of interest in something, she thinks I’ll be the best ever at it. But I do like to sew.” Lily tugged the red sweater off the hanger and slipped it on.
“Me too.”
“Yeah, I remember. You made that really cute shirt that one time.”
Emily paused, surprised by the kind words coming out of Lily’s mouth. She remembered Lily’s comment. It had been the one time Lily had seemingly been nice to her.
