Edified

by Marissa Sail Fike

  “Right again,” Liam smiles, “She’s a Buddhist. That’s sort of a tension point between the two of them. Well, more so between dad and Nanni. But what can you do? I mean, we all live together, so we’re forced to make peace with our differences somehow or another. That’s why dad is so big on individuality and owning who you are — what your name means and all that.”

  I smile, “I really like that. Why is it less of a tension point for your mom, though? Is she less religious than Nanni?”

  “Oh no,” Liam says, “She is very much a devoted Buddhist. She just loves my father. I guess she chooses to focus on the similarities of their beliefs rather than the differences.”

  “Similarities?” I say, “Between Buddhism and Christianity?”

  He laughs, “At first, that seems crazy … But think about it. Both Christianity and Buddhism value putting love and kindness first, being humble, and the importance of forgiveness, right? The two religions agree on foundational principles, So that’s what mom chooses to focus on. Nanni can’t see past how different they are, though.”

  I nod, eyeing him for a moment, “And what do you believe?”

  “Eh … I veer more on my dad’s side than my mom’s.”

  “So you’re a Christian?” I smile.

  “Yeah,” He shrugs, “You could say that. It’s weird though, right?”

  “Of course not, why would it be weird for you to be a Christian?”

  “No, not that,” He specifies, “It’s weird that my family is half Christian and half Buddhist, but the majority of the state is Catholic …”

  “Oh,” I consider this, “Yeah, I guess that is sort of strange.”

  I’d never thought about it before, but what are the odds that most of the state is Catholic, and yet my circles have mainly been either non-religious, or recently, Christians?

  Liam smiles. I could be mistaken, but I think I see him flick his eyes briefly to the watch on his wrist.

  His polite time check snaps me back into the now. What am I still doing here?

  “Oh goodness, it’s gotta be getting late,” I say. “Thank you for the tour and for inviting me tonight, but I should get going.”

  “Oh, okay.” He says standing, “Let me walk you out to your car.”

  “No,” I say, “That’s okay. No need to get you cold if you don’t have to be.”

  He smiles sideways at me, “Okay, then. Have a good night, Grace.”

  “Thanks,” I say, giving him a churchly side hug, “You too.”

  I open the door to leave, greeted by a gust of cold air. As I make my way back to the car, I silently berate myself for staying as long as I did. For wanting so badly to forget my current situation.

  For letting myself hope.

  30

  Rae - Sunday

  My hair is still messy from the night before as I sip my coffee. Adam slipped away early this morning to help some friends move into their new apartment, while I took the opportunity to relish in some weekend sleeping-in.

  I haven’t decided how I want to go about handling what happened last night yet … Instead, my mind is occupied thinking about Grace.

  She’s really pregnant.

  Shouldn’t she be scheduling a doctor visit soon? And who will accompany her if Jayden is out of the question?

  I didn’t like the way she sounded yesterday on the phone … like someone who feels empty inside. As someone who knows exactly what that feels like and what it can do to a person, I refuse to let anyone else feel that way if at all possible. I pull out my phone and dial her.

  “Hello?” comes a groggy voice.

  “Grace, damn, did I wake you up? I’m sorry.”

  A sniff, “No. Can’t wake someone who never fell asleep.”

  My lips part, “You haven’t gone to bed yet?”

  “Mm-mm.”

  “Well, are you okay?” I shake my head, “Hell, of course you’re not. You know what? Just sit tight. I’m coming over.”

  “Rae … you don’t have to-”

  “I’m coming.”

  ***

  I let myself into the house and immediately Amity is at my feet. She’s circling my legs with her twisting tail and purring loudly.

  I shake my head, “Girl, I swear … you have a split personality.”

  She runs over to her food bowl, which is totally empty.

  I frown, going over to fill it up. Grace usually feeds Amity around seven …

  I hear the worst retching sound coming from her bedroom. Wincing, I proceed down the hall.

  The retching has stopped, but I knock lightly on her door before opening it a crack.

  “Grace?”

  “You can come in.” Is her stuffy reply.

  I open the door and try for a smile, but truth be told, I have never seen my best friend looking like this. Her nose is red and her eyes are puffy. She holds a puke bucket in her hand and her blanket tightly to her body.

  “Sorry I’m gross,” she says. “I’m not sick… I’m just… well, I guess this is life now. Morning sickness … nose clogged from crying.”

  “Girl, you don’t owe me an explanation for anything.” I say, going over to her, “You’ve been to hell and back.”

  She rolls her eyes, “Understatement. Those random bouts of nausea after the first test was negative are starting to make sense now.”

  I sit down on the bed, eyeing her puke bucket, “You need me to take that for you?”

  “Rae, no. Please. You don’t have to take care of me like this.”

  I squint at her, “What’s it gonna take for me to get you to sleep?”

  She laughs, “I’ve been asking myself that all night.”

  I shake my head, “Lay down. Now.”

  “Rae —”

  “Stop,” I say seriously, “I’m not gonna let you do this to yourself.”

  She looks at me, shocked. I’ve never spoken to her like this.

  To my surprise, she listens. She sets her bowl on the side table and settles under her covers.

  “Now just try to relax …” I say, lightly grabbing the bowl from her table, “Please try to sleep.”

  With that, I quietly slip from the room and into the bathroom to dump out her bowl. It’s a task I couldn’t ordinarily stomach, but some sort of maternal instinct kicks in and I find that I don’t care all that much.

  I see something on the counter — one of her essential oils. It’s lavender … which is supposed to be the sleep one I think.

  I take the tiny bottle into her room and eye the little device on her nightstand. I try to figure out how to work it, since she told me once that diffusing oils helps her sleep. I open the lid, sprinkle a few drops into the existing water, and press the button. To my delight, the machine powers on and begins steaming a dreamy scent into the air. I tighten the lid on the bottle and set it down, peeking over at Grace, who is already fast asleep.

  My shoulders soften. Her lips are parted because her nose won’t breathe right and she just looks so damn beat.

  I’ve never been good with saying the right words to a person who’s grieving, but hell if I don’t know how to take care of one.

  ***

  While Grace slept, I tried to help out with little odd jobs. Things that’d be easy to neglect when you’ve got a lot on your plate, like watering plants, doing dishes, folding laundry, and so on. I even gave my family physician a call to see if they had any openings today for a prenatal exam, just in case Grace felt up to it.

  Around two p.m., Grace’s door creaked open. She sauntered out to the seat next to me at the table, looking disheveled but rested.

  “Hey beautiful,” I say, “How you feeling?”

  She nods, “Pretty good. Better.”

  “Good,” I smile, scooting my chair back, “I made you lunch. Or breakfast I guess. Whichever.”

  I go over to the fridge and take out the sandwich I prepared. I place it in front of her on the table, but she just stares at it. After a few seconds, her face begins to crumple an
d she covers her face.

  “Oh, Rae … I don’t deserve this.”

  Some instinctual part of me moves my arms around her. I squeeze her gently, shaking my head, “Are you kidding me? If anyone deserves this sandwich, it’s you.”

  Her shoulders shake, and for a minute I think I’ve made the crying worse, until she removes her hands from her face and I see that she’s laughing. Her tear-streaked face is mingled with an unfitting expression of joy.

  She rubs her nose on her sleeve and stares at the plate, “Thank you for this. I didn’t know what I needed, but this was it.”

  I sit back in the seat next to her, smiling a little. “You know, I remember a pretty impressionable point in my life where I didn’t know what I needed either … but you did, Grace. Without hardly even knowing me, you had my back.”

  I think back to the first time Grace invited me to go to the gym with her — one of her New Year's resolutions. I didn’t want to … but the idea of having a friend at my new school was enticing enough to get me out of my bed where I usually took refuge. It was during these gym visits that I really learned my passion for physical training, so even in that regard, I have Grace to thank.

  She smiles at me, “Remember that one smoothie we made at your mom’s house after a gym sesh? It had a weird ingredient …”

  “Ricotta,” I laugh.

  “Yes!” She says, “And it was flipping delicious?”

  “It was better than it had any right to be. I have never, ever liked ricotta in any other format.”

  She belly laughs — such a warm sound that makes me happy.

  “I needed someone to remind me how to take care of myself,” I shake my head, “How to make healthy food and lifestyle choices … and you did that for me Grace. I can’t thank you enough for that.”

  Grace’s eyes get teary, “Oh, stop it … You’re gonna get me going again.”

  I can’t help but smile to myself. Somehow, some way, I said the right words this time.

  ***

  We hang out for awhile after she eats. We make a couple containers of bath salts and laugh about things that have nothing to do with her current situation. I’m not as into making things like this as she and my mom are, but I wanted to make sure we were doing something she would enjoy. Something she’d feel is productive.

  “So I made a phone call while you were out,” I say as we seal the last container.

  “Yeah?”

  “My family physician said she could get you in for a prenatal exam today if you feel up to it. The opening is in about an hour, so I’d just need to call and let her know.”

  Grace nods, “Oh … yeah, I need to do that.”

  She glances down at her grey sweats and fitted T-shirt, then over at the mirror at her tousled hair.

  “Oh …”

  I smile, grabbing her brush from the dresser and pulling a hair tie from my wrist, “What’ll it be, boss?”

  She smiles, “I don’t know, surprise me.”

  I go over to the couch and she sits on the floor between my knees. As I gently brush through her tangles and pull her hair into a loose braid, she is silent. I’ve always needed to talk through my emotions, but Grace needs silence to sort things out. So I don’t interrupt, because I know she’s already sifting through a lot of noise in there. I imagine she’s trying to untangle every loose string of her thoughts and organize them into boxes.

  “Gorgeous,” I announce, holding up a hand mirror.

  She smiles into it.

  As I call to confirm the appointment, Grace sweeps on a little mascara, looking nothing like a girl who's been up crying all night. She keeps on her cozy clothes at my encouragement, looking flawless regardless.

  “Doesn’t take much for you,” I tell her as we head out the door.

  She rolls her eyes, seeming a bit more like herself.

  ***

  The clinic is chilly inside.

  Why are they always so damn cold?

  Grace grips a plastic cup of green tea as we wait for her name to be called. I can tell she’s deep in thought, the way her eyes are trained intently on the wall across from us.

  “What’s going on in there?” I say, giving her back a rub.

  She shakes her head, snapping out of her trance. “Oh, nothing. Just thinking about last night.”

  I nod attentively.

  “I could use a distraction, actually,” She says with resolve, “Tell me something about your life. Your class progress, or something.”

  I wince, “Class progress isn’t one of my finer topics at the moment. I was supposed to meet up with this savvy student-tutor, but we haven’t been able to yet, and the test is coming up fast.”

  “Ooh,” Grace frowns, “I’m sorry.”

  “But forget about that,” I say, “I have way more interesting updates.”

  She turns with interest.

  “Do you remember Sam?” I smile.

  “Ross?”

  “Yes.”

  “Of course I remember Sam. What about him?”

  “I ran into him the other day at the gym.”

  “You’re kidding,” She smiles, “How is he?”

  “The same. But a man all over. We met up with Rosie too.”

  “Really?? Gosh I miss her.”

  “Me too,” I smile, “But no worries, I asked her to be a bridesmaid.”

  “Yeah? Oh wow, I’m excited now! We need to get together soon. Sam too. He can come shopping with us or something like we used to make him.”

  I wince, “Ehhh, not so sure about that.”

  Grace’s smile drops, “Oh no, it’s not awkward for you guys, is it?”

  “No,” I frown, “Not at all actually. It’s just … I think our little run-in struck a nerve with Adam.”

  “Ohhh,” She says, “I guess I never really took him for a jealous guy.”

  “Well, me either,” I say, “But you know how I felt about telling Adam everything when we got engaged? You know, ‘no secrets from my future husband’ kind of thing? Well, I didn’t spare any details when it came to Sam … so.”

  Grace winces, “Ooh. Yeah, I can understand that. He probably pictures you two in bed whenever he hears that name.

  My face twists, “Eww no. Don’t say that. Sam and I were just kids. It’s not like it was any good.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Grace says, “You know how our minds distort things. And you’re the love of Adam’s life. Anything you do is nothing short of a beautiful, flawless act. His mind is gonna create that virgin-sex into the most passionate, lustful-looking thing there ever was.”

  I frown.

  “I mean, you can’t tell me your mind doesn’t do that when he mentions Lexi,” She adds.

  It does.

  I shake my head, trying to clear the visual, “That’s beside the point. I didn’t tell you the craziest part about all this yet.”

  Grace raises a brow.

  “Sam is with Rosie now,” I say.

  “What?”

  “Yes!”

  “How did that transpire??”

  “Long, adorable story.” I smile, “You should ask Rosie when you see her.”

  “I will,” She smiles back.

  After a few seconds her face pales.

  “What’s wrong?” I say.

  “The wedding … I’ll be around eight months pregnant for it.”

  “That’s okay,” I say quickly. “We haven’t ordered dresses yet or anything. Even if we had, it wouldn’t be a problem to get you another.”

  Her lips quiver, “You and your sister and Rosie are gonna look like goddesses and I’m gonna look like a whale.”

  “Nooo,” I console, “You’re gonna be adorable. Don’t think like that.”

  She presses her fingers to the bridge of her nose, “I need another distraction. A good one.”

  With Grace on the verge of tears, I start to panic. I don’t have anything else …

  Think. Think. Think. The wedding — yeah. We were talking about the wed — O
h! I know!

  “Adam and I aren’t really having sex right now,” I blurt.

  Her hand drops, “Wait, what?”

  I instantly regret it. I should’ve kept that one sacred.

  “Are you guys fighting?”

  “Well, no, not presently,” I say. “Don’t laugh at me, but I did some Bible reading about it. I just don’t really feel right about it anymore.”

  She frowns, “Why would I laugh at you?”

  “I don’t know …” I consider, “I guess I just assume people will laugh when they hear me talking about trying to lead a more biblical life. With my past and everything.”

  She shakes her head, “Who cares what anyone else thinks? I think it’s wonderful. And what’s important is that you feel like you’re doing the right thing. That’s between you and God.”

  I stare at my friend for a moment, wondering how we got here. A month ago, the two of us wouldn’t even know how to have a conversation like this. About spiritual edification, I mean. But here we are: two girls who have been enlightened and worked with … and I just can’t help but feel so much joy.

  “I would honestly like to do the same thing with my next relationship,” Grace continues, “It’s just … a better way to live. Has Adam been supportive so far?”

  “So far, so good,” I blush, recalling our rendezvous last night.

  “That’s so sweet,” Grace smiles, “I love you two together. Plus, think about how special your wedding night will be. To have waited all this time — it’ll be like the first time again.”

  “That’s the goal,” I smile back, “I’m not gonna lie though … it’s a hard goal to keep up.”

  “Well I can imagine,” She says. “How long have you guys been at it?”

  “Hmm, I guess it’s been about two weeks since I first mentioned it,” I say, “We had the conversation shortly before I ran into Samuel, actually … so you can imagine how Adam might’ve correlated the two.

  She looks confused, “What do you mean? Correlated you guys not having sex with you accidentally running into your ex?”

  I go on to explain the whole photography mishap.

  “So yeah …” I say, “the way it must’ve looked from his perspective is like, first I appear uninterested in having sex anymore, and then it looks like I’m sneaking around with my ex. Obviously that wasn’t the case, but after he explained his perspective to me, I understand how it looked.”