I can’t say what it was exactly. Maybe the way she toyed with the bracelet. Maybe her self-conscious smile. Whatever the reason, for the first time I glimpsed a hairline crack in the smooth sheen of Katherine’s poise. I’d hit on something. She didn’t like to talk about those years outside Bradleyville. Now here’s the surprising part. Given my attitude, you might assume I felt glad for her discomfort. But I didn’t. In fact, I felt something far different. The moment I sensed her anxiety about proving herself to me was the moment Katherine May King became human.
“Well, I’ll be honest,” she began. “I left Bradleyville to go to school. But I soon discovered that I really just wanted to experience life.”
Funny how she made that word breathe with longing and dreams and . . . passion. I understood all that. Suddenly, I realized that Katherine was speaking of when she’d been eighteen, not much older than I. What a thought—that she and I would have something in common.
After only one semester at the University of Kentucky, Katherine took a job in the office of a radio station. She worked there for two years, loving the music (top forty hits), and even getting free tickets to concerts. Then she worked as a caterer for another two years. At twenty-three, she moved to California with a girlfriend, working in San Diego as an office assistant, then again as a caterer. After that, she worked for the City of San Diego in the tourism department. Finally, she just got tired of it all and wanted to go home. She returned to Bradleyville.
Mighty short story, I thought. What about boyfriends? Surely Katherine had been pursued by hordes of men. There had to be things she wasn’t telling us. Important things.
“Are you gonna stay here now?” Clarissa pressed. “’Cause I don’t want you to go.”
Robert took a purposeful drink of iced tea, as if Katherine’s answer concerned him not in the least.
“Yes, I am,” Katherine told my sister firmly. Maybe a little too firmly. “I’ve seen enough of the world, Miss Clarissa. I’m ready to settle down.”
The moment the words left her mouth, Katherine realized their dual meaning. She blushed. Lowering her eyes, she worked at placing her knife just so across her plate.
“I can understand you’re wantin’ to do all those interesting things.” Daddy sprang to her rescue. “But I know what you mean about bein’ back here, near family. I never even wanted to leave, myself.”
My throat tightened at that. He’d never wanted to leave because Mama had been here. Every state in the country could have beckoned with golden opportunities, and he wouldn’t have been tempted to go. Now Mama was gone, and Katherine King sat at our table, talking of her adventures, declaring them behind her. And Daddy nodded his head, saying he understood when I knew he didn’t, not at all. What adventure had he ever pursued in his life? What had he done, other than be completely, achingly, content to live in Bradleyville, married to Mama?
At that moment, I didn’t know who I understood more, Daddy or Katherine. My sudden confusion made me feel as if I’d been buffeted by some wild wind into unfamiliar territory. I didn’t like that feeling one bit. Abruptly, I pushed away from the table. “Time for dessert.”
With concentrated efficiency, I stacked plates and whisked them into the kitchen.
chapter 10
Mama knew this day would come.
I pushed that thought away easily enough as I served dessert. As I played hostess and poured coffee. As I whirled through the kitchen, wiping every sticky square of tile and cleaning every dirty dish. Including the blackened glass pan I’d shoved into a cabinet. I even managed to block the thought as we bade Katherine goodbye and watched her glide down our sidewalk to her car. I saw Clarissa to bed, accepted Daddy’s gratitude and accolades for supper, shook my head over Robert’s shiner as I bade him good night. Finally, then, I had nothing to do but retire to my room and slump, exhausted, upon my bed. I did not bother to turn on the light but did turn my radio on low. One of my favorite songs played.
If only you would see me for all my soul can bare,
The inside of me, the best of me, the part I long to share . . .
Picking at my bedspread, I stared vacantly at the posters of singers on my wall, my mind elsewhere. Thinking, Mama knew.
Some things in this world cannot be adequately described. One is watching your mama, bubbly, full of life, waste away into a rag doll of pain and sedation. Through the summer of 1996 she went in and out of the hospital. Finally they sent her home to die. When the pain tied her face in knots, we gave her extra medication and prayed for drugged sleep to hurry. Other times, Mama would be more lucid. I think she saved her most important thoughts for those moments, spilling them like picked blossoms from an apron. During one of those times she called me to her side—alone—to prepare me for this day. I did not want to hear what she had to say.
“Mama.” My throat pinched as I sat beside her on the bed. “Don’t talk now.”
“I know it’s hard.” Her voice rasped. “Hard to talk about rebuildin’ when the tearin’ down’s not even through yet. But hear me out, Jackie, then you can set these words aside. They’ll come to you again when you need them.”
Mama laid frail fingers over mine. “I’ve watched you, Jackie. I know what’s happenin’ to you. You used to be full of laughter, never a care in the world. Now that’s gone, and you’re busy with cares you shouldn’t have to face. Cookin’ and cleanin’, watchin’ your brother and sister.” She stopped to swallow. I reached for the glass of water on her nightstand and put the bent straw to her lips. She drank with strained concentration.
“After I’m gone,” she continued, and I began to shake my head, no, no, no. Mama patted my hand. “Listen to me, Jackie, you’ve been actin’ like a grownup; now I’m goin’ to talk to you like one.” Her face blurred. “I know what you’ll do. You’ll keep on carin’ for the family, takin’ over my place. You will grieve, and so will your daddy. It will take a long time, but slowly your daddy will get better. Stronger. And one day, he’s goin’ to find someone else.”
I could not talk to her about this, I could not.
Mama gave a little smile. “He has my blessing in that; I’ve already told him so. Your daddy has much to give, and I don’t want him bein’ alone the rest of his life. Robert and Clarissa are young enough to be all right with that, I think. What I’m afraid is, it will be hardest for you.”
I could find no response.
Her eyelids slipped shut, and she fluttered them open. Her words fell to a mere whisper. “God will send your daddy who he needs. Don’t fight his choice. Just pray a lot and try to look to the future. Give her a chance.”
These words will come to you again when you need them.
“How could you know?” I moaned that night Katherine came to supper, nearly two years after the horrible conversation. Was I really supposed to be glad Katherine May King had entered our lives? Would Mama expect me to just welcome her with open arms, despite my misgivings? Part of me wanted to like her. The other part of me wondered about those eleven years, and what she hadn’t told us.
Please, God, help us. I tipped my head toward the ceiling. Please help me know what to do. And don’t let Daddy be hurt. None of us can stand any more hurt.
I prayed more and cried some. Finally, after midnight, I crept beneath the covers, leaving my radio on to rock me to sleep.
Not until I awoke Sunday morning did I realize I still wore my apron.
chapter 11
Over the next two weeks as my brother’s bruised face slowly mended, Katherine visited our house six times, her luminosity filling the rooms. Clarissa took to asking Daddy when she’d come next. At Katherine’s arrival, she’d bound to the door like a wayward fawn prancing into an open field. Even Robert’s face lit up when Katherine hugged him. And Daddy stood back and watched them both, an ancient happiness gleaming in his eyes. Then he’d turn those eyes on me, on my ambivalent smiles and cautious acceptance, and the light would falter like some sputtering lamp.
Katherine seemed
unfazed by my chilled response, allowing me my space. She never forced hugs, yet was warm. She asked me about school without seeming to pry. We talked about music, my favorite groups and songs. She’d try to help in the kitchen, but did no more than I allowed. I couldn’t find fault with anything she did, really. Still, I could not allow myself to embrace Katherine King.
I walked around feeling confused and out of sorts. I wanted to be happy for Daddy. I was happy for him. But I also felt scared to death and, admittedly, somewhat jealous. Why did this sudden happiness and excitement in our home have to be because of Katherine? Why did we need an outsider to show us what joy we had lacked?
And, of course, I had to deal with my emotions while the whole town watched, for Bradleyville being Bradleyville, the news of Katherine’s visits spread quickly. The desirous glances between Katherine King and Bobby Delham were leading to exactly what everyone had hoped for. Well, almost everyone. Grandma and Grandpa Delham were thrilled, but at church Mama’s parents treated Katherine with reserved politeness. I’d never been as close to them as Grandma and Grandpa Delham, but for once I leaned more toward their sentiments.
“Jackie!” Mrs. Clangerlee beamed knowingly at me one day as she checked out my groceries. “How are things going at your house?”
“Fine.”
“Well.” She picked up a bag of frozen corn as if it were a wondrous thing. “I’m surely glad for y’all. I surely am.”
I managed a tight little smile.
At school the boys teased me no end. Billy Sullivan waited until a crowd had gathered to drape a muscular arm around my shoulders. “Hey, Jackie, I hear Derek’s available.” He leaned in close, and in spite of my irritation, my heart did an odd little dance. “Y’all might as well keep it in the family.”
I shrugged away, disdain on my face. The problem with Billy, I told myself as my ankles trembled, was that he knew his own good looks.
“What’s the matter, Billy?” I looked at him out the corner of my eye. “Afraid I’m too much for you to handle?”
“Oooooh.” His friends sucked in a collective breath and exploded into laughter. Billy blinked, then recovered by pretending to faint at my feet. I flounced away without looking back. But my shoulder still tingled from the warmth of his hand.
“Oh, my,” Alison sighed later that day. “Guess the cat’s totally out of the bag.”
“Yeah, and it’s got claws, too.” I shoved a book into my locker and yanked out another.
“Well, things could be worse. I mean like Billy practically hugged you.” I banged shut my locker and shot her a look. “I wasn’t talking about things here at school, Alison. I was talking about her.”
“Oh.” Alison’s shoulders rose. “Sorry.”
We headed down the hall toward our next class. “But you like her some, right? And Clarissa and Robert still think she’s great? And isn’t your daddy happy?”
“Yes, to all of that,” I said glumly.
“So what’s up, Jackie? I don’t get it.”
I skidded to a stop, fingers pressing into my books. “What if she’s not like she says she is, huh? What if she . . . disappoints us?”
I wanted to say the rest of it but couldn’t admit the depth of my pettiness. Even then I recognized that Alison’s very empathy bared the darkness of my soul. I, who worked myself silly serving my family, now begrudged their joy, partly because I felt left out. Everyone, including my daddy, was falling in love but me. It didn’t help matters any that Alison was now officially going out with Jacob. I didn’t even have a close friend to commiserate with over my loneliness.
Alison peered at me, forehead wrinkling with concern. “Things will be okay, Jackie, you’ll see. Just—be thankful. After losing your mama and everything bein’ so horrible, finally you and your family have a chance to be happy again. I know,” she added quickly, “that Katherine will never replace your mama. But she can give y’all new things to look forward to.” Alison sucked a portion of her lower lip between two teeth. “She can be a friend to you, Jackie. Don’t look at her as tryin’ to replace. Look at her like a new friend.”
I forced a nod. Alison’s words reminded me of Mama’s. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks.”
She gave me a lopsided smile, then headed for her seat.
Only Derek seemed completely unfazed by the budding relationship. Even as my girlfriends whispered questions and the boys slid meaningful gazes between him and me, he said nothing. Perhaps he didn’t know what to say. Perhaps he simply didn’t care about the teasing. He always had seemed immune to such comments. He did smile at me when we passed in the hall, and he asked me once if our computer worked okay. I felt conspicuous talking to him at all, aware that two words passed between us would only fuel the fire.
I mulled about Derek as I walked Clarissa home from school one Wednesday afternoon, only half listening to her chatter about how Alma Sue and Della were fighting again. Most likely over her friendship. Robert had stayed behind for softball practice. The sun warmed my skin, and a light breeze dipped the leaves on our maple trees as we climbed the steps to our porch. “Well, try to keep out of their fight,” I told Clarissa.
“The phone’s ringin’,” she said.
“Oh, yeah.” I unlocked the door and trotted into the kitchen, reaching the phone just before the message machine kicked on. “Hello?”
“Hi, Jackie, it’s Katherine.” She sounded excited.
“Oh. Hi.” I dropped my books on the counter, panting. “Um, sorry. Had to run to get the phone.”
She laughed. “I knew you might not be home yet, but I couldn’t wait to call. I just heard some news that I thought you’d like to know.”
Oh, really. Katherine had never called just to talk to me. I leaned against the tile, firming my lips. “Okay.”
“Do you know the singing group LuvRush? They’re new to this country. They have one hit song called ‘Hung Up on You.’”
“Yeah. They’re hot.” The group’s song had climbed the charts in a hurry. I’d read something about them in the last issue of my Teen Dream magazine but couldn’t remember the details.
“Well, guess what. Their lead singer, Greg Kostakis—his brother grew up in Bradleyville and is related to me.”
That stopped me cold. I gazed out the glass door, trying to register the news.
“Jackie? You still there?”
“Uh-huh.”
She laughed again, a tinkling sound that could have come from one of my friends. “Guess you didn’t know either.”
“Tell me,” I said tersely, giving myself over to the moment. I scuffed out of the kitchen and toward my bedroom to find the magazine.
“Who is it?” Clarissa wondered as I passed.
“Nobody.” I waved a hand to shush her.
“Who is it?”
“Katherine, okay? Now beat it.”
“Lemme talk to her, lemme talk to her!” Clarissa jiggled on her toes, trying to grab the phone.
I jerked it away. “Clarissa! You can talk to her when I’m done!” Hurrying into my room, I shut the door in my sister’s face.
“Don’t hang up without letting me talk to her,” Clarissa’s muffled voice filtered through the wood.
So obvious now, isn’t it—how easily I changed. Fighting with Clarissa over talking to Katherine merely because she’d dangled a carrot before my nose.
“Sorry.” I jerked open my top desk drawer and pulled out the magazine. “Go ahead.”
I flipped through the glossy pages as Katherine explained. His brother’s name was Danny Cander, she said. Actually, half brother. Danny’s father had been a first cousin to her mama, making Danny and Katherine second cousins. Since Greg had a different father, she wasn’t really related to him at all. “But it’s sure close!” she exclaimed.
“You just found this out?” I couldn’t believe what she was telling me.
“Yes, Aunt Jessie happened to tell me about him. She’s never met Greg, but she’s stayed in contact with Patricia, Danny and Gre
g’s mama.”
The article lay opposite a full-page picture of LuvRush. Greg Kostakis posed in the middle, the other three singers around him. He looked so hot. “It says in this magazine that the group’s from Greece.” “Yes. Danny left Bradleyville at eighteen, just like I did. He ended up working for a cruise line that’s headquartered in Greece. His mama went with him. His daddy had already died. His mama married a man over there, and Greg is their son.”
Just like I did. I couldn’t help noticing the comment, almost as if Katherine sought to justify her own choices through the success of someone else. I ran my finger over Greg’s picture. “I can’t believe it,” I murmured.
“There’s more.” Katherine paused. “Danny Cander recently married Celia Matthews—your mama’s best friend all through school.”
“Oh,” I breathed, staring at Greg’s oval face, his dark hair cut short on the sides, thick on top, shaggy over his forehead. His deep-set brown eyes stared almost through me, a tiny smile playing around his naturally upturned lips. This new star had ties to my hometown. To my mama. Practically to me. We were connected
My eyes fell on another paragraph of the article. “Oh, wow. This magazine says they’re startin’ their first tour in the States soon!”
“I know, that’s how Aunt Jessie and I got on the conversation. The group’s going to be in Lexington, at Rupp Arena. I used to go to concerts there when I worked for the radio station.”
“Lexington!” A concert. I closed my eyes and dreamed of it. I’d never been to a concert in my life. I wondered if Daddy would let me go. I wondered if I could possibly meet this guy.
“One more thing. The real reason I called.”
“Uh-huh.” My voice wavered. I wasn’t sure I could take any more.
“Well, I want to tell you. But first I have to say that it’s a very big secret. So you have to promise not to breathe a word.”
“I promise.” I hunched in my chair, muscles taut.
Capture the Wind for Me Page 7
