When the letter came in early March, I steeled myself before opening it.
“It is a man’s own mind, not his enemy or foe, that lures him to evil ways.”
Carly had punched me from one side, Nathan from the opposite side. The letter delivered the knock-out blow. I finished up the school year and then gave my formal notice that I wouldn’t be returning in the fall.
Once I quit school, it was only a matter of time before I quit Nathan. The two were inextricably linked in my mind. Nathan couldn’t be with a girl who had no goals, no future, no way to occupy her time beyond working in a coffee shop and waiting for him to come home. Besides, Nathan wasn’t the type of guy who would idly stand by and watch his girlfriend self-destruct. I knew all that, so I kept my plans a secret. I didn’t think Nathan would fight for me, for our relationship, so it didn’t seem duplicitous to squirrel away my pennies until I had a large enough fund to make my move. When it finally did come, I was right. Nathan didn’t fight for me.
One night, sprawled on the sofa in front of the TV on a rare break from school or work, I knew it would be a while before I had another opportunity to say what I needed to say without any distractions.
“I’m not going back to school,” I said during a commercial break. “I’m finishing up the semester. I let them know already.”
Nathan didn’t look at me. Maybe he was ready for this. He didn’t seem surprised. Maybe he’d been waiting.
“What’re you going to do?”
“I’m going away. I’m going to take some time and just travel. Think about my life.”
Even I recognized this lie. I did nothing but think about my life already. This trip was a way for me not to think about my life.
Nathan looked at me with wounded eyes. “What about us?”
I took a deep breath. “Don’t wait for me,” I said.
“Well, I can’t force you to love me. So I’m obviously not going to stand in your way.” It’s what I wanted to hear, wasn’t it? “But I can tell you one thing,” he went on, and I knew that one thing was never really just one thing. “You’re making a big fucking mistake.”
He had his parting shot.
I’d carry those words around with me for the next five months. And, once again, I was right. Those six words were so much more than just one thing.
In the weeks leading up to my confession to Nathan, I took care of mundane issues that had to be settled before I could move on. Mending the stray corners of my life before carrying out my plan. I needed a big-girl passport since I no longer traveled with my parents. I needed a suitcase. I needed to decide which of my meager possessions would come with me and which I would donate or toss. I needed a few books to read along the way. And I needed to say goodbye to Luke.
The day before I went to see Luke, I got a call from Alice, who had gotten my number from Maggie’s mom.
“It’s really good to hear your voice,” I said and meant it. She sounded self-assured. Almost grown up. This was the night I would break the news to Nathan, and hearing Alice on the other end of the phone gave me a surge of confidence.
“I’ve wanted to talk to you,” she said. “I think about you a lot. How are you liking college?”
“I’m quitting.” I lowered my voice as if the apartment itself could hear my words and relay my message to Nathan before I had a chance to tell him.
There was silence on the other end, and I strained to hear her breathing or perhaps a deep sigh of frustration, but all I heard was a scraping sound as if she was moving a chair in order to sit down.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said finally. “I got into Wheaton College in Illinois, and I’m pretty excited about it.”
It was hard for me to remember being excited about a major life change. Coming to college hadn’t been an exciting time for me. Mom and Dad were leaving soon after, and I hadn’t felt ready. Like being thrown into a pool before you knew how to swim.
“Illinois . . . that’s such a long way from your family. I’ll bet they’re going to miss you.”
“They’re happy for me.” She hesitated. “Grace, I just wanted to see how your father’s doing. I heard he was sick, and I just wanted to say how sorry I am. If there’s anything I can do . . .”
It took me a few seconds to slow my thoughts down to a halt and then start them back up again. My dad was sick long ago. But he’d gotten better. I received regular letters from Mom and Dad—once a week, they came like clockwork. Luke got them too. Nothing out of the ordinary. A description of daily life as Luke and I had known it throughout our childhood. I wrote back, although probably only one for every two or three of theirs. I painted an entirely dishonest picture of my life. Yes, I occasionally mentioned Nathan, but only as a friend, and never was there any mention of our living together. Nor did I mention Nathan’s Jewish faith. I was working hard. School was fulfilling. Life was wonderful.
“I think my dad’s doing pretty well,” I said. “Nothing like when you knew him. He’s much better.”
“Oh,” Alice said, clearly caught off guard. Her manner went from mature to childlike in seconds. She began speaking at double speed. “I’m—I’m . . . gosh, I’m really embarrassed. Sorry. But that’s not why I called. I just wanted to say hi and see how you’re doing because it’s been so long.”
“It has,” I agreed. “What else is new with you? How’s everyone in Indian Springs?”
“You know how it is here,” she said. Having had a minute to compose herself, she went back to sounding like the new Alice. “Nothing much changes. I’m glad to be done with high school. It’s already getting hot here. I think about you every time I drive by your old house. How’s Luke?”
“You mean Officer Templeton?” I laughed, trying to inject some levity into the awkward turn our conversation had taken. “His wife is pregnant again, if you can believe it. I’m about to be an aunt for the second time. But they’re still in Sacramento, and I don’t get over there too often. How’s Reverend Palmer these days? Grumpy as ever?” I asked the last question on a hunch.
“He retired,” Alice said. “We just got a new pastor, and he’s young and really cool. Actually, he just returned from Madagascar. He knows your parents.”
I felt a sudden queasiness as though someone had been peeking in my bedroom window. Watching me without my knowledge. Knowing things about me that I didn’t even know.
“Do you still go to church, Grace?” she asked when that didn’t elicit a response from me.
“Nah, I haven’t been too good about that,” I said, not mentioning I hadn’t been for years. How could I tell her about the last time I went? How my beliefs had evolved, making us creatures who may as well have been from separate worlds? I still knew how to speak her language, but she would never know how to speak mine.
“You should go back. You really should,” she said. “Life can be crazy, and it’s always a place you can come to for strength. A place that never changes.”
I knew she worried about my everlasting soul, but I couldn’t even see my way through my limited time on Earth. I couldn’t tell her about the moment that I had decided I was done with the church. Or, rather, when it was done with me.
“I wish you wouldn’t do this.” Luke sighed. “Most people who drop out of college never go back.”
“I will,” I said. “When I’m ready.”
He leaned forward in his chair, arms resting on his thighs. He lowered his gaze for a second and then looked up, instantly connecting our eyes in a disarmingly frank way. I wondered if this was a tactic he learned from being a cop. Lowering the defenses of the interrogee before catching them off guard when the real questions were about to begin. Luke wasn’t a chatty person, but when he spoke, he gave the impression of using carefully selected words. Because of this, people always listened to him. They instinctively knew that whatever came out of his mouth was something of value—or at least
came from the best part of him.
“Mom and Dad shouldn’t have left when you were so young,” he said. “You weren’t ready to be on your own.”
And even though I had thought the same thing myself many times over the past few years, it hurt to hear Luke say it. Luke was the pillar that held up our family. If he said it, it must be true and not just me making everything about me. I didn’t want my parents to be devalued in my eyes. They were good, loving, compassionate people. I didn’t want to think of them as flawed parents.
“I’ve managed just fine.”
“Have you?” He split his forefinger and thumb to run down the angle of his jaw. “I happen to think they also made a mistake skipping you up a grade at Indian Springs. You’re smart, no doubt, but you weren’t ready then either.”
“Probably not.”
“You know, Grace. You can move in with us and have a new start in life. Go to Sac State. Linda would love it. No rent, maybe just help out around the house a little when the baby’s born. I’d love it, and I think it’d be good for you. We’ll help you get back up on your feet.”
Luke was only four years older than me, but he already felt like a father.
“I can’t Luke, really. This is something I have to do.” Bob lay in my lap, purring noisily. I scratched behind his tufted ears. He’d grown into an enormous animal.
“Nathan seemed like a good guy. Seemed like he really cared for you.”
How could I even begin to explain everything that had happened between Nathan and me?
“He is really a good guy. Probably deserves better than me.”
“Don’t say that, Grace.” Luke’s eyes radiated pain. “You know that hurts me to hear you say that. You deserve every good thing that comes your way and a lot more.” He shook his head slowly as though he couldn’t believe a person could have such a low opinion of herself. Especially a person related to him, who had probably never experienced a moment of self-doubt in his entire life.
“Thanks.”
“Will you at least give me an itinerary? Some way I can reach you if I need to? Will you promise to write and let us know where you are and what you’re up to?”
“Already thought of that.” I carefully lifted Bob from my lap, straining my biceps to maneuver his dense weight to the space beside me. He looked at me indignantly before dropping to the floor where he landed with a thud. He sauntered over to Luke’s chair where he curled up at his master’s feet and glowered at me. I rustled through my purse, coming up with a folded sheet of paper. “Here’s every place I’m going to visit and, wherever possible, the contact info for the closest youth hostel.”
Luke leaned back in his chair and unfolded the paper. His eyes scanned the front of the page, and then he flipped it to look at the back. “Jesus Christ, Grace! Turkey? Have you never seen Midnight Express?”
“If Mom and Dad could hear your language,” I teased. “Blasphemer.”
His eyes crinkled with good humor, but it seemed to catch him off guard. Perhaps he still battled with the remnants of his beliefs in the same way I did. Struggled to make sense of what was out there if we didn’t have the doctrine to explain it in a way we could hold onto. But I didn’t think so. I think Luke always knew that he could reach deep and find the answers in himself. Not like me.
“Yeah, sorry about that. I haven’t—I guess you can say I’ve strayed.”
“Me too. And I was just kidding.”
His dad voice returned.
“But Turkey, really? I don’t like to think of you over there by yourself.”
“It’s fine. I’ll be fine. And, yes, for your information, I have seen Midnight Express and I’m not planning on smuggling any drugs. Not going to happen.”
“Or using,” Luke said.
“Or using.”
Linda walked in the room, still in a nightgown, her hair in a high ponytail, her face fresh and natural. Tired looked good on Linda.
“He’s down for his nap,” she whispered although the baby’s room was upstairs. “And I still haven’t gotten out of my pajamas. We must be crazy having another one so soon.” She stood by Luke’s side, resting a hand on his shoulder before he pulled her onto his lap.
“Take a load off, woman,” he mugged. He brought her face to his and kissed her playfully on the lips. I felt a sweet burst of joyfulness followed by the sour taste of envy. No way I could ever live in a house filled with this much love. “Did you hear that your crazy sister-in-law’s going to Turkey?” he said.
“What? No, Grace. You need to watch Midnight Express.”
Luke always had a natural instinct to protect those around him. I imagined Linda’s same instinct had blossomed after giving birth.
“Yeah, Luke and I have just been through all that. My trip’s going to be nothing like Midnight Express. It will be more like Ten in the Morning Express. Anyway, what your husband failed to mention is that I’m also going to England, France, Spain, Italy, Germany, and Holland.”
“You forgot Portugal and Switzerland,” Luke said.
It always surprised me, and always warmed me, to realize how closely Luke paid attention when we were together. His interest was genuine. People loved him for that very reason.
“Good one. Portugal and Switzerland, almost forgot.”
“How much money do you have?” he asked. “How long can you make it over there?”
“If I calculated right, I have enough to barely get me through six months if I’m frugal.”
“And then what?” Linda cocked her head in that charming, inquisitive way she had, like a puppy.
“And then I get a job over there somewhere.”
“You have to get a work visa for that,” Luke said. “I don’t know how easy that’ll be.”
“I’ve been reading up on it. They say a lot of small businesses will hire you off the books and pay you under the table.”
I knew a barista was one of those universal jobs you could probably find even in China. So I at least had training in something that made real-world sense, although the actual training wasn’t all that demanding. I was also old enough to be a bartender in many European countries where the drinking age was eighteen. Another skill I could pick up quickly. I was good at small talk with strangers. In fact, that’s what I was best at when it came to talking and sharing. I knew Spanish and English, so I could probably pick up any of the romance languages fairly easily. Or look for work in England or Spain.
“Hmm. I don’t like the sound of that,” Linda said. Luke ran his hand up and down her bare arm.
“Just make sure you save enough to pay for a return ticket home,” he said. “And if you don’t have enough for whatever reason, you just get ahold of me or Linda, and we’ll wire you the money to come home. Right, Babe?”
“That’s right,” Linda said. “Anytime. We mean it. So, what do your parents think about this? And what about that cutie, Nathan? Did you guys break up?” She set her lips in a pout.
The Nathan part was still too painful and too complicated so I left it unanswered. “I haven’t told our parents yet, but I’m writing them tonight.”
“Ouch!” Luke said. “They’re not going to be happy.”
“They’ll get used to it. Hey, Luke? Dad’s okay, right?”
His eyebrows reached for each other over narrowing eyes. “Yeah, why?”
“Alice called last night. Remember her? Anyway, she said something about Dad being sick, and I wouldn’t have thought anything of it except the new pastor at Indian Springs just left Mom and Dad. He was in Madagascar with them.”
He kept the firm set of his jaw, but I thought I detected a boyish fear in his eyes.
“They seem fine in their letters. Never heard any complaints or anything about Dad being sick.” He sounded as if he was trying to reassure himself.
“Me neither. I’ll ask tonight when I write, ok
ay?”
I hated to bring sad news into this house so unharmed by negativity—where life was being created instead of stagnating or ending. I hated to leave Luke. Linda. Even Bob seemed to hold my eyes with his own as if begging me to stay.
Chapter Eight
Indian Springs
The first day of my junior year of high school.
I couldn’t help but contrast my first day six months earlier. Luke was no longer there, having already begun college classes. Somehow that diminished Indian Springs High in my mind. Luke leaving home had expanded my world, holding out a destination which lay ahead but which, for the time being, was out of my reach. He was my trailblazer.
But balancing that was my newfound poise. This school finally felt like it belonged to me instead of the reverse. I wasn’t a visitor anymore, an eccentric from another world. My hair had grown out a bit and was styled, thanks to the assistance of the Kitty Committee. My clothes were no longer embarrassing. My makeup was subtle, but noticeable. Even though I didn’t need one, I wore a bra. I was taller. Thinner. I had the confidence of making an entrance with the most amazing person I knew, Carly Sullivan. Her mother had stopped to pick me up along the way. Maggie and Jane waited for us in the parking lot.
“Okay, Kitty Committee, are we ready to rock our junior year?” Carly looked extra confident with an emerald-green top and matching drop earrings that shimmered under the still-hot sun of late August.
We linked our right pinky fingers and then threw those hands up in the air. It was something Maggie had thought up, and Jane giggled at the silliness but went along. There was nothing between us except the promise of a year of fun. Why these girls, each one magnificent in her own way, had decided to include me was still a wonder I grappled with every day as though pinching myself upon awakening from a dream. Why Maggie and Carly only had each other before Jane and I came along was something I never stopped to consider. They were girls with high standards, head and shoulders above all others at Indian Springs High.
The Kitty Committee Page 11