“Guess he knew he looked too good, eh? No time for anyone but himself.”
Rikki laughed. “Exactly.” She sobered. “What about Dante? What kind of a father is he?”
I opened my mouth to tell her how wonderful he was but something else came out entirely. “He’s preoccupied a lot of the time. Travis and Cory suffer with that, I think.”
“But he doesn’t hit anyone, and he doesn’t yell.”
“No. But he needs to spend more time with them.”
Her eyes gleamed. “And with you.”
I nodded.
She sighed. “To tell the truth, I couldn’t get rid of him when we were kids. He was always trying to take care of me.” She paused. “Becca, maybe if you were a little less capable—”
“What?”
She shrugged. “Dante seems to rush to the aid of everyone he sees. Why not you?”
“I’m not going to pretend to be helpless so my husband will pay attention to me.”
“Well, I would. But that’s not what I meant. I meant you should tell him about the gardens and take a class at school. He can step in and be your hero.”
My hero? Where did she get this stuff? I didn’t need a hero. I needed a husband who was there more. A husband who . . . knew my dreams. Goose bumps popped out all over my skin. I didn’t even know my own dreams, so maybe I needed someone to help me figure them out. A hero.
I stared at Rikki, and she held the stare, a smile coming over her thin face. “He’d be with the boys more whenever you went to see gardens. Like he is now.” She frowned. “Well, if he’s torn himself away from the hospital.”
“He has. He went to Cory’s soccer game.”
“When was the last time he did that? What good is being a bishop when you miss your own kids’ lives?”
I’d thought the same thing but never dared voice it aloud. While I was growing up, my father had missed a lot of our activities, and I thought it was a way of life. But maybe there was a compromise. Maybe putting things right between Dante and me wasn’t a matter of huge changes but of each of us moving, just a bit, toward the other. Giving a little. Taking what was offered.
I slung my arm over Rikki’s shoulder. “I really like you.”
“You sound surprised.”
I laughed. How odd was it? Here I was talking to my husband’s former fiancée about things close to my heart, things I’d never share with my own sister. “A little,” I said. “I’m usually too busy to think about these things.”
“You’re thinking about them all the time. You just don’t talk about them.”
She had me there.
“But you have to talk about them.” Rikki was looking out at her children playing together in the water. “You never know how much time you have. You must live every day as if it’s your last. You know, I never came back to see my mom, not even when she was sick. I was too afraid of my dad. I don’t know why. He couldn’t have hurt me anymore. I’ve never forgiven myself for not coming. No matter how weak she was or how she refused to stand between me and my dad, she loved me, and I wasn’t there for her in the end. I always thought there would be more time, but now I know that’s only something we tell ourselves so we don’t have to do the tough things. Until you run into something that you can’t put off.”
Something like dying, she meant. I thought about Dante and all that he’d done for his father, right up to the very end. Though his father had never changed in all that time, never given Dante what he’d been craving, Dante had no regret for his own actions. I’d fallen in love with my husband a little more as I’d watched him serve his father, though sometimes in my heart I’d regretted the attention it took from me and our children.
I leaned closer to Rikki. “Thanks for coming with me. I don’t know that I really would have come alone.”
“Yes, you would have.”
“Well, it wouldn’t have been as much fun.”
She grimaced. “Last night was a hoot.”
“I meant today. It was fun.”
She lay back on her elbows. “It was, wasn’t it? Next time come a day early and schedule time for a spa, too. Now that would really make it worth it.”
I didn’t tell her I would worry about missing the kids too much, though since they were growing up, they’d all be leaving me soon. “Why not?” I said instead. I noticed she hadn’t included herself in any future plans, though that was probably more from politeness than any slight in my direction. She didn’t have much of a feel for nuances, I’d learned.
“So how about some dinner?” Rikki called out to the kids. Her suggestion was met with enthusiastic cheers. “Guess that’s a yes.” Rikki tried to stand and lost her balance, nearly falling into the pool. I steadied her quickly. She giggled. “Thanks. I got up too fast.”
The rest of the evening was fun. We ate dinner at Denny’s and then cruised around to a few stores. We all ended up buying silly cheap earrings that were more glitter than taste—except for James, who opted for a few smooth rocks to put in with his fish, Fred.
We laughed a lot. Several times teenage boys passed by, and the girls were all aflutter with their attention. I was glad to see that the black leather-clad kind didn’t seem to look their way.
The only blemish on the evening was when I helped Kyle pick out her earrings. Allia had to snap our picture wearing the silly things, so we threw our arms around each other and hammed it up. Behind Allia, Rikki’s face grew white, and I didn’t think I imagined the anger in her face. Hatred, almost. For me. The next instant it was gone, and Rikki even let Allia take her picture, which, from Kyle’s reaction, was something bigger than I’d realized.
Shoving away what felt like an invisible smothering hand, I erased the incident from my mind.
Chapter Thirty
Dante
It was nearly time for church, and I was pacing in and out of my office at the ward building, checking for the missing female members of my family. Becca and the girls should have been here by now. I stifled irritation that stemmed more from worry and a lack of sleep than from any upset she’d caused by her absence. How strange the house felt without her, how empty our bed. How needy the boys. Did she feel this way when I was gone?
The thought made me smile. Becca didn’t worry about things like that. If she was awake when I was at late meetings, she did laundry or cleaned the house, made kids’ lunches, or prepared something for Primary. I grimaced at how dull that all sounded. No wonder she’d jumped at the chance to go to Saint George.
No, you idiot. You convinced her to go. Truth was, Rikki was right. I took Becca for granted, and I suspected if I didn’t do something about that right now, it might become a problem. Sending her to Saint George for a well-deserved day off was a step in the right direction, though in the possessiveness of my soul, I hated the very idea.
Then again, with the girls and Rikki’s kids, it probably hadn’t been all that much of a vacation. Rikki shouldn’t have forced Becca to take her. What had they talked about? And where were they, anyway? The trip didn’t take more than five hours, even with the necessary rest room stops.
What was taking her so long? Maybe I shouldn’t have let her go.
Let her?
As though it was up to me to give her permission.
While she’d been gone, I’d been busy every second—most of which had nothing to do with my calling as a bishop. There had been dishes to wash, counters to wipe, homework to deal with, and all kinds of unimaginable cleanup that I normally took for granted. And to think I’d only had half the children, and I hadn’t had to prepare food from scratch. I was amazed at how easily Becca handled everything in the house. I’d done my best, but the kitchen already looked rumpled around the edges.
I’d spent my rare evening alone at home replacing a broken light switch in the main upstairs bathroom and fixi
ng the door to Cory’s room, which had mysteriously fallen off its hinges. Mysteriously. Right. Things tended to self-destruct where Cory was concerned. Too bad he was so dang cute or I might hold it against him. When I was finished, there’d been no one to ooh and aah over the job. The boys hadn’t seemed all that impressed.
What if Becca never came back? Though I knew the idea was ridiculous, it made me feel ill all the same. I couldn’t imagine life without Becca, yet I was starting to believe that she was nowhere near as happy as I was in our relationship. And why should she be? When was the last time I’d surprised her with a night away? When had I last made reservations somewhere just because I loved her?
I was about to call her when I heard Lauren’s loud voice in the foyer. “Mom, can I sit by James?”
“No, you’ll sit with the family.”
I rushed from the office, and there was Becca, wearing a bright red blouse I’d never seen before with a black skirt. She looked fabulous, and if we hadn’t been at church, I would have grabbed her and kissed her like a drowning man. Was it the red that brought that color to her cheeks?
“Hi,” she said a bit breathlessly.
“I was getting worried,” I said.
“Worried about us getting in an accident, or about us being here on time?”
What kind of a question was that? My confusion must have shown in my face because Becca gave a quick shake of her head. “Never mind. We’ll talk later.” Her hand touched my cheek, and suddenly everything was right with my world.
Behind Becca, Rikki caught my eye. She was smirking at me, but I didn’t show my irritation. Kyle, on the other hand, was almost unrecognizable. Someone had pulled back her hair, and her makeup was tasteful. I knew somehow Becca was responsible. I shook Kyle’s hand. “Good to see you,” I said.
She smiled shyly. “Thanks.”
“And me?” Rikki said.
“Always nice to see you, Rikki. But you’d better go in now. It’s starting.” I took my own advice and hurried up to the podium. As usual, the members noticed when Rikki came in, and hands were raised in friendly greeting. Sister Gillman briefly grabbed onto Kyle’s hand, her mouth moving. I hoped whatever she said didn’t destroy all Becca’s good work with the child. But Kyle smiled and went on her way. Rikki sat on the same row as Becca, with James and Lauren next to each other. Becca would have her hands full. She didn’t seem to mind, though. The smile on her face made her seem dreamy and young and a bit like someone I didn’t know very well. A tremor shuddered up my back, but when Becca caught and held my eye, I was okay again.
Silly, I thought and pulled my mind back to what I was going to say after the opening hymn.
Chapter Thirty-One
Kyle
Church was different today. I didn’t know if it was because I was getting to know everyone, because I was dressed more like the other girls, or because Allia and I were really starting to be friends. I didn’t catch her staring at me anymore, and if someone called her over to speak with her, she motioned for me to come along.
We had a visitor in the Sunday School class today, a kid named Monty Earl, and he smiled at me. It wasn’t just a regular “hi” smile, but one that seemed, well, really interested. That had never happened to me before. Never. Not from a boy who looked like Travis, only younger. I’d seen this boy in the hallways at school. In fact, we had a class together, though I doubted he knew that since it was a big class and I always hid in the back, while he sat in the front. If he smiled at me at school that would be the real test, since everyone was supposed to be nice at church. Butterflies danced in my stomach, but good butterflies, not the kind that made me want to throw up.
I still felt sad about dance, but every time I thought about it, I remembered Sister Rushton’s advice to wait and see. She’d also told me to talk to Mom. Should I? Being with Mom in Saint George had been almost like old times. Mom had been fun. Herself. Maybe she wasn’t planning on leaving. After all, she seemed pretty happy at her new job, and maybe Couch Man would keep coming around.
I held my breath. Allia bumped her shoulder to mine and whispered. “That guy is so staring at you.”
“Maybe,” I said.
“Don’t be offended if he doesn’t ask you out. Remember, he’s a Mormon. You’ll have to be just friends until you’re sixteen.”
For some reason that made me laugh like crazy. I danced so much, it wasn’t like I could become obsessed with a boy, but there was a strange sort of comfort in knowing that becoming steady dates wasn’t expected here. Some of the girls I’d been hanging out with were doing things with the older boys at the high school, things that made me uncomfortable. For the first time in my life, I was glad to be only thirteen.
Church was over all too soon, and I headed out to the truck with Mom and James. Mom could barely keep her eyes open, and I was tempted to ask her to let me drive. I knew how. Mom had taught me earlier in the summer, just for emergencies. I didn’t know what emergency she might have been talking about, but no thirteen-year-old in her right mind turned down driving lessons.
We ate ravioli from a can. James loved the stuff, but I didn’t. I wondered if Sister Rushton or Sister Flemming of chili fame made ravioli from scratch that tasted better. Of course, Sister Flemming was probably still at the hospital with her husband, and Sister Rushton wouldn’t have time since she’d just arrived home, like us. I wondered what she was making and if she was dreaming about her gardens while she cooked.
“Mom,” I said, trying to be casual.
“Yes?” Mom looked up from her plate. The wrinkles around her eyes were more prominent, and the way her forehead creased, I knew she was fighting a migraine. Not a good thing since she’d already taken her pain pill after church. Still I pressed on.
“About dancing. Do you think I might be able to have lessons now?” Now she could ask if I had someplace in mind, and that would at least open the door to the possibility.
She shook her head. “Not yet, honey. Give me another couple months, okay? I promise we’ll look into it. I need to pay off James’s glasses and the doctor appointments. But you’re next, okay?”
“What about me getting a paper route or some other kind of a job?” It was worth a shot.
“I need you to watch James. Besides, I don’t know what you could do, especially while watching him. A paper route requires adult supervision these days. It snows a lot here, and I don’t think I’ll be able to get up at five in the morning to drive you around.”
Something inside me froze, and all the joy I’d felt earlier in the day vanished.
“We’ll do something about dance,” Mom continued. “Just wait.”
I felt like she was telling me to wait to breathe. In a few more months, all those girls would be far ahead of me, and I’d be stagnant, watching James while my chance passed before me. While I suffocated.
“Wait? Wait?” My voice was rising. “James is your responsibility, not mine. Why do I have to watch him?”
Her eyes widened. Blue eyes that reminded me of my own. She hated it when I talked this way about James, and truthfully, I didn’t exactly mean it because I loved James and wanted him to be happy. But what about my happiness? Since she was going to be angry anyway, I might as well get it all out. “And why do you have all those pills in your purse? Are you some kind of druggie?”
“Why are you snooping in my purse?” Her angry tone matched my own.
I jumped to my feet. “Because the other night you left pills all over the floor. James could have gotten them.”
“No, I wouldn’t.” James’s eyes were big, and he looked close to tears.
“I picked them all up and put them in your purse. I had to look to find the right bottle. I looked one up. Why are you taking seizure medicine? Is that why you’re so different now? I feel like I don’t even know you anymore.”
Mom stared at
me from her seat. Emotions raged in her face but what they were I couldn’t tell, though they didn’t seem to be just anger. That made me feel worse. A girl should be able to read her own mother. “You shouldn’t have snooped,” she said. “There was a coldness in her voice now, one that scared me.
“You shouldn’t hide things. You never used to.” Unable to stand it any longer, I ran toward the basement stairs. “Forget it. I can see that as long as I live with you, I’ll never reach my dreams.” I fled before I could see her reaction.
“Kyle!” Mom called after me.
I didn’t stop. I ripped open my door and drove the lock home before throwing myself on my bed and sobbing, my face buried in the pillow. I hated Mom. I hated her. I hated our life. I wanted to be Allia, to have her parents, to be able to dance. To not have to worry about James, or at least not so much.
I heard knocking on the door and Mom’s voice begging me to open up. But I didn’t want to see her because I knew that she’d talk and talk and somehow make me feel okay when really nothing would have changed at all. I didn’t want to feel okay. I wanted to be mad at her.
I wanted to dance.
I put my head under the pillow and screamed.
Eventually, I must have fallen asleep, and when I awoke, the house was dark and quiet. My stomach was growling—probably the reason I’d awakened at all. On the table were the remains of dinner. Mine and Mom’s plates were barely touched, and James’s was empty. He’d had milk, too, I was glad to see.
Remorse fell over me, streaming out my eyes and down my cheeks. What had I done? Mom had responded the best way she knew how, and I’d reacted like a two-year-old. Yes, I couldn’t depend on her for lessons, but I could ask neighbors to let me rake their leaves or do odd jobs. Something. Fleetingly, I thought about shoplifting again, but I didn’t want to be like my lousy, no-good father. No, I’d do it the right way. Maybe Sister Rushton or Allia would have some ideas about earning money.
I could also pray. I didn’t know if I believed something like that could really work, but Allia seemed to believe it. Bishop and Sister Rushton, too. Maybe if I prayed, and there really was a God, maybe He could help me find a way.
Before I Say Goodbye Page 23
