Sweetest Desires (A Sweetest Day Romance)

by Beverly Taylor

As the audience shouted “Encore!” and Anna-Maria curtsied gracefully, a bell rang. Anna-Maria looked around the stage for the source of the strange ringing, and Katharine blinked herself into consciousness. Lines of saliva slithered down the side of her mouth and spilled onto the goose down pillow. She closed her mouth and wiped her chin with the back of her hand. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a dream like this one.

  Suddenly realizing the ringing sound was coming from the telephone, she rolled over to answer it. The crumpled magazines lying on the bed shocked her back to reality. Thanks to Carson’s transgression, she’d fallen asleep in the middle of the day.

  “Ohmygosh! What time is it?” she said into the phone. “Hello?”

  “Mrs. O’Connor. This is Ms. Washington from The Hartford School. It’s now a quarter till seven, and the after-school center has been closed for forty-five minutes. I called your office, but you weren’t in and left messages on your cell phone. I need to know what type of arrangement you’ve made for CJ and Bethany to be picked up. Also, I need to talk with you about CJ’s behavior.”

  “I—I’m so sorry, Ms. Washington. I simply lost track of time. I’m on my way now. Thank you.” She returned the cordless handset to its base and scooped up the magazines, stuffing them into her dresser drawer. She splashed a few drops of water onto her face, brushed her hair, grabbed her purse, and hurried out the door.

  When she entered the after-school center, CJ with his jacket zipped, had his back to the room and was gazing out the front window. His arms were folded across his chest as if he were mad at the world.

  “Mom! Why are we the last ones to be picked up?” he shouted. “It isn’t fair! Where were you? We had to sit here and watch all the other kids’ moms pick them up. I hate being the last one here! I hate it here period!”

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Katharine said. “Where’s Bethany?”

  Before he could answer, Bethany toddled out of the little girls’ room. Seeing her mother, she ran to her and grabbed her around the waist. Katharine knelt down and hugged her, pressing her cheek against Bethany’s.

  “Mommy’s so sorry, baby. I promise I won’t let this happen again.” She turned to CJ and tried to stroke his cheek, but he jerked away.

  “CJ, that’s not nice,” Ms. Washington said.

  “Be quiet!” CJ roared, rolling his eyes at his teacher. “You’re not my mother!”

  “Now that’s enough!” Katharine scolded. “I’ve apologized! What more is there to offer?”

  Angrily, CJ opened the door and escaped to the backseat of the car.

  “That’s what I wanted to talk with you about,” Ms. Washington said.

  Katharine turned her face to her daughter. “Bethany, honey, put your jacket on and go sit in the car with your brother.”

  Bethany pouted. “I don’t want to. CJ’s mean.”

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. You sit in the front seat and be very quiet. Mommy will be right there. I just want to talk with Ms. Washington for a moment. Okay?”

  “Okay, but I still don’t want to.”

  Katharine waited to make sure Bethany got in the car without any trouble from CJ. Since she couldn’t see CJ’s head, she assumed he was lying across the backseat.

  “Mrs. O’Connor,” Ms. Washington began, pulling Katharine’s attention back to the matter at hand. “There’s been a huge change in CJ’s attitude. It’s like he’s transformed overnight. He’s not getting along with any of the children, and he’s constantly getting into fights with his best friends. CJ is a brilliant boy, but I really don’t know what’s going on with him. He won’t open up to anyone.”

  “Yes,” Katharine said. “I’ve noticed a change in him myself. I just thought he was picking up bad habits from other children. He also likes watching The Simpsons. I try to keep him from viewing that show because I think it’s a bad influence on children.”

  Ms. Washington nodded in agreement.

  “Thank you for notifying me of his conduct, Ms. Washington. I’ll talk with him and try to find out why it’s happening. If you continue to have problems with CJ, please let me know immediately.”

  “No problem. I’m sure he’s just going through a phase, like all boys his age. It’ll work itself out.” Ms. Washington smiled and guided Katharine to the door.

  “Thanks again, and I apologize for being late.”

  Her smile remained. “Not a problem,” she said. But Katharine suspected she was telling a polite untruth. She’d been with the children all afternoon dealing with CJ’s bad attitude and Bethany’s tears, and she hadn’t gone home at the regular hour because Katharine hadn’t picked them up.

  * * *

  Katharine and the children had eaten dinner and been settled into the house for over an hour when Carson stormed through the back door bellowing, “Kat! Kat!”

  Katharine leaned over the cherry-finished banister. She had moisturizer smeared over her face, and she was wearing a pair of baggy sweat pants and a wrinkled T-shirt. “I’m upstairs, Carson,” she called out. “I was just about to shower and—”

  Carson looked up at her and frowned. “Where have you been, and where are the kids?” he shouted. “Where are CJ and Bethany?”

  Katharine stared at him, alarmed by his fury and surprised to hear him refer to their children as kids. Both of them despised the term, considering it appropriate only for baby goats and other people’s unruly children. Deciding that his anger was her fault because she’d let him see her so unkempt and not wanting him to guess she’d seen his magazines, she attempted to placate him. “Calm down, sweetheart. The children are with me. They’re fine. What’s wrong?”

  “The school phoned me to say that you’d failed to pick them up. I called you at work only to find you were out of the office all day. And when I repeatedly phoned the house, no one answered. You didn’t answer your cell phone, either. Why am I even paying the cell phone bill if you don’t use it?”

  “I didn’t hear it ringing.”

  “What do you mean, didn’t hear it? What were you doing all day long since it’s obvious you didn’t go to work? You had me worried sick over the children.”

  “Just the children? Don’t I count for anything?”

  He lowered his eyes. “Well, you know what I mean,” he said, his temper cooling.

  “The children are fine. You were the one missing in action.” She hadn’t meant to say the words, but the past twenty-four hours had left her drained, and her involved ballerina dream had not helped this time.

  Carson rushed up the stairs, skipping every other one. He looked into the children’s bedrooms, but they weren’t there.

  “They’re in our room,” Katharine said, following him as he rushed in that direction.

  They found CJ relaxing on the huge bed with his hands behind his head while watching a DVD episode of Pinky and the Brain, and Bethany was lying on the floor, coloring in her book. Pinky and the Brain was another animated program Katharine disapproved of. She thought it was much too calculating and needlessly violent.

  Carson enjoyed the program. It was the one cartoon he and CJ enjoyed watching together, roaring with laughter. He’d had to remind Katharine of the excessively violent kids’ programs they’d grown up watching: The Bugs Bunny/Road Runner Show and Tom and Jerry among them.

  “Daddy!” Bethany rose from the floor and jumped into Carson’s arms.

  “Hey, Dad.” CJ briefly looked at him and returned his attention to the television.

  Katharine shooed the children from the room and sent them to the kitchen for a light snack. Then, without warning, she demanded, “Where were you last night, Carson?”

  “You know where I was.” He sounded calmer now that he’d seen the children.

  “I was up until after four this morning and you weren’t home,” Katharine returned.

  “Katharine,” Carson said, clearly trying to sound non-confrontational. “I’ve just been awarded the most coveted citation in my field, something I’ve been working
toward since the beginning of my career. Many men and women work in journalism until they retire, hoping each year will be their year to receive this high honor, only to trudge away empty-handed. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and one of the happiest moments in my life. And you stand here and complain because I couldn’t keep our dinner reservation? Think about it. Which of the two is more important? I told you I’d make it up to you. Now please, be happy for me, or pretend to be happy for me for all the years of my hard labor.”

  One of the most happiest moments in your life? Katharine thought. What are the others? From the ways things have been, certainly not our marriage. Maybe the births of our children, she’d hoped.

  She had no intention of reminding him that he’d stood her up at Cavalieri’s, but he’d opened the door for argument. She said nothing, thinking about the girlie magazines and how miserable her afternoon had been.

  Carson glared at her face and expelled a long breath as though taking time out to get a grip. “Kat, what’s wrong with you lately? Every time I leave the house, you put me through a royal grilling.”

  “Because you’re leaving the house more often and you stay for long periods that you can’t or won’t account for.”

  “Account for? What, I’m not an adult? I’m not allowed to come and go of my own free will? I have to check in with you if I decide to stop for a Pepsi with a coworker? When I need to take a leak, shall I call you first and ask permission?”

  “It won’t work, Carson,” Katharine responded, keeping her composure but matching the bite in his voice. “I’m not going to let you turn the tables and make me feel bad for asking why you were out all night.”

  She moved in slow motion to the dresser drawer and nervously pulled out the magazines, extending them to him. “What are you doing with these? And especially in our house!”

  He looked as dumbfounded as she’d felt a few hours earlier when she’d discovered the despicable magazines.

  He gaped at her for several seconds before managing to articulate a startled, “Kat?” He sounded as if his throat had constricted, as though every blood vessel leading from his heart had converged there. He was struggling to breathe and staring into nothing.

  Katharine allowed herself to look at his face only once, but he must have felt her eyes on him because he focused on her sharply.

  She continued to hold the girlie magazines at arm’s length. “I found them in the linen closet, on the bookshelf, in the laundry room, and under the mattress. Do I need to continue to play hide-and-seek? Are there any more?”

  Carson snatched them from her hand. “What were you doing looking there in the first place? To see what you could find to hold against me for not coming home last night?”

  Katharine rolled her eyes. “What if the children had found those magazines?"

  “I was careful about that.”

  “You’re careful to conceal it the way a drug addict hides his stash or the alcoholic keeps a hidden bottle in case of an emergency.”

  “Oh, come on. Give me a break.” His contrition was obviously dissipating.

  Katharine evaluated the situation. “If you’re a sex addict, you need to get help to combat it.”

  “Sex addict?” He snorted. “Can’t you hear how absurd that sounds?” He paused for a moment and then said more calmly, “I may sneak a peek every now and then, but these magazines aren’t just photo collections. They offer some good articles on world events and sporting news.”

  She stood facing him with her arms folded and her jaws clenched.

  “So now you think I’m some kind of pervert, huh?” he retorted, raising his brows.

  “I don’t know what you are, anymore, Carson, but I do know you owe me an explanation for your whereabouts last night and for having that filth in my home!”

  “I owe you nothing!” he responded sharply. He stormed out of the room and Katharine followed him only to find CJ and Bethany sitting at the top of the stairs. CJ held his stomach as if he were in pain and tears trickled down Bethany’s cheeks.

  Carson opened his mouth but said nothing, leaving Katharine to handle the awkward moment. She saw him glance over his shoulder with a defensive expression as if he blamed her for making him resort to girlie magazines for sexual satisfaction. He turned away without a word to her or the children and went downstairs.

  She heard the door open and shut with a swish and a click. Deep in her soul a voice struggled to cry out, but she silenced it.

  Later that night when she went to bed, she woke to the sounds of Carson snoring beside her. She cried silently. While she mouthed her prayers, her tears—remorseful, bitter and hopeless—slid noiselessly down her cheeks.

  Chapter 9

  Come by here, dear Lord. Come by here

  I really need you, Lord. Come by here

  Oh, Lord, come by here.

  Katharine sang the tune in her head all morning long. It helped her to find the right words to console her children before she took them to catch the school bus. Certainly, it wasn’t the first time they’d heard their parents arguing.

  She faced the day at work in exhaustion. Before she left work, she’d called in a pizza order for pick-up on the way home.

  CJ and Bethany rushed into the house and dropped their bookbags and jackets on the floor. CJ carried the pizza into the kitchen, opened the box, and was just about to lift out a slice when Katharine said, “You two know better than that. Go wash your hands first and say your grace before you eat.”

  Katharine escaped into her bedroom to allow herself a moment to breathe and think. Noticing a flashing red light on the cordless phone, she pressed star zero to retrieve the messages. One was from Natalie, one was a hang-up, and the last was from Ms. Cavacas, CJ’s third-grade teacher, reminding Katharine of the parent-teacher conference for the next day to discuss CJ’s failing grades and insubordinate conduct.

  Katharine made a mental note to call Natalie, and she was too concerned about CJ to give much thought to the caller who’d hung up. What’s going on with my son? It had to be the bickering that she and Carson had been doing so often lately.

  She thought it would be a good idea to sit and eat pizza with the children and talk to them about what had been happening between Mommy and Daddy. Standing in the doorway, she watched her two little ones eat and talk. Well, Bethany was talking while CJ was eating and not necessarily listening as his little sister babbled on about nothing and yet everything. She jabbered about being angry with her friend, Britain, for not sharing her snacks, to talking about her favorite Play-Doh colors and how much she wanted a Baby Alive doll for her birthday, not to mention other things in between.

  Katharine needed to rescue her guy from his chatterbox sister. “Hey,” she said, strolling in and sitting down in her place. “Did you guys save some for me?”

  “Yes, Mommy,” Bethany said, swinging her feet under the table and talking with her mouth full. “CJ had three pieces and I had two, but I only have one left. The rest is for you and Daddy.”

  “Why thank you, darling, and don’t talk with your mouth full. It’s very unladylike.” Katharine opened a napkin and placed a slice of pizza on top of it.

  “She ain’t no lady, that’s for sure,” CJ inserted. “She talks too much.”

  “Mommy said don’t say ain’t ’cause it ain’t—I mean”—Bethany put her fist to her mouth and blushed—“ain’t isn’t a word. Right, Mommy?”

  “Right, sweetheart. Ain’t isn’t a proper word. It’s a slang term.”

  “Why don’t you just shut up sometimes?” CJ fussed.

  “I don’t have to if I don’t want to. Right, Mommy?” Bethany looked at her mother with tear-filled eyes.

  “CJ, in this household we say be quiet, not shut up.”

  He remained silent, peeling a pepperoni from the crust and tossing it into his mouth.

  Katharine folded one arm and held her cheek in her hand with the other as she stared at her little man, contemplating asking her question. “CJ, do you
sometimes wish I’d be quiet too?”

  “Huh?” he responded with the crust halfway between his lips.

  “When you tell Bethany to be quiet, do you sometimes wish you could say that to me also?”

  His expression went blank. “No, ma’am.”

  “Yes, he does, Mommy, because he told me so,” Bethany chimed in.

  CJ sucked his teeth and rolled his eyes at his sister. “See, I told you she talks too much. Why don’t you shut—” he glanced at his mother. “I mean, be quiet.” He frowned hard, bringing his brows together.

  “Bethany, sweetheart, go watch TV in the den. I want to talk to CJ alone.”

  “But I haven’t finished eating my pizza.”

  “Take your pizza with you, but don’t make a mess.”

  She stuck out her tongue at CJ, then lifted her plate and left.

  “Aw, why does she get to watch TV with her pizza?” CJ complained.

  Don’t worry about her for now. I want to know what’s going on with you.”

  “Nothing’s going on with me. Nothing.”

  “Now, CJ, that’s not completely true. I got a call from your teacher today. She wants to talk with me about you tomorrow. And after talking with Ms. Washington yesterday, I think there must be something serious going on with you.”

  “Nothing’s the matter, Mom, I promise.”

  “Then why are two people telling me the same thing about you?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe they don’t like me.”

  “Why would they not like you, CJ? You’re a lovable little boy.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Is it your daddy and me?”

  “No,” he answered almost immediately.

  Katharine knew better. She took in a light breath and released it gently. “CJ, your dad has been under a lot of pressure, and sometimes it makes him angry and he’ll say things he doesn’t mean. But it has nothing to do with you or your sister. He loves you both more than anything.”

  CJ squirmed in his chair, picking at the toppings on his pizza. “Can I take my pizza in the den and watch TV with Bethany?”