Anna laughs again, but again there’s a cynical sound to it, and it seems to fight against her sweet-looking face and her kind eyes. “Yeah, right.”
“You could probably get an academic scholarship,” Caitlin says. “You were always so smart, Anna. You had a scholarship before.”
“Before…” she sighs. “Before Hannah and Ruthie came along.”
“But even the community college,” Caitlin continues, “has a childcare program and everything.”
“Do you know how long that waiting list is?” Anna rolls her dark eyes.
“But you could at least get on it.”
Anna seems to consider this. “Yeah…I guess I could.”
“It’d be worth it, Anna,” Caitlin says with emphasis. “In the long run.”
Anna nods. “I know you’re right, Caitlin. It’s just so hard to see beyond the daily grind right now. I mean, if you knew what my schedule was like…” Then she proceeds to tell us how she goes to work, comes home exhausted, tries to catch up on laundry and household chores, sleeps…and then nurses the baby, changes diapers, cleans up messes, deals with Hannah.
“I thought the terrible twos were bad,” she tells us. “Now we’re in the fearsome fours.” But she smiles as she says this, taking a moment to stroke Hannah’s curly hair. “Not that I’d trade her for anything.” Hannah looks up. “You’re Mommy’s helper, aren’t you?”
Hannah nods and smiles.
“How old is your baby?” asks Nat, the first words she’s spoken since we got there.
“Almost three months.” Anna sighs. “Hopefully she’ll be out of the colicky stage soon.”
“What’s that?” asks Nat.
“Colic?” Anna looks at Nat with raised brows, then kind of laughs. “I guess that’s a good question since most experts don’t exactly agree on its cause or its treatment. Let’s just say it has something to do with digestion, and most babies have it at least for a while. You’ll find out about it for yourself soon enough.”
Nat looks terrified as Anna continues.
“The main problem with colic is that it involves a lot of crying that’s hard to stop. It can get really frustrating. Although Hannah had it worse than Ruthie. But then I found this great book with some ideas that actually seem to work. The doctor calls them the five S’s.”
“What’s that?” Nat asks.
“Swaddling, swinging, shushing, sucking…” Anna frowns. “I keep forgetting the fifth one.”
Nat looks thoroughly confused now. Almost as if Anna is speaking a foreign language. Maybe she is—motherese.
“Don’t worry,” Anna assures her. “It’ll start to make sense once the little one arrives. Do you know what you’re having?”
Nat blinks, then seems to recover. “Oh, you mean whether it’s a boy or girl? No, we decided we want to wait to find out.”
“And how is Ben doing with all this?” Anna asks.
“He wants to do the right thing,” Natalie says in a crisp voice. “He wants to be a good father to his baby.”
Anna looks skeptical.
“It’s not easy for him,” Caitlin adds. “But he’s really trying to do what he believes God is calling him to do. He wants to be responsible.”
The conversation switches from Ben back to babies. Anna tries to get Nat to talk about ways she’s getting ready to be a mother, but Nat is being pretty resistant, almost as if she doesn’t really believe that she will eventually have a baby in her arms. Sad as this sounds, it gives me hope.
Then the baby starts to really fuss, and Anna announces that it’s feeding time. Taking the baby from Caitlin, she pulls up her T-shirt and starts breast-feeding Ruthie right in front of us. Now, okay, I know this a natural thing and probably very good for babies, but I’m thinking “Eew!” and I have to look away. I am relieved to see that Nat is uncomfortable too. Caitlin is the only one who continues chatting with Anna as if this is no big deal. And maybe it’s not. But it’s not exactly in my comfort zone either.
Finally Ruthie’s done with both sides, and now Hannah is starting to act up. “I think it’s nap time,” Anna tells us.
“We’ll get out of your hair,” Caitlin says, standing. “But hopefully you and Nat can stay in touch, and if Nat has questions, maybe she can come to you?”
“And I can loan you that book,” Anna tells Nat. “And if you have a girl, I can give you lots of clothes. Joel’s mom is a shopping freak. She keeps the girls looking good in little OshKoshes and all sorts of things.”
“Yeah,” says Nat. “That’d be great.”
“And maybe we’ll see you at church?” Caitlin asks hopefully.
“Maybe when life settles down a little.” Anna nods. “I know it would be good to get back into it. And I know the girls would be better off growing up in a church.” She looks at Caitlin with tears in her eyes. “I just thought it was going to be different than this.”
Caitlin reaches out and hugs her old friend. “You’re going to be fine, Anna. But this is a time when you need the strength of a church behind you. And like I said, Josh and I really want to have you and the girls over for a meal, when you’re ready.”
Anna nods again. “Yeah, I know. It’s just that the adjustment and everything…well, it’s just been a lot harder than I expected.”
“You have friends, Anna,” Caitlin tells her. “Friends who are ready to help.”
Anna smiles now. “Thanks.”
After we go, Natalie is pretty quiet. I’m sure this has given her plenty to think about.
“I like Anna,” I say as Caitlin drives us back to where I left my Jeep at the church parking lot. “She seems really nice.”
“She is,” Caitlin agrees. “But she’s not really up to her usual spunky self. I’m sure it’s pretty tiring doing all that she has to do.”
“I can’t even imagine,” I say. “When she talked about getting woken up in the middle of the night? Man, I would not be good at that.”
Caitlin laughs. “I guess it’s something moms just have to get used to.”
“I know what you guys are doing,” Natalie says suddenly.
“What?” Caitlin glances over at her.
“Trying to scare me.”
“No…” Caitlin says in a kind voice. “But it’s true that I wanted you to see what it’s like being a young mom. And that it can be hard.”
“But I won’t be single like Anna,” Nat tosses back.
“I hope not,” Caitlin tells her. “But there are no guaranties. Anna didn’t think she’d be single either. It came as a shock to everyone. I mean, it’s like they’d gotten through the hardest part—Joel had graduated from college. Life should’ve been getting better. And then he just left.”
“I wonder why,” I say.
“Josh thinks it’s because they got married so young, had kids too soon. He’s talked to Joel about it a couple of times, and although Joel feels bad and says that he’ll pay child support, he also is tired of being a husband and a dad.”
“He probably has a girlfriend,” Natalie throws in.
“That’s what I thought too,” Caitlin says. “But Anna said he doesn’t. And when Josh asked Joel, he denied it too.”
“Well, maybe they’ll get back together,” says Nat.
“That’s what we’re hoping. Josh is trying to talk Joel into getting counseling.”
By the time we’re back at the church, I’m not sure if Caitlin has gotten through to Nat or not. And when Nat and I are in my Jeep, I think the whole thing might’ve been for nothing.
“It’s going to be different with Ben and me,” she says as she buckles the seat belt over her thicker-than-usual waist.
“What makes you so sure?” I ask.
“It’s just a God-thing,” she says.
I don’t remind her that Anna and Joel are Christians too. That they thought things were going to go better for them. What’s the use, I wonder as I drive us home. In the end, Nat will do what Nat wants and say that it’s God’s will. Okay, I know that’s kind of harsh
and judgmental on my part, but I’m beginning to think that’s how it is. Even so, I will continue praying for my friend. And I will continue getting ready for her bridal shower.
Saturday, September 16
If I never give another bridal shower in my entire life, it will be way too soon. And if Nat thinks I’m going to give her a baby shower, well, she can think again!
Thank goodness for Caitlin today. I would’ve been lost without her. She managed to keep things light and happy, acting like it was perfectly normal for two seventeen-year-olds to get married and set up house. Speaking of setting up house, it turns out that Ben and Nat will not be house-sitting for Josh’s parents’ friends. When the older couple heard there was a baby involved, they backed out.
“Did you see all the cool stuff I got?” Natalie asks as I help her carry things over to her house.
“Yeah,” I say in a flat-sounding voice.
“You were back in the kitchen so much, I wasn’t sure.”
“There was a lot to do,” I say. “And Caitlin was doing a great job of keeping things going with the ladies.”
“Caitlin is such a natural hostess,” Nat says as she opens the door to her house. “I’m so lucky that she’s going to be my sister-in-law.” She laughs. “I guess I should say ‘blessed’ since luck really has nothing to do with it.”
Unless you mean bad luck, I’m thinking.
“Is that the last of it?” Mrs. McCabe asks as we haul the stuff into the dining room.
“I think so,” I tell her. “If I see anything we missed, I’ll bring it over.”
“Thank you for doing this for Natalie,” Mrs. McCabe tells me in a rather automated sounding voice. It’s pretty much the tone she’s been using about anything to do with Nat or the wedding or the baby. It’s like she’s holding everything in, and I don’t think I’d like to be around when she finally lets it all out.
“No problem,” I tell her.
“Yes, thanks!” Nat throws her arms around me in a hug. “You’re the best friend ever.”
I’m tempted to point out that I’m really rotten underneath and that I have very little hope for the upcoming marriage of Nat and Ben, but what would be the point? “Well, I’d better get back and clean things up before my dad comes home.”
Nat lets out a big yawn. “And I think I’ll take a nap. All this excitement has worn me out.”
Mrs. McCabe just frowns. And I make a hasty exit.
The house is quiet when I get home. And for a change, it feels welcome. All the voices and the women and the presents…well, it just felt so wrong. And I’m glad it’s over. I get a garbage bag and go around gathering up paper plates and cups and napkins—all in the fall colors Natalie requested, but looking more like wilted leaves now. I put the furniture back into their regular places, give the kitchen a quick wipe down, and am just heading to my room when my dad gets home.
“Safe to come in?” he asks.
“The women have all gone home.”
He smiles and gives me a hug. “How did it go?”
I offer him a piece of leftover cake and then proceed to tell him how it really went. No smoothing, glossing, pretending. And by the time I finish, he’s laughing.
“Poor Kimmy.”
I nod, appreciating his pity. “And next week is the wedding!”
“Good cake,” he says as he hands me his empty plate.
“Do you think I’ll ever have a normal life again?”
He considers this. “Is there really such a thing?”
“Things used to feel normal,” I remind him. “When Mom was here, back before Natalie got pregnant. Life was pretty calm and peaceful.”
“Yes. Maybe we took it for granted.”
I sigh. “Like you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone…”
He nods. “I hate to break up our little party, but unless you need anything, I’ve got some work to finish up.”
“You and me both,” I say. But as I go to my room, I’m still thinking about what he said. Maybe we did take “normal” for granted. Maybe we all do.
Dear Jamie,
About ten years ago, I did something really horrible. And it never seems to leave me alone. I’ve never told anyone, and I’m not even sure if I can tell you. But I’ll try. When I was about five years old and my little brother was two, I was supposed to be watching him for my mom. It was summer and we were playing outside. But he kept bugging me while I was digging in the sandbox, and I told him to go away and leave me alone. I don’t know how long he was gone, but when I went to look for him, I found him in our wading pool, face down. And I just stood there for a long time. I thought he was holding his breath, playing a trick on me. I can’t even remember what happened next. But my brother drowned that day. My parents said it wasn’t my fault, but I know how I told him to go away, and then I never even pulled him out of the pool. Sometimes I feel like I’m going to explode, like I can’t keep this in anymore. What should I do?
Murderer
Wow, this is a heartbreaker. I ask God to help me with it.
Dear M,
First of all, you are NOT a murderer. Second of all, your parents were ABSOLUTELY RIGHT—it was not your fault. No five-year-old should be responsible for watching a two-year-old, and I’m guessing your mom feels way worse than you do about the loss of your brother. Guilt can do horrible things to people, and I’m guessing this tragedy has hurt your family more than you even know. I suggest that you all get counseling, together and individually. You need to get over this and move on with your life, and it will probably take professional help to do this. I also suggest that you talk to God about how you’re feeling. His forgiveness goes much deeper than the human kind—and, in time, I believe God is the one who can heal your aching heart.
Just Jamie
Four
Friday, September 22
As usual, I gave Nat a ride home today. I suppose Ben would do this, but he got a full-time job last week. He cut back on his class load. Not so much that it will jeopardize his diploma, but just enough that he can work the swing shift at his dad’s office building—forty hours a week. Not in advertising like Mr. O’Conner, but as a maintenance man who scrubs toilets and mops floors.
Nat says he has to wear these gray striped coveralls and weird shoes, but she thinks he looks cute in this new uniform. Just the same, I’m guessing it’s a little humiliating for someone like Ben O’Conner. Not exactly like wearing your football jersey on game days, like today. Maybe Ben was relieved not to be at school all day. It must be hard seeing his jock friends doing their regular thing while he’s stepping into a whole different life.
“Ben doesn’t have to work tonight,” Nat tells me when I pull in front of her house.
“Big bachelor party?” I ask in a somewhat sarcastic tone.
“No, but Cesar is getting some of the guys from church together,” she says with slight exasperation, which I’m sure is meant for me. “No strippers or girls popping out of cakes.”
“That’s good to know.”
“But what about me?” she says.
“What about you?” I toss back.
“Well, you’re my maid of honor…seems like you should do something special for me.”
I let out an involuntary groan.
“Kim Peterson!” She’s frowning now. “You don’t have to be such a wet blanket.”
“Well…” I begin, “I did just give you a bridal shower last week.”
She softens a little. “I know and that was nice. But this is my last night being a single girl, and besides we don’t even have a rehearsal or a rehearsal dinner or anything tonight.”
I control myself from rolling my eyes or saying something really regrettable. Like, what does she expect? It’s not like you can blame her mom for putting some stops on this comedy of errors. Nat already admitted that, even without the frills, it’s costing too much.
“So?” I ask, knowing how stubborn Nat can be. “I’m not exactly experienced at this kind of thing. Wh
at would you suggest?”
“I don’t know…”
“Pizza and videos?”
She kind of shrugs.
“Look, Nat…” I hear the edge in my voice now. “This isn’t exactly your normal kind of wedding situation, you know? Do you want me to call a bunch of girls from high school and invite them to come over and party?”
She sadly shakes her head. “Pizza and videos will be fine.”
Now I feel guilty. “I’ll get some ice cream too. And you can spend the night if you want.”
She brightens now. “Okay, this is sounding better and better.”
“Around sixish?”
“I’ll be there. Maybe we can do pedicures and facials and stuff. Get all prettied up for the wedding.”
I force what I hope looks like a genuine smile. “Sounds great!”
I do my part, foraging through the video store for Nat’s favorite old movies and then over to Safeway in search of her favorite cookies ’n’ cream ice cream, finally swinging by Pizza Hut to pick up our order. By the time I get home, Nat is already there. And I can tell by my dad’s expression that he’s relieved to see me.
“There she is now,” he says in an overly jovial voice. “I told you she wouldn’t be long. You know how punctual our Kimmy is.” He winks at me. “Now if you ladies will excuse me.”
“You mean you don’t want to stick around for a pedicure?” I tease as I set the pizza box on the counter.
“No, but I might sneak a piece of this…” He peeks in the box.
“There’s plenty,” I say as I put the ice cream in the freezer. “It’s a giant.”
“Ooh, you got my favorite.” Nat snags a piece.
“Nothing but the best for the bride-to-be,” I say, trying to keep my voice light. I’ve been reminding myself of how cheerful Caitlin was at the shower last week. And really, what can it hurt to put on a happy face?
Now it’s midnight, and after pizza, ice cream, movies, facials, pedicures, manicures, even some eyebrow plucking, Natalie, “the bride-to-be,” has finally dozed off, and I’m sitting here in front of my computer trying to make some sense of my life. But it seems I can’t.
That Was Then... Page 3
