"See, Jayden, these are letters," mom said, pointing to the shirt she had just pulled over his head.
"Letters," Jayden repeated, pointing at his chest.
"Letters make words," mom said. "Look, there are letters on Carson's shirt too."
"Letters," Jayden said, poking Carson.
"When dad comes home, I want you to show him the letters on your shirt, all right?" mom said.
"Dad letters," Jayden said.
"Show dad the letters," mom said again.
Mom and dad sure repeated stuff a lot.
"B," Jayden said, pointing to Carson's shirt.
"That's right, that's a B," mom said.
Jayden was busy trying to build a tower under the kitchen table when dad came home. "Jayden," mom called, "come give dad a hug."
Jayden dropped his blocks, crawled until he was well clear of the table, then stood up and ran to dad. "Hug!"
"Give dad a hug," dad said.
"I hug dad," Jayden said.
"That was a sentence!" dad said to mom.
"Good job, Jayden! Do you remember what mom asked you to show dad?" mom said.
"I build tower!" Jayden said, tugging on dad to come see his tower.
"That was another sentence!" dad said.
"Jayden, do you remember what mom wanted you to show dad?" mom asked again, pointing at her sweater.
Jayden considered. "Blue!" he said.
"Yes, mom's sweater is blue. Can you show dad your shirt?" mom said.
"Shirt, letters," Jayden said, pulling his shirt out to show dad.
"I'm the big brother," dad read off his shirt. "That's a cute shirt."
"Letters on Carson," Jayden said, running into the living room where Carson was playing with popsicle sticks from mom's craft supplies. Carson was bent over so dad couldn't see the letters on his shirt. Jayden helpfully pushed Carson onto his back and rolled him over.
"Letters!" Jayden announced, pointing at Carson's shirt as he howled.
"Don't knock your brother over," dad said, and then he read Carson's shirt. "I'm the big brother. Honey? Why do both boys have shirts saying that they're the big brother?"
Mom started to giggle. Dad kissed her. Jayden jumped up and down. Carson went back to his popsicle sticks.
It took a huge expenditure of self-discipline and energy, but Maria Anderson managed to keep her head up and a smile on her face as her first period geometry class filed out of the room. She even nodded at a couple of them who smiled at her, although moving her head that much when it felt like a bowling ball was excruciating. After the last teenager left, Maria hauled herself out of her chair, braced herself against the wall to walk over and shut the door, returned to her chair, dropped her head to the desk and indulged in a moan, thankful that second period was her prep period.
She fumbled the phone into her hand and dialed the front office. "Hello, Myrna? This is Maria Anderson. Can you submit a request for a substitute for my classes for the rest of the day? I'm sick. I'm going home. Thanks. Merry Christmas."
Maria replaced the receiver and pep-talked herself into laying out the materials for a substitute teacher. The last time she'd needed a sick day was her maternity leave when Noah was born. She'd noticed she was extra tired and had a bit of a headache that morning, but nothing worth missing school for. The fatigue and aches quadrupled in the space of an hour, and she wished she hadn't come to school at all. She was sure she was running a fever. Concerned about possibly exposing a substitute teacher to the flu, she wiped down her desk and doorknob with a Clorox wipe.
Knowing she was going home and going to bed gave her enough energy to get her purse and walk slowly to the parking lot without noticeably staggering. In her car, she rested against the steering wheel for a few minutes while she considered calling Brian to come get her. That would mean walking back into the school and borrowing the phone in the front office. Besides the walk, her presence would expose everyone to the flu. Her fogged brain weighed the danger of exposing people to the flu against the danger of driving home while feeling this sick, and decided it would be worse to expose people to the flu.
She started her car and drove with extra vigilance to make up for her dizziness and fatigue. When she safely pulled into her driveway, she rested a few minutes before peeling her white fingers off the steering wheel and getting out of the car. Brian's Subaru wasn't in the garage.
Maria let herself in the house. Because she was a mother who had not yet completely collapsed, she put away the cereal boxes from breakfast, and only stopped herself from unloading the dishwasher by reminding herself that she would shed virus all over the clean dishes. Brian got home as she was debating between sweeping up the spilled Rice Krispies, and going to bed.
"Are you all right?" Brian asked, alarmed. "I've never seen you come home during the day."
"I'm sick," Maria answered. "Where's Noah?"
"I picked him up from preschool and dropped him off at the Coles' to play with Tristan. Here, let me help you get to bed," Brian said.
Maria shook him off. "I'm fine." She headed down the hall towards their bedroom, with Brian pacing her.
"Here, I'll get the blankets for you," Brian said, preceding her into their room to move a load of laundry off the bed.
"I'm going to get on the Internet and check the difference between swine flu symptoms and a bad cold," Maria said, veering into the office instead.
Brian practically sprinted out of the bedroom and into the office. "Let me do that for you!"
But Maria was already at the computer. "You can disinfect it later," she said, and clicked the button to maximize the open browser. Dizzy, it took her a few seconds to realize what she was looking at. Then the wave of nausea that swept over her had nothing to do with the flu. She looked up at Brian, and even through the haze of illness, she could read the overwhelming shame and guilt on his face.
Brian reached over her and shut down the browser.
"This is what you do when Noah is at preschool?" she asked.
He didn't answer.
"If I wasn't already feeling like death, I'd want to kill you," she said.
"It's not about you," Brian said softly. "It's a problem I've had for a long, long time."
"We've been married thirteen years," Maria said.
"I thought I'd be able to quit once I got married," Brian said. "I quit for three years, I really did."
She was only enough for him for three years? Then he had to go back to that? And how could she date him, fall in love, feel spiritual confirmation to marry him, live with him for thirteen years, and never have an inkling that he used porn? She was so stupid, she deserved to be betrayed.
She was a pure and virtuous Mormon woman, so everything she knew about pornography came from General Conference and articles in the Ensign. This was the most awful thing a man could do. Her marriage was over. All the speakers said porn destroyed marriages. The only way to fight a porn addiction was to never start, and it was obviously too late for Brian to heed the Church's counsel. She couldn't fight this. She'd held the marriage together through Brian's depression, his inability to hold a job, his rages, and now he dumped this on her too. She felt too sick to hate him.
Abruptly, Maria needed to get to a bathroom. She pushed past Brian, and he followed her. She closed and locked the bathroom door in his face.
"Maria? Please can we talk?" he pleaded.
"Later," Maria said. I wish I was ladylike enough to faint, or even just vomit, but I have to have diarrhea at a time like this?
"Maria?" Brian repeated as she made a very unladylike sound into the toilet.
"Go away, Brian," Maria said, beginning to cry. Already humiliated at finding out her husband used porn, she was doubly humiliated that she was too sick to yell at him, and that he wanted to discuss the state of their marriage when she needed to get every single molecule out of her digestive tract. Of course her husband used porn. Cyber-whores never got the flu, or stretch marks, or gained twenty pounds, or asked him to clean up breakfast before it was time for dinner, or any of the other things a normal woman did.
Maria pulled a yard of toilet paper off the roll and blew her nose in it. She heard Brian walk away from the bathroom door. With every iota of her waning strength, she was angry that he walked away just because she told him to.
"You could stay and lie to me," Maria sobbed into the toilet paper. "I'd believe you, I really would."
Brian stopped in the hallway, scared, ashamed, and filthy. Yet underlying everything else was relief at being caught. Being a porn addict was exhausting. Maria would help him quit. Maria could do anything. A wave of fear washed over him as he realized Maria was the only one he could count on right now. After the way his family treated him about Thanksgiving, he could never turn to them for help. And the bishops he had confessed to in the past were kind, but none of them ever really understood what he was up against. One of them kept encouraging him to follow Elder Boyd K. Packer's advice to sing a hymn to banish unworthy thoughts, which was rather like trying to derail a runaway freight train by throwing a ping-pong ball at it. God wouldn't help him; he'd tried that too. Something in him had driven God away long ago. Maria wouldn't let him down, though. The fear in him receded as he repeated that promise to himself. Maria could do this for him.
He would take care of her too. He thought about what she needed right now. Oddly, he wasn't having an anxiety attack. He got a bottle of Tylenol and put it on Maria's nightstand. He went to the kitchen and poured Maria a glass of white grape juice, and set it next to the Tylenol. Flu victims should stay hydrated.
He went to the computer and printed out a brief article comparing flu symptoms to cold symptoms, and added it to the items on her nightstand. He turned down the quilt, and dug her fuzzy slippers out from under the bed.
She was still in the bathroom. Brian went back to the computer, and started deleting all the porn images and video clips that he'd downloaded and squirreled away in various corners of the hard drive.
When he heard her come out of the bathroom, he went to talk to her about how she could help him. To his surprise, she shut and locked the bedroom door. He raised his hand to knock, but then changed his mind. Fear washed over him at the possibility that Maria wasn't going to help him. He'd feared all his life that if people knew the truth about him, they would despise him. He projected a façade to keep people, even his wife, from knowing the despicable truth. Now the façade was crumbling, and his wife had shut the door in his face. The only thing behind his façade was porn, fear, and self-loathing. He sat down at the computer and opened the browser.
The guilt and fear overwhelmed him so much he couldn't get lost in the images. That was unexpected; the guilt and fear didn't usually attack until after he was finished. He'd never let himself experience a negative emotion without numbing it with porn or exploding in rage. He clicked back to his home page instead, and cleared the history of the Internet browser. He shut off the computer, and unplugged it for good measure. He stared at the blank computer screen, overwhelmed with despair, without any escape hatch at all.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
Chapter 56
"I have a friend at work whose husband is a speech and language therapist at a school district. I already mentioned Jayden to her, and she gave me her husband's cell phone number. I can call him right now," Jason Benton said.
"It isn't an emergency, Jason," Nicole said, plopping Carson on her lap and trying to maneuver his foot into his shoe. "The pediatrician's office just asked us to wait until after the holidays before they evaluate his speech for a referral for developmental screening."
"He probably doesn't need a referral at all. Calling my friend's husband is a lot less formal, we don't have to use insurance, and I can do it now," Jason said.
Carson protested when mom tried to hold his foot still long enough to tie his shoe.
"If Jayden has a problem with his language development, I want to do things right," Nicole said.
"The guy is a speech and language pathologist. Talking to him isn't going to put us on the wrong foot," Jason said.
Nicole shrugged. Ever since her mother's comment at Thanksgiving made her wonder if her mother wished her father had been more involved with the children, she had been noticing that Jason wanted to help with the boys, and she usually tried to turn him down. Most of her fulfillment came from being a mom, and she resented Jason interfering on her turf, as if she was less of a mother if he was more of a father. When she put it that way, it sounded ridiculous. But motherhood was her only important role right now, while Jason had fatherhood, priesthood and a career. If she and Jason were equal, then fatherhood could only be one-third as important as motherhood. Part of her knew that gender roles shouldn't be crammed into an algebraic equation and solved for equality, but the other part of her still got prickly when Jason wanted to take over something as important as Jayden's language development.
Nicole finished tying Carson's shoes and found his jacket. By the time she turned around, Carson had disappeared down the stairs and Jason was punching in a phone number. Nicole hauled Carson up the stairs and wrestled him into his jacket as he tried to suck his thumb and hold a book at the same time.
"Hi, is this Caleb Plumley? I work with your wife. She mentioned I might call? That's great. I hope it's all right I'm calling you at home in the evening. Thanks, I really appreciate it. We were wondering about our son's language development. I don't know if our son has a problem or not, but my wife tells me he doesn't talk as well as some of the other little kids his age," Jason said.
Nicole decided the trip to the store could wait. She sat down on the couch. Carson wriggled off her lap, pulled his shoes off, and headed downstairs again.
"He turned three a couple months ago," Jason continued. "Sure, we can answer some questions. Just a second and I'll put you on speakerphone so my wife can hear you."
Jason punched some buttons and sat next to Nicole.
"I'm going to run through some basic questions that will give you an idea of whether or not your boy may need an evaluation," Mr. Plumley was saying. "Can you understand everything he says?"
Nicole nodded, "usually."
"If you point to a picture of an object, can he identify it?"
"Yes," Jason answered.
"Does he like to listen to stories?"
"He loves stories," Nicole said, beginning to relax.
"Does he put at least three words in a sentence?"
"Yes, but if he can use just one word and get his point across, he won't use more words," Nicole said.
"Does he ask questions that begin with what or where or when?"
Nicole considered while Jason looked at her anxiously.
"I don't hear that," Nicole said.
"Does he answer questions in words? For example, if you ask him where something is, does he tell you where it is or just point?"
"He points," Nicole said.
"Will he talk about abstract things like his feelings? Will he say he's sad or happy?"
"Once in a while," Nicole said, "if I prompt him."
A loud crash, followed by a wail, floated up from downstairs. Jason and Nicole exchanged looks, and then Jason went down to rescue Carson. As dad headed downstairs, Jayden came out of the kitchen with a handful of pretzels. "Pretzel!" he announced.
"Is that him?"
"Yes, his name is Jayden," Nicole said to the phone.
"See if you can get him to say a sentence."
"Jayden, what are you doing?" Nicole asked, pulling Jayden close to her.
"I eat pretzel," he answered.
"Excellent," said the voice on the phone.
"Phone!" Jayden said, picking it up. "Lo."
"Hello, what's your name?"
Jayden handed the phone to Nicole. Jason came up the stairs with Carson, who was still wailing. Jason was kissing his fingers over and over. Even from across the room, Nicole could see his fingers were red and pinched.
"He wants you," Jason said as Carson threw himself in Nicole's direction.
Nicole caught Carson and took him out of the room as Jason picked up the phone. After several minutes of rocking with Carson's favorite stuffed hippo, Carson was happy again.
By the time Nicole got back to the living room, the phone was off, and Jason was asking Jayden what his name was. Jayden was smiling shyly and sidling away. Jason asked him how old he was, and Jayden smiled again and wandered off.
"What did he say?" Nicole asked.
"He said Jayden sounds like he's within the normal range for his age. He gave me a bunch of suggestions for ways to enrich his language development, but that he doesn't think there's cause for concern. I'm going to start reading to him every night, and taking him places where we can talk about everything he sees. We need to keep our ears open for some language milestones he described," Jason said.
As Jason repeated the last part of the conversation with the speech therapist, Nicole kept nodding. Jayden would love all this time that Jason was planning to spend with him. She resolved to keep her mouth shut and work on her attitude without criticizing her husband for doing things differently than she would do them.
Spencer Simmons pulled into the parking lot at work, parked his old Volvo, jauntily slammed the door as he got out, and whistled his way into the building.
"Somebody's caught the holiday spirit around here," Beth commented from the receptionist's desk as he walked past.
"I hope you're having a good holiday season," Spencer said, pausing to talk for a minute and lengthening the anticipation of checking his email.
"Can't complain," Beth said. "Our first grandson turned a year old a couple months ago, and Christmas shopping is so much more fun with a baby involved."
"Isn't that the truth?" Spencer agreed cheerfully. "You have a wonderful day." He walked away before he noticed that Beth was trying to show him a picture of her grandson.
Spencer walked past several cubicles in the transportation planning department, tossing out greetings. At his own cubicle, he took off his coat, turned on his computer, and went to put his lunch in the breakroom fridge while his computer booted up. He was still humming when he sat down in front of his computer and double-clicked on his email. His happy expression turned into a full grin. She'd already written back.
>To: Spencer Simmons
>From: Heidi Ward
>Date: December 14, 2009
>Re: How was Thanksgiving?
Hi Spencer,
That was so thoughtful of you to write. We had a nice Thanksgiving, thank you for asking. We got together at my parents' house. Between my two brothers, I have six nieces and nephews. I see the one family more often because they live closer. It was wonderful to see the other family as well. They stayed three days, and I got to babysit the younger ones on Saturday while everyone else went shopping. They're so sweet!
I am sorry to hear about the trouble with your daughter. I do agree that sometimes you have to be firm. Remember the scriptures teach us to show forth an increase of love afterward though. I'm sure you'll do the right thing. You were always focused on righteousness as a missionary, and were such a good example to all of us.
I heard from Mary Douglas recently (Sister Ansie). Her son just received his mission call to Honduras! That's next door to where we served! Mary is thrilled to pieces, although I admit I'm a bit shocked that someone we served with is old enough to have a son leaving on a mission.
Thanks again for writing. It's nice to keep in touch.
Have a good day,
Heidi
Spencer read the email four times before moving on to work-related email. Sister Ward, or Heidi as he now thought of her, had contacted him a couple years ago when a family that she had taught and he had baptized was coming from Nicaragua to bring their son to the MTC for his mission in Salt Lake City. Spencer organized most of the lodging and transportation. Heidi flew out from Texas for a few days, along with Mary Douglas, the companion who taught the family along with Heidi.
Reliving a mission experience was a happy experience for Spencer. The happiest part was finding out that Heidi Ward had never married, and liked to talk to him. Heidi was a kind woman who treated him with respect. Spencer fell head over heels in love. Heidi treated him so well that Spencer knew she loved him back, but was too classy to say so. He did his best to not email her very often, saving contact with her as a rare treat when life at home got too difficult. It was natural for him to write to her about leaving Danna home on Thanksgiving to nip her rebellion before it got worse.
He clicked open her email again and read the paragraph where she assured him he would do the right thing. This was how he knew she loved him; she trusted him to do the right thing. Carly always told him he did the wrong thing. Spencer got his revenge on Carly by believing everything she said to him, and staying out of parenting as much as possible to avoid doing the wrong thing. Of course Carly loved him too, but it was a different sort of love. Sometimes a man needed more than one kind of love.
Really, it was too bad polygamy ended over a century ago. Spencer could understand why a man would want more than one wife. Carly was a good, righteous woman, no doubt about it. But sometimes a man wanted to be around a woman who wasn't so righteous that she always had the answers. Heidi would let him come up with an answer once in a while. Heidi wouldn't simply inform him they were leaving their daughter behind at Thanksgiving and expect him not to argue. Heidi wouldn't tell him that his daughter had gotten sexually involved with a couple of boys in the sixth grade, but that she'd handled it and he wasn't to say anything to her. Actually, Spencer was relieved Carly wouldn't let him interfere with Danna that time, because he had no idea what to do. See? He did need both kinds of wife! One to take over when he didn't know what to do, and one to let him make a decision when he did know what to do.
He savored the sentence in Heidi's email where she said she enjoyed babysitting her nieces and nephews. She was kind, respectful, and she loved children. Spencer strongly felt that Heidi would be his plural wife in the celestial kingdom, and that's why she wasn't married now. It was all very romantic. If Carly fussed about him taking a second wife, he would have to put his foot down, but fortunately there was no reason to tell Carly about Heidi until they were all dead. It was a tender mercy that he got to enjoy some of the happiness of his relationship with Heidi in this life as well.
Spencer pulled open the most recent draft of the spreadsheet he was working on and started checking figures. He loved his job.
Tom Nesbitt was packing his lunch when Tracy arrived home from her meeting with the rape survivor's support group. He threw in a couple of Twix bars and a bag of chips while listening to the garage door go back down, and Tracy's car door slam. He dusted off his hands and made sure he knew where a box of tissues was.
Tracy came through the door with a red nose from crying, and a bewildered expression on her face.
Tom handed her a tissue.
She giggled when she took it. "I'm getting predictable, aren't I?"
"You're getting well," Tom said. "I see you changing. You're dropping a wall that's been up for a long time."
Tracy wiped away fresh tears. "You don't mind me crying on you all the time?"
"It was a hundred times worse when you wouldn't cry at all, honey," Tom said. "Come sit down with me."
Tracy let him lead her by the hand into the living room where they sat down on the love seat. Tom put the box of tissues on the end table next to Tracy and sat with her as she sniffled and gathered her thoughts.
"Gloria told more of her story tonight," Tracy said. "She said when she was at the emergency room, one of the nurses snapped at her that she should have expected to get raped because of how she was dressed. Then Shawna said she never told her best friend she'd been raped because she heard her friend say once that women who got raped were asking for it. Our group leader said that one reason people blame the victim is because they're scared they're vulnerable too, and if they can find a reason it was the victim's fault, then they feel safer because they're not like the victim."
"That is the weirdest thing I've ever heard," Tom said.
Tracy wiped her nose and looked at him hard. "But Tom, that's the reason I've been blaming myself all these years."
"Come again?"
"If it was my fault, then I could keep it from happening again. I felt safer if I blamed myself. I wanted to feel safe more than anything else in the whole world. If it was my fault, then all I had to do was find out what I did wrong and never do it again. You know what I decided I did that caused him to rape me?"
"Um," Tom said.
"I decided I was too pretty. That's what he told me when he was raping me. So I gained eighty pounds, quit wearing makeup, and haven't dressed in anything feminine since then. I got as ugly as I could so I would feel safe," Tracy said.
"I think you're beautiful," Tom whispered.
Tracy started to cry again. "It would scare me when you would say that. I thought it meant you wouldn't be able to control yourself."
"No!" Tom protested, "never!"
"I know that now, but it still scared me," Tracy said.
Tom let his head drop against the back of the couch, absolutely confused by the workings of the female mind. "Is that why you don't like it when someone points out that Abby is turning out to be drop-dead gorgeous?"
Tracy nodded.
"Wow, honey."
"I know," Tracy said.
They sat in silence for a few minutes.
"There was another thing that was easier when I blamed myself," Tracy said.
"What's that?"
"I didn't have to forgive him. If it was my fault, then I didn't have to forgive him because I was the one who did something wrong," Tracy said.
"Oh," said Tom, wondering if he ought to talk to her about his conversation with his cousin, Stan Allbright, about forgiveness.
"I'm not ready to do that yet," Tracy said. "I haven't been mad at him because I've been so busy being mad at myself. I want to be mad at him for a while."
"Okay," said Tom, putting all his good advice on hold.
"I'll get there, but not right now," Tracy said.
Tom hugged her.
"There was something else," Tracy said.
"What?"
"You know that scripture that says despair comes because of iniquity?"
"Yes," said Tom.
"I used to beat myself up because I felt despair, and that meant I had committed the iniquity. But you know what? Despair can come because of someone else's iniquity too, if you try to take responsibility for it," said Tracy.
"It isn't an emergency, Jason," Nicole said, plopping Carson on her lap and trying to maneuver his foot into his shoe. "The pediatrician's office just asked us to wait until after the holidays before they evaluate his speech for a referral for developmental screening."
"He probably doesn't need a referral at all. Calling my friend's husband is a lot less formal, we don't have to use insurance, and I can do it now," Jason said.
Carson protested when mom tried to hold his foot still long enough to tie his shoe.
"If Jayden has a problem with his language development, I want to do things right," Nicole said.
"The guy is a speech and language pathologist. Talking to him isn't going to put us on the wrong foot," Jason said.
Nicole shrugged. Ever since her mother's comment at Thanksgiving made her wonder if her mother wished her father had been more involved with the children, she had been noticing that Jason wanted to help with the boys, and she usually tried to turn him down. Most of her fulfillment came from being a mom, and she resented Jason interfering on her turf, as if she was less of a mother if he was more of a father. When she put it that way, it sounded ridiculous. But motherhood was her only important role right now, while Jason had fatherhood, priesthood and a career. If she and Jason were equal, then fatherhood could only be one-third as important as motherhood. Part of her knew that gender roles shouldn't be crammed into an algebraic equation and solved for equality, but the other part of her still got prickly when Jason wanted to take over something as important as Jayden's language development.
Nicole finished tying Carson's shoes and found his jacket. By the time she turned around, Carson had disappeared down the stairs and Jason was punching in a phone number. Nicole hauled Carson up the stairs and wrestled him into his jacket as he tried to suck his thumb and hold a book at the same time.
"Hi, is this Caleb Plumley? I work with your wife. She mentioned I might call? That's great. I hope it's all right I'm calling you at home in the evening. Thanks, I really appreciate it. We were wondering about our son's language development. I don't know if our son has a problem or not, but my wife tells me he doesn't talk as well as some of the other little kids his age," Jason said.
Nicole decided the trip to the store could wait. She sat down on the couch. Carson wriggled off her lap, pulled his shoes off, and headed downstairs again.
"He turned three a couple months ago," Jason continued. "Sure, we can answer some questions. Just a second and I'll put you on speakerphone so my wife can hear you."
Jason punched some buttons and sat next to Nicole.
"I'm going to run through some basic questions that will give you an idea of whether or not your boy may need an evaluation," Mr. Plumley was saying. "Can you understand everything he says?"
Nicole nodded, "usually."
"If you point to a picture of an object, can he identify it?"
"Yes," Jason answered.
"Does he like to listen to stories?"
"He loves stories," Nicole said, beginning to relax.
"Does he put at least three words in a sentence?"
"Yes, but if he can use just one word and get his point across, he won't use more words," Nicole said.
"Does he ask questions that begin with what or where or when?"
Nicole considered while Jason looked at her anxiously.
"I don't hear that," Nicole said.
"Does he answer questions in words? For example, if you ask him where something is, does he tell you where it is or just point?"
"He points," Nicole said.
"Will he talk about abstract things like his feelings? Will he say he's sad or happy?"
"Once in a while," Nicole said, "if I prompt him."
A loud crash, followed by a wail, floated up from downstairs. Jason and Nicole exchanged looks, and then Jason went down to rescue Carson. As dad headed downstairs, Jayden came out of the kitchen with a handful of pretzels. "Pretzel!" he announced.
"Is that him?"
"Yes, his name is Jayden," Nicole said to the phone.
"See if you can get him to say a sentence."
"Jayden, what are you doing?" Nicole asked, pulling Jayden close to her.
"I eat pretzel," he answered.
"Excellent," said the voice on the phone.
"Phone!" Jayden said, picking it up. "Lo."
"Hello, what's your name?"
Jayden handed the phone to Nicole. Jason came up the stairs with Carson, who was still wailing. Jason was kissing his fingers over and over. Even from across the room, Nicole could see his fingers were red and pinched.
"He wants you," Jason said as Carson threw himself in Nicole's direction.
Nicole caught Carson and took him out of the room as Jason picked up the phone. After several minutes of rocking with Carson's favorite stuffed hippo, Carson was happy again.
By the time Nicole got back to the living room, the phone was off, and Jason was asking Jayden what his name was. Jayden was smiling shyly and sidling away. Jason asked him how old he was, and Jayden smiled again and wandered off.
"What did he say?" Nicole asked.
"He said Jayden sounds like he's within the normal range for his age. He gave me a bunch of suggestions for ways to enrich his language development, but that he doesn't think there's cause for concern. I'm going to start reading to him every night, and taking him places where we can talk about everything he sees. We need to keep our ears open for some language milestones he described," Jason said.
As Jason repeated the last part of the conversation with the speech therapist, Nicole kept nodding. Jayden would love all this time that Jason was planning to spend with him. She resolved to keep her mouth shut and work on her attitude without criticizing her husband for doing things differently than she would do them.
Spencer Simmons pulled into the parking lot at work, parked his old Volvo, jauntily slammed the door as he got out, and whistled his way into the building.
"Somebody's caught the holiday spirit around here," Beth commented from the receptionist's desk as he walked past.
"I hope you're having a good holiday season," Spencer said, pausing to talk for a minute and lengthening the anticipation of checking his email.
"Can't complain," Beth said. "Our first grandson turned a year old a couple months ago, and Christmas shopping is so much more fun with a baby involved."
"Isn't that the truth?" Spencer agreed cheerfully. "You have a wonderful day." He walked away before he noticed that Beth was trying to show him a picture of her grandson.
Spencer walked past several cubicles in the transportation planning department, tossing out greetings. At his own cubicle, he took off his coat, turned on his computer, and went to put his lunch in the breakroom fridge while his computer booted up. He was still humming when he sat down in front of his computer and double-clicked on his email. His happy expression turned into a full grin. She'd already written back.
>To: Spencer Simmons
>From: Heidi Ward
>Date: December 14, 2009
>Re: How was Thanksgiving?
Hi Spencer,
That was so thoughtful of you to write. We had a nice Thanksgiving, thank you for asking. We got together at my parents' house. Between my two brothers, I have six nieces and nephews. I see the one family more often because they live closer. It was wonderful to see the other family as well. They stayed three days, and I got to babysit the younger ones on Saturday while everyone else went shopping. They're so sweet!
I am sorry to hear about the trouble with your daughter. I do agree that sometimes you have to be firm. Remember the scriptures teach us to show forth an increase of love afterward though. I'm sure you'll do the right thing. You were always focused on righteousness as a missionary, and were such a good example to all of us.
I heard from Mary Douglas recently (Sister Ansie). Her son just received his mission call to Honduras! That's next door to where we served! Mary is thrilled to pieces, although I admit I'm a bit shocked that someone we served with is old enough to have a son leaving on a mission.
Thanks again for writing. It's nice to keep in touch.
Have a good day,
Heidi
Spencer read the email four times before moving on to work-related email. Sister Ward, or Heidi as he now thought of her, had contacted him a couple years ago when a family that she had taught and he had baptized was coming from Nicaragua to bring their son to the MTC for his mission in Salt Lake City. Spencer organized most of the lodging and transportation. Heidi flew out from Texas for a few days, along with Mary Douglas, the companion who taught the family along with Heidi.
Reliving a mission experience was a happy experience for Spencer. The happiest part was finding out that Heidi Ward had never married, and liked to talk to him. Heidi was a kind woman who treated him with respect. Spencer fell head over heels in love. Heidi treated him so well that Spencer knew she loved him back, but was too classy to say so. He did his best to not email her very often, saving contact with her as a rare treat when life at home got too difficult. It was natural for him to write to her about leaving Danna home on Thanksgiving to nip her rebellion before it got worse.
He clicked open her email again and read the paragraph where she assured him he would do the right thing. This was how he knew she loved him; she trusted him to do the right thing. Carly always told him he did the wrong thing. Spencer got his revenge on Carly by believing everything she said to him, and staying out of parenting as much as possible to avoid doing the wrong thing. Of course Carly loved him too, but it was a different sort of love. Sometimes a man needed more than one kind of love.
Really, it was too bad polygamy ended over a century ago. Spencer could understand why a man would want more than one wife. Carly was a good, righteous woman, no doubt about it. But sometimes a man wanted to be around a woman who wasn't so righteous that she always had the answers. Heidi would let him come up with an answer once in a while. Heidi wouldn't simply inform him they were leaving their daughter behind at Thanksgiving and expect him not to argue. Heidi wouldn't tell him that his daughter had gotten sexually involved with a couple of boys in the sixth grade, but that she'd handled it and he wasn't to say anything to her. Actually, Spencer was relieved Carly wouldn't let him interfere with Danna that time, because he had no idea what to do. See? He did need both kinds of wife! One to take over when he didn't know what to do, and one to let him make a decision when he did know what to do.
He savored the sentence in Heidi's email where she said she enjoyed babysitting her nieces and nephews. She was kind, respectful, and she loved children. Spencer strongly felt that Heidi would be his plural wife in the celestial kingdom, and that's why she wasn't married now. It was all very romantic. If Carly fussed about him taking a second wife, he would have to put his foot down, but fortunately there was no reason to tell Carly about Heidi until they were all dead. It was a tender mercy that he got to enjoy some of the happiness of his relationship with Heidi in this life as well.
Spencer pulled open the most recent draft of the spreadsheet he was working on and started checking figures. He loved his job.
Tom Nesbitt was packing his lunch when Tracy arrived home from her meeting with the rape survivor's support group. He threw in a couple of Twix bars and a bag of chips while listening to the garage door go back down, and Tracy's car door slam. He dusted off his hands and made sure he knew where a box of tissues was.
Tracy came through the door with a red nose from crying, and a bewildered expression on her face.
Tom handed her a tissue.
She giggled when she took it. "I'm getting predictable, aren't I?"
"You're getting well," Tom said. "I see you changing. You're dropping a wall that's been up for a long time."
Tracy wiped away fresh tears. "You don't mind me crying on you all the time?"
"It was a hundred times worse when you wouldn't cry at all, honey," Tom said. "Come sit down with me."
Tracy let him lead her by the hand into the living room where they sat down on the love seat. Tom put the box of tissues on the end table next to Tracy and sat with her as she sniffled and gathered her thoughts.
"Gloria told more of her story tonight," Tracy said. "She said when she was at the emergency room, one of the nurses snapped at her that she should have expected to get raped because of how she was dressed. Then Shawna said she never told her best friend she'd been raped because she heard her friend say once that women who got raped were asking for it. Our group leader said that one reason people blame the victim is because they're scared they're vulnerable too, and if they can find a reason it was the victim's fault, then they feel safer because they're not like the victim."
"That is the weirdest thing I've ever heard," Tom said.
Tracy wiped her nose and looked at him hard. "But Tom, that's the reason I've been blaming myself all these years."
"Come again?"
"If it was my fault, then I could keep it from happening again. I felt safer if I blamed myself. I wanted to feel safe more than anything else in the whole world. If it was my fault, then all I had to do was find out what I did wrong and never do it again. You know what I decided I did that caused him to rape me?"
"Um," Tom said.
"I decided I was too pretty. That's what he told me when he was raping me. So I gained eighty pounds, quit wearing makeup, and haven't dressed in anything feminine since then. I got as ugly as I could so I would feel safe," Tracy said.
"I think you're beautiful," Tom whispered.
Tracy started to cry again. "It would scare me when you would say that. I thought it meant you wouldn't be able to control yourself."
"No!" Tom protested, "never!"
"I know that now, but it still scared me," Tracy said.
Tom let his head drop against the back of the couch, absolutely confused by the workings of the female mind. "Is that why you don't like it when someone points out that Abby is turning out to be drop-dead gorgeous?"
Tracy nodded.
"Wow, honey."
"I know," Tracy said.
They sat in silence for a few minutes.
"There was another thing that was easier when I blamed myself," Tracy said.
"What's that?"
"I didn't have to forgive him. If it was my fault, then I didn't have to forgive him because I was the one who did something wrong," Tracy said.
"Oh," said Tom, wondering if he ought to talk to her about his conversation with his cousin, Stan Allbright, about forgiveness.
"I'm not ready to do that yet," Tracy said. "I haven't been mad at him because I've been so busy being mad at myself. I want to be mad at him for a while."
"Okay," said Tom, putting all his good advice on hold.
"I'll get there, but not right now," Tracy said.
Tom hugged her.
"There was something else," Tracy said.
"What?"
"You know that scripture that says despair comes because of iniquity?"
"Yes," said Tom.
"I used to beat myself up because I felt despair, and that meant I had committed the iniquity. But you know what? Despair can come because of someone else's iniquity too, if you try to take responsibility for it," said Tracy.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Chapter 55
"I challenge you to a tennis tournament on the Wii tonight. The loser has to shovel the walks next time it snows. Oh wait, you shouldn't be shoveling snow in your condition," Brandon Grayson said to his wife.
"I can shovel snow, Brandon. If I can still snowboard, I can shovel snow. Danna's coming with us again this weekend, by the way," Amanda said.
"She's catching on fast, isn't she?" Brandon said.
"It's fearlessness. She takes the hills like she's daring them to knock her down," Amanda said.
"I'll turn the Wii on," Brandon said, heading into the family room.
"I can't play tennis tonight," Amanda said. "I'm helping Tracy Nesbitt decorate for the ward Christmas party. She's coming to pick me up any minute now."
"Oh, that's right."
"Do you want to come with us?" Amanda asked.
"No, that's all right. I've got some other stuff I ought to do," Brandon said.
"It might be fun," Amanda said.
"Are you sure you feel well enough to go? Aren't you nauseated or anything?" Brandon asked.
"I'm only queasy before breakfast."
"Is that a good sign? How come you haven't been to a doctor yet?" Brandon continued.
"You're starting to sound like Lynnette," Amanda said. "I'm fine, and it's too early for a doctor appointment."
"It just seems like you ought to act more pregnant," Brandon said.
"And what would that mean? Sending you to buy pickles and ice cream? Having hysterical hormone fits? Lying around all day barfing? Let's be happy I'm doing as well as I am," Amanda said.
"Okay," Brandon said. He sat on the edge of the leather recliner and hunched his shoulders. He was trying to make the pregnancy more real, because it hadn't really sunk in yet. It would be easier to start thinking about a baby if Amanda wasn't totally normal.
Headlights flashed across the window as someone pulled into their driveway.
"That's Tracy. I'll be back in a couple hours." Amanda kissed her husband swiftly and headed out the door.
Brandon drew a breath to remind her to take a coat, and then decided not to. He heard the door slam as Amanda got into the minivan and they pulled out of the driveway.
He could go play tennis alone on the Wii. Or not.
He remembered a lady from his childhood ward who got up every month in fast and testimony meeting and teared up about her inactive husband and updated the ward on her efforts to activate him. Even as a child, Brandon had felt sorry for her husband. Amanda wasn't like that, but every woman who goes to Church wants her husband to go with her. He hated knowing he was going to disappoint his wife, and then he was angry that she was setting him up to disappoint her by going back to Church.
"Put a plastic sheet down before you bring in the hay bales," Sister Sheldon instructed.
Tracy Nesbitt and Alicia Shaw spread out a plastic sheet for the hay bales that Brother Sheldon and Eric Shaw were carrying in. The straw in the stable where Christ was born was most likely not packaged neatly into hay bales, but the activities committee did not want to spend hours cleaning up loose hay, so it stayed in hay bales. The Minies were putting up a rough wood frame to suggest the walls of the stable. Amanda was helping Heather Arnold spread yards of coarse cloth over the tables for the food. Heather was about Amanda's age, and the two of them were chattering like magpies.
Tracy pulled out a few handfuls of hay for the manger. They would put a blanket in the manger for the Kirkham's baby tomorrow night and no one would see the hay, but it seemed the right thing to do.
"I wonder how Mary felt about laying the Son of God in a manger," Alicia Shaw said, adding another handful of hay to the manger.
"I would have been embarrassed that I didn't have anything better for him," Tracy said.
Alicia nodded. "That's how I would have felt. But you know what? I believe God planned it this way. He wanted his Son born into a rough, dirty situation. Christ makes his own glory. If Mary and Joseph had been rich, and had been able to welcome him with kingly splendor, then we would try and do the same thing. We would try to make everything glorious before we welcomed him in, but that isn't the way he works. He takes our rough, dirty situations, and uses his glory to transform it. That way we know the glory comes from him and not from us. No one is any better than a filthy feed trough until the Son of God arrives."
Tracy spread another handful of hay in the manger. Alicia Shaw's teenage son had died in a car accident four years ago. At the funeral, Alicia became so hysterical she had to leave. No one saw her for several months after that. But now, Alicia was always the first one to comment in lessons about eternal families or the resurrection, and her comments were usually better than the entire lesson. For the first time, it occurred to Tracy that other sisters in the ward needed the healing power of the Atonement as much as she did.
"I keep trying to make things good enough for Christ," Tracy said.
"How's that working for you?" Alicia asked.
"About as well as you'd expect," Tracy admitted. "I like your feelings about the manger. Christ wasn't embarrassed to be put in a manger, was he?"
"No, he wasn't," Alicia said.
"Ladies! A little help over here, please!" Sister Sheldon called out.
Tracy and Alicia scrambled to help Sister Sheldon hang heavy quilts over the walls. The Minies, finished with the stable, brought their ladder. Sister Minie climbed up to attach ropes to the walls. Sister Minie's thyroid cancer had been in remission for two years now. Tracy had been one of the sisters in the rotation to take in a meal on chemo days, when Sister Minie was as pale as the sheets and her children were wide-eyed with worry.
I'm not all that different from them, Tracy thought. Her eyes drifted over to Amanda and Heather, who were chatting and laughing and not even pretending to work anymore. Tracy didn't know much about Heather, or even much about Amanda, but she felt closer to them anyway.
Tracy felt a pulse of love for these people on the Activities Committee who worshipped Christ by making a basketball gym look like Bethlehem for one night. If Christ didn't mind being put in a manger, he probably thought their Church gym was worthy of his Spirit too.
"That was so much fun!" Amanda gushed as they got back in Tracy's minivan for the short drive home.
"Heather Blumson is a sweet person," Tracy said.
"She's awesome! We went to the same high school, except I graduated the year before she got there," Amanda said.
"I'm glad you came tonight," Tracy said.
"Me too! I'm going to come tomorrow night too and help you guys serve the food and clean up," Amanda laughed. "But don't tell my mom, because she'll totally think it was because she keeps praying for me to go back to Church."
"Maybe it was," Tracy said.
Amanda looked startled.
Carly Simmons dusted twice in one week because her new visiting teachers were coming. She straightened the pictures of Christ and the temple that hung in a flower-draped arrangement with their most recent family portrait and gold-leafed copy of The Proclamation on the Family. She put a copy of the Ensign on the Postum table next to the silk poinsettia. She straightened the ceramic figurines in the nativity. She checked the upholstery on the couch and love seat for spots.
By the time the doorbell rang, Carly was a nervous wreck with a bright smile. "Come in! Can you believe this beautiful winter weather?"
"I keep telling my husband we're moving back to Arizona," Sister Debbie Bodily said.
"I keep telling my mother-in-law that Utah gets snow, just like Germany," Sister Tamara Holtkamp said. "She insists that it doesn't snow in the desert. I send her pictures, but she's made up her mind."
"You should have her come for a visit," Carly said.
"She doesn't travel during winter," Tamara said, taking her boots off and sitting down on the couch next to Debbie.
"My mother-in-law spends winter in Arizona, in an RV that's nicer than my house," Debbie said. "She and my mother get together for spa days and swap pictures of their mutual grandchildren. Then they call and tell me I can join them as soon as all my children leave home."
"That gives you something to look forward to," Tamara said.
"What about your mother-in-law, Carly?" Debbie asked.
"She lives in Nephi. We usually see them at Christmas," Carly said, wishing she had something funny or interesting to add.
"We drive through Nephi," Debbie said.
There was a pause.
"Before we say anything else, I want to tell you how much I appreciate all you do," Debbie said. "I always know I can count on you to take a meal in. I don't know if you hear all the compliments, but people love your cooking. I've had people tell me they want to have surgery or have a baby, just so you'll bring them a lasagna."
Carly beamed. "Anything I can do to help! I'm sure it's a lot of work being the Compassionate Service Leader. It must be hard to find people for all the meals and other help that you have to coordinate."
"It's not all that bad. I make a lot of phone calls, but once you figure out who is willing to help and who isn't, the process goes a lot faster. I love seeing the way everyone pitches in when someone needs help. Sometimes I have women call me and say they have extra food and ask who needs it," Debbie said.
Carly felt guilty that she had never called and offered food, but always waited to be asked. "I could do that too. I'm sorry I haven't offered before."
Debbie waved a hand. "Don't even mention it! I didn't mean to say you have to call and offer food. Half the time I end up turning them down because no one needs the food. If you have extra food, just invite someone over for dinner and make friends with them."
"All right," said Carly, even though she knew she'd never have the courage to invite someone for dinner without a really good reason.
"You should call me more often," Tamara said. "I can volunteer my husband to make schnitzel and spaetzle. I'm more of a beans and rice girl, since I served a mission in Argentina. But Americans are not very impressed with a pan of beans and rice when they've just been in the hospital."
"Fussy Americans," Debbie said, and they laughed together. Carly joined in.
"I have to tell you how much I enjoy your comments in Gospel Doctrine," Tamara said to Carly. "You know so much about Church history that I feel like I ought to call you ahead of time to make sure I haven't missed anything. I love it when your hand goes up in class."
"Oh, it's nothing. My ancestors joined the Church so early that knowing my own family history is the same as knowing Church history. I have an unfair advantage," Carly said.
"That so wonderful!" Tamara said. "I love the pioneer stories. My grandparents joined the Church, so I'm only a third generation member. My husband has some good stories, because his parents joined the Church when he was thirteen. My family missed being the early pioneers, and we're second and third-generation, which means we're not modern-day pioneers either."
"My husband, Spencer, feels like that. His forefathers joined the Church in the 1880s, so they rode the train to Zion. He wishes he had real pioneer stories about people who walked across the plains," Carly said. Actually, she was the one who pointed out that he didn't have any real pioneer stories in his history, but he had agreed with her.
"My husband flew in an airplane to Zion," Tamara said.
"Most of our ancestors crossed the plains," Debbie said. "Then we ended up in Arizona."
"Isn't it wonderful that we all have the same spiritual heritage?" Tamara said.
That provided a nice segue into the lesson, which Debbie gave. After a nice discussion centered on quotes from some General Authorities, Tamara offered the closing prayer and then they got up to leave.
"Thanks so much for letting us come!" Debbie said.
"I'm excited to get to know you better," Tamara added.
"Thanks for coming. It's nice to have visiting teachers to come. And I admire both of you so much," Carly said in reply as they exchanged hugs.
"Give us a call if you need anything," Debbie said on their way out the door.
"Thanks, I will," Carly answered. "Be careful on the sidewalk. There's an icy patch."
She shut the door as they walked away, relieved and happy at the same time, repeating all the nice things they'd said to her. They approved of her. Carly never noticed that she didn't expect anyone to genuinely like her, just approve of her. Being counted on to do and say the right thing made an adequate substitute for friendship.
"I can shovel snow, Brandon. If I can still snowboard, I can shovel snow. Danna's coming with us again this weekend, by the way," Amanda said.
"She's catching on fast, isn't she?" Brandon said.
"It's fearlessness. She takes the hills like she's daring them to knock her down," Amanda said.
"I'll turn the Wii on," Brandon said, heading into the family room.
"I can't play tennis tonight," Amanda said. "I'm helping Tracy Nesbitt decorate for the ward Christmas party. She's coming to pick me up any minute now."
"Oh, that's right."
"Do you want to come with us?" Amanda asked.
"No, that's all right. I've got some other stuff I ought to do," Brandon said.
"It might be fun," Amanda said.
"Are you sure you feel well enough to go? Aren't you nauseated or anything?" Brandon asked.
"I'm only queasy before breakfast."
"Is that a good sign? How come you haven't been to a doctor yet?" Brandon continued.
"You're starting to sound like Lynnette," Amanda said. "I'm fine, and it's too early for a doctor appointment."
"It just seems like you ought to act more pregnant," Brandon said.
"And what would that mean? Sending you to buy pickles and ice cream? Having hysterical hormone fits? Lying around all day barfing? Let's be happy I'm doing as well as I am," Amanda said.
"Okay," Brandon said. He sat on the edge of the leather recliner and hunched his shoulders. He was trying to make the pregnancy more real, because it hadn't really sunk in yet. It would be easier to start thinking about a baby if Amanda wasn't totally normal.
Headlights flashed across the window as someone pulled into their driveway.
"That's Tracy. I'll be back in a couple hours." Amanda kissed her husband swiftly and headed out the door.
Brandon drew a breath to remind her to take a coat, and then decided not to. He heard the door slam as Amanda got into the minivan and they pulled out of the driveway.
He could go play tennis alone on the Wii. Or not.
He remembered a lady from his childhood ward who got up every month in fast and testimony meeting and teared up about her inactive husband and updated the ward on her efforts to activate him. Even as a child, Brandon had felt sorry for her husband. Amanda wasn't like that, but every woman who goes to Church wants her husband to go with her. He hated knowing he was going to disappoint his wife, and then he was angry that she was setting him up to disappoint her by going back to Church.
"Put a plastic sheet down before you bring in the hay bales," Sister Sheldon instructed.
Tracy Nesbitt and Alicia Shaw spread out a plastic sheet for the hay bales that Brother Sheldon and Eric Shaw were carrying in. The straw in the stable where Christ was born was most likely not packaged neatly into hay bales, but the activities committee did not want to spend hours cleaning up loose hay, so it stayed in hay bales. The Minies were putting up a rough wood frame to suggest the walls of the stable. Amanda was helping Heather Arnold spread yards of coarse cloth over the tables for the food. Heather was about Amanda's age, and the two of them were chattering like magpies.
Tracy pulled out a few handfuls of hay for the manger. They would put a blanket in the manger for the Kirkham's baby tomorrow night and no one would see the hay, but it seemed the right thing to do.
"I wonder how Mary felt about laying the Son of God in a manger," Alicia Shaw said, adding another handful of hay to the manger.
"I would have been embarrassed that I didn't have anything better for him," Tracy said.
Alicia nodded. "That's how I would have felt. But you know what? I believe God planned it this way. He wanted his Son born into a rough, dirty situation. Christ makes his own glory. If Mary and Joseph had been rich, and had been able to welcome him with kingly splendor, then we would try and do the same thing. We would try to make everything glorious before we welcomed him in, but that isn't the way he works. He takes our rough, dirty situations, and uses his glory to transform it. That way we know the glory comes from him and not from us. No one is any better than a filthy feed trough until the Son of God arrives."
Tracy spread another handful of hay in the manger. Alicia Shaw's teenage son had died in a car accident four years ago. At the funeral, Alicia became so hysterical she had to leave. No one saw her for several months after that. But now, Alicia was always the first one to comment in lessons about eternal families or the resurrection, and her comments were usually better than the entire lesson. For the first time, it occurred to Tracy that other sisters in the ward needed the healing power of the Atonement as much as she did.
"I keep trying to make things good enough for Christ," Tracy said.
"How's that working for you?" Alicia asked.
"About as well as you'd expect," Tracy admitted. "I like your feelings about the manger. Christ wasn't embarrassed to be put in a manger, was he?"
"No, he wasn't," Alicia said.
"Ladies! A little help over here, please!" Sister Sheldon called out.
Tracy and Alicia scrambled to help Sister Sheldon hang heavy quilts over the walls. The Minies, finished with the stable, brought their ladder. Sister Minie climbed up to attach ropes to the walls. Sister Minie's thyroid cancer had been in remission for two years now. Tracy had been one of the sisters in the rotation to take in a meal on chemo days, when Sister Minie was as pale as the sheets and her children were wide-eyed with worry.
I'm not all that different from them, Tracy thought. Her eyes drifted over to Amanda and Heather, who were chatting and laughing and not even pretending to work anymore. Tracy didn't know much about Heather, or even much about Amanda, but she felt closer to them anyway.
Tracy felt a pulse of love for these people on the Activities Committee who worshipped Christ by making a basketball gym look like Bethlehem for one night. If Christ didn't mind being put in a manger, he probably thought their Church gym was worthy of his Spirit too.
"That was so much fun!" Amanda gushed as they got back in Tracy's minivan for the short drive home.
"Heather Blumson is a sweet person," Tracy said.
"She's awesome! We went to the same high school, except I graduated the year before she got there," Amanda said.
"I'm glad you came tonight," Tracy said.
"Me too! I'm going to come tomorrow night too and help you guys serve the food and clean up," Amanda laughed. "But don't tell my mom, because she'll totally think it was because she keeps praying for me to go back to Church."
"Maybe it was," Tracy said.
Amanda looked startled.
Carly Simmons dusted twice in one week because her new visiting teachers were coming. She straightened the pictures of Christ and the temple that hung in a flower-draped arrangement with their most recent family portrait and gold-leafed copy of The Proclamation on the Family. She put a copy of the Ensign on the Postum table next to the silk poinsettia. She straightened the ceramic figurines in the nativity. She checked the upholstery on the couch and love seat for spots.
By the time the doorbell rang, Carly was a nervous wreck with a bright smile. "Come in! Can you believe this beautiful winter weather?"
"I keep telling my husband we're moving back to Arizona," Sister Debbie Bodily said.
"I keep telling my mother-in-law that Utah gets snow, just like Germany," Sister Tamara Holtkamp said. "She insists that it doesn't snow in the desert. I send her pictures, but she's made up her mind."
"You should have her come for a visit," Carly said.
"She doesn't travel during winter," Tamara said, taking her boots off and sitting down on the couch next to Debbie.
"My mother-in-law spends winter in Arizona, in an RV that's nicer than my house," Debbie said. "She and my mother get together for spa days and swap pictures of their mutual grandchildren. Then they call and tell me I can join them as soon as all my children leave home."
"That gives you something to look forward to," Tamara said.
"What about your mother-in-law, Carly?" Debbie asked.
"She lives in Nephi. We usually see them at Christmas," Carly said, wishing she had something funny or interesting to add.
"We drive through Nephi," Debbie said.
There was a pause.
"Before we say anything else, I want to tell you how much I appreciate all you do," Debbie said. "I always know I can count on you to take a meal in. I don't know if you hear all the compliments, but people love your cooking. I've had people tell me they want to have surgery or have a baby, just so you'll bring them a lasagna."
Carly beamed. "Anything I can do to help! I'm sure it's a lot of work being the Compassionate Service Leader. It must be hard to find people for all the meals and other help that you have to coordinate."
"It's not all that bad. I make a lot of phone calls, but once you figure out who is willing to help and who isn't, the process goes a lot faster. I love seeing the way everyone pitches in when someone needs help. Sometimes I have women call me and say they have extra food and ask who needs it," Debbie said.
Carly felt guilty that she had never called and offered food, but always waited to be asked. "I could do that too. I'm sorry I haven't offered before."
Debbie waved a hand. "Don't even mention it! I didn't mean to say you have to call and offer food. Half the time I end up turning them down because no one needs the food. If you have extra food, just invite someone over for dinner and make friends with them."
"All right," said Carly, even though she knew she'd never have the courage to invite someone for dinner without a really good reason.
"You should call me more often," Tamara said. "I can volunteer my husband to make schnitzel and spaetzle. I'm more of a beans and rice girl, since I served a mission in Argentina. But Americans are not very impressed with a pan of beans and rice when they've just been in the hospital."
"Fussy Americans," Debbie said, and they laughed together. Carly joined in.
"I have to tell you how much I enjoy your comments in Gospel Doctrine," Tamara said to Carly. "You know so much about Church history that I feel like I ought to call you ahead of time to make sure I haven't missed anything. I love it when your hand goes up in class."
"Oh, it's nothing. My ancestors joined the Church so early that knowing my own family history is the same as knowing Church history. I have an unfair advantage," Carly said.
"That so wonderful!" Tamara said. "I love the pioneer stories. My grandparents joined the Church, so I'm only a third generation member. My husband has some good stories, because his parents joined the Church when he was thirteen. My family missed being the early pioneers, and we're second and third-generation, which means we're not modern-day pioneers either."
"My husband, Spencer, feels like that. His forefathers joined the Church in the 1880s, so they rode the train to Zion. He wishes he had real pioneer stories about people who walked across the plains," Carly said. Actually, she was the one who pointed out that he didn't have any real pioneer stories in his history, but he had agreed with her.
"My husband flew in an airplane to Zion," Tamara said.
"Most of our ancestors crossed the plains," Debbie said. "Then we ended up in Arizona."
"Isn't it wonderful that we all have the same spiritual heritage?" Tamara said.
That provided a nice segue into the lesson, which Debbie gave. After a nice discussion centered on quotes from some General Authorities, Tamara offered the closing prayer and then they got up to leave.
"Thanks so much for letting us come!" Debbie said.
"I'm excited to get to know you better," Tamara added.
"Thanks for coming. It's nice to have visiting teachers to come. And I admire both of you so much," Carly said in reply as they exchanged hugs.
"Give us a call if you need anything," Debbie said on their way out the door.
"Thanks, I will," Carly answered. "Be careful on the sidewalk. There's an icy patch."
She shut the door as they walked away, relieved and happy at the same time, repeating all the nice things they'd said to her. They approved of her. Carly never noticed that she didn't expect anyone to genuinely like her, just approve of her. Being counted on to do and say the right thing made an adequate substitute for friendship.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Chapter 54
"How was Thanksgiving?" Nicole asked Amber, plopping down on the couch while Jayden and Carson ran off to join the rest of the children at the play date.
"It was a lot of fun. I tried a new stuffing recipe and everyone liked it," Amber said. "How was yours?"
"It turned out really well. Sometimes I wonder how we can get that many people into one house, but it always works out and we have a great time," Nicole said.
"I love the holidays we spend with Devin's family. It makes me so grateful for my own life. He's got an aunt and uncle that won't talk to each other because the aunt borrowed the uncle's car and didn't fill up the tank so the uncle ran out of gas on the way to work. That happened twenty years ago. Can you believe it?" Megan said.
"Did she apologize?" Tiffany asked.
"Yeah, like four hundred times, but he doesn't care. So they come to family parties and spend the whole time refusing to even look at each other," Megan said.
"That's really mean that he wouldn't accept her apology," Nicole said.
"Sometimes it takes people time to get over being angry if you do something wrong, even if you apologize," Amber said.
"Twenty years is too long," Nicole said.
"Twenty minutes is too long," Tiffany said.
Jayden hauled a bucket of Legos over the couch and dumped them out. "Build!" he instructed mom.
"Mom's busy. Play with Bryson," Nicole said.
"I'm going to build a tower," Bryson said. "It's going to be the tallest tower ever!"
"Tower," Jayden agreed.
"That's not even the best story," Megan said. "There's this genuine silver gravy boat that's been in the family for generations, and three generations ago, the grandma that owned it forgot to say who would inherit it when she died. Devin's grandma and great-aunt went to court about that gravy boat. The settlement said they have to trade off every year. Whichever one has the gravy boat that year has to bring the mashed potatoes and gravy."
"What a way to make food assignments," Nicole said.
"The one who doesn't have the gravy boat that year always comments on how bland the gravy is, and how lumpy the mashed potatoes are," Megan said.
"When do you inherit the gravy boat?" Nicole asked.
"Never. It's entailed to the female descendants. Devin isn't eligible to inherit the gravy boat," Megan said.
"Bummer," Nicole said.
"Yeah, he gets the lucky horseshoe," Megan said.
"That's a joke, right?" Nicole asked.
"I wish! One of his pioneer ancestors was a lookout when Johnston's Army invaded Utah. He galloped on his horse to alert Brigham Young when the Army was approaching. Later, when he checked his horse, he found that all the nails had come out of one horseshoe, and yet the horseshoe was still attached. Devin's family has kept that miraculous horseshoe ever since. The oldest male inherits it," Megan said.
"I swear I am not laughing," Nicole said.
"I think it's a sweet story," Tiffany said.
"Put on," Jayden interrupted, handing Nicole a Lego and pointing at his growing tower.
"I can put it on," Bryson said, taking the Lego from Nicole and sticking it on Jayden's tower.
"Those treasures of family heritage are important to pass on to our children," Amber said. "Zach's grandfather still has a set of tongs that his grandfather used as a blacksmith."
"That sounds better than a lucky horseshoe," Megan said. "Devin says we have to nail it up over our front door next to vinyl lettering that says 'Return with Honor.'"
"We've got one of those signs," Tiffany said. "And I've ordered the most darling vinyl lettering that says 'All Because Two People Fell In Love' and we're going to put it around all our family portraits."
"No! Mine!" Jayden said, grabbing a Lego that Bryson had swiped.
"I had it first!" Bryson protested. "You give it back! Mom, make him give it back!"
"No, you have to share," Megan said.
"But mom!" Bryson said.
"How old is Jayden?" Megan asked Nicole.
"He turned three in October," Nicole said.
"He's only two months younger than Bryson?" Megan asked.
Nicole shrugged.
"Huh," Megan turned back to the two boys. "Have you had him evaluated for his language delay?"
"Excuse me?"
"Listen to him. Bryson hasn't talked like that since he was two," Megan said.
Nicole stared at Jayden. Carson was the one with problems. Jayden's job was to be normal and not make her worry at all. "I understand everything he says," she said.
"Does he ever speak in sentences?" Megan asked.
"Of course he does. He talks more when there aren't so many people around," Nicole said.
"They have really good remedial programs for delayed children," Tiffany said. "You can get him into Headstart so he isn't behind when he starts kindergarten."
"He doesn't need a remedial program," Nicole said, stung.
"Yellow block, mom," Jayden said, handing her a Lego.
"He knows his colors and numbers and most of his letters," Nicole said.
"Still, if he's not speaking in sentences," Megan shook her head. "Does he answer questions? Jayden, what's your name? How old are you?"
Jayden smiled shyly at Megan and then hid behind Nicole's arm.
"Don't quiz him like that. He's fine. You're making him nervous," Nicole said, pulling Jayden into her arms.
"My name's Bryson and I'm three!" Bryson announced.
"That's right, honey," Megan complimented him with a hug.
"My cousin's son was speech delayed, but when they tested him, they diagnosed him with Aspberger's Syndrome. That's on the autism spectrum, you know," Amber said.
"Jayden isn't autistic. He's a sociable, happy little kid who talks just fine," Nicole said. "Bryson is ahead of his age."
"Bryson's pretty average," Megan said. "You really ought to get your pediatrician to refer you to a speech and language pathologist. The earlier you get help, the faster they can fix the problem."
"Problem?" Jayden echoed.
"You're just fine, sweetheart," Nicole said fiercely, kissing him on the forehead. "You go play."
"Go play!" Jayden agreed, and ran off to take a doll away from Carson.
Nicole sat through as much of the conversation about speech delays, autism, learning disabilities, and ADHD as she could stand before announcing that it was time for Carson's nap and they needed to leave.
He finished. He cleared the history in the Internet browser in case his wife checked. He put his head down on the keyboard.
Something is breaking loose, God. I'm so afraid. I'm not afraid for myself, because I wrote myself off a long time ago. But help my family survive whatever is about to destroy me. It's coming, and I'm going to die. And you know what? I'm relieved.
He heard a whisper:
When lust hath conceived, it brings forth sin: and sin, when it is finished, brings forth death.
Stephanie Simmons finished her pre-algebra homework, doublechecked it, and then tucked it into her math folder. She doodled algebra symbols on a blank page, wishing her homework had taken longer. Tonight was the night she had scheduled herself to talk to Danna and fix her problems, but the time had passed much more quickly than she had thought it would. Still, a peacemaker couldn't back out simply because she was nervous. If she could convince Danna to quit antagonizing mom, then mom wouldn't yell anymore. That vision gave her the gumption to put down her doodles and find Danna.
Danna was in her pajamas already, eating a bag of Sun Chips and reading a book with magical creatures on the cover. Stephanie frowned. Their mother disapproved of junk food; she must have bought the Sun Chips at school and brought them home. Their mother also disapproved of fantasy novels as a waste of time. Stephanie never read any books besides the ones required at school, and ones sold at Deseret Book. Danna shouldn't disobey their mother like that. Still, if she was going to talk to Danna, she probably shouldn't start out by criticizing her.
"Is that a good book?" Stephanie asked.
"Yeah," Danna said, looking up in surprise. "It's about these kids that find a magical kingdom that needs to be saved. Do you want to borrow it when I'm done?"
"Maybe," Stephanie said. "I wanted to tell you that we missed you on Thanksgiving."
No one else had mentioned Thanksgiving.
Danna studied the cover of the book. "I ate dinner with the Andersons. They were really nice."
"I wish you would have changed clothes and come with us," Stephanie said.
"Mom shouldn't have left without me," Danna said. "Parents shouldn't punish their kids by abandoning them."
"It's not that she wanted to abandon you," Stephanie explained. "It's just that she likes everything to be perfect. She's got really high standards and expects us to live up to them. She's really a nice person if you do what she wants you to do."
"I used to do everything she wanted me to do," Danna said softly.
"I know you did!" Stephanie said. "Remember how she used to curl our ponytails in ringlets and put matching ribbons in?"
"And she bought us those matching dresses with the pink lace on them. Remember those?" Danna said.
"Yes! Those were the best twirling dresses. We used to spin around until we got so dizzy we fell over," Stephanie said. "And remember the Christmas we got a Barbie house that was three stories tall?"
"It's still down in the basement. I loved that whole suitcase full of fancy dresses for our Barbies. Those pink lace dresses reminded me of a Barbie dress," Danna said. "I wanted to grow up and be a fashion designer."
"Me too! I've still got a box full of papers with drawings on them of all the dresses I was going to make. I still want to learn to sew," Stephanie said.
Danna lay down on her bed. "That would be neat, wouldn't it? We could make our own Halloween costumes."
"I bet mom would learn how to sew and then teach us if we asked her," Stephanie said.
Danna shrugged.
"What happened?" Stephanie asked.
"What do you mean, what happened?" Danna asked.
"Just that you and mom used to be best friends, and then suddenly you weren't anymore," Stephanie said. If she could find out what went wrong and fix it, then everything could go back to the way it used to be, when mom was happy and her sister played dolls with her.
Danna blinked. Stephanie held her breath. She and Danna hadn't been close in years, but they used to be. Stephanie hoped those memories were enough for Danna to confide in her.
"You really want to know?" Danna said.
"Well, yes, but only if you want to tell me," Stephanie said, nervous again.
"I had to start wearing a bra in sixth grade, and it wasn't just a training bra," Danna said. "You don't have that problem."
Stephanie blushed. She wished she needed more than a training bra. But still, it was weird to hear someone talk about bras out loud. They avoided indelicate subjects, like developing bodies, at their house.
"There were these two boys in my class who used to call me 'boobs' and ask me if I stuffed balloons in my shirt. That sort of thing. One day at recess, a lot of the kids were playing tag and I was playing too. Those boys grabbed me and said they had a game they wanted me to play. I didn't like them, but it's not like I had a lot of other friends, you know? So I went with them." Danna swallowed.
Stephanie was suddenly absolutely sure that she did not want to hear another word.
"You know where all those bushes grow by the corner of the school past the playground? They took me there. Then they pulled my shirt off and touched me and laughed at me and told me lots of dirty things they wanted to do. I was too scared to cry, or scream or run away," Danna said, her voice going flat and distant.
Stephanie knew exactly how it felt to be too scared to cry, scream or run away. She felt like that right now.
"The next day they did it again, only this time they laid down on top of me and pinched me until I kissed them and told them I liked it." Danna started to cry.
Stephanie wanted to throw up.
"The third time, after they finished, I told them I was going to tell on them and to leave me alone. They called me a baby and a tattletale and said I really liked it because I'd said so, and girls with big boobs like stuff like that. They said they were going to bring me a magazine next time that showed girls liking it, and they only picked me because I had the biggest boobs in sixth grade. I told them I hated them and they should stay away from me and I was going to tell on them," Danna said.
Stephanie was bent double, holding her stomach. Danna didn't see her because she was lying flat on her back, looking past the ceiling.
"I told on them," Danna whispered. "I told mom what those boys did. And mom asked me why I let them do it three times. And she wanted to know why I didn't scream and run away. And then she slapped my face and told me I must have liked it if I let it happen all those times, and she didn't raise me to be a little slut and I needed to repent. She told me good girls don't do stuff like that."
She told mom?!? Stephanie knew better than to tell mom anything mom didn't want to hear. Danna was a very bad judge of character if she'd told mom. Of course mom would get mad about that! Mom had very high standards, and Danna hadn't lived up to them. There was no way around that. Stephanie changed her goal from fixing the relationship between Danna and mom to getting out of there before Danna told her anything else.
"The next day I lied and told those boys that my mom and dad would kill them if they ever touched me again. They called me names, but they didn't touch me again. I told the teacher I had a sprained ankle so I could stay in from recess for a long time," Danna said.
How could she make Danna shut up? The fastest way to end one of mom's tirades was to agree with her. What could she say to agree with Danna and make her stop talking?
"It must have been really scary that there were two of them," Stephanie said.
Danna stopped talking, put her hands over her face, and cried. "Yeah," she choked out.
That was enough of a pause for Stephanie. "I better get to bed," she said. She shut Danna's door behind her, wild-eyed. She went in her own room and sat cross-legged on her bed, holding her pillow tightly against her stomach. Danna's problem could not be fixed. Why had she been dumb enough to tell mom? Well, if Danna was that stupid, along with being impure, then Stephanie would have to change tactics. The best way to bring peace to the family would be to shut Danna out. Imperfect people had no place in the Simmons family.
Danna cried for a long time after Stephanie left. They were tears of pain, but more than that this time. There was some relief and healing in these tears. Stephanie had said it was scary that there were two of them. Those were the only words of kindness or validation Danna had ever heard about the attacks. Danna memorized them and clutched them to her heart and soul.
Her mother punished her for being attacked. Like any child, Danna believed every word her mother said. She truly was a dirty whore because she had attracted those boys' attention. Her body had betrayed her by growing filthy, awful body parts that attracted boys. Her very essence was wrong. Danna joined with her mother to punish herself for what had happened. If only her mom could see how much she agreed with her mom's judgment that she was a bad person, she would be nice to her again. But it didn't work that way.
Over the years, Danna started fighting back. She wasn't defending herself as much as she was attacking her mom. If only her mom could admit that she wasn't perfect, then maybe she could accept Danna in her imperfections. Her mother would never admit that. Danna continued to believe that her mother was as perfect as she said she was. Still, the fights were the closest emotional connection she had with her mother, so she continued fighting with her even though she knew she should always lose.
But Sister Anderson said her mom was wrong about Personal Progress. And Brandon Grayson said her mom was wrong to leave her behind, no matter how she was dressed. And Stephanie agreed that it would be scary to have two boys attack you. And there was that strange and beautiful experience at the Andersons, when she had felt God's love. Danna rolled off the bed and got the painting of Christ out of its hiding place. As she looked at it, she thought that maybe Christ knew she felt bad that she'd caused those boys to attack her. Maybe someday Christ could forgive her for having a woman's body when she should have still been a child.
"It was a lot of fun. I tried a new stuffing recipe and everyone liked it," Amber said. "How was yours?"
"It turned out really well. Sometimes I wonder how we can get that many people into one house, but it always works out and we have a great time," Nicole said.
"I love the holidays we spend with Devin's family. It makes me so grateful for my own life. He's got an aunt and uncle that won't talk to each other because the aunt borrowed the uncle's car and didn't fill up the tank so the uncle ran out of gas on the way to work. That happened twenty years ago. Can you believe it?" Megan said.
"Did she apologize?" Tiffany asked.
"Yeah, like four hundred times, but he doesn't care. So they come to family parties and spend the whole time refusing to even look at each other," Megan said.
"That's really mean that he wouldn't accept her apology," Nicole said.
"Sometimes it takes people time to get over being angry if you do something wrong, even if you apologize," Amber said.
"Twenty years is too long," Nicole said.
"Twenty minutes is too long," Tiffany said.
Jayden hauled a bucket of Legos over the couch and dumped them out. "Build!" he instructed mom.
"Mom's busy. Play with Bryson," Nicole said.
"I'm going to build a tower," Bryson said. "It's going to be the tallest tower ever!"
"Tower," Jayden agreed.
"That's not even the best story," Megan said. "There's this genuine silver gravy boat that's been in the family for generations, and three generations ago, the grandma that owned it forgot to say who would inherit it when she died. Devin's grandma and great-aunt went to court about that gravy boat. The settlement said they have to trade off every year. Whichever one has the gravy boat that year has to bring the mashed potatoes and gravy."
"What a way to make food assignments," Nicole said.
"The one who doesn't have the gravy boat that year always comments on how bland the gravy is, and how lumpy the mashed potatoes are," Megan said.
"When do you inherit the gravy boat?" Nicole asked.
"Never. It's entailed to the female descendants. Devin isn't eligible to inherit the gravy boat," Megan said.
"Bummer," Nicole said.
"Yeah, he gets the lucky horseshoe," Megan said.
"That's a joke, right?" Nicole asked.
"I wish! One of his pioneer ancestors was a lookout when Johnston's Army invaded Utah. He galloped on his horse to alert Brigham Young when the Army was approaching. Later, when he checked his horse, he found that all the nails had come out of one horseshoe, and yet the horseshoe was still attached. Devin's family has kept that miraculous horseshoe ever since. The oldest male inherits it," Megan said.
"I swear I am not laughing," Nicole said.
"I think it's a sweet story," Tiffany said.
"Put on," Jayden interrupted, handing Nicole a Lego and pointing at his growing tower.
"I can put it on," Bryson said, taking the Lego from Nicole and sticking it on Jayden's tower.
"Those treasures of family heritage are important to pass on to our children," Amber said. "Zach's grandfather still has a set of tongs that his grandfather used as a blacksmith."
"That sounds better than a lucky horseshoe," Megan said. "Devin says we have to nail it up over our front door next to vinyl lettering that says 'Return with Honor.'"
"We've got one of those signs," Tiffany said. "And I've ordered the most darling vinyl lettering that says 'All Because Two People Fell In Love' and we're going to put it around all our family portraits."
"No! Mine!" Jayden said, grabbing a Lego that Bryson had swiped.
"I had it first!" Bryson protested. "You give it back! Mom, make him give it back!"
"No, you have to share," Megan said.
"But mom!" Bryson said.
"How old is Jayden?" Megan asked Nicole.
"He turned three in October," Nicole said.
"He's only two months younger than Bryson?" Megan asked.
Nicole shrugged.
"Huh," Megan turned back to the two boys. "Have you had him evaluated for his language delay?"
"Excuse me?"
"Listen to him. Bryson hasn't talked like that since he was two," Megan said.
Nicole stared at Jayden. Carson was the one with problems. Jayden's job was to be normal and not make her worry at all. "I understand everything he says," she said.
"Does he ever speak in sentences?" Megan asked.
"Of course he does. He talks more when there aren't so many people around," Nicole said.
"They have really good remedial programs for delayed children," Tiffany said. "You can get him into Headstart so he isn't behind when he starts kindergarten."
"He doesn't need a remedial program," Nicole said, stung.
"Yellow block, mom," Jayden said, handing her a Lego.
"He knows his colors and numbers and most of his letters," Nicole said.
"Still, if he's not speaking in sentences," Megan shook her head. "Does he answer questions? Jayden, what's your name? How old are you?"
Jayden smiled shyly at Megan and then hid behind Nicole's arm.
"Don't quiz him like that. He's fine. You're making him nervous," Nicole said, pulling Jayden into her arms.
"My name's Bryson and I'm three!" Bryson announced.
"That's right, honey," Megan complimented him with a hug.
"My cousin's son was speech delayed, but when they tested him, they diagnosed him with Aspberger's Syndrome. That's on the autism spectrum, you know," Amber said.
"Jayden isn't autistic. He's a sociable, happy little kid who talks just fine," Nicole said. "Bryson is ahead of his age."
"Bryson's pretty average," Megan said. "You really ought to get your pediatrician to refer you to a speech and language pathologist. The earlier you get help, the faster they can fix the problem."
"Problem?" Jayden echoed.
"You're just fine, sweetheart," Nicole said fiercely, kissing him on the forehead. "You go play."
"Go play!" Jayden agreed, and ran off to take a doll away from Carson.
Nicole sat through as much of the conversation about speech delays, autism, learning disabilities, and ADHD as she could stand before announcing that it was time for Carson's nap and they needed to leave.
He finished. He cleared the history in the Internet browser in case his wife checked. He put his head down on the keyboard.
Something is breaking loose, God. I'm so afraid. I'm not afraid for myself, because I wrote myself off a long time ago. But help my family survive whatever is about to destroy me. It's coming, and I'm going to die. And you know what? I'm relieved.
He heard a whisper:
When lust hath conceived, it brings forth sin: and sin, when it is finished, brings forth death.
Stephanie Simmons finished her pre-algebra homework, doublechecked it, and then tucked it into her math folder. She doodled algebra symbols on a blank page, wishing her homework had taken longer. Tonight was the night she had scheduled herself to talk to Danna and fix her problems, but the time had passed much more quickly than she had thought it would. Still, a peacemaker couldn't back out simply because she was nervous. If she could convince Danna to quit antagonizing mom, then mom wouldn't yell anymore. That vision gave her the gumption to put down her doodles and find Danna.
Danna was in her pajamas already, eating a bag of Sun Chips and reading a book with magical creatures on the cover. Stephanie frowned. Their mother disapproved of junk food; she must have bought the Sun Chips at school and brought them home. Their mother also disapproved of fantasy novels as a waste of time. Stephanie never read any books besides the ones required at school, and ones sold at Deseret Book. Danna shouldn't disobey their mother like that. Still, if she was going to talk to Danna, she probably shouldn't start out by criticizing her.
"Is that a good book?" Stephanie asked.
"Yeah," Danna said, looking up in surprise. "It's about these kids that find a magical kingdom that needs to be saved. Do you want to borrow it when I'm done?"
"Maybe," Stephanie said. "I wanted to tell you that we missed you on Thanksgiving."
No one else had mentioned Thanksgiving.
Danna studied the cover of the book. "I ate dinner with the Andersons. They were really nice."
"I wish you would have changed clothes and come with us," Stephanie said.
"Mom shouldn't have left without me," Danna said. "Parents shouldn't punish their kids by abandoning them."
"It's not that she wanted to abandon you," Stephanie explained. "It's just that she likes everything to be perfect. She's got really high standards and expects us to live up to them. She's really a nice person if you do what she wants you to do."
"I used to do everything she wanted me to do," Danna said softly.
"I know you did!" Stephanie said. "Remember how she used to curl our ponytails in ringlets and put matching ribbons in?"
"And she bought us those matching dresses with the pink lace on them. Remember those?" Danna said.
"Yes! Those were the best twirling dresses. We used to spin around until we got so dizzy we fell over," Stephanie said. "And remember the Christmas we got a Barbie house that was three stories tall?"
"It's still down in the basement. I loved that whole suitcase full of fancy dresses for our Barbies. Those pink lace dresses reminded me of a Barbie dress," Danna said. "I wanted to grow up and be a fashion designer."
"Me too! I've still got a box full of papers with drawings on them of all the dresses I was going to make. I still want to learn to sew," Stephanie said.
Danna lay down on her bed. "That would be neat, wouldn't it? We could make our own Halloween costumes."
"I bet mom would learn how to sew and then teach us if we asked her," Stephanie said.
Danna shrugged.
"What happened?" Stephanie asked.
"What do you mean, what happened?" Danna asked.
"Just that you and mom used to be best friends, and then suddenly you weren't anymore," Stephanie said. If she could find out what went wrong and fix it, then everything could go back to the way it used to be, when mom was happy and her sister played dolls with her.
Danna blinked. Stephanie held her breath. She and Danna hadn't been close in years, but they used to be. Stephanie hoped those memories were enough for Danna to confide in her.
"You really want to know?" Danna said.
"Well, yes, but only if you want to tell me," Stephanie said, nervous again.
"I had to start wearing a bra in sixth grade, and it wasn't just a training bra," Danna said. "You don't have that problem."
Stephanie blushed. She wished she needed more than a training bra. But still, it was weird to hear someone talk about bras out loud. They avoided indelicate subjects, like developing bodies, at their house.
"There were these two boys in my class who used to call me 'boobs' and ask me if I stuffed balloons in my shirt. That sort of thing. One day at recess, a lot of the kids were playing tag and I was playing too. Those boys grabbed me and said they had a game they wanted me to play. I didn't like them, but it's not like I had a lot of other friends, you know? So I went with them." Danna swallowed.
Stephanie was suddenly absolutely sure that she did not want to hear another word.
"You know where all those bushes grow by the corner of the school past the playground? They took me there. Then they pulled my shirt off and touched me and laughed at me and told me lots of dirty things they wanted to do. I was too scared to cry, or scream or run away," Danna said, her voice going flat and distant.
Stephanie knew exactly how it felt to be too scared to cry, scream or run away. She felt like that right now.
"The next day they did it again, only this time they laid down on top of me and pinched me until I kissed them and told them I liked it." Danna started to cry.
Stephanie wanted to throw up.
"The third time, after they finished, I told them I was going to tell on them and to leave me alone. They called me a baby and a tattletale and said I really liked it because I'd said so, and girls with big boobs like stuff like that. They said they were going to bring me a magazine next time that showed girls liking it, and they only picked me because I had the biggest boobs in sixth grade. I told them I hated them and they should stay away from me and I was going to tell on them," Danna said.
Stephanie was bent double, holding her stomach. Danna didn't see her because she was lying flat on her back, looking past the ceiling.
"I told on them," Danna whispered. "I told mom what those boys did. And mom asked me why I let them do it three times. And she wanted to know why I didn't scream and run away. And then she slapped my face and told me I must have liked it if I let it happen all those times, and she didn't raise me to be a little slut and I needed to repent. She told me good girls don't do stuff like that."
She told mom?!? Stephanie knew better than to tell mom anything mom didn't want to hear. Danna was a very bad judge of character if she'd told mom. Of course mom would get mad about that! Mom had very high standards, and Danna hadn't lived up to them. There was no way around that. Stephanie changed her goal from fixing the relationship between Danna and mom to getting out of there before Danna told her anything else.
"The next day I lied and told those boys that my mom and dad would kill them if they ever touched me again. They called me names, but they didn't touch me again. I told the teacher I had a sprained ankle so I could stay in from recess for a long time," Danna said.
How could she make Danna shut up? The fastest way to end one of mom's tirades was to agree with her. What could she say to agree with Danna and make her stop talking?
"It must have been really scary that there were two of them," Stephanie said.
Danna stopped talking, put her hands over her face, and cried. "Yeah," she choked out.
That was enough of a pause for Stephanie. "I better get to bed," she said. She shut Danna's door behind her, wild-eyed. She went in her own room and sat cross-legged on her bed, holding her pillow tightly against her stomach. Danna's problem could not be fixed. Why had she been dumb enough to tell mom? Well, if Danna was that stupid, along with being impure, then Stephanie would have to change tactics. The best way to bring peace to the family would be to shut Danna out. Imperfect people had no place in the Simmons family.
Danna cried for a long time after Stephanie left. They were tears of pain, but more than that this time. There was some relief and healing in these tears. Stephanie had said it was scary that there were two of them. Those were the only words of kindness or validation Danna had ever heard about the attacks. Danna memorized them and clutched them to her heart and soul.
Her mother punished her for being attacked. Like any child, Danna believed every word her mother said. She truly was a dirty whore because she had attracted those boys' attention. Her body had betrayed her by growing filthy, awful body parts that attracted boys. Her very essence was wrong. Danna joined with her mother to punish herself for what had happened. If only her mom could see how much she agreed with her mom's judgment that she was a bad person, she would be nice to her again. But it didn't work that way.
Over the years, Danna started fighting back. She wasn't defending herself as much as she was attacking her mom. If only her mom could admit that she wasn't perfect, then maybe she could accept Danna in her imperfections. Her mother would never admit that. Danna continued to believe that her mother was as perfect as she said she was. Still, the fights were the closest emotional connection she had with her mother, so she continued fighting with her even though she knew she should always lose.
But Sister Anderson said her mom was wrong about Personal Progress. And Brandon Grayson said her mom was wrong to leave her behind, no matter how she was dressed. And Stephanie agreed that it would be scary to have two boys attack you. And there was that strange and beautiful experience at the Andersons, when she had felt God's love. Danna rolled off the bed and got the painting of Christ out of its hiding place. As she looked at it, she thought that maybe Christ knew she felt bad that she'd caused those boys to attack her. Maybe someday Christ could forgive her for having a woman's body when she should have still been a child.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Chapter 53
Sister Snow handed Carly Simmons a sheaf of papers. "Here are the new visiting teaching assignments. I feel bad we didn't get these out last month, but you know how things go."
"I completely understand. It happens to me all the time," Carly said, privately thinking that Sister Steele was not organized enough to be the Visiting Teaching Coordinator and if they promoted Carly from Supervisor to Coordinator, those assignments would have been ready in October.
"I knew you would. Let me know if you need help passing out the new assignment slips," Sister Snow said, giving Carly's hand a squeeze before dashing off to attend to another Relief Society detail before class started.
Carly thumbed through her list, noticing whose assignments had changed. She and Tracy Nesbitt still visited the same women. She checked the women assigned to her and sat up straighter with a thrill of anticipation. Sister Lofgren and Sister Carpenter weren't her visiting teachers anymore. Instead, Sister Tamara Holtkamp and Sister Debbie Bodily were visiting her. Sisters Lofgren and Carpenter were nice enough, but they were just Primary teachers, and didn't come very often anyway. Sister Holtkamp was the Gospel Doctrine teacher, and Sister Bodily was the Compassionate Service Leader – two of the ward's spiritual heavyweights! Sister Holtkamp's team teacher in Gospel Doctrine had been released two weeks ago, and she was now swapping weeks with members of the Sunday School Presidency. And Sister Nixon had been Relief Society President for more than three years now, which meant a change would not be unexpected.
Not that Carly ever aspired to a calling, but it was pretty obvious that inspiration had thrown her together with a Gospel Doctrine teacher, and the woman in line to be the next Relief Society President. This next year could be the year that a priesthood leader finally called her to a position worthy of her talents!
Amanda Grayson zipped into her sister-in-law's driveway after work. Before she could hop out, Lynnette Bellamy appeared, dashed down the steps, and got into the car.
"You're not excited or anything, are you?" Amanda asked her.
Lynnette spread ads all over Amanda's dashboard. "This year, we are absolutely going to buy for our nieces and nephews before we go shopping for ourselves. Toy stores first, absolutely."
"You know Adelaide is old enough to start thinking clothes are a cool Christmas gift. Maybe we should start with her. We could go to the children's department at Kohl's," Amanda said.
"You think you're so funny," Lynnette replied. "We are going to look at train sets at Toys R Us before we go anywhere else. Nick, Blake and Colton are all getting train sets this year. They're on a major awesome sale."
"Aren't they getting a little bit old for train sets? What about race cars instead?" Amanda asked.
"Yeah, they're on sale too. We are definitely buying our nephews things that go vroom," Lynnette said.
"I saw an ad for an entire tea set, including a pink table and chairs, that is the perfect size for Leila and Flora. What do you think?" Amanda said.
"Should we get Olivia one too?" Lynnette asked.
"It was still kind of pricey for a gift for one person. If Leila and Flora share it, then the price works out okay. We'll find something else for Olivia," Amanda said.
They pulled into the parking lot of Toys R Us for their annual aunt splurge. In Brandon's family of four, only two of the siblings had children. Amanda and Lynnette, the childless aunts, made an annual event out of buying their nieces and nephews gifts that frequently outshone the gifts from their grandparents.
"Job check," Amanda said. "Are either you or Clint worried about losing your job?"
"I work at a retirement community. They can't outsource me. And Clint has actually seen work increase in the last few months. Go figure," Lynnette said. "What about you guys?"
"We're good. Pull out the plastic."
"Charge!" Lynnette said.
They had three race tracks in their cart and were looking at dollhouses when Amanda finally decided that Lynnette was more excited than their shopping trip warranted. "You've got the giggles," she accused her sister-in-law.
"What makes you say that?" Lynnette asked, giggling.
"You are positively giddy about doll clothes. I thought that blue dress was darling too, but I didn't get all teary about it. Spill it," Amanda said.
"It's a girl, but you have to promise not to tell anyone because we just found out!" Lynnette said.
Amanda stared at her. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
Lynnette teared up again. "The social worker said it would take a couple years, but a birth mother already chose us. She was going to keep the baby, but changed her mind. It's a girl and she's due in February. They called us two days ago. We're going to be parents in three months!"
Amanda teared up too. "Oh my gosh! I'm buying your daughter a dollhouse!"
"You can't tell anyone! We're still freaking out!" Lynnette said.
"My period is four days late," Amanda blurted out.
Lynnette dropped the doll furniture she was holding, and inhaled so much that Amanda suspected the air pressure in the store dropped. "My daughter's going to have a cousin her same age to play with!"
"Oh, come on! Talk about freaking out! I haven't even taken a pregnancy test yet," Amanda protested.
"What are we doing here? Babies R Us is right next door. Let's go get a test and you can take it in the restroom," Lynnette said, wheeling their cart around.
"I was kind of thinking Brandon ought to be involved with that," Amanda said.
Lynnette waved her hand. "Whatever. He'll think peeing on a stick is yucky. Tell you what, if it's positive, we'll buy a doll that says 'I love my dad' and you can give it to him for an early Christmas gift. See how long it takes him to figure it out."
They bought the race tracks, put them in Amanda's Honda, and ran to Babies R Us.
"Why do I feel like I'm doing something naughty?" Amanda asked after they bought the pregnancy test and found a restroom.
"Just pee already," Lynnette said.
"You know I went just before I picked you up," Amanda said.
"If we have to buy you a Diet Coke and wait for you to process it, I am not going to be a happy camper," Lynnette said.
"This would be a lot easier if you'd stop making me laugh," Amanda said.
"I'm shutting up now," Lynnette said.
"Go look at pink layette sets," Amanda said.
"Whatever," Lynnette said.
A few minutes later, they were bending over the stick they'd set on the counter. "Oh my gosh, someone else is coming in! This is so gross! Quick, look casual but don't let her see what's on the counter!" Amanda said.
Amanda and Lynnette turned around, leaning on the counter in a way to block the woman's view, talking about a haircut. The woman went into a stall, and Amanda and Lynnette exploded in giggles.
"You are such a dork!" Lynnette said.
"Oh, sure, blame it on me! Has it been two minutes yet?" Amanda said.
"It's a pink line!" Lynnette screamed. "I see a pink line! Look at it!"
"I'm trying! Hold it still!" Amanda said, comparing the pregnancy test to the instructions. "Oh my heck! I'm pregnant!"
Lynnette and Amanda hugged each other and jumped up and down, screaming. The lady came out of the stall and washed her hands quickly without looking their direction. When the bathroom door shut behind her, Lynnette said, "you'd think she'd never seen anyone take a pregnancy test in a store bathroom before."
"Yeah, imagine that," Amanda said.
"Let's go look at baby stuff!" Lynnette said.
Amanda found a doll wearing a onesie that said, "I love my dad" and had it gift-wrapped. Lynnette bought a package of pink blanket sleepers, and a lavender dress with yards of ruffles on it. Amanda talked her out of buying a wipe warmer.
"You have to tell me every single detail of your pregnancy. I always hated listening to women talk about being pregnant before because I can't get pregnant. But now that I'm going to have a daughter, I have to know these things so I can talk to her in thirty years when she's pregnant with my grandchild," Lynnette said. "Are you nauseated? Do you have heartburn?"
"No and no. I'll tell you everything, I promise. But right now I don't know anything," Amanda said.
"I'll bring you all my pregnancy books," Lynnette said. "Let's go give Brandon the doll. We'll finish Christmas shopping later."
At home, Brandon was watching The Big Bang Theory. Amanda sat down with the box on her lap. "We'll wait for a commercial break."
"Are you out of your mind?" Lynnette said. She turned off the tv. "Brandon, as your older sister, I order to open your Christmas present right now."
"I was watching that," Brandon objected.
"This is better," Lynnette said.
"Here, honey," Amanda said brightly, handing Brandon the box and clasping her hands nervously.
Brandon ripped off the paper and opened the box. "It's a doll," he said.
"Keep looking," Lynnette said.
He lifted the doll out of the box and checked the box. "Nope, nothing else in here."
"Don't be dense," Lynnette ordered. "Read the doll."
"I love my dad," Brandon read off the doll's onesie. "Well, that's cute. Are you giving it to Olivia or Neil?"
Lynnette and Amanda just smiled at him until confusion and then suspicion crossed his face. Then his mouth dropped open and he stared at the doll again.
"That didn't take as long as I thought it would," Lynnette said.
"Are you?" Brandon gaped at his wife.
Amanda nodded, and suddenly wished that Lynnette wasn't there. Maybe she should have kept this between her and her husband. It had just popped out of her to match Lynnette's excitement, and she hadn't stopped to think since then.
"Well. Well. Um. Wow. That's great!" Brandon made it over to the couch and hugged Amanda.
"We're going to have a baby too, Brandon!" Lynnette said. "A birth mother already chose us and we're going to have a daughter in Feburary! Our children will be the same age!"
Brandon looked like a deer caught in the headlights, and Amanda felt even worse.
"We've got a lot of talking to do," Amanda said. "How about I run you home?"
"Are you sure you don't want to go get ice cream to celebrate? Okay, that's fine. Tonight was awesome, wasn't it?" Lynnette said.
Amanda listened anxiously as they walked out of the house, but Brandon never turned his tv show back on.
"I completely understand. It happens to me all the time," Carly said, privately thinking that Sister Steele was not organized enough to be the Visiting Teaching Coordinator and if they promoted Carly from Supervisor to Coordinator, those assignments would have been ready in October.
"I knew you would. Let me know if you need help passing out the new assignment slips," Sister Snow said, giving Carly's hand a squeeze before dashing off to attend to another Relief Society detail before class started.
Carly thumbed through her list, noticing whose assignments had changed. She and Tracy Nesbitt still visited the same women. She checked the women assigned to her and sat up straighter with a thrill of anticipation. Sister Lofgren and Sister Carpenter weren't her visiting teachers anymore. Instead, Sister Tamara Holtkamp and Sister Debbie Bodily were visiting her. Sisters Lofgren and Carpenter were nice enough, but they were just Primary teachers, and didn't come very often anyway. Sister Holtkamp was the Gospel Doctrine teacher, and Sister Bodily was the Compassionate Service Leader – two of the ward's spiritual heavyweights! Sister Holtkamp's team teacher in Gospel Doctrine had been released two weeks ago, and she was now swapping weeks with members of the Sunday School Presidency. And Sister Nixon had been Relief Society President for more than three years now, which meant a change would not be unexpected.
Not that Carly ever aspired to a calling, but it was pretty obvious that inspiration had thrown her together with a Gospel Doctrine teacher, and the woman in line to be the next Relief Society President. This next year could be the year that a priesthood leader finally called her to a position worthy of her talents!
Amanda Grayson zipped into her sister-in-law's driveway after work. Before she could hop out, Lynnette Bellamy appeared, dashed down the steps, and got into the car.
"You're not excited or anything, are you?" Amanda asked her.
Lynnette spread ads all over Amanda's dashboard. "This year, we are absolutely going to buy for our nieces and nephews before we go shopping for ourselves. Toy stores first, absolutely."
"You know Adelaide is old enough to start thinking clothes are a cool Christmas gift. Maybe we should start with her. We could go to the children's department at Kohl's," Amanda said.
"You think you're so funny," Lynnette replied. "We are going to look at train sets at Toys R Us before we go anywhere else. Nick, Blake and Colton are all getting train sets this year. They're on a major awesome sale."
"Aren't they getting a little bit old for train sets? What about race cars instead?" Amanda asked.
"Yeah, they're on sale too. We are definitely buying our nephews things that go vroom," Lynnette said.
"I saw an ad for an entire tea set, including a pink table and chairs, that is the perfect size for Leila and Flora. What do you think?" Amanda said.
"Should we get Olivia one too?" Lynnette asked.
"It was still kind of pricey for a gift for one person. If Leila and Flora share it, then the price works out okay. We'll find something else for Olivia," Amanda said.
They pulled into the parking lot of Toys R Us for their annual aunt splurge. In Brandon's family of four, only two of the siblings had children. Amanda and Lynnette, the childless aunts, made an annual event out of buying their nieces and nephews gifts that frequently outshone the gifts from their grandparents.
"Job check," Amanda said. "Are either you or Clint worried about losing your job?"
"I work at a retirement community. They can't outsource me. And Clint has actually seen work increase in the last few months. Go figure," Lynnette said. "What about you guys?"
"We're good. Pull out the plastic."
"Charge!" Lynnette said.
They had three race tracks in their cart and were looking at dollhouses when Amanda finally decided that Lynnette was more excited than their shopping trip warranted. "You've got the giggles," she accused her sister-in-law.
"What makes you say that?" Lynnette asked, giggling.
"You are positively giddy about doll clothes. I thought that blue dress was darling too, but I didn't get all teary about it. Spill it," Amanda said.
"It's a girl, but you have to promise not to tell anyone because we just found out!" Lynnette said.
Amanda stared at her. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
Lynnette teared up again. "The social worker said it would take a couple years, but a birth mother already chose us. She was going to keep the baby, but changed her mind. It's a girl and she's due in February. They called us two days ago. We're going to be parents in three months!"
Amanda teared up too. "Oh my gosh! I'm buying your daughter a dollhouse!"
"You can't tell anyone! We're still freaking out!" Lynnette said.
"My period is four days late," Amanda blurted out.
Lynnette dropped the doll furniture she was holding, and inhaled so much that Amanda suspected the air pressure in the store dropped. "My daughter's going to have a cousin her same age to play with!"
"Oh, come on! Talk about freaking out! I haven't even taken a pregnancy test yet," Amanda protested.
"What are we doing here? Babies R Us is right next door. Let's go get a test and you can take it in the restroom," Lynnette said, wheeling their cart around.
"I was kind of thinking Brandon ought to be involved with that," Amanda said.
Lynnette waved her hand. "Whatever. He'll think peeing on a stick is yucky. Tell you what, if it's positive, we'll buy a doll that says 'I love my dad' and you can give it to him for an early Christmas gift. See how long it takes him to figure it out."
They bought the race tracks, put them in Amanda's Honda, and ran to Babies R Us.
"Why do I feel like I'm doing something naughty?" Amanda asked after they bought the pregnancy test and found a restroom.
"Just pee already," Lynnette said.
"You know I went just before I picked you up," Amanda said.
"If we have to buy you a Diet Coke and wait for you to process it, I am not going to be a happy camper," Lynnette said.
"This would be a lot easier if you'd stop making me laugh," Amanda said.
"I'm shutting up now," Lynnette said.
"Go look at pink layette sets," Amanda said.
"Whatever," Lynnette said.
A few minutes later, they were bending over the stick they'd set on the counter. "Oh my gosh, someone else is coming in! This is so gross! Quick, look casual but don't let her see what's on the counter!" Amanda said.
Amanda and Lynnette turned around, leaning on the counter in a way to block the woman's view, talking about a haircut. The woman went into a stall, and Amanda and Lynnette exploded in giggles.
"You are such a dork!" Lynnette said.
"Oh, sure, blame it on me! Has it been two minutes yet?" Amanda said.
"It's a pink line!" Lynnette screamed. "I see a pink line! Look at it!"
"I'm trying! Hold it still!" Amanda said, comparing the pregnancy test to the instructions. "Oh my heck! I'm pregnant!"
Lynnette and Amanda hugged each other and jumped up and down, screaming. The lady came out of the stall and washed her hands quickly without looking their direction. When the bathroom door shut behind her, Lynnette said, "you'd think she'd never seen anyone take a pregnancy test in a store bathroom before."
"Yeah, imagine that," Amanda said.
"Let's go look at baby stuff!" Lynnette said.
Amanda found a doll wearing a onesie that said, "I love my dad" and had it gift-wrapped. Lynnette bought a package of pink blanket sleepers, and a lavender dress with yards of ruffles on it. Amanda talked her out of buying a wipe warmer.
"You have to tell me every single detail of your pregnancy. I always hated listening to women talk about being pregnant before because I can't get pregnant. But now that I'm going to have a daughter, I have to know these things so I can talk to her in thirty years when she's pregnant with my grandchild," Lynnette said. "Are you nauseated? Do you have heartburn?"
"No and no. I'll tell you everything, I promise. But right now I don't know anything," Amanda said.
"I'll bring you all my pregnancy books," Lynnette said. "Let's go give Brandon the doll. We'll finish Christmas shopping later."
At home, Brandon was watching The Big Bang Theory. Amanda sat down with the box on her lap. "We'll wait for a commercial break."
"Are you out of your mind?" Lynnette said. She turned off the tv. "Brandon, as your older sister, I order to open your Christmas present right now."
"I was watching that," Brandon objected.
"This is better," Lynnette said.
"Here, honey," Amanda said brightly, handing Brandon the box and clasping her hands nervously.
Brandon ripped off the paper and opened the box. "It's a doll," he said.
"Keep looking," Lynnette said.
He lifted the doll out of the box and checked the box. "Nope, nothing else in here."
"Don't be dense," Lynnette ordered. "Read the doll."
"I love my dad," Brandon read off the doll's onesie. "Well, that's cute. Are you giving it to Olivia or Neil?"
Lynnette and Amanda just smiled at him until confusion and then suspicion crossed his face. Then his mouth dropped open and he stared at the doll again.
"That didn't take as long as I thought it would," Lynnette said.
"Are you?" Brandon gaped at his wife.
Amanda nodded, and suddenly wished that Lynnette wasn't there. Maybe she should have kept this between her and her husband. It had just popped out of her to match Lynnette's excitement, and she hadn't stopped to think since then.
"Well. Well. Um. Wow. That's great!" Brandon made it over to the couch and hugged Amanda.
"We're going to have a baby too, Brandon!" Lynnette said. "A birth mother already chose us and we're going to have a daughter in Feburary! Our children will be the same age!"
Brandon looked like a deer caught in the headlights, and Amanda felt even worse.
"We've got a lot of talking to do," Amanda said. "How about I run you home?"
"Are you sure you don't want to go get ice cream to celebrate? Okay, that's fine. Tonight was awesome, wasn't it?" Lynnette said.
Amanda listened anxiously as they walked out of the house, but Brandon never turned his tv show back on.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Chapter 52 - Thanksgiving
Tracy came downstairs at her parents' house in her pajamas and her faded yellow robe. Her brother, Trevor, was eating a bowl of Rice Krispies. The family room was full of children's bodies tucked into sleeping bags and blankets for the annual cousin Thanksgiving sleepover at grandma's house, still sleeping soundly. Trevor's wife, Marla, got a bowl out and offered it to Tracy. Tracy took it and poured herself some Raisin Bran.
"Are you sure that's what you want for breakfast?" Trevor asked. "Because I've got some really good elk jerky. Tastes like bacon."
"It does not," Marla said. "It tastes like elk jerky. All ninety pounds of it."
"We didn't jerk ninety pounds worth," Trevor said.
"It's sitting in my kitchen. And there are ninety pounds of it," Marla said, pouring milk on her cereal.
"Are we having elk for Thanksgiving dinner instead of turkey?" Tracy asked.
Trevor brightened. "That's a fantastic idea!"
"Your mom and I are putting the turkey in the oven as soon as I'm done with my Golden Grahams. Don't you come anywhere near this kitchen with an elk steak," Marla said.
"Can you keep it down in there?" a voice from the family room asked sleepily.
"Now you woke me up," another voice from the family room said.
"Come have elk jerky for breakfast," Tracy invited.
"I love elk jerky!" a third voice from the family room declared.
"That would be the son who helped you shoot the elk," Marla said.
"Chip off the old block," Trevor agreed.
"It's a good thing you only get an elk every fourth year or so," Tracy said.
"Is he telling that story again?" Tracy's mom asked, coming into the kitchen and pulling an apron out of a drawer.
"I'll have you know I haven't mentioned that story," Trevor said, injured.
"Can I tell it, dad?" Dylan asked, arriving at the breakfast counter wrapped in a blanket. Grandma's house was always a little bit cool.
Other cousins began drifting into the kitchen in search of bowls and cereal.
Grandma pulled the turkey out of the fridge. "Tracy, be a dear and help me carry this pan over to the sink."
Davey paused on his way to the Golden Grahams. "Oh my heck. Are you going to do that gross thing where you pull out all its guts?"
"We sure are," Grandma said.
"If you'd rather have elk jerky for breakfast, there's a bag in Dylan's stuff," Trevor said.
"Yeah, I'm going to have elk jerky," Davey said, putting his bowl back in the stack and getting out of the kitchen as the women started talking about the turkey's neck and giblets.
"He's not a hunter," Trevor said.
"That's okay," Tracy answered. "This family isn't big enough for two elk."
"We're sending you home with fifty pounds of elk steak," Marla said.
Carly Simmons slipped into Danna's room before Danna got dressed. She tweaked the bedspread smooth on her way to the closet. Carly had to dig deep to find the mint green sweater twinset she'd given Danna for her birthday. She also unearthed a pair of khaki slacks in a crumpled heap on the floor of the closet. Carly considered setting out the khakis too, but decided she could compromise with her daughter. If Danna would wear the green sweater, she could wear black pants or skirt. A conservative pair of pants or skirt, not the ragged fringed pair on that hangar, or that bizarre looking skirt, or good heavens, what was that?
Carly found a pair of black slacks with white pinstriping and flared legs that looked halfway normal. She arranged the outfit on Danna's bed, where Danna would see it as soon as she came back in her room. It was perfectly reasonable to ask her daughter to wear her birthday present for a holiday. It was rude that Danna hadn't worn the sweater before now. It was such an easy thing to do, to keep her mother and father from beginning to fret about Danna. Really, she was only trying to protect Danna. Not that Danna needed to be protected from her grandparents, but it would be more pleasant all the way around if her grandparents didn't think there was any cause for concern. Not that there was cause for concern, but Danna certainly looked like she had an attitude problem. Not that Carly was trying to hide a problem, but it was best to deal with these things without a lot of outside interference. Not that her parents would interfere. It would simply be easier all the way around if Danna would wear mint green today. Then everyone could talk about Ron's children instead.
"What are you going to do for Thanksgiving if you don't come with us?" Amanda Grayson asked her brother, Rick.
"I've got an invitation," Rick said.
"Where?" Amanda asked.
"My singles ward is getting a bunch of people together to watch the game," said Rick.
"Will there be turkey?" Amanda asked.
"I don't know. There will be chips and salsa and Coke. Turkey is optional."
Amanda decided not to pressure him any further. He'd already had his holiday drop from introducing his girlfriend to the family to hanging out with the other strays from the singles ward. If he didn't want to eat Thanksgiving dinner with his sister's neighbor whom he had never even met, that was his business. She couldn't even promise to bring him leftovers because it wasn't her meal to parcel out afterwards.
"Call me if you change your mind," Amanda said.
"Sure," said Rick.
Nicole Benton was setting the table with her mother's wedding china that she used only on holidays. Nicole's nine-year-old brother ran past with Carson riding piggyback and giggling wildly. Little Amalia toddled after them, whining, "my turn, my turn."
"How's it going, ladies? Anything you need help with?" Nicole's father, Will Halder, asked.
"You can put butter on the butter dishes. We should get that out to soften now," Nicole's mother answered.
Her father turned and bellowed over the sound of the parade, "Matt! Come help your mother with the butter!"
Jason and Nicole's brother Matt both appeared in response to the summons, with Jayden tagging along. Her father took the couch they vacated.
"You're taking a break from watching tv?" Nicole asked.
"You've seen one parade, you've seen them all," Jason answered.
"Big balloons!" Jayden announced.
"They sure are, sweetheart," Nicole's mom agreed, directing them to the butter and butter dishes.
Nicole's youngest brother, Bridger, reappeared with Carson still riding piggyback. "He's hacking up a lung in my hair," he said.
Jason plucked Carson off Bridger's back. "When he gets too excited, sometimes it sets off a coughing fit." Carson's coughs were already winding down.
"Here, I'll take him," Nicole said.
"I've got him," Jason said.
"He wants his mom," Nicole said, coaxing Carson to lean towards her and then taking him from her husband.
"Help?" Jayden asked, tugging on his dad's pants.
"Sure, buddy. You put this wrapper in the garbage," Jason said, putting the last stick of butter on a plate and adding it to the table, which had twenty-three place settings.
"Help!" Jayden announced proudly, putting the wrapper in the garbage.
"Let's go watch the big balloons again," Jason said, taking Jayden's hand and walking back into the family room.
Once they were out of earshot, Anika quietly said, "you ought to let him help out, Nic. You don't have to do it all."
"Carson wanted me," Nicole told her mother.
"Jason is willing to help out a lot more than your father ever did. You ought to let him. It will be easier on you, and good for your boys," Nicole's mother said.
Nicole sat on a stool while Carson sucked his thumb and nestled into the crook of her neck. She'd thought that moms did it all because that's the way families worked. It had never occurred to her that her father didn't want to be any more involved than he was, and her mother would have welcomed more help.
She glanced at her husband, who was sitting with Jayden snuggled up next to him, just as excited as Jayden was at the big Snoopy balloon on the screen. She looked back at her mom, who pointedly raised her eyebrows. Nicole carried Carson over to Jason and asked him to hold him so she could help her mom. Carson leaned into his dad's lap, and engaged in a brief turf war with his brother before settling in.
Brian Anderson was vacuuming the living room while Maria peeled potatoes in the kitchen. They hadn't intended to clean house until Ruth found neighbors to invite for dinner. Brian was sweating through his polo shirt, nervous about spending a holiday with people they barely knew. Plus, they were inactive. The chatting everyone did to get acquainted was hard enough for Brian. Without a universal topic like Church, he would be completely handicapped. He almost wished Ruth hadn't invited them.
But then again, if they became good friends and their neighbors started coming to Church again, that would prove he'd been right to keep his family in Utah for Thanksgiving, and his parents and sisters would have to stop telling him what a bad person he was. Reactivating the neighbors was his test to see if he'd been inspired about Thanksgiving, or had disrupted his family for a pointless whim.
There was a lot more pressure to planning a holiday all by yourself, without any family to lean on. They'd been cooking non-stop for days, and it still seemed like the menu would never be complete.
Brian turned off the vacuum and wrapped up the cord.
"Dad, I finished cleaning the bathroom sink," Ruth said.
"Thanks. Go pick up the toys in the family room. Get Hannah and Noah to help you," Brian said.
"Okay, dad. This is pretty cool, isn't it? It's like we're a family all by ourselves."
"Yeah, it's pretty cool," Brian said.
Ruth ran off to the family room, calling for her brother and sister to come help. Ruth was right, Brian reflected, it was nice to be a family all by themselves. The kids were excited about today. Ruth kept chattering about Amanda Grayson to Hannah and Noah. Noah had asked four times if he could say the blessing. Hannah frequently slipped out to the garage for peeks at the pies lined up on his workbench, because she'd helped mom roll out the pie crust.
"Honey, can you come help me for a minute?" Maria called from the kitchen.
Brian put the vacuum back in the closet. "Coming!"
"What are you wearing?" Carly Simmons shrieked. "I put your nice green sweater on your bed. You go change this instant!"
"It's not black, mom!" Danna shouted back.
"It's blood-red! And your jewelry looks like instruments of torture! You will look normal today! Do you understand me?" Carly yelled.
"This is me, mom! Deal with it!" Danna shouted. She had to be true to herself. She had to, no matter what it cost. If only one person understood that, maybe she could wear the green sweater twinset. But because they all ignored everything she kept shoving in their faces, she would continue to dress goth as her reassurance to herself that she wasn't like those shiny, happy people who worshipped appearances and rotted inside.
"You will not show up to Thanksgiving dinner like that! You change clothes or you will not come with us!" Carly said.
"Whatever, mom," Danna said, rolling her eyes.
"I'm serious," Carly said, "your grandparents will not see you dressed like that."
"Deal with it," Danna said, turning around and stalking out of the room. She called her mom's bluff. Her mom was always making threats she didn't carry out.
"We can't stay home and watch football?" Brandon Grayson asked.
"There will be football at the Andersons. Maria definitely mentioned football," Amanda said.
Brandon looked morose.
"Would you rather go to your parents' house? It's not too late to tell them my parents went to Arizona," Amanda said. "It's not like we know our neighbors anyway, so we can flake out at the last minute."
Brandon forced a smile that looked as genuine as he could make it. "Are you crazy? We're going to the neighbors. I'll be happy as long as they have football." His wife was craving friends so much, he couldn't possibly let her down by taking the easy way out and going to his family's place for Thanksgiving. He just hoped they didn't try to invite him to Church or anything uncomfortable like that.
"Okay." Amanda still looked uncertain.
"It will be fun, honey. I'm going to go take a quick shower," Brandon said. "Then we'll go over."
Carly Simmons was deeply worried as she carried the green beans in mushroom sauce out to the car, followed by Stephanie carrying the mint peas, and Austin with the bowl of corn. All the vegetables came from her garden last summer. Normally, she would be confident about her provident living skills. But all her efforts were going to be eclipsed by Danna's wardrobe. She couldn't tolerate that level of rebellion. Her parents hadn't nipped Suzanne's rebellion in the bud, and look where that led. She had to be firm with Danna. Danna had to realize that she needed to shape up if she wanted to be part of this family. As soon as she'd learned her lesson, everything would be so much easier, and Carly and Danna could go back to the close mother-daughter relationship they'd had back before Danna strayed. It was time to let Danna know that she was serious.
"Hannah! Come take this to the outside trash for me," Maria called. She wrapped up the potato and carrot peelings in the plastic sack, and handed them to Hannah. "Carry it with both hands."
Hannah walked carefully to the door with the peelings. She was outside for a long time. When she came back in, she said, "Mom? There's something wrong with that girl across the street."
Up until she heard the garage door go up and the Suburban back out, Danna didn't truly believe her mother would leave her behind for refusing to wear the green sweater. She yanked her earbuds out and ran to the window. Everyone else was in the Suburban, and her mom was backing out of the driveway.
Bile rose in her throat. She wasn't even part of the family. She was never going to be good enough to be part of this perfect family. No one would ever love her. She tore down the stairs and out the front door, which slammed behind her.
She got to the Suburban as her mom finished backing onto the street, and shifted into drive. She screamed and pounded on the window. "Don't leave me! Don't leave me!" Through the window, Yancy flipped her off with a grin and Austin turned away. Stephanie sat motionless, facing forward. In the last second before her mom pulled away, she found her dad's eyes. He gave an apologetic shrug. She came undone.
The Suburban accelerated down the street. Danna followed her family, screaming, for a few more yards, her heart beating her ribcage apart in the agony of abandonment. Her mom braked briefly at the stop sign at the end of the street, then signaled to turn left and pulled away.
Danna froze in the middle of the street as she detached from herself. There was a fog between her and herself. She knew that girl in the street hurt, but it wasn't quite real. Danna finally managed to completely inhabit the cloak of apathy she had been trying to wear since Girls Camp. The apathy was talking to her, and assured her nothing mattered. It occurred to her that if the girl died, she wouldn't hurt anymore. There were knives at home. And the girl wasn't real anyway. Danna thought about it, and couldn't think of any reasons not to kill the girl. The girl would probably be grateful to be dead because the hurting would stop. The girl didn't particularly want to die, but if that was the only way to stop hurting, she'd have to do it. The apathy agreed with her.
Quite calm now, she turned and walked on the hard-packed snow back to the driveway, which was neatly scraped clean of snow and ice. The front walkway was also neatly cleaned, except for that one place near the drainspout that was covered with a thin sheen of ice, pitted by salt. She stopped and scraped her toe over the pitted ice. Good-bye, ice. She brushed an inch of snow off the iron railing on the porch. Good-bye, railing.
The front door had smudges on it. How fascinating to notice all these details. They were much more important than those people who just drove away. Who were those people, anyway? Danna frowned in concentration, but the fog had moved into her mind and she couldn't remember. She licked her thumb and rubbed at a smudge until it came clean.
She turned the door knob, and it stopped. The door had locked behind her. How strange that a lock could become real and interfere like that. The girl she was planning to kill commented that there was no other way into the house. She rang the doorbell and heard it faintly chime on the other side of the door. Bemused, she rubbed another smudge clean.
While cleaning the sixth or seventh smudge, the fog began swirling and she realized that if she couldn't get into the house, she couldn't get a knife and kill the girl who was hurting. With no warning at all, she abruptly became the girl who was hurting again, and the pain blew the fog away. With no cushion between herself and her feelings, she started screaming again, yanking at the doorknob and pounding on the door.
She could break a window. Still screaming, she turned towards the window and ran right into a person she never heard coming. Arms held her tightly, pressing her face into an ample bosom covered in dark, wiry hair. She screamed into the person, and the person held her tighter and tighter.
"You're coming home with me," the person said, and Danna found out it was Sister Anderson.
"They left me!" Danna shrieked. "My mom drove away because I wouldn't change clothes! They left me!"
"You're coming home with me," Sister Anderson repeated.
"I'm not changing clothes!"
"Good. I want you to come home with me exactly the way you are."
That startled Danna into silence. No one ever wanted her to be exactly the way she was. She nodded, trembling, and let Sister Anderson lead her down the porch and across the street.
When Sister Anderson pushed her door open, warm, spicy smells flowed out on a babble of voices. Danna turned to press her face into Sister Anderson's shoulder again, hiding like a toddler who thought that if she couldn't see anyone else, then no one could see her.
"I'm going to take you up to my room," Sister Anderson whispered. Danna nodded into her shoulder.
The nice smells and curious voices faded as they reached Sister Anderson's bedroom and Sister Anderson shut the door behind them. She guided Danna over to the bed. Danna sat where Sister Anderson put her, head drooping, as fragile as a soap bubble.
Sister Anderson sat down next to her, still hugging her. "You can stay in here as long as you like. We won't be eating for another couple hours. We would love to have you join us, but you can do whatever you want."
Danna nodded.
"Do you want to talk about anything?" Sister Anderson asked.
Danna considered. Her feelings were retreating again. If she talked, they might come back. If they came back, she might need to kill herself to stop hurting. She shook her head.
"All right. I'll help you lie down and relax." Sister Anderson knelt and took off Danna's black Converse, then helped her get her head on the pillow. She unfolded an extra blanket from the foot of the bed and gently spread it over Danna. Then she put the palm of her hand on Danna's forehead. "I'll come check on you in a little bit, okay?"
Danna nodded.
Sister Anderson went out and shut the door, shooing away the child waiting at the door to find out what was going on.
The blanket was warm, and spicy smells crept into the room from under the door. She drowsed. She felt distant from her feelings again, but this time because she was wrapped up in warmth and safety by Sister Anderson, the only person who had ever told her that her mom was wrong about anything. Her earlier despair seemed distant and temporary outside that soft, warm layer. She decided not to kill herself.
She blinked a few times and looked at the wall. There was a painting on the wall of Christ helping two children across a boulder-strewn river.
Christ was holding one child, and reaching down to help up the second child who was trying to climb a boulder to get out of the rushing water. Danna blinked, and the river started flowing. She became the girl who was trying to climb out of the river onto the rock, straining to reach Christ's hand. An awareness infused the soft, warm layer around her, soothing her, and communicating her identity to her.
My daughter.
She blinked, and the river in the painting disappeared as she understood the girl in the painting. She was yearning for Christ with such singleminded determination that the river hardly existed for her. And Danna became the girl again, leaving everything behind in that one faith-filled hope of reaching the man who knew who she really was, her Savior, Jesus Christ. She blinked, and fell asleep, floating in the cradle of her true identity.
Brian answered the door when the Graysons arrived, but because Ruth was there too, he couldn't say very much.
"We're so glad you came!" Ruth exclaimed. "We even cleaned the bathroom in case you have to go. Do you want me to take those rolls into the kitchen? I saved the marshmallows because you said you'd help me with them. Hannah wants to help too, but there's only one pan so I don't really think we need her help. Did you not wear coats because you live next door? My mom always makes me wear a coat. When I grow up, I'm never going to wear a coat either."
"Thanks for coming," Brian managed to work in. He held out his hand and both Amanda and Brandon shook it.
"Thanks for the invitation," Amanda replied. "I'm going to take this stuff into the kitchen."
"I'll help you," Ruth said. "Is that cranberry sauce? We don't have cranberry sauce because mom makes gravy, but mom said we should be polite and try some anyway because you said you were bringing it. This is Hannah. She's my little sister. And that's Noah. He doesn't eat vegetables, so usually he doesn't get dessert but dad said he can have pie anyway because today is Thanksgiving. Do you like green beans? I hate green beans. I only eat them because of dessert, but we're not having green beans today."
Ruth's chatter drifted back to Brandon and Brian as she guided Amanda into the kitchen, with Hannah and Noah tagging along.
"She's at that chatty age," Brian said.
"That age that goes from three until death?" Brandon asked.
Brian was startled into a laugh. "Yeah, that age."
"I've got two older sisters," Brandon said, "and I wasn't allowed to say a word until I was twelve."
"I've got two younger sisters," Brian said, "and I'm still not allowed to say a word."
"The reason I love football so much is because it's the only topic my sisters never talk about," Brandon said.
"I can take a hint. Right this way." Brian led Brandon to the family room and turned down the volume on the game so they could talk about the teams.
Eighteen football minutes later, Ruth popped into the family room to tell them dinner was ready.
"Already?" Brian asked.
"Mom wants you to carve the turkey. What are you going to carve it into?" Ruth asked.
"Pieces," Brian said.
"I like a man of simplicity," Brandon said.
Amanda and Maria exchanged surprised looks when their husbands showed up in the kitchen bantering with each other like old friends.
Brandon was lifting pieces of turkey on to the serving platter as Brian carved and the women made gravy when Hannah tugged on his shirt. "Hi, Missy," he said to her.
"Um, I think the cranberry sauce is really pretty," Hannah whispered.
"Did you know there's a whole color named after cranberries?" Brandon whispered back.
"Really? What color is it?" Hannah asked.
"Dark red, just like a cranberry," Brandon said.
"Wow," said Hannah. "That's my new favorite color."
"There's a girl in my mom's room," Noah announced loudly, climbing onto a kitchen stool to get a better view of the action.
"You didn't wake her up, did you?" Maria asked him.
"No, I just looked at her," Noah said.
"You have another daughter?" Amanda asked.
"It's the neighbor girl. Her name's Danna." Maria didn't volunteer any more information.
"How come she was screaming, mom?" Hannah asked.
Maria didn't know what else to say besides the truth. "Her family left for Thanksgiving without her. Please don't ask her a bunch of questions if she comes down for dinner. She might not want to talk about it." She gave Ruth a very pointed look and Ruth got very wide-eyed.
Just before they sat down to eat, Maria went to check on Danna. She came back in the kitchen and said, "Danna said she'd come out in a little bit, and we should start without her."
"Amanda, you can sit by me," Ruth said, waving her over.
"I'm going to save a place for Danna," Hannah said, throwing a leg over the chair next to her.
"I get to bless the food!" Noah reminded everyone.
Noah offered a blessing cut short by stage fright. Then the turkey, stuffing, potatoes, gravy, cranberry sauce, corn, green salad, rolls, and butter made their way around the table before Danna walked into the dining room in her stocking feet.
"I saved you a seat," Hannah said by way of greeting.
"I'm glad you came out for dinner," Maria said with a smile.
Danna offered a tentative smile around the table before sitting on the edge of the chair Hannah pulled out for her. Brandon passed her the turkey.
"There's a skull on your necklace," Ruth commented. "Did you get it for Halloween?"
Danna added a dab of potatoes to the small slice of turkey and shrugged. "Yeah."
"Have you met the Graysons?" Brian asked.
Amanda and Brandon introduced themselves and Danna smiled shyly at them. "I've seen your snowboards," she offered.
"Do you board?" Amanda asked.
"No, but it's my favorite sport to watch at the Olympics. It's like they're flying or something," Danna said.
"You should come with us on Saturday. I've got extra boots and a board. It would be way fun to teach you," Amanda said.
"Oh, I don't know," Danna said, bending over her plate so her hair swung forward.
"I bet your mom wouldn't care if you went," Ruth put in, and ignored the sharp look from her mother.
"She'd probably be thrilled if I broke my neck," Danna said.
There was a shocked silence and Danna stuttered into it. "I mean that Ruth is right and she wouldn't care if I go." Danna was used to blurting out anything that came into her head because no one ever listened to her. It was strange to realize these people were going to take her seriously.
"Can I go too, mom?" Ruth begged. "I won't break my neck."
"No, teaching one novice is enough. Maybe some other time," Maria said.
"Promise I can go some other time?" Ruth pressed.
"We'll see," said Maria.
Ruth hated it when grown-ups said, 'we'll see.'
"When your feet get big enough to borrow my boots, we'll talk about taking you snowboarding," Amanda said.
"I bet my feet are already bigger than Danna's. What size do you wear, Danna?" Ruth asked.
"Six," said Danna.
"Oh my heck! My feet are way huger than that! I wear a twelve!" Ruth said.
"Twelve in children's sizes is smaller than a six in women's sizes," Maria said. "You aren't going snowboarding this year."
"I wear a seven," Amanda told Danna. "I bet my old boots will fit you fine. Do you want to come over after dinner and try on boots?"
"You really want me to come?" Danna asked.
"We'd love it," Amanda said.
"You'll love it, too. It seriously makes you forget everything else in your life but the wind in your face and the way your board is flying. It's better than drugs," Brandon added.
Silence.
"I don't do drugs," Brandon tacked on hastily, "I just know someone who did drugs and said snowboarding was better. Really, I don't do drugs."
"Okay, I'll come," Danna said.
"If it's that good, maybe I ought to try it," Brian said.
"Dad! You can't go without me!" Ruth said.
"I'm kidding, honey. I'm not athletic enough anymore to survive a day on the slopes," Brian said.
"It wouldn't take much to get you back up there," Brandon said.
"We'll see," Brian said.
Ruth rolled her eyes.
It wasn't until after the food platters had been passed around a second time and people were exclaiming that they couldn't possibly eat one more bite even as they did, that the conversation turned to the last-minute nature of the party.
"We were worried it would only be us," Ruth said. "Lucky your sister broke her leg, huh Amanda?"
"I'll pass that on to her. She'll be thrilled to know it was lucky," Amanda said.
"Ruth, a broken leg isn't lucky," Maria said.
"Then how come people tell you to break a leg when they want you to have good luck?" Ruth asked.
Everyone laughed, but no one answered Ruth's question.
"This is tons better than hanging out with my family," Danna said. "I haven't gotten yelled at in hours now." There was that uncomfortable silence that reminded Danna that people actually listened to what she said. "My mom yelled at me about what I was wearing," she explained. "She hates the way I dress. I didn't think she'd leave me behind, though. We fight all the time, but I never really thought she meant it." As she said it, she realized it was true. She didn't expect anyone to listen to her at home, but she didn't listen to anyone else either.
"She shouldn't have left you behind," Brandon said quietly, idly dragging his fork through the remaining gravy on his plate. "Parents shouldn't punish their children by abandoning them or ignoring them. That's cruel." He set his fork down and stared at his plate.
Under the table, Amanda took his hand.
"But I didn't change clothes," Danna said.
"Doesn't matter. It was still wrong to leave you behind," Brandon said.
"I agree," Brian said. He was thinking of how his dad had yelled at him about not coming home for Thanksgiving and then hadn't talked to him since then.
"Your mom got mad at you?" Hannah asked Danna.
"Yeah, she's always mad at me," Danna said candidly.
Hannah glanced at her dad, and then away.
Brian's thoughts shifted from the way his father had acted to the way he acted. He never abandoned or ignored his children, but he did yell at them, just like his father. Thanksgiving dinner turned into a rock in his stomach.
"I'm going to clear up some of these dishes," Maria announced. Amanda and Ruth jumped up to help.
The afternoon was deepening into twilight when Amanda, Brandon and Danna all made their good-byes.
"I wish I could go snowboarding," Ruth said.
"We'll get you up there in a few years," Brandon promised her. "Danna will come tell you all about it when she gets back."
"If I can even move," Danna said.
After another round of thanks, the three of them headed to the Graysons to find boots and a board for Danna.
"There's a pair of black boots with a pink stripe in the bottom of the closet in the entryway," Amanda called from the garage. "See if you can find them."
Danna opened the closet door and bent to the pile of boots and shoes, searching for the black boots with the pink stripe. She moved a large pile, and inhaled sharply at what she uncovered. Too overwhelmed to be polite about someone else's stuff, she pawed boots out of the way and pulled the object free.
Amanda came in from the garage. "We can adjust the bindings," and then she saw what Danna was holding. "Is that where that thing ended up? My mom gave that to me the day we moved in and I've been meaning to get rid of it." Amanda peered at Danna's face. "In fact, I'm giving it to you."
Danna nodded, unable to make the expected protests about giving something so expensive to someone you'd just met that day. The painting was even bigger than the one that hung in Sister Anderson's bedroom. "Can I pick it up tomorrow? If I take it home with me tonight, my mom will see it and make me bring it back."
"Of course you can," said Amanda. "I'll even wrap it in brown paper for you. Put it down and let's try these boots on you. You might need three pairs of socks. You've got small feet."
Danna carried the painting of Christ helping the children across the river into the living room and set it next to the recliner while Amanda gave her boots to try on. When they went out to the garage, Danna carried the painting as far as the kitchen before reluctantly leaving it in the house. She picked it up again when they came back in the house, and set it by the chair she sat on while she talked more with Amanda and Brandon.
Finally, when it was dark and late, and all the lights at Danna's house were on, she carried the painting into the entryway, where she set it as close to the door as she could.
"We'll be home all day tomorrow," Amanda promised, "you can come get it anytime."
"Thanks," said Danna.
Stephanie Simmons sat in her living room, flipping through the New Era, glancing out the front window occasionally, where she couldn't see past the pool of light from the porch light. After four articles, Stephanie finally saw Danna approaching. Stephanie was going to talk to Danna, and help her see that she should do what mom says and be part of the family again.
"Oh, hi," Danna said, breezing into the house. "Did you have a nice day? I did." And she ran up the stairs to her room before Stephanie could say anything.
Stephanie stood looking after her. That was wrong. Danna was not supposed to be happy about being left behind. She should have had a rotten day to teach her not to talk back to mom like that. Where was the justice in the world if Danna could rebel against her mother and still have a nice day?
After the kids were in bed, Brian dished himself a piece of apple pie and pumpkin pie, and added a large scoop of ice cream to the plate. "Are you sure you don't want any?" he asked Maria.
"I'm sure," Maria answered. "Eating late at night is going to give you indigestion." She was looking through the newspaper ads for Black Friday. She never went to the sales, but she enjoyed looking at the ads and exclaiming about the bargains.
"Find anything you want?" Brian asked, settling into the recliner.
Maria held up a Best Buy ad. "I would love that printer for my classroom." She flipped a few more pages. "And the point and click digital cameras are up to twelve mega-pixels now. Someday we need to upgrade our camera."
"Ruth will be thrilled to have her pimples preserved in high resolution," Brian said.
Maria laughed. "Can you believe how fast she's growing up?"
"She sure thinks the world of Amanda," Brian commented.
"Amanda was great with the girls. If she was active, I'd call her into Young Womens in a heartbeat," Maria said.
"Maybe that would get her to Church," Brian suggested.
"No, working with the youth isn't how you reactivate yourself. It's where you go once you know you have a testimony. Those young people need someone to rely on, not someone who is searching as much as they are. But Amanda is a lot of fun. I hope she does take Danna snowboarding," Maria said.
"Earlier this morning I was thinking that staying in Utah for Thanksgiving would be the right thing if I could reactivate the Graysons, but once they got here, I never once thought about inviting them to Church," Brian mused.
Maria shrugged. "They know where Church is if they want to come."
"Do you think it was okay to stay in Utah anyway? Even if we didn't really work any miracles by staying home?" Brian asked.
Maria started turning the pages of a JcPenney ad. "I think it's our business where we spend holidays, and we don't need to wonder if it's okay or not. I didn't say anything before, but I thought the way your family treated us was shameful. It made me angry that they would be so manipulative and pressure us so much to make us feel guilty about something that is completely our decision. You remember the year we were planning on going to California for Christmas to stay with my family? Then Hannah spent that whole winter catching one bug after another, and I was pregnant with Noah, so we called and cancelled. My mom was a sweetheart about it. Dad express mailed all the gifts to us, and then they drove out in January to visit. They didn't act like it was the end of the world to change holiday plans."
Brian worked on getting the right proportion of ice cream and apple pie on his fork. Maria just gave him the starting point for his own feelings, and now anger about how his family had reacted to their Thanksgiving plans started rising in him, replacing his guilt and self-doubt. "You're right. Some of those emails Crystal sent me were plain mean."
"Yes, they were," Maria agreed.
"And my dad never contacted me at all after he yelled at me that second time. He sat back and let mom and Crystal do all his dirty work. He does that a lot. That email Heather sent to you was snotty, even though she pretends to be nice. Where does she get off making her daughter cry and then blaming it on us?" Brian said.
"That email made me angry," Maria said.
Brian sat up straighter, waving his fork to emphasize his words. "It's not my fault my mom is on anti-depressants. She'd be on anti-depressants whether we went to Michigan for Thanksgiving or not. And the kids didn't want to see their cousins anyway. We did the right thing to stay in Utah just because we wanted to, even if we didn't have any big, important reason."
"That's right," Maria said. "Your family was wrong."
"My family was wrong," Brian repeated.
Oddly, Brian's expression reminded Maria of the way Danna looked at dinner, when Brandon told her that her mother was wrong to leave her behind, one part surprise and two parts relief.
"Are you sure that's what you want for breakfast?" Trevor asked. "Because I've got some really good elk jerky. Tastes like bacon."
"It does not," Marla said. "It tastes like elk jerky. All ninety pounds of it."
"We didn't jerk ninety pounds worth," Trevor said.
"It's sitting in my kitchen. And there are ninety pounds of it," Marla said, pouring milk on her cereal.
"Are we having elk for Thanksgiving dinner instead of turkey?" Tracy asked.
Trevor brightened. "That's a fantastic idea!"
"Your mom and I are putting the turkey in the oven as soon as I'm done with my Golden Grahams. Don't you come anywhere near this kitchen with an elk steak," Marla said.
"Can you keep it down in there?" a voice from the family room asked sleepily.
"Now you woke me up," another voice from the family room said.
"Come have elk jerky for breakfast," Tracy invited.
"I love elk jerky!" a third voice from the family room declared.
"That would be the son who helped you shoot the elk," Marla said.
"Chip off the old block," Trevor agreed.
"It's a good thing you only get an elk every fourth year or so," Tracy said.
"Is he telling that story again?" Tracy's mom asked, coming into the kitchen and pulling an apron out of a drawer.
"I'll have you know I haven't mentioned that story," Trevor said, injured.
"Can I tell it, dad?" Dylan asked, arriving at the breakfast counter wrapped in a blanket. Grandma's house was always a little bit cool.
Other cousins began drifting into the kitchen in search of bowls and cereal.
Grandma pulled the turkey out of the fridge. "Tracy, be a dear and help me carry this pan over to the sink."
Davey paused on his way to the Golden Grahams. "Oh my heck. Are you going to do that gross thing where you pull out all its guts?"
"We sure are," Grandma said.
"If you'd rather have elk jerky for breakfast, there's a bag in Dylan's stuff," Trevor said.
"Yeah, I'm going to have elk jerky," Davey said, putting his bowl back in the stack and getting out of the kitchen as the women started talking about the turkey's neck and giblets.
"He's not a hunter," Trevor said.
"That's okay," Tracy answered. "This family isn't big enough for two elk."
"We're sending you home with fifty pounds of elk steak," Marla said.
Carly Simmons slipped into Danna's room before Danna got dressed. She tweaked the bedspread smooth on her way to the closet. Carly had to dig deep to find the mint green sweater twinset she'd given Danna for her birthday. She also unearthed a pair of khaki slacks in a crumpled heap on the floor of the closet. Carly considered setting out the khakis too, but decided she could compromise with her daughter. If Danna would wear the green sweater, she could wear black pants or skirt. A conservative pair of pants or skirt, not the ragged fringed pair on that hangar, or that bizarre looking skirt, or good heavens, what was that?
Carly found a pair of black slacks with white pinstriping and flared legs that looked halfway normal. She arranged the outfit on Danna's bed, where Danna would see it as soon as she came back in her room. It was perfectly reasonable to ask her daughter to wear her birthday present for a holiday. It was rude that Danna hadn't worn the sweater before now. It was such an easy thing to do, to keep her mother and father from beginning to fret about Danna. Really, she was only trying to protect Danna. Not that Danna needed to be protected from her grandparents, but it would be more pleasant all the way around if her grandparents didn't think there was any cause for concern. Not that there was cause for concern, but Danna certainly looked like she had an attitude problem. Not that Carly was trying to hide a problem, but it was best to deal with these things without a lot of outside interference. Not that her parents would interfere. It would simply be easier all the way around if Danna would wear mint green today. Then everyone could talk about Ron's children instead.
"What are you going to do for Thanksgiving if you don't come with us?" Amanda Grayson asked her brother, Rick.
"I've got an invitation," Rick said.
"Where?" Amanda asked.
"My singles ward is getting a bunch of people together to watch the game," said Rick.
"Will there be turkey?" Amanda asked.
"I don't know. There will be chips and salsa and Coke. Turkey is optional."
Amanda decided not to pressure him any further. He'd already had his holiday drop from introducing his girlfriend to the family to hanging out with the other strays from the singles ward. If he didn't want to eat Thanksgiving dinner with his sister's neighbor whom he had never even met, that was his business. She couldn't even promise to bring him leftovers because it wasn't her meal to parcel out afterwards.
"Call me if you change your mind," Amanda said.
"Sure," said Rick.
Nicole Benton was setting the table with her mother's wedding china that she used only on holidays. Nicole's nine-year-old brother ran past with Carson riding piggyback and giggling wildly. Little Amalia toddled after them, whining, "my turn, my turn."
"How's it going, ladies? Anything you need help with?" Nicole's father, Will Halder, asked.
"You can put butter on the butter dishes. We should get that out to soften now," Nicole's mother answered.
Her father turned and bellowed over the sound of the parade, "Matt! Come help your mother with the butter!"
Jason and Nicole's brother Matt both appeared in response to the summons, with Jayden tagging along. Her father took the couch they vacated.
"You're taking a break from watching tv?" Nicole asked.
"You've seen one parade, you've seen them all," Jason answered.
"Big balloons!" Jayden announced.
"They sure are, sweetheart," Nicole's mom agreed, directing them to the butter and butter dishes.
Nicole's youngest brother, Bridger, reappeared with Carson still riding piggyback. "He's hacking up a lung in my hair," he said.
Jason plucked Carson off Bridger's back. "When he gets too excited, sometimes it sets off a coughing fit." Carson's coughs were already winding down.
"Here, I'll take him," Nicole said.
"I've got him," Jason said.
"He wants his mom," Nicole said, coaxing Carson to lean towards her and then taking him from her husband.
"Help?" Jayden asked, tugging on his dad's pants.
"Sure, buddy. You put this wrapper in the garbage," Jason said, putting the last stick of butter on a plate and adding it to the table, which had twenty-three place settings.
"Help!" Jayden announced proudly, putting the wrapper in the garbage.
"Let's go watch the big balloons again," Jason said, taking Jayden's hand and walking back into the family room.
Once they were out of earshot, Anika quietly said, "you ought to let him help out, Nic. You don't have to do it all."
"Carson wanted me," Nicole told her mother.
"Jason is willing to help out a lot more than your father ever did. You ought to let him. It will be easier on you, and good for your boys," Nicole's mother said.
Nicole sat on a stool while Carson sucked his thumb and nestled into the crook of her neck. She'd thought that moms did it all because that's the way families worked. It had never occurred to her that her father didn't want to be any more involved than he was, and her mother would have welcomed more help.
She glanced at her husband, who was sitting with Jayden snuggled up next to him, just as excited as Jayden was at the big Snoopy balloon on the screen. She looked back at her mom, who pointedly raised her eyebrows. Nicole carried Carson over to Jason and asked him to hold him so she could help her mom. Carson leaned into his dad's lap, and engaged in a brief turf war with his brother before settling in.
Brian Anderson was vacuuming the living room while Maria peeled potatoes in the kitchen. They hadn't intended to clean house until Ruth found neighbors to invite for dinner. Brian was sweating through his polo shirt, nervous about spending a holiday with people they barely knew. Plus, they were inactive. The chatting everyone did to get acquainted was hard enough for Brian. Without a universal topic like Church, he would be completely handicapped. He almost wished Ruth hadn't invited them.
But then again, if they became good friends and their neighbors started coming to Church again, that would prove he'd been right to keep his family in Utah for Thanksgiving, and his parents and sisters would have to stop telling him what a bad person he was. Reactivating the neighbors was his test to see if he'd been inspired about Thanksgiving, or had disrupted his family for a pointless whim.
There was a lot more pressure to planning a holiday all by yourself, without any family to lean on. They'd been cooking non-stop for days, and it still seemed like the menu would never be complete.
Brian turned off the vacuum and wrapped up the cord.
"Dad, I finished cleaning the bathroom sink," Ruth said.
"Thanks. Go pick up the toys in the family room. Get Hannah and Noah to help you," Brian said.
"Okay, dad. This is pretty cool, isn't it? It's like we're a family all by ourselves."
"Yeah, it's pretty cool," Brian said.
Ruth ran off to the family room, calling for her brother and sister to come help. Ruth was right, Brian reflected, it was nice to be a family all by themselves. The kids were excited about today. Ruth kept chattering about Amanda Grayson to Hannah and Noah. Noah had asked four times if he could say the blessing. Hannah frequently slipped out to the garage for peeks at the pies lined up on his workbench, because she'd helped mom roll out the pie crust.
"Honey, can you come help me for a minute?" Maria called from the kitchen.
Brian put the vacuum back in the closet. "Coming!"
"What are you wearing?" Carly Simmons shrieked. "I put your nice green sweater on your bed. You go change this instant!"
"It's not black, mom!" Danna shouted back.
"It's blood-red! And your jewelry looks like instruments of torture! You will look normal today! Do you understand me?" Carly yelled.
"This is me, mom! Deal with it!" Danna shouted. She had to be true to herself. She had to, no matter what it cost. If only one person understood that, maybe she could wear the green sweater twinset. But because they all ignored everything she kept shoving in their faces, she would continue to dress goth as her reassurance to herself that she wasn't like those shiny, happy people who worshipped appearances and rotted inside.
"You will not show up to Thanksgiving dinner like that! You change clothes or you will not come with us!" Carly said.
"Whatever, mom," Danna said, rolling her eyes.
"I'm serious," Carly said, "your grandparents will not see you dressed like that."
"Deal with it," Danna said, turning around and stalking out of the room. She called her mom's bluff. Her mom was always making threats she didn't carry out.
"We can't stay home and watch football?" Brandon Grayson asked.
"There will be football at the Andersons. Maria definitely mentioned football," Amanda said.
Brandon looked morose.
"Would you rather go to your parents' house? It's not too late to tell them my parents went to Arizona," Amanda said. "It's not like we know our neighbors anyway, so we can flake out at the last minute."
Brandon forced a smile that looked as genuine as he could make it. "Are you crazy? We're going to the neighbors. I'll be happy as long as they have football." His wife was craving friends so much, he couldn't possibly let her down by taking the easy way out and going to his family's place for Thanksgiving. He just hoped they didn't try to invite him to Church or anything uncomfortable like that.
"Okay." Amanda still looked uncertain.
"It will be fun, honey. I'm going to go take a quick shower," Brandon said. "Then we'll go over."
Carly Simmons was deeply worried as she carried the green beans in mushroom sauce out to the car, followed by Stephanie carrying the mint peas, and Austin with the bowl of corn. All the vegetables came from her garden last summer. Normally, she would be confident about her provident living skills. But all her efforts were going to be eclipsed by Danna's wardrobe. She couldn't tolerate that level of rebellion. Her parents hadn't nipped Suzanne's rebellion in the bud, and look where that led. She had to be firm with Danna. Danna had to realize that she needed to shape up if she wanted to be part of this family. As soon as she'd learned her lesson, everything would be so much easier, and Carly and Danna could go back to the close mother-daughter relationship they'd had back before Danna strayed. It was time to let Danna know that she was serious.
"Hannah! Come take this to the outside trash for me," Maria called. She wrapped up the potato and carrot peelings in the plastic sack, and handed them to Hannah. "Carry it with both hands."
Hannah walked carefully to the door with the peelings. She was outside for a long time. When she came back in, she said, "Mom? There's something wrong with that girl across the street."
Up until she heard the garage door go up and the Suburban back out, Danna didn't truly believe her mother would leave her behind for refusing to wear the green sweater. She yanked her earbuds out and ran to the window. Everyone else was in the Suburban, and her mom was backing out of the driveway.
Bile rose in her throat. She wasn't even part of the family. She was never going to be good enough to be part of this perfect family. No one would ever love her. She tore down the stairs and out the front door, which slammed behind her.
She got to the Suburban as her mom finished backing onto the street, and shifted into drive. She screamed and pounded on the window. "Don't leave me! Don't leave me!" Through the window, Yancy flipped her off with a grin and Austin turned away. Stephanie sat motionless, facing forward. In the last second before her mom pulled away, she found her dad's eyes. He gave an apologetic shrug. She came undone.
The Suburban accelerated down the street. Danna followed her family, screaming, for a few more yards, her heart beating her ribcage apart in the agony of abandonment. Her mom braked briefly at the stop sign at the end of the street, then signaled to turn left and pulled away.
Danna froze in the middle of the street as she detached from herself. There was a fog between her and herself. She knew that girl in the street hurt, but it wasn't quite real. Danna finally managed to completely inhabit the cloak of apathy she had been trying to wear since Girls Camp. The apathy was talking to her, and assured her nothing mattered. It occurred to her that if the girl died, she wouldn't hurt anymore. There were knives at home. And the girl wasn't real anyway. Danna thought about it, and couldn't think of any reasons not to kill the girl. The girl would probably be grateful to be dead because the hurting would stop. The girl didn't particularly want to die, but if that was the only way to stop hurting, she'd have to do it. The apathy agreed with her.
Quite calm now, she turned and walked on the hard-packed snow back to the driveway, which was neatly scraped clean of snow and ice. The front walkway was also neatly cleaned, except for that one place near the drainspout that was covered with a thin sheen of ice, pitted by salt. She stopped and scraped her toe over the pitted ice. Good-bye, ice. She brushed an inch of snow off the iron railing on the porch. Good-bye, railing.
The front door had smudges on it. How fascinating to notice all these details. They were much more important than those people who just drove away. Who were those people, anyway? Danna frowned in concentration, but the fog had moved into her mind and she couldn't remember. She licked her thumb and rubbed at a smudge until it came clean.
She turned the door knob, and it stopped. The door had locked behind her. How strange that a lock could become real and interfere like that. The girl she was planning to kill commented that there was no other way into the house. She rang the doorbell and heard it faintly chime on the other side of the door. Bemused, she rubbed another smudge clean.
While cleaning the sixth or seventh smudge, the fog began swirling and she realized that if she couldn't get into the house, she couldn't get a knife and kill the girl who was hurting. With no warning at all, she abruptly became the girl who was hurting again, and the pain blew the fog away. With no cushion between herself and her feelings, she started screaming again, yanking at the doorknob and pounding on the door.
She could break a window. Still screaming, she turned towards the window and ran right into a person she never heard coming. Arms held her tightly, pressing her face into an ample bosom covered in dark, wiry hair. She screamed into the person, and the person held her tighter and tighter.
"You're coming home with me," the person said, and Danna found out it was Sister Anderson.
"They left me!" Danna shrieked. "My mom drove away because I wouldn't change clothes! They left me!"
"You're coming home with me," Sister Anderson repeated.
"I'm not changing clothes!"
"Good. I want you to come home with me exactly the way you are."
That startled Danna into silence. No one ever wanted her to be exactly the way she was. She nodded, trembling, and let Sister Anderson lead her down the porch and across the street.
When Sister Anderson pushed her door open, warm, spicy smells flowed out on a babble of voices. Danna turned to press her face into Sister Anderson's shoulder again, hiding like a toddler who thought that if she couldn't see anyone else, then no one could see her.
"I'm going to take you up to my room," Sister Anderson whispered. Danna nodded into her shoulder.
The nice smells and curious voices faded as they reached Sister Anderson's bedroom and Sister Anderson shut the door behind them. She guided Danna over to the bed. Danna sat where Sister Anderson put her, head drooping, as fragile as a soap bubble.
Sister Anderson sat down next to her, still hugging her. "You can stay in here as long as you like. We won't be eating for another couple hours. We would love to have you join us, but you can do whatever you want."
Danna nodded.
"Do you want to talk about anything?" Sister Anderson asked.
Danna considered. Her feelings were retreating again. If she talked, they might come back. If they came back, she might need to kill herself to stop hurting. She shook her head.
"All right. I'll help you lie down and relax." Sister Anderson knelt and took off Danna's black Converse, then helped her get her head on the pillow. She unfolded an extra blanket from the foot of the bed and gently spread it over Danna. Then she put the palm of her hand on Danna's forehead. "I'll come check on you in a little bit, okay?"
Danna nodded.
Sister Anderson went out and shut the door, shooing away the child waiting at the door to find out what was going on.
The blanket was warm, and spicy smells crept into the room from under the door. She drowsed. She felt distant from her feelings again, but this time because she was wrapped up in warmth and safety by Sister Anderson, the only person who had ever told her that her mom was wrong about anything. Her earlier despair seemed distant and temporary outside that soft, warm layer. She decided not to kill herself.
She blinked a few times and looked at the wall. There was a painting on the wall of Christ helping two children across a boulder-strewn river.
Christ was holding one child, and reaching down to help up the second child who was trying to climb a boulder to get out of the rushing water. Danna blinked, and the river started flowing. She became the girl who was trying to climb out of the river onto the rock, straining to reach Christ's hand. An awareness infused the soft, warm layer around her, soothing her, and communicating her identity to her.
My daughter.
She blinked, and the river in the painting disappeared as she understood the girl in the painting. She was yearning for Christ with such singleminded determination that the river hardly existed for her. And Danna became the girl again, leaving everything behind in that one faith-filled hope of reaching the man who knew who she really was, her Savior, Jesus Christ. She blinked, and fell asleep, floating in the cradle of her true identity.
Brian answered the door when the Graysons arrived, but because Ruth was there too, he couldn't say very much.
"We're so glad you came!" Ruth exclaimed. "We even cleaned the bathroom in case you have to go. Do you want me to take those rolls into the kitchen? I saved the marshmallows because you said you'd help me with them. Hannah wants to help too, but there's only one pan so I don't really think we need her help. Did you not wear coats because you live next door? My mom always makes me wear a coat. When I grow up, I'm never going to wear a coat either."
"Thanks for coming," Brian managed to work in. He held out his hand and both Amanda and Brandon shook it.
"Thanks for the invitation," Amanda replied. "I'm going to take this stuff into the kitchen."
"I'll help you," Ruth said. "Is that cranberry sauce? We don't have cranberry sauce because mom makes gravy, but mom said we should be polite and try some anyway because you said you were bringing it. This is Hannah. She's my little sister. And that's Noah. He doesn't eat vegetables, so usually he doesn't get dessert but dad said he can have pie anyway because today is Thanksgiving. Do you like green beans? I hate green beans. I only eat them because of dessert, but we're not having green beans today."
Ruth's chatter drifted back to Brandon and Brian as she guided Amanda into the kitchen, with Hannah and Noah tagging along.
"She's at that chatty age," Brian said.
"That age that goes from three until death?" Brandon asked.
Brian was startled into a laugh. "Yeah, that age."
"I've got two older sisters," Brandon said, "and I wasn't allowed to say a word until I was twelve."
"I've got two younger sisters," Brian said, "and I'm still not allowed to say a word."
"The reason I love football so much is because it's the only topic my sisters never talk about," Brandon said.
"I can take a hint. Right this way." Brian led Brandon to the family room and turned down the volume on the game so they could talk about the teams.
Eighteen football minutes later, Ruth popped into the family room to tell them dinner was ready.
"Already?" Brian asked.
"Mom wants you to carve the turkey. What are you going to carve it into?" Ruth asked.
"Pieces," Brian said.
"I like a man of simplicity," Brandon said.
Amanda and Maria exchanged surprised looks when their husbands showed up in the kitchen bantering with each other like old friends.
Brandon was lifting pieces of turkey on to the serving platter as Brian carved and the women made gravy when Hannah tugged on his shirt. "Hi, Missy," he said to her.
"Um, I think the cranberry sauce is really pretty," Hannah whispered.
"Did you know there's a whole color named after cranberries?" Brandon whispered back.
"Really? What color is it?" Hannah asked.
"Dark red, just like a cranberry," Brandon said.
"Wow," said Hannah. "That's my new favorite color."
"There's a girl in my mom's room," Noah announced loudly, climbing onto a kitchen stool to get a better view of the action.
"You didn't wake her up, did you?" Maria asked him.
"No, I just looked at her," Noah said.
"You have another daughter?" Amanda asked.
"It's the neighbor girl. Her name's Danna." Maria didn't volunteer any more information.
"How come she was screaming, mom?" Hannah asked.
Maria didn't know what else to say besides the truth. "Her family left for Thanksgiving without her. Please don't ask her a bunch of questions if she comes down for dinner. She might not want to talk about it." She gave Ruth a very pointed look and Ruth got very wide-eyed.
Just before they sat down to eat, Maria went to check on Danna. She came back in the kitchen and said, "Danna said she'd come out in a little bit, and we should start without her."
"Amanda, you can sit by me," Ruth said, waving her over.
"I'm going to save a place for Danna," Hannah said, throwing a leg over the chair next to her.
"I get to bless the food!" Noah reminded everyone.
Noah offered a blessing cut short by stage fright. Then the turkey, stuffing, potatoes, gravy, cranberry sauce, corn, green salad, rolls, and butter made their way around the table before Danna walked into the dining room in her stocking feet.
"I saved you a seat," Hannah said by way of greeting.
"I'm glad you came out for dinner," Maria said with a smile.
Danna offered a tentative smile around the table before sitting on the edge of the chair Hannah pulled out for her. Brandon passed her the turkey.
"There's a skull on your necklace," Ruth commented. "Did you get it for Halloween?"
Danna added a dab of potatoes to the small slice of turkey and shrugged. "Yeah."
"Have you met the Graysons?" Brian asked.
Amanda and Brandon introduced themselves and Danna smiled shyly at them. "I've seen your snowboards," she offered.
"Do you board?" Amanda asked.
"No, but it's my favorite sport to watch at the Olympics. It's like they're flying or something," Danna said.
"You should come with us on Saturday. I've got extra boots and a board. It would be way fun to teach you," Amanda said.
"Oh, I don't know," Danna said, bending over her plate so her hair swung forward.
"I bet your mom wouldn't care if you went," Ruth put in, and ignored the sharp look from her mother.
"She'd probably be thrilled if I broke my neck," Danna said.
There was a shocked silence and Danna stuttered into it. "I mean that Ruth is right and she wouldn't care if I go." Danna was used to blurting out anything that came into her head because no one ever listened to her. It was strange to realize these people were going to take her seriously.
"Can I go too, mom?" Ruth begged. "I won't break my neck."
"No, teaching one novice is enough. Maybe some other time," Maria said.
"Promise I can go some other time?" Ruth pressed.
"We'll see," said Maria.
Ruth hated it when grown-ups said, 'we'll see.'
"When your feet get big enough to borrow my boots, we'll talk about taking you snowboarding," Amanda said.
"I bet my feet are already bigger than Danna's. What size do you wear, Danna?" Ruth asked.
"Six," said Danna.
"Oh my heck! My feet are way huger than that! I wear a twelve!" Ruth said.
"Twelve in children's sizes is smaller than a six in women's sizes," Maria said. "You aren't going snowboarding this year."
"I wear a seven," Amanda told Danna. "I bet my old boots will fit you fine. Do you want to come over after dinner and try on boots?"
"You really want me to come?" Danna asked.
"We'd love it," Amanda said.
"You'll love it, too. It seriously makes you forget everything else in your life but the wind in your face and the way your board is flying. It's better than drugs," Brandon added.
Silence.
"I don't do drugs," Brandon tacked on hastily, "I just know someone who did drugs and said snowboarding was better. Really, I don't do drugs."
"Okay, I'll come," Danna said.
"If it's that good, maybe I ought to try it," Brian said.
"Dad! You can't go without me!" Ruth said.
"I'm kidding, honey. I'm not athletic enough anymore to survive a day on the slopes," Brian said.
"It wouldn't take much to get you back up there," Brandon said.
"We'll see," Brian said.
Ruth rolled her eyes.
It wasn't until after the food platters had been passed around a second time and people were exclaiming that they couldn't possibly eat one more bite even as they did, that the conversation turned to the last-minute nature of the party.
"We were worried it would only be us," Ruth said. "Lucky your sister broke her leg, huh Amanda?"
"I'll pass that on to her. She'll be thrilled to know it was lucky," Amanda said.
"Ruth, a broken leg isn't lucky," Maria said.
"Then how come people tell you to break a leg when they want you to have good luck?" Ruth asked.
Everyone laughed, but no one answered Ruth's question.
"This is tons better than hanging out with my family," Danna said. "I haven't gotten yelled at in hours now." There was that uncomfortable silence that reminded Danna that people actually listened to what she said. "My mom yelled at me about what I was wearing," she explained. "She hates the way I dress. I didn't think she'd leave me behind, though. We fight all the time, but I never really thought she meant it." As she said it, she realized it was true. She didn't expect anyone to listen to her at home, but she didn't listen to anyone else either.
"She shouldn't have left you behind," Brandon said quietly, idly dragging his fork through the remaining gravy on his plate. "Parents shouldn't punish their children by abandoning them or ignoring them. That's cruel." He set his fork down and stared at his plate.
Under the table, Amanda took his hand.
"But I didn't change clothes," Danna said.
"Doesn't matter. It was still wrong to leave you behind," Brandon said.
"I agree," Brian said. He was thinking of how his dad had yelled at him about not coming home for Thanksgiving and then hadn't talked to him since then.
"Your mom got mad at you?" Hannah asked Danna.
"Yeah, she's always mad at me," Danna said candidly.
Hannah glanced at her dad, and then away.
Brian's thoughts shifted from the way his father had acted to the way he acted. He never abandoned or ignored his children, but he did yell at them, just like his father. Thanksgiving dinner turned into a rock in his stomach.
"I'm going to clear up some of these dishes," Maria announced. Amanda and Ruth jumped up to help.
The afternoon was deepening into twilight when Amanda, Brandon and Danna all made their good-byes.
"I wish I could go snowboarding," Ruth said.
"We'll get you up there in a few years," Brandon promised her. "Danna will come tell you all about it when she gets back."
"If I can even move," Danna said.
After another round of thanks, the three of them headed to the Graysons to find boots and a board for Danna.
"There's a pair of black boots with a pink stripe in the bottom of the closet in the entryway," Amanda called from the garage. "See if you can find them."
Danna opened the closet door and bent to the pile of boots and shoes, searching for the black boots with the pink stripe. She moved a large pile, and inhaled sharply at what she uncovered. Too overwhelmed to be polite about someone else's stuff, she pawed boots out of the way and pulled the object free.
Amanda came in from the garage. "We can adjust the bindings," and then she saw what Danna was holding. "Is that where that thing ended up? My mom gave that to me the day we moved in and I've been meaning to get rid of it." Amanda peered at Danna's face. "In fact, I'm giving it to you."
Danna nodded, unable to make the expected protests about giving something so expensive to someone you'd just met that day. The painting was even bigger than the one that hung in Sister Anderson's bedroom. "Can I pick it up tomorrow? If I take it home with me tonight, my mom will see it and make me bring it back."
"Of course you can," said Amanda. "I'll even wrap it in brown paper for you. Put it down and let's try these boots on you. You might need three pairs of socks. You've got small feet."
Danna carried the painting of Christ helping the children across the river into the living room and set it next to the recliner while Amanda gave her boots to try on. When they went out to the garage, Danna carried the painting as far as the kitchen before reluctantly leaving it in the house. She picked it up again when they came back in the house, and set it by the chair she sat on while she talked more with Amanda and Brandon.
Finally, when it was dark and late, and all the lights at Danna's house were on, she carried the painting into the entryway, where she set it as close to the door as she could.
"We'll be home all day tomorrow," Amanda promised, "you can come get it anytime."
"Thanks," said Danna.
Stephanie Simmons sat in her living room, flipping through the New Era, glancing out the front window occasionally, where she couldn't see past the pool of light from the porch light. After four articles, Stephanie finally saw Danna approaching. Stephanie was going to talk to Danna, and help her see that she should do what mom says and be part of the family again.
"Oh, hi," Danna said, breezing into the house. "Did you have a nice day? I did." And she ran up the stairs to her room before Stephanie could say anything.
Stephanie stood looking after her. That was wrong. Danna was not supposed to be happy about being left behind. She should have had a rotten day to teach her not to talk back to mom like that. Where was the justice in the world if Danna could rebel against her mother and still have a nice day?
After the kids were in bed, Brian dished himself a piece of apple pie and pumpkin pie, and added a large scoop of ice cream to the plate. "Are you sure you don't want any?" he asked Maria.
"I'm sure," Maria answered. "Eating late at night is going to give you indigestion." She was looking through the newspaper ads for Black Friday. She never went to the sales, but she enjoyed looking at the ads and exclaiming about the bargains.
"Find anything you want?" Brian asked, settling into the recliner.
Maria held up a Best Buy ad. "I would love that printer for my classroom." She flipped a few more pages. "And the point and click digital cameras are up to twelve mega-pixels now. Someday we need to upgrade our camera."
"Ruth will be thrilled to have her pimples preserved in high resolution," Brian said.
Maria laughed. "Can you believe how fast she's growing up?"
"She sure thinks the world of Amanda," Brian commented.
"Amanda was great with the girls. If she was active, I'd call her into Young Womens in a heartbeat," Maria said.
"Maybe that would get her to Church," Brian suggested.
"No, working with the youth isn't how you reactivate yourself. It's where you go once you know you have a testimony. Those young people need someone to rely on, not someone who is searching as much as they are. But Amanda is a lot of fun. I hope she does take Danna snowboarding," Maria said.
"Earlier this morning I was thinking that staying in Utah for Thanksgiving would be the right thing if I could reactivate the Graysons, but once they got here, I never once thought about inviting them to Church," Brian mused.
Maria shrugged. "They know where Church is if they want to come."
"Do you think it was okay to stay in Utah anyway? Even if we didn't really work any miracles by staying home?" Brian asked.
Maria started turning the pages of a JcPenney ad. "I think it's our business where we spend holidays, and we don't need to wonder if it's okay or not. I didn't say anything before, but I thought the way your family treated us was shameful. It made me angry that they would be so manipulative and pressure us so much to make us feel guilty about something that is completely our decision. You remember the year we were planning on going to California for Christmas to stay with my family? Then Hannah spent that whole winter catching one bug after another, and I was pregnant with Noah, so we called and cancelled. My mom was a sweetheart about it. Dad express mailed all the gifts to us, and then they drove out in January to visit. They didn't act like it was the end of the world to change holiday plans."
Brian worked on getting the right proportion of ice cream and apple pie on his fork. Maria just gave him the starting point for his own feelings, and now anger about how his family had reacted to their Thanksgiving plans started rising in him, replacing his guilt and self-doubt. "You're right. Some of those emails Crystal sent me were plain mean."
"Yes, they were," Maria agreed.
"And my dad never contacted me at all after he yelled at me that second time. He sat back and let mom and Crystal do all his dirty work. He does that a lot. That email Heather sent to you was snotty, even though she pretends to be nice. Where does she get off making her daughter cry and then blaming it on us?" Brian said.
"That email made me angry," Maria said.
Brian sat up straighter, waving his fork to emphasize his words. "It's not my fault my mom is on anti-depressants. She'd be on anti-depressants whether we went to Michigan for Thanksgiving or not. And the kids didn't want to see their cousins anyway. We did the right thing to stay in Utah just because we wanted to, even if we didn't have any big, important reason."
"That's right," Maria said. "Your family was wrong."
"My family was wrong," Brian repeated.
Oddly, Brian's expression reminded Maria of the way Danna looked at dinner, when Brandon told her that her mother was wrong to leave her behind, one part surprise and two parts relief.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Chapter 51
Carly Simmons pushed the speaker button on the phone and her father's voice filled the room. Carly bowed her head, checking out of the corner of her eye as Spencer and Stephanie bowed their heads too. Her father prayed in his sonorous prayer voice for their grandson and nephew, Dugan, to have his heart softened by the power of the Holy Ghost that he might fulfill his duty to serve a mission. When he said 'amen' Spencer got up to leave to get something to eat. Carly glared him back into his seat.
The phone beeped as Carly's father dialed Dugan's phone number to let him know about all the family support he had to serve a mission. The phone rang and rang until it clicked into voice mail. Carly's father left his grandson a message telling him about the family fast and their hope that he would use his free agency to make the right decision. Everyone on the conference call chorused in on the 'good-byes' and then it was over.
"Spencer, set the table for dinner," Carly said. She wanted to change shoes before getting dinner out of the crockpot.
"I'll help, dad," Stephanie said, following her dad out of the room.
After taking her nylons and pumps off, Carly slipped her feet into house slippers. She always felt guilty about not wearing her nylons on Sunday all day, but it was thrifty to take them off to avoid getting runs and needing to buy new ones.
"Children, dinner!" she called to her sons on the way to the kitchen. Spencer was folding napkins for each place setting while Stephanie was getting the salt and pepper and butter. "Stephanie, go tell Danna it's time for dinner."
Stephanie walked to Danna's bedroom door and tapped on it politely to tell her dinner was ready. Danna arrived in the kitchen wearing an over-sized man's shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a tight pair of leggings with a wide lace hem. The white cords of her iPod showed up brightly against all the black.
"Take those out for Sunday dinner," Carly told her.
Danna pulled out her earbuds and deposited her iPod on the counter before sitting down. Austin and Yancy piled into the kitchen in the middle of an argument, which Carly settled by telling them they couldn't play any more computer games today at all. They decided to fight about who got the computer first after school tomorrow instead.
"That's enough!" Carly said. "Bow your heads for the prayer!"
Everyone bowed their heads while Spencer blessed the food and the hands that prepared it.
Austin got his serving of salsa chicken and started picking out the peppers. Yancy grabbed two rolls. Stephanie took salad, chicken, and a roll, all carefully separated on her plate. Danna plopped a huge spoonful of chicken on her plate, dug her roll into the sauce, and licked her fingers where the sauce got on them.
"When we're at your grandparents' house for Thanksgiving this week, I want you all to remember your table manners. You eat what you're given," Carly said, with a meaningful look at the small pile of rejected peppers on Austin's plate.
"No one puts peppers in turkey, mom," Austin said.
"I don't want you picking the onions out of the stuffing, either," Carly told him. "Yancy, you eat some vegetables or you don't get dessert."
"I know," said Yancy, starting on his second roll.
"Spencer, I don't want you spending all your time watching football. You offer to help with the dishes," Carly said.
"I always do," Spencer said.
"Yes, but I always have to remind you," Carly said.
"You remind me before I have a chance to offer," Spencer said.
"That's not the point," Carly said.
Spencer shrugged. Carly waited, then turned away.
"Stephanie, you be sure and help Aunt Shauna with her baby so she has a turn to eat," Carly said.
"I love babies!" Stephanie replied.
"Danna, I want you to wear that mint green sweater twinset I got you for your birthday, with a pair of slacks," Carly said.
"Whatever, mom," Danna said, mopping up sauce with a second roll.
"That's not an appropriate response. You're not going to Thanksgiving dressed like doom and gloom," Carly said, spearing pasta salad on her fork.
"I'll dress however I want," Danna said irritably. "It's my body and my clothes. I buy them myself and I get to wear them."
"Not for Thanksgiving," Carly said, her smile becoming brittle. This was a holiday. Holidays were happy times, and that included wearing happy clothes.
"Afraid someone will think one of your kids isn't perfect?" Danna said.
That was exactly what Carly was afraid of, and it made her angry that Danna would sneer at one of her biggest fears. Her parents were counting on her, especially this year with Dugan making the wrong choice about his mission. "We don't need to spend the holiday being treated to one of your visual temper tantrums. You can behave yourself for once and quit acting like one of those self-absorbed, selfish brats who has nothing better to do than obsess about how misunderstood they are. You will wear normal clothes on Thanksgiving."
Stephanie lowered a bite of food and concentrated on chewing the food already in her mouth, staring at her plate. Yancy perked up to see what happened next. Spencer and Austin were so engrossed in their dinner that they didn't notice anything at all.
"No, I won't," Danna said, putting her fork down.
"Yes, you will," Carly said, taking a second helping of salad to show that she wasn't going to let Danna bother her appetite.
"My clothes are who I am! Deal with it!" Danna yelled.
"You are not that kind of person! You were raised in a good home to have a good attitude, and I will not tolerate you acting like you're suffering!" Carly yelled back.
"Well, I am suffering! I wish someone in this family cared one bit about who I really am, but no, we've all got to be perfect to prove that you're the perfect mother! I'm not part of your image anymore, mom, and I'll dress anyway I want to!" Danna yelled.
"This has nothing to do with me!" Carly said. Her daughter's attitude was getting out of control. Carly reproached herself for ever allowing things to get this far. She should have gotten rid of Danna's black clothing when it first appeared.
Stephanie put her fork down and bowed low so that her hair swept forward to cover her face. Yancy took another roll, and picked at it like he was eating popcorn. Austin slipped out of his chair and away from the table.
"Whatever! You're just afraid you're going to look bad if I show up dressed like myself!"
"That is not who you are! You are a girl from a good family, and you're going to dress like it! Some day you'll thank me!" Carly yelled.
Danna rolled her eyes. "Mom's favorite line: 'some day you'll thank me.' Newsflash mom, I am never going to thank you for anything. I can't wait to leave home and never see you again!"
Carly's lips went tight and her eyes widened. Her sister Suzanne had left home and never seen their parents again. She had to be better than her parents and not lose a daughter the way her parents lost Suzanne. "Don't you ever say anything like that," Carly said.
That brought Danna up short. Her mom was supposed to still be yelling, not speaking in a strangled whisper with real fear in it. "I'll say it if I want to," Danna said, but all the momentum was gone.
Carly picked up her plate to take it to the sink, shoulders back and head lifted. "You will wear that nice green sweater for Thanksgiving."
"No, I won't," Danna muttered, but only Stephanie heard her.
After the dishes were cleaned up, Danna was downloading new music on the computer when Stephanie walked up.
"Hey," said Stephanie.
"Hey," Danna replied.
"Are you really going to wear your black clothes to Thanksgiving?" Stephanie asked.
Danna clicked the download button and watched the icon cycle. She knew what Stephanie wanted to hear, and part of her wished she could say it. But she couldn't give up her clothes. She tried so hard to not let anything bother her anymore; her clothes were her only mute signal to the world that something was bothering her very much. Wearing a green sweater would betray something fragile and deep inside herself. Looking like any other normal, happy girl would be the lie that drove her insane. She couldn't do it.
"Yeah, I'm going to wear whatever I want," Danna said.
"I really wish you wouldn't," Stephanie said.
Danna shrugged.
After a while, Stephanie went away.
"Did you hear his voice crack right then?" Amanda Grayson asked her husband.
"I think he invented a new note," Brandon said.
"Simon is going to rip his head off for that one," said Amanda.
"Paula will tell him he has inner beauty and make it all better," Brandon said.
"We've been watching American Idol for too many seasons," Amanda said.
"Yeah," Brandon agreed.
After the next contestant sang and the commercials started, Amanda said, "I'm going to help Tracy Nesbitt set up for the ward Christmas party in a few weeks."
"Why?"
Amanda shrugged. "I want to."
They watched a commercial for new cars, and another one that offered help with foreclosures. Then another contestant sang.
After she finished, Brandon said, "you're going to get sucked back in."
"I'm only helping out on a few activities. And I might go to Enrichment in January with Tracy."
"Is she reactivating you?" Brandon asked.
"I'm doing most of the work," Amanda said. "I have to keep asking her to invite me places."
"You're seriously going back to Church?" Brandon asked.
"Not Church; just activities. I want friends, Brandon. We're living here for years and years. I can make friends at the activities. They'll fall all over themselves trying to fellowship me. I'm not going to Church on Sundays or getting a calling or anything like that," Amanda said.
"That's what they all say," Brandon said.
"Well, I'm not," Amanda said.
Another contestant sang, and the judges gave their critiques.
"We're going to end up with home teachers," Brandon predicted gloomily. "It'll be some really nice guy who brings his polite teenage son with him, so we'll feel like total jerks if we chase them off."
"Oh, stop."
"You won't make real friends until you have kids. Mormon moms only make friends with other moms," said Brandon. "They don't have anything else to talk about besides their kids. You're wasting your time."
"It's my time, and I'll waste it if I want to," said Amanda.
"If it makes you happy," Brandon said.
After American Idol finished, Amanda went out to her Honda to get her schedule for home visits tomorrow. It was parked in the driveway instead of the garage because their skiing stuff was all over the garage. She picked up the folder with her schedule in it, then reached over the seat to get her magazine. When the cell phone in her pocket rang, it startled her just enough to make her drop the folder, scattering the pages on the floor of the car and outside, where the wind picked them up and blew them down the driveway.
"Hello," said Amanda, chasing a paper.
"Hello, darling, it's mom," said her mom, Betty.
"Hi, mom," Amanda said, bending to scrape her cold fingers along the dry cement to pick up a paper.
"I have such terrible news, dear," said her mom.
"What happened?" Amanda asked as she picked up the one paper and a second one blew past her.
"Angela broke up with Rick. Can you believe she'd be willing to throw it all away like that? Rick is in shock. He said she didn't even have a good reason. She said she was still dating other men, and he when he asked her to date him exclusively, she refused! He hasn't dated anyone except her since they met, and she wasn't willing to extend the same commitment to him," Betty said.
"Did anyone else want to go out with him?" Amanda asked, carrying the paper back to the front seat of her Honda before trying to find the others.
"That's not the point," Betty said.
"Did she not want to date him at all, or was she willing to date him along with other people?" Amanda asked.
"I didn't pry into the details," Betty said. "He was obviously very upset."
A couple of kids appeared out of the dark, and one of them said, "hi Amanda! Do you need help?" as she stepped on a paper and bent to pick it up.
"Thanks," Amanda whispered to the girl.
"I'm her visiting teacher," the one girl said to the other girl, and Amanda recognized Ruth Anderson.
"What was that?" her mom asked.
"Nothing, mom," Amanda said quickly. "I'm outside, and a couple of the neighbor girls are helping me pick up some papers I dropped."
"This is Abby," Ruth continued. "Her mom is your other visiting teacher."
"So I guess that means we won't be meeting Angela at Thanksgiving," Amanda said quickly, to cover up Ruth's piercing voice.
Abby found the last paper that had blown down the driveway and handed it to Amanda. Amanda headed back to her Honda to pick up the papers scattered in her car, and both girls followed her.
"Are you on the phone?" Ruth asked.
"Darling, you haven't heard?" her mom asked. "We're leaving tomorrow for Arizona! Kathy broke her leg in two places in a grocery store when she stepped on a can of green chilies that fell out of a display. Keith already left for a holiday sales meeting in Flagstaff. Kathy and the kids were going to join him for Thanksgiving weekend, but now they obviously can't go. Your dad and I are already packed and planning to leave at the crack of dawn."
"Kathy broke her leg?" Amanda repeated.
"She might be able to sue the grocery store, too! She's already been contacted by two lawyers. They might get enough money to pay down the mortgage so they're not upside down in their loan anymore. They're very excited," Betty said.
"So we aren't going to Thanksgiving at your house?" Amanda said.
"You don't have anywhere to go for Thanksgiving?" Ruth said.
Amanda waved at her to be quiet.
"We'll miss you tons, sweetheart!" Betty assured her.
Whatever. There were grandchildren in Arizona. Not that Amanda begrudged her the trip at all. Poor Kathy!
"Is she in a lot of pain? Will she need surgery to set her leg?" Amanda asked.
"I'm going to get my mom," Ruth said in excitement. "Come with me!" she ordered Abby as she ran across the snowy grass to her own house. Abby ran after her.
"They don't know for sure. An orthopedic surgeon is going to look at the x-rays tomorrow," Betty said.
"Keep me updated, all right? Is there anything she needs that I can send with you? I've got a bunch of movies and books you could borrow. I bet she's going to be bored out of her mind," Amanda said. "Maybe I'll bring you a box full of movies and books tonight."
"That would be so sweet of you!" her mom said. "We've still got room if you want to send a care package."
"I can put the cranberry sauce in it too," Amanda said with a laugh.
"Will you and Rick be all right for Thanksgiving? He's so devastated by Angela's fear of commitment," Betty said.
"Food and football will make him happy again," Amanda said. "We'll find something to eat." The front door of her neighbor's house slammed as the girls reappeared with an adult in tow.
"I'm going to go fill the gas tank. You take care, and we'll see you later on tonight."
"Thanks for calling, mom."
"Bye, honey."
"Bye."
Amanda pushed the off button on her phone as Ruth dashed up, brimming with excitement, tugging on her mom's hand. Amanda's previous interaction with Maria Anderson involved a conversation about their mutual fence line, and waving when they saw each other outdoors. She seemed like a typical Mormon mother, too busy with children and callings to be a prospective friend.
"You don't have plans for Thanksgiving anymore, right?" Ruth demanded. "I was telling my mom you don't because someone broke her leg."
Maria glanced at the phone in Amanda's hand. "Did you listen in on her phone call? Ruth, you know better than that." She turned back to Amanda. "I'm so sorry for the invasion of privacy."
"Mom, she's standing in her driveway! It's not like I listened to a phone call in her house!" Ruth said.
Amanda laughed. "She's got a point. And yes, my sister broke her leg today and my parents are heading down to Arizona to help out with her kids instead of hosting Thanksgiving dinner. It's nothing private."
"She can come to our house for Thanksgiving dinner, mom! Ask her!" Ruth urged. "Then we won't be all by ourselves!"
"I wouldn't want to impose at the last minute," Amanda hedged, hoping it was fine to impose. Otherwise, Thanksgiving dinner was going to be cranberry sauce on rolls while watching football with Rick.
"It wouldn't be any imposition at all. It's just our family, and we've got more food than we can possibly eat. I'd love it if you and your husband could join us," Maria said. "Please come."
"Thanks so much for inviting us. We'd love to come. I have cranberry sauce and rolls. Is there anything else I can pick up for dinner before Thursday?" Amanda said.
Maria shook her head. "That sounds perfect. We'll be eating about one o'clock, but you're welcome to come whenever you want and watch the parade and then the football game."
"I can help peel potatoes," Amanda offered. "I'm not much of a cook, but I can follow directions and chop things up."
"Do you want to help me put marshmallows on the sweet potatoes?" Ruth asked.
"I'd love to," Amanda said.
"Cool," said Ruth. She turned to Abby. "I told you she was cool."
Abby smiled shyly.
"Your mom is a really nice lady," Amanda told Abby.
"Thanks," Abby said.
"That sounds wonderful," Maria said, and Amanda noticed she was shivering.
"Thanks again for the invitation. I'd better let you go get inside before we all freeze to death," said Amanda. She tucked the schedule firmly under her arm. "I'm glad your daughter ran into me."
Ruth beamed.
"We'll see you on Thanksgiving," Maria said, turning to go home.
As Amanda walked into the house, she heard Maria murmur something too low to hear, and Ruth reply, "she said it was okay, mom."
The phone beeped as Carly's father dialed Dugan's phone number to let him know about all the family support he had to serve a mission. The phone rang and rang until it clicked into voice mail. Carly's father left his grandson a message telling him about the family fast and their hope that he would use his free agency to make the right decision. Everyone on the conference call chorused in on the 'good-byes' and then it was over.
"Spencer, set the table for dinner," Carly said. She wanted to change shoes before getting dinner out of the crockpot.
"I'll help, dad," Stephanie said, following her dad out of the room.
After taking her nylons and pumps off, Carly slipped her feet into house slippers. She always felt guilty about not wearing her nylons on Sunday all day, but it was thrifty to take them off to avoid getting runs and needing to buy new ones.
"Children, dinner!" she called to her sons on the way to the kitchen. Spencer was folding napkins for each place setting while Stephanie was getting the salt and pepper and butter. "Stephanie, go tell Danna it's time for dinner."
Stephanie walked to Danna's bedroom door and tapped on it politely to tell her dinner was ready. Danna arrived in the kitchen wearing an over-sized man's shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a tight pair of leggings with a wide lace hem. The white cords of her iPod showed up brightly against all the black.
"Take those out for Sunday dinner," Carly told her.
Danna pulled out her earbuds and deposited her iPod on the counter before sitting down. Austin and Yancy piled into the kitchen in the middle of an argument, which Carly settled by telling them they couldn't play any more computer games today at all. They decided to fight about who got the computer first after school tomorrow instead.
"That's enough!" Carly said. "Bow your heads for the prayer!"
Everyone bowed their heads while Spencer blessed the food and the hands that prepared it.
Austin got his serving of salsa chicken and started picking out the peppers. Yancy grabbed two rolls. Stephanie took salad, chicken, and a roll, all carefully separated on her plate. Danna plopped a huge spoonful of chicken on her plate, dug her roll into the sauce, and licked her fingers where the sauce got on them.
"When we're at your grandparents' house for Thanksgiving this week, I want you all to remember your table manners. You eat what you're given," Carly said, with a meaningful look at the small pile of rejected peppers on Austin's plate.
"No one puts peppers in turkey, mom," Austin said.
"I don't want you picking the onions out of the stuffing, either," Carly told him. "Yancy, you eat some vegetables or you don't get dessert."
"I know," said Yancy, starting on his second roll.
"Spencer, I don't want you spending all your time watching football. You offer to help with the dishes," Carly said.
"I always do," Spencer said.
"Yes, but I always have to remind you," Carly said.
"You remind me before I have a chance to offer," Spencer said.
"That's not the point," Carly said.
Spencer shrugged. Carly waited, then turned away.
"Stephanie, you be sure and help Aunt Shauna with her baby so she has a turn to eat," Carly said.
"I love babies!" Stephanie replied.
"Danna, I want you to wear that mint green sweater twinset I got you for your birthday, with a pair of slacks," Carly said.
"Whatever, mom," Danna said, mopping up sauce with a second roll.
"That's not an appropriate response. You're not going to Thanksgiving dressed like doom and gloom," Carly said, spearing pasta salad on her fork.
"I'll dress however I want," Danna said irritably. "It's my body and my clothes. I buy them myself and I get to wear them."
"Not for Thanksgiving," Carly said, her smile becoming brittle. This was a holiday. Holidays were happy times, and that included wearing happy clothes.
"Afraid someone will think one of your kids isn't perfect?" Danna said.
That was exactly what Carly was afraid of, and it made her angry that Danna would sneer at one of her biggest fears. Her parents were counting on her, especially this year with Dugan making the wrong choice about his mission. "We don't need to spend the holiday being treated to one of your visual temper tantrums. You can behave yourself for once and quit acting like one of those self-absorbed, selfish brats who has nothing better to do than obsess about how misunderstood they are. You will wear normal clothes on Thanksgiving."
Stephanie lowered a bite of food and concentrated on chewing the food already in her mouth, staring at her plate. Yancy perked up to see what happened next. Spencer and Austin were so engrossed in their dinner that they didn't notice anything at all.
"No, I won't," Danna said, putting her fork down.
"Yes, you will," Carly said, taking a second helping of salad to show that she wasn't going to let Danna bother her appetite.
"My clothes are who I am! Deal with it!" Danna yelled.
"You are not that kind of person! You were raised in a good home to have a good attitude, and I will not tolerate you acting like you're suffering!" Carly yelled back.
"Well, I am suffering! I wish someone in this family cared one bit about who I really am, but no, we've all got to be perfect to prove that you're the perfect mother! I'm not part of your image anymore, mom, and I'll dress anyway I want to!" Danna yelled.
"This has nothing to do with me!" Carly said. Her daughter's attitude was getting out of control. Carly reproached herself for ever allowing things to get this far. She should have gotten rid of Danna's black clothing when it first appeared.
Stephanie put her fork down and bowed low so that her hair swept forward to cover her face. Yancy took another roll, and picked at it like he was eating popcorn. Austin slipped out of his chair and away from the table.
"Whatever! You're just afraid you're going to look bad if I show up dressed like myself!"
"That is not who you are! You are a girl from a good family, and you're going to dress like it! Some day you'll thank me!" Carly yelled.
Danna rolled her eyes. "Mom's favorite line: 'some day you'll thank me.' Newsflash mom, I am never going to thank you for anything. I can't wait to leave home and never see you again!"
Carly's lips went tight and her eyes widened. Her sister Suzanne had left home and never seen their parents again. She had to be better than her parents and not lose a daughter the way her parents lost Suzanne. "Don't you ever say anything like that," Carly said.
That brought Danna up short. Her mom was supposed to still be yelling, not speaking in a strangled whisper with real fear in it. "I'll say it if I want to," Danna said, but all the momentum was gone.
Carly picked up her plate to take it to the sink, shoulders back and head lifted. "You will wear that nice green sweater for Thanksgiving."
"No, I won't," Danna muttered, but only Stephanie heard her.
After the dishes were cleaned up, Danna was downloading new music on the computer when Stephanie walked up.
"Hey," said Stephanie.
"Hey," Danna replied.
"Are you really going to wear your black clothes to Thanksgiving?" Stephanie asked.
Danna clicked the download button and watched the icon cycle. She knew what Stephanie wanted to hear, and part of her wished she could say it. But she couldn't give up her clothes. She tried so hard to not let anything bother her anymore; her clothes were her only mute signal to the world that something was bothering her very much. Wearing a green sweater would betray something fragile and deep inside herself. Looking like any other normal, happy girl would be the lie that drove her insane. She couldn't do it.
"Yeah, I'm going to wear whatever I want," Danna said.
"I really wish you wouldn't," Stephanie said.
Danna shrugged.
After a while, Stephanie went away.
"Did you hear his voice crack right then?" Amanda Grayson asked her husband.
"I think he invented a new note," Brandon said.
"Simon is going to rip his head off for that one," said Amanda.
"Paula will tell him he has inner beauty and make it all better," Brandon said.
"We've been watching American Idol for too many seasons," Amanda said.
"Yeah," Brandon agreed.
After the next contestant sang and the commercials started, Amanda said, "I'm going to help Tracy Nesbitt set up for the ward Christmas party in a few weeks."
"Why?"
Amanda shrugged. "I want to."
They watched a commercial for new cars, and another one that offered help with foreclosures. Then another contestant sang.
After she finished, Brandon said, "you're going to get sucked back in."
"I'm only helping out on a few activities. And I might go to Enrichment in January with Tracy."
"Is she reactivating you?" Brandon asked.
"I'm doing most of the work," Amanda said. "I have to keep asking her to invite me places."
"You're seriously going back to Church?" Brandon asked.
"Not Church; just activities. I want friends, Brandon. We're living here for years and years. I can make friends at the activities. They'll fall all over themselves trying to fellowship me. I'm not going to Church on Sundays or getting a calling or anything like that," Amanda said.
"That's what they all say," Brandon said.
"Well, I'm not," Amanda said.
Another contestant sang, and the judges gave their critiques.
"We're going to end up with home teachers," Brandon predicted gloomily. "It'll be some really nice guy who brings his polite teenage son with him, so we'll feel like total jerks if we chase them off."
"Oh, stop."
"You won't make real friends until you have kids. Mormon moms only make friends with other moms," said Brandon. "They don't have anything else to talk about besides their kids. You're wasting your time."
"It's my time, and I'll waste it if I want to," said Amanda.
"If it makes you happy," Brandon said.
After American Idol finished, Amanda went out to her Honda to get her schedule for home visits tomorrow. It was parked in the driveway instead of the garage because their skiing stuff was all over the garage. She picked up the folder with her schedule in it, then reached over the seat to get her magazine. When the cell phone in her pocket rang, it startled her just enough to make her drop the folder, scattering the pages on the floor of the car and outside, where the wind picked them up and blew them down the driveway.
"Hello," said Amanda, chasing a paper.
"Hello, darling, it's mom," said her mom, Betty.
"Hi, mom," Amanda said, bending to scrape her cold fingers along the dry cement to pick up a paper.
"I have such terrible news, dear," said her mom.
"What happened?" Amanda asked as she picked up the one paper and a second one blew past her.
"Angela broke up with Rick. Can you believe she'd be willing to throw it all away like that? Rick is in shock. He said she didn't even have a good reason. She said she was still dating other men, and he when he asked her to date him exclusively, she refused! He hasn't dated anyone except her since they met, and she wasn't willing to extend the same commitment to him," Betty said.
"Did anyone else want to go out with him?" Amanda asked, carrying the paper back to the front seat of her Honda before trying to find the others.
"That's not the point," Betty said.
"Did she not want to date him at all, or was she willing to date him along with other people?" Amanda asked.
"I didn't pry into the details," Betty said. "He was obviously very upset."
A couple of kids appeared out of the dark, and one of them said, "hi Amanda! Do you need help?" as she stepped on a paper and bent to pick it up.
"Thanks," Amanda whispered to the girl.
"I'm her visiting teacher," the one girl said to the other girl, and Amanda recognized Ruth Anderson.
"What was that?" her mom asked.
"Nothing, mom," Amanda said quickly. "I'm outside, and a couple of the neighbor girls are helping me pick up some papers I dropped."
"This is Abby," Ruth continued. "Her mom is your other visiting teacher."
"So I guess that means we won't be meeting Angela at Thanksgiving," Amanda said quickly, to cover up Ruth's piercing voice.
Abby found the last paper that had blown down the driveway and handed it to Amanda. Amanda headed back to her Honda to pick up the papers scattered in her car, and both girls followed her.
"Are you on the phone?" Ruth asked.
"Darling, you haven't heard?" her mom asked. "We're leaving tomorrow for Arizona! Kathy broke her leg in two places in a grocery store when she stepped on a can of green chilies that fell out of a display. Keith already left for a holiday sales meeting in Flagstaff. Kathy and the kids were going to join him for Thanksgiving weekend, but now they obviously can't go. Your dad and I are already packed and planning to leave at the crack of dawn."
"Kathy broke her leg?" Amanda repeated.
"She might be able to sue the grocery store, too! She's already been contacted by two lawyers. They might get enough money to pay down the mortgage so they're not upside down in their loan anymore. They're very excited," Betty said.
"So we aren't going to Thanksgiving at your house?" Amanda said.
"You don't have anywhere to go for Thanksgiving?" Ruth said.
Amanda waved at her to be quiet.
"We'll miss you tons, sweetheart!" Betty assured her.
Whatever. There were grandchildren in Arizona. Not that Amanda begrudged her the trip at all. Poor Kathy!
"Is she in a lot of pain? Will she need surgery to set her leg?" Amanda asked.
"I'm going to get my mom," Ruth said in excitement. "Come with me!" she ordered Abby as she ran across the snowy grass to her own house. Abby ran after her.
"They don't know for sure. An orthopedic surgeon is going to look at the x-rays tomorrow," Betty said.
"Keep me updated, all right? Is there anything she needs that I can send with you? I've got a bunch of movies and books you could borrow. I bet she's going to be bored out of her mind," Amanda said. "Maybe I'll bring you a box full of movies and books tonight."
"That would be so sweet of you!" her mom said. "We've still got room if you want to send a care package."
"I can put the cranberry sauce in it too," Amanda said with a laugh.
"Will you and Rick be all right for Thanksgiving? He's so devastated by Angela's fear of commitment," Betty said.
"Food and football will make him happy again," Amanda said. "We'll find something to eat." The front door of her neighbor's house slammed as the girls reappeared with an adult in tow.
"I'm going to go fill the gas tank. You take care, and we'll see you later on tonight."
"Thanks for calling, mom."
"Bye, honey."
"Bye."
Amanda pushed the off button on her phone as Ruth dashed up, brimming with excitement, tugging on her mom's hand. Amanda's previous interaction with Maria Anderson involved a conversation about their mutual fence line, and waving when they saw each other outdoors. She seemed like a typical Mormon mother, too busy with children and callings to be a prospective friend.
"You don't have plans for Thanksgiving anymore, right?" Ruth demanded. "I was telling my mom you don't because someone broke her leg."
Maria glanced at the phone in Amanda's hand. "Did you listen in on her phone call? Ruth, you know better than that." She turned back to Amanda. "I'm so sorry for the invasion of privacy."
"Mom, she's standing in her driveway! It's not like I listened to a phone call in her house!" Ruth said.
Amanda laughed. "She's got a point. And yes, my sister broke her leg today and my parents are heading down to Arizona to help out with her kids instead of hosting Thanksgiving dinner. It's nothing private."
"She can come to our house for Thanksgiving dinner, mom! Ask her!" Ruth urged. "Then we won't be all by ourselves!"
"I wouldn't want to impose at the last minute," Amanda hedged, hoping it was fine to impose. Otherwise, Thanksgiving dinner was going to be cranberry sauce on rolls while watching football with Rick.
"It wouldn't be any imposition at all. It's just our family, and we've got more food than we can possibly eat. I'd love it if you and your husband could join us," Maria said. "Please come."
"Thanks so much for inviting us. We'd love to come. I have cranberry sauce and rolls. Is there anything else I can pick up for dinner before Thursday?" Amanda said.
Maria shook her head. "That sounds perfect. We'll be eating about one o'clock, but you're welcome to come whenever you want and watch the parade and then the football game."
"I can help peel potatoes," Amanda offered. "I'm not much of a cook, but I can follow directions and chop things up."
"Do you want to help me put marshmallows on the sweet potatoes?" Ruth asked.
"I'd love to," Amanda said.
"Cool," said Ruth. She turned to Abby. "I told you she was cool."
Abby smiled shyly.
"Your mom is a really nice lady," Amanda told Abby.
"Thanks," Abby said.
"That sounds wonderful," Maria said, and Amanda noticed she was shivering.
"Thanks again for the invitation. I'd better let you go get inside before we all freeze to death," said Amanda. She tucked the schedule firmly under her arm. "I'm glad your daughter ran into me."
Ruth beamed.
"We'll see you on Thanksgiving," Maria said, turning to go home.
As Amanda walked into the house, she heard Maria murmur something too low to hear, and Ruth reply, "she said it was okay, mom."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
