“No, I mean . . .” He raised a hand and let it flop back down. “You've taken care of us all so well, Jackie. I know this last year and a half hasn't been any easier for you than for the rest of us. I've been proud of the way you've grown up so quickly. But it's also made me sad to see you change so much. All the things you used to loveâthe gymnastics, the cheerleadingâyou don't do them anymore.”
“I don't have time.”
“I know. That's just it.”
My heart twinged, both for him and myself. “It doesn't matter, Daddy, I don't want to do those things now anyway. Like you said, I've grown up.”
“You're only sixteen.”
“Well.” I straightened my back. “Sixteen's not a kid.”
He laced his fingers, nodding slowly. “Jackie, I want you to understand me. I'm grateful for all you do with the house and kids. With my havin' to work to support the family, I couldn't have made it without you.”
He paused. I remained silent, not sure where he was headed.
“But lately,” he continued, “I've begun to feel how unfair this is to you. Now you mention at supper that your best friend's goin' out on her first date. I don't want you to feel that you're tied to this house every Friday and Saturday night. Your mama and I said that you could date when you're sixteen, and nothin' about that's changed. You understand? Even with all the work you do, I still want you to
feel
like you're sixteen.”
“Okay, Daddy,” I managed. How awkward, talking to him about going out. Hurt seared through me. I missed Mama so much! She was supposed to be here to help me with guys and romance. How could I possibly play her and be sixteen at the same time? “Nobody's asked me out yet anyway,” I added with a little shrug.
He smiled. “They will.”
I looked at my lap, wondering why we were having this conversation. A suspicion, dark and ugly, niggled at my brain. “Daddy,” I said abruptly, “why did you tell the Kings we'd go to their at-home?”
He blinked at the change in topic. “Why shouldn't we go?”
I lifted a shoulder. “Have they invited lots of people?”
“Probably. The Kings know lots of townsfolk, between their relatives and all the men that work with Jason at the mill.”
Exactly,
I thought. “So why did they invite us?”
“Well, I did help Katherine King the day she arrived in town. And she did meet you and Clarissa and Robert at church.”
He held my gaze, crinkling his forehead. Somehow I knew he feigned the puzzlement.
“You like her, don't you,” I accused.
He drew a breath. Now I'd done it. I'd crossed the line from unspoken to spoken, and he'd have to answer.
“What makes you say that?”
I pursed my mouth. “That's not fair. Taking my question and turning it back on me.”
“Okay.” He drew out the word, stalling for time. The sudden strangeness between us hung in the air. As if I were the parent, questioning the ill-advised plans of the teenage child. “Tell you the truth, I don't really know her.”
I looked away. That's not what I meant, and he knew it. You didn't have to know someone very well to be attracted to that person. “Oh, forget it.” My voice sounded tight. “It doesn't matter.”
Daddy opened his mouth, then shut it again.
“Jackie,” he would tell me much later, “I couldn't help being pulled toward Katherine. Surely now you can understand my loneliness at that time. Do you know how many nights I couldn't sleep in my empty bed after your mama died? I slept on the couch. Time and time again I'd force myself to be patient with Clarissa and her math, when all I wanted to do was scream my frustration that I didn't have a wife to help. Coworkers at the bank would complain about small things, and I'd think, âYou think
you
have problems.'”
Yes, Daddy, I understand now what I could not then. Now I know what it is to fall in love. To feel the giddy swirl of cringing anticipation and sodden hope. I know what it is to have your heart want to burst from your skin with longing. I know what it is to lose.
“Well.” I shifted toward the open book on my desk. “I have to get back to work.”
“Sure.” I heard the bed creak as Daddy pushed to his feet. When he reached my door, he hesitated. “Jackie, I really am grateful for everything you do. Your mama would be proud.”
I squeezed my eyes shut at the words. “Thank you,” I said softly.
He closed the door and left me.
N
o doubt Bradleyville will never see another “at-home” the likes of the one for Katherine May King.
Katherine did not come to church that morning. She'd stayed home, her mama explained with embarrassment, to get things ready. This raised more than a few eyebrows, as Bradleyville folk wouldn't think of so overtly putting a party before worshiping Jesus. Martha had made that mistake in the Bible, and look where it got her. Forever branded as a woman with skewed priorities.
However, it didn't seem to matter to Katherine. “I tol' her we could just keep it simple, put things out soon as we got home,” her mama confided to Mrs. B before the service. “But you know Katherine; she plants her feet in concrete, and that's that.”
Mrs. B chuckled as she laid an arthritic hand on Miss Connie's arm. “Don't forget, I raised a stubborn one myself. But Jessie came 'round, and so will Katherine. You just got to keep prayin'.”
Miss Jessie is Mr. and Mrs. B's niece, raised by them since she was sixteen, after her mama was killed. She's married to Lee Harding, Miss Connie's brother, which makes her Katherine's aunt. Miss Jessie was mighty helpful and sweet to me after my own mama's death, urging me to trust God, telling me that believe it or not, I'd get through the days with his help, just like she had. I couldn't imagine she'd ever once been stubborn. Miss Jessie was one of the best people I knew. Still is. And my family owes a whole lot more to her than we can ever repay.
We dawdled after church, giving the Kings time to get home first. Katherine didn't appear to be the homebody type, and hearing that she was in charge of her own welcoming, I lowered my expectations of the food several degrees. I figured if she managed to spread peanut butter on celery, we should be thankful. This assumption raised my spirits significantly. Daddy would not be able to deny Katherine's shortcomings in the kitchen. Pretty as a woman might be, a man had to eat.
Life does throw a few curveballs.
My thoughts swirled as we parked down the street from the Kings' house. First, of course, I worried about keeping Katherine away from Daddy, although I had no idea how. My lack of a plan made me feel about as confident as a kitten plotting the demise of a wildcat. Second, Alison's awe-tinged report of her date with Jacob taunted me. He'd kissed her at the end of their date. She'd been practically beside herself ever since. Surely spring fever had twirled through the air when I wasn't looking, I ragged to myself. My daddy had inhaled it, and now my best friend. I must have been doing laundry.
And third, I was about to enter Derek King's house. I'd never been there before. Would I have to talk to him? I have to admit that I felt somewhat curious to see him in his home. Kind of like spying on a rare species in its own habitat.
“What are we gonna do here?” Clarissa asked as Daddy knocked on the Kings' door.
“Eat,” Robert replied. Daddy chuckled.
“But there's no kids here that I know.”
“Maybe there will be.” I combed her hair with my fingers, and she pulled impatiently away. “Tell you what, as soon as we go in, you see who you can find.”
I glanced at Daddy, searching for the slightest hint of anticipation on his face. I saw none but felt no less edgy. Ever since our conversation Friday night, I'd sensed he was doing his best to prove he held no interest in Katherine King. As if he fooled me.
“Come in, come in.” Miss Connie beamed as she pulled back the door.
“Hey, Bobby.” Mr. King greeted us as we stepped inside.
“Thanks for includin' us, Jason, Connie.” Daddy and Mr. King shook hands.
Katherine was nowhere in sight. I looked into the crowded dining room and caught a glimpse of the food. My jaw nearly dropped. Before I knew it I'd wound my way through chatter and bodies to stand before the table, gaping at the delicacies. Tiny puffed pastry baskets with handles, filled with cheese and mushrooms. Chocolate cups with strawberry-colored thick cream. Thin, lacy cookies sprinkled with powdered sugar. Dainty open sandwiches with all sorts of different accoutrements. Fruits cut in unusual shapes. In the center of the table sat a gorgeous flower arrangement, trailing greenery that curled around flickering candles in multiple colors. I'd never seen lit candles in the middle of the day.
“Have you ever beheld such a pretty sight?” a familiar voice asked. I turned to see Miss Jessie at my side.
“No.” We both admired it for a moment. “Who did all this?” I asked, praying that some angel had miraculously taken over the Kings' kitchen.
“Katherine.” Miss Jessie tasted a cookie with utter delight.
My heart skidded to the floor. “But how did sheâI meanâwhere did she learn it?”
Miss Jessie brushed powdered sugar from her lips. “Katherine's done a lot a different things since she's been gone. Workin' for a caterin' company, for one thing.”
A lot a different things.
I felt immediately suspicious. “Oh, really. What else has she done?”
“Oh, I don't rightly know everything,” she said vaguely. “Maybe Katherine will tell you.”
Miss Jessie was close to her sister-in-law, Miss Connie. I'd have bet whatever the Kings knew about Katherine, Miss Jessie knew. I pursed my mouth. “Why'd she leave Bradleyville in the first place?”
Miss Jessie eyed me for a moment. “Aren't you the curious one. Oh, well,” she laughed, “seems most a the town's curious about Katherine.” She reached for a tiny sandwich and examined it. “She left to go to college.”
Not so unusual. “Where'd she graduate from?”
“Actually, she didn't. After a semester she decided she . . . wanted to do other things.” Miss Jessie gave a little shrug, as if to say it didn't matter. But somehow I got the impression it mattered a good deal to her and the rest of Katherine's family. I started to probe some more, then realized I'd been doing a poor job of keeping an eye on Daddy. “Where is Katherine, anyway?”
“In the livin' room, talkin' to folks.”
“Folks” could mean Daddy. “I'd better go say hi,” I breathed, then scurried off.
I heard Katherine's laughter before I rounded the cornerârich and tinkling at the same time. I spotted her in the midst of a gathering, mouth wide open, head tilted back. Her hair was pulled into a French twist, giving her a regal look. She wore pantsâblack, silky, and wide-legged, yet clingy to her curves. And a red silk blouse. Men and women alikeâalthough I have to admit the males outnumbered the females three to oneâhung on her every word.
“Land sakes,” she teased wizened old Mr. Luther, “how could I
possibly
forget you? You still pass Tootsie Rolls down the pew when you're supposed to be singing hymns?”
Mr. Luther blushed and silently drew a Tootsie Roll from his pocket. Everyone around him burst into laughter.
“Oh, you!” Katherine rested her hand on his shoulder. “The best things never change.”
I checked around for Daddy, happy to see him engaged in conversation with Mr. Clangerlee. Probably discussing all the cleanup they'd both had to do after the tornado.
“Jackie.” Clarissa appeared from nowhere. “I have to go to the bathroom.”
“Um, okay. It's probably down there.” I pointed with my chin.
Clarissa eyed all the people she'd have to wade through. “Come with me.”
“Oh, good grief, Clarissa, you can go by yourself.”
“No, pleeeease.”
I let out a martyr's sigh. “Oh, all right.”
I steered my sister around Katherine and entourage, then led her down a hallway until we found the bathroom. “Will you wait for me to come out?” she asked.
“Yeah, yeah, just hurry.”
I sidled toward the wall, watching Katherine intently through the doorway as I waited.
“Hi,” a voice said behind me.
I jerked around. Derek peered down at me, a video game box dangling from his hand. “Oh,” I said, feeling quite stupid. “Didn't know you were there.”
“I wasn't.”
I puckered my forehead.
“But now I am.” A smile flashed across his lips, then disappeared.
We stared at each other.
“I was just . . . waiting for my sister in the bathroom.” I gestured vaguely toward the door.
“And spying.” He said it with not the least bit of accusation.
I felt my cheeks go hot. “I was not.”
“Yes, you were.” He sniffed. “But it doesn't matter. Sometimes I catch myself watching her, too.”
“Spying on your own sister?” I blurted, then could have kicked myself. What was I doing talking to Derek King anyway?
He pushed his glasses up on his nose. “First of all, she's my half sister.”
I tried not to react. I never knew Miss Connie had been married before.
“Second, I really don't know her very well,” he said with matter-of-fact ease. “I mean, she left when I was six.”
I groped for something to say. I hadn't stopped to think what that would be likeâa stranger whisking into town and claiming your own family. For a moment I felt an odd alignment with Derek, which rattled me all the more. Then irritation settled in. Why was he telling me all this?
“I'm sorry,” I mumbled.
At that opportune moment, Clarissa emerged from the bathroom. She looked up at Derek and smiled her trusting Clarissa smileâthe one that always made the older women at church press her to their bosoms. “Hi.”