Lily’s eyes darted quickly toward Kate’s, then looked away.
That got her attention. They sat in silence and Kate reminded herself that this, too, was a powerful counseling tool. Be comfortable with the silence, Kate. If you wait long enough, Lily might speak.
Last year in remedial English Lily wrote a story about what it meant to be an American. Yolanda, one of their best teachers, was so impressed that she brought it down for Kate to read. Although it was rather pessimistic, it was incredibly articulate without one spelling error. Lily wrote about how everyone said America was this great land of opportunity but it was hard to believe when someone had been telling you from day one that you were a mistake. So, really, she said, success in America was about believing in yourself. And some people were somehow lucky enough to believe. Yolanda gave her an A. That was the last paper Lily wrote for her. But Kate knew then that Lily didn’t belong in remedial English.
Now Lily was still failing English, among other things, but Kate decided not to mention her grades. If only Lily would trust her, then she might be able to influence her academic decisions. Until then, Lily would only resist.
Kate watched the second hand go around the clock on the wall behind Lily. Ten seconds went by. Then twenty. Thirty. She waited one minute. It was amazing how long it seemed.
Lily dropped her fingernail tip onto the floor. Then she started tearing at another one.
OK. That was enough.
“You had better get back to P.E.” Kate said, realizing Lily would probably rather sit there in silence than listen to the teacher clapping her hands and yelling, “Let’s see some hustle!”
After Lily left the office, Kate let out a sigh. She wondered if Lily would loan her the novel when she finished it. If so, that would be a major breakthrough.
Eventually she looked out her door and noticed Ricardo busy chatting in Spanish with Antonio at the reception desk. Her anger ignited. She wondered how long he had been there—missing even more class. Antonio should’ve sent him in to Kate instead of socializing.
Kate stood up and poked her head out to get Ricardo’s attention. He said some kind of closing in Spanish to Antonio and followed Kate into her office.
“Am I in trouble?” the student asked, sounding concerned.
He’s scared to be called to my office? How amusing. I’ve never intimidated anyone. “No. This is the counselor’s office. You’re in trouble when you get called to the principal’s office upstairs.”
He studied the college posters tacked on the walls and pointed to the Yale one. “I would like to go there. I’ve heard it’s a good school.”
She was surprised, yet pleased at his ambition. Foxworth had only sent one student to an Ivy League school in the past five years. “Well, you have to make very good grades to get in.”
His gaze fell.
“Looking at your transcript, I feel confident that you could go to college if you wanted to.”
He looked at her and his lips curved upward.
“I’m not sure about Yale, but somewhere good. Something’s changed with you lately, though. Mrs. Roma tells me you are a hard worker, but you haven’t been going to her class.”
Again he looked down, as if he were ashamed.
She turned to her computer and pulled up his attendance record. She noticed a pattern. “Are you and your friends going out to lunch?” She tried to make eye contact, but Ricardo looked at the floor. FHS’s diversity training taught her that in the Latino culture it was a sign of respect when students didn’t look you in the eye. Kate found it hard to read students, though, when she couldn’t see their eyes.
“Come on, Ricardo. Where are you going? Burger King? Pizza Hut?”
No response. He twisted the silver ring on his right hand.
How could this be the same student who only moments ago was babbling on and on with Antonio about something?
“All I know, Ricardo, is that you’re throwing it all away. You are going to end up failing if you keep skipping class,” Kate said. She sat there in silence for a short while, once again hoping the student across from her would let her in.
Finally she wrote the time on his pass and initialed it. “If you want to talk, Ricardo, feel free to stop by any time.” She handed him the pass dismissively.
He left, saying something short to Antonio as he passed by.
Kate reviewed their conversation, trying to figure out what she should’ve said differently. She worried that since she was sleep-deprived, her patience was lacking. Eventually she decided to go back to filing. She heard Antonio say, “Excuse me,” with his Spanish accent. Glancing up, she saw him standing in her doorframe, as if he didn’t quite want to enter.
“Yes?” she asked.
He hesitated and then walked in. “There’s something you should know.” He pulled a picture out of his wallet and handed it to Kate.
She looked at a baby with a broad, flat face and eyes that tilted upward. Telltale signs of Down’s syndrome.
“He’s my cousin. Ricardo’s little brother.”
Kate became sidetracked, trying to calculate how old Ricardo’s mom must be. She met her once and she looked so young. If she had Ricardo when she was twenty then she would be. . .thirty-five. Kate’s age.
“That’s why Ricardo’s always gone during fourth period.” He paused. “He goes home to fix lunch for his mother and the baby.”
“Why?”
“His mother is pregnant again and keeps going into early labor even though she’s not due for a few more weeks. The doctor ordered her to stay in bed.”
The woman already had one child with Down’s. Kate wondered if Ricardo’s new sibling would have it, too.
Looking at Antonio, she regained her focus. “Isn’t there anyone else who could check on her during the day? What about Ricardo’s dad? What about your parents?”
“Everyone in the family works in the factory. They only get thirty minutes for lunch. It isn’t enough time to drive there and back.”
Maybe they could let Ricardo drop his fourth hour class so he could go home every day. But that was English, a required course. She hated for him to get behind. It would be better than getting an F, though.
Unfortunately, Mr. Mohr wouldn’t want to let him drop it. “Flexibility” was not in his West Point dictionary. Her best bet was to go directly to Yolanda.
“Thanks, Antonio. I will see what I can do to help Ricardo.”
“Good.” He walked out.
That afternoon Kate’s mind shifted from work stress to personal stress as she walked through the parking lot. Why wouldn’t Joely answer her phone? How could Kate smooth things over when her sister refused to speak to her? She and her sister hadn’t spoken since Kate had left for the airport five days ago.
When she arrived at her Miata, she didn’t feel her keys inside her purse. After a moment of fruitless searching, she decided it was time to get serious about the hunt by pulling everything out of her bag. She placed her “Just Peachy” and “Precious Pink” lipsticks on the blue hood and they immediately started to roll downward. She grabbed them and shoved them in her coat pocket. She pulled out her wallet, mini hairbrush, nail file and a tin of Altoids. Her eyes desperately scanned the bottom of her purse.
They weren’t there. Where could they be? Did they fall out of her purse somewhere in the parking lot? She would’ve heard them hit the pavement, wouldn’t she? She tossed everything back in her bag and re-traced her steps all the way back to her office.
“Is something wrong?” Antonio asked from his desk.
“I can’t find my keys.”
He offered to help her look. They searched her office then returned to her car, where she pulled on the handle just to make sure the door was locked. It was. They looked inside. The keys weren’t in the ignition. “There they are,” he said, pointing to the shiny pieces of metal next to the parking brake lever.
“Shit!” Kate exclaimed. Antonio’s eyebrows rose in surprise. She didn’t care. She pounded th
e roof with her fist, slow and steady, emphasizing her words. “How could I be so stupid?” She squeezed her eyes shut to hold off tears.
A few seconds later, she saw Antonio’s forehead wrinkled with concern. “It’ll be OK, Kate. Does Mitch have an extra set?”
“Yes,” she managed to answer, turning her back and leaning against the car door. A few stray snowflakes started to waft from the sky. Great. Snow.
“Let’s go call Mitch then.”
For a moment she hesitated, rubbing her cold, red hands together. Then she followed Antonio inside. Returning to her office just reminded her of the day’s frustrations. She saw the stack of papers she had forgotten to fill out and sighed.
She knew she should be glad the Ricardo mystery was solved, but she couldn’t help feeling diminished by the fact that the guidance secretary could get students to open up better than she could.
Was this really what she was meant to do?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Kate sat on the living room couch stuffing Oreos into her mouth. She shoved one in after another without even tasting them. I’m a failure. I’m a horrible counselor and an even worse sister.
As if sensing her pain, her cat Monte jumped into her lap. He pushed on her thighs with his front paws as if he were flattening a pillow. Then he walked in a circle and pushed some more. “Lie down already,” Kate snapped. Monte looked at her, blinked, then conceded.
She picked up the phone, but didn’t dial. She knew it would sting when her sister once again didn’t answer. She listened to Monte purr and remembered the day she and Mitch went to the animal shelter.
The two of them weren’t even looking for a kitten. They had both agreed they wanted an older cat—one with an established personality. They wanted to know what they were getting.
After looking around a bit, Kate had spotted him. The black and white kitten had been huddled in the corner of his cage looking so forlorn that Kate couldn’t stop herself from picking him up. She had felt his ribs as she’d placed him in her lap. His tiny body had softly vibrated.
Mitch had pointed out that the Siamese cat he’d been petting was more attractive in every way compared to the little runt. But Monte looked up at Kate as if to say, “Pick me. You won’t be sorry.”
After a long debate, Mitch finally agreed they could take a chance on a kitten, on the condition that he got to name him. “Let’s call him Monte Carlo.”
Kate looked up while she kept stroking the kitten’s back. “What? I was thinking more along the lines of Cuddles or Boots.”
Mitch shook his head. “This is more original. At work I use a Monte Carlo Analysis to deal with real world situations involving elements of uncertainty. What has a bigger element of uncertainty than a kitten?”
In the end, he was right. Some days Monte slept all day at the foot of their bed and on other days Kate would come home to discover he had shredded the upholstery on their couch. Mitch suggested getting the cat de-clawed, but she couldn’t bring herself to put him through an unnecessary operation.
She ran her palm across Monte’s back in a long, gentle motion. If only she could be as sure about having a baby as she was about picking him.
The phone rang and Kate jumped. Monte hopped down. Seeing Joely’s name on the caller ID, Kate spoke first. “I was just about to call you. Where are you?”
“Just hanging out in San Diego. It’s eighty degrees and sunny every single day.”
“You didn’t go to Yosemite?”
“No. I didn’t want to go by myself. Besides, there’s plenty to do here. There’s the beach and the zoo and some great restaurants.”
Kate realized that her sister had never gone on a vacation by herself. Even though Joely hadn’t ventured beyond San Diego, Kate felt proud of her. Maybe Joely’s days of waiting were over. “I hated to leave you there, but it sounds like you’re having fun. Are you still angry with me?”
“You know I can’t stay mad at you, sis. It would be great if you were here, but I’m having a good time. I suppose one of us has to act like a grown-up and go to work every day. I’m just glad it’s not me.” Joely laughed.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t stay. I wish I had.”
“No, Kate. I shouldn’t have asked you to.”
Hearing these words, Kate let her shoulders relax. Silently she vowed to never fight with Joely again. They chatted some more until a yawn overtook her.
“Am I boring you?” Joely asked.
“No. I’m just tired.”
“I hear pregnancy can make you tired.”
“I just didn’t sleep well last night.” Kate clenched her teeth.
“Maybe you should see a fertility specialist. Unless. . .”
“What?”
“Unless you’re not trying.”
Kate let silence be her answer.
Joely continued, “Is it because of Mitch?”
“I’m still working on him.” Kate didn’t say it, but it wasn’t just Mitch. Something else kept holding her back.
# # #
Long after Kate had covered the meatloaf and placed it in the fridge, she heard Mitch’s key in the door. Monte, who was back in Kate’s lap, looked up as Mitch walked in.
Mitch’s keys clinked as he dropped them on the table. “Aren’t you two sweet?”
Kate smiled. Sometimes she wished she could bring Monte to work with her. When students came to her, stressed out about a decision, petting Monte would help them relax and gain perspective. Just as he had for her.
As Mitch grabbed a handful of peanuts out of the pantry, Kate said, “I think we should talk.”
“Uh-oh. Sounds serious.” He tossed the nuts in his mouth, searching the pantry shelves for something else.
Kate thought of the empty Oreo package in the trash and hoped that wasn’t what he was looking for. “How do you feel about having a kid?” Good job, Kate. An open-ended question.
“I don’t want to fight again.” He opened the fridge, reached past the meatloaf, pulled out a bottle of beer and sat down on the other couch. He picked up the remote control and turned on the TV.
“No, I don’t either. Would you please turn that off?”
The screen went blank.
“It’s just that I’ve been giving it a lot of thought. I started wondering if you’d been thinking about it, too.”
“Do we really have to get into this again? It’s been a long day.”
Kate sighed because she had to get this off her chest. “I know things are shaky at work for you right now, but I’m starting to feel like if we ever want to have a family, it’s now or never.”
“Because of Joely,” he said.
“And because I’m not getting any younger.” She thought about the picture of Ricardo’s little brother. “I’m thirty-five. On top of everything else, every year we wait, my chances of having a Down’s syndrome baby go up.”
He didn’t respond.
Kate rubbed Monte’s coat a little faster. The day’s frustrations came back to her. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t even make a difference. I mean, I only see my students for a few minutes and I’m trying to make-up for what’s missing in their home life. At least if I had my own kid I would have a bigger impact on one life than I do on the 218 I’m responsible for now.”
He took a drink. “Sounds like you just had a bad day at work.”
“Definitely. I had the opportunity to actually do what I was trained to do, instead of filling out some statistical analysis for the state, and I sucked at it.”
“You’re too hard on yourself.” He walked back to the pantry and scanned the shelves again.
Was that all it was? A bad day at work? Or was it more than that? Kate looked at the mantel clock’s swinging pendulum. She walked near Mitch and leaned against the kitchen island. “I guess I’m thinking maybe we should have a baby.” Her stomach flip-flopped. “I’m wondering if you. . . .because if you really don’t want one . . . .he or she deserves an involved dad.”
He slammed the
pantry doors shut. “That’s it.” He marched past her and up the stairs.
She followed him into their bedroom and watched as he pulled a duffle bag from his closet. He jerked open the top drawer on his bureau and started grabbing socks and underwear and shoving them in the bag’s open zipper.
Kate watched him with awe. “What are you doing?”
“I’ve tried to be patient because your sister is sick.” He tossed T-shirts and jeans into the bag. “But I can’t take this. I’m obviously not the man you want to be married to any more.”
She grabbed his forearm. “Yes, you are.”
He shook her hand away. “No, I’m not. All you talk about these days is having a baby.” He went to his closet and carried out dress shirts and pants still on their hangers. “You can’t just change the rules in the middle of the game.”
God, it looked like he was packing for a month-long trip. “Mitch, please don’t be like this. I just wanted. . . .” She wasn’t sure what she wanted.
He carried his bag and work clothes past her. The smell of perspiration mixed with Polo cologne. Her heart pounded. She heard him hurry down the stairs as if he couldn’t get away from her fast enough.
In ten years of marriage, their fights had never escalated to this level. She stumbled on the stairs and almost fell, catching herself with the handrail. She raced to catch up to Mitch. “Where are you going?”
He didn’t look at her as he swung open the door to the garage. “Does it matter?”
Kate flinched when his Mustang’s door slammed. She watched him speed away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Sobs consumed her. Kate sat on a kitchen stool, her head in her hands. She replayed the scene in her head. I’m obviously not the man you want to be married to anymore. God. What had she done?
Still crying, she dialed Mitch’s cell phone. He didn’t answer. She tried again. And again. Where was he? This was some kind of misunderstanding. If they could just talk. . . .
The house echoed with emptiness. She felt lost. Alone.
Eventually she stopped bawling enough to call her best friend. “Trish?” She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Could you come over?”
A Sister's Promise (Promises) Page 16