by Jack Weyland
“Too bad Meredith wasn’t able to come home last night. She’s in a string quartet and had a performance in Provo. When I talked to her mother yesterday, she said Meredith will probably be home in two weeks. It would be wonderful if you two could get together again. She’s such a marvelous girl.”
“I’ll be busy that weekend.”
His mother raised her eyebrows. “Really? Doing what?”
“I don’t know . . . maybe spending time with Emily.”
“Emily?”
“You know, Jeremy’s sister.”
“Oh? She seems so young for you.”
“She’s the same age as Meredith.”
“She doesn’t seem that old.” There was a long pause. “Turn your head to the left, please. I’m not surprised you’re spending time with her. You feel sorry for her.”
“It’s not that. We’re friends. We get along real well. For one thing, we talk about things and help each other out.”
“Does she ever talk about the extent of her injuries from the fire?”
“Not much.”
“I don’t blame her. I wouldn’t either. Poor thing. I feel so sorry for her. Can you look down, please? Thank you.”
Austin waited for the other shoe to drop.
“I understand the damage to her stomach and chest was extensive. I’m not sure she’ll even be able to nurse her babies. Poor girl.”
Austin jumped up. “Why are you telling me this?” He yanked the towel off his shoulders, threw it on the stool, and walked out.
He hurried to his room and began packing.
His mother appeared in his doorway. “What are you doing?”
“I’m leaving,” he muttered.
“You can’t leave now.”
“Why not?”
“Meredith is driving all the way up from Provo just to have lunch with you.”
He grabbed some socks from a drawer then slammed it shut. “You asked her—you have lunch with her.”
“I really don’t appreciate your attitude. If I offended you by what I said, I apologize. I’m not against Emily. Not at all. I think she’s a wonderful girl. I just think you ought to understand how badly she was hurt in the fire and that she is going to require medical attention for years to come.”
“Why did you tell me about the damage to her chest? Did you think I’d lose interest in her because of that? Do you have that low of an opinion of me? Sometimes I just don’t understand you, Mother. I really have to get out of here now before you poison my mind any more.”
“You can leave now if you want, even though I’m sure Meredith would like to see you at least for a few minutes. But if you insist on going, at least let me finish cutting your hair. You look ridiculous with only half a haircut.”
Though he was still steaming, Austin decided his mother was right. It didn’t make sense to leave before she finished cutting his hair.
He resented her control over him. He’d experienced the same feeling his whole life. When he was growing up, he’d had no interest in becoming an Eagle Scout, but his mother just kept coming at him with little projects that would only take a few minutes, and before long, he’d done enough to earn the rank. He used to think, They should have given the badge to my mom. She’s the one who earned it.
Taking his place back on the stool, he asked, “Are you afraid your precious Meredith might see me this way?”
“I don’t know why you’re so against me all of a sudden. All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy.”
“Yes, but it’s always happiness according to your terms, isn’t it?”
She gave him one of her I’m so misunderstood sighs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“How come you never wrote and told me about Emily being badly injured?”
“I’m sure I did.”
“You didn’t. If it hadn’t been for Jeremy writing me, I’d have never known about it.”
“I didn’t want to distract you from your work.”
“You had plenty to say about Meredith, though, didn’t you?”
“I’m only trying to look out for your best interests.”
While finishing his haircut, his mother brought up the subject of Emily again. “I apologize for saying what I did. I’m sure it sounded quite heartless. Ordinarily it’s not something I would have ever said to you, but I thought you should at least know how much damage was done. It was quite extensive. And the operations just keep coming. Oh, in time, I’m sure she’ll be fine, but when you consider the cost, the hospital time, the recuperation after each operation, it’s all quite overwhelming. And who knows how much longer her insurance will continue to pay those costs? These are practical matters one has to consider. Can you move your head to the right?”
During the haircut, Austin did as he was told, moving his head up or down, or from side to side, to give his mother the best light—so she could make of him what she wanted.
The haircut seemed to take longer than usual. And by the time she finished, it was eleven-fifteen.
“Meredith will be here in a few minutes. If you could just say hello to her before you go, it would mean so much to her.”
Austin had nothing against Meredith. She was a nice enough girl. “I’ll only stay for a few minutes and then I’ll go.”
“You will stay for lunch though, won’t you?”
It seemed ridiculous to go without lunch. “All right, I’ll stay for lunch.”
“That’s my good boy,” his mother said. He hated when she talked to him like that. It set his teeth on edge, to be called her “good boy,” but he said nothing.
He decided that if he was going to spend time with Meredith, it couldn’t be in the same room with his mother. And so when she showed up, he asked if she’d like to play Ping-Pong downstairs in the family room.
“You won’t pout if you lose, will you?” Meredith teased.
Austin was still struggling to control his resentment of his mother. “I never lose,” he growled.
“Really? Let’s see what you got then, Kid.”
Sometime during the first game, he looked across the table at Meredith and thought, She’s always been the chosen one, the best-looking girl in her school and the smartest and most talented. What would it be like to grow up like that?
She had dark brown hair and dark eyebrows and eyelashes that enhanced her green eyes, which he had to admit were fascinating. He could see why she’d done so well in the Miss Utah Pageant, and he wondered what the girl looked like who’d beat her out. And yet she seemed unaware of her beauty, or at least she didn’t flaunt it.
He played a civilized game and let her get ahead of him. Then, just before losing, he unleashed his specialty, a wicked spin on the ball that made it take a sideways bounce when it hit the table.
“Oh, my gosh! Where’d that come from?” she asked.
“Just lucky, I guess.”
She laughed. “You’ve been toying with me, haven’t you?”
He couldn’t help but smile. “Something like that.”
“Well, I guess it’s time I got out my monster serve, but first help me find the ball.”
By the time he joined her, she was on her knees, peering under the couch, looking for the ball. There were three soft pillows on the couch. It was too good an opportunity to pass up. He grabbed a pillow and threw it at her. It hit her on her shoulder and bounced off.
She turned to him with a big smile. “You know what? I think this is war.” She grabbed the pillow and tossed it back at him.
They went from pillow fighting inside the house to chasing each other around the yard with glasses of water.
She tossed some water in his direction, and when he tried to take the glass away from her, she turned and ran through a door into the back of the garage.
He followed her into the garage and closed the door. “There’s no way out of here except through me.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “No problem.”
They stood there, both trying to catch
their breath from all their running.
This is so much fun, he thought. Chasing and being chased. And I don’t have to worry about hurting her like I would with Emily.
“How about a truce?” he asked.
“For real, or is this just another one of your cheap tricks?”
“For real.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“Let’s go back and look for the Ping-Pong ball.”
A few minutes later they were both sitting cross-legged on the floor, about five feet apart, lobbing a pillow back and forth to each other.
“Can I ask you a question?” he said.
“Sure.”
“Why did you come here today?”
“For lunch.”
“You drove up here from Provo just for lunch?”
“I drove up last night after the concert.”
“Oh.”
She laughed. “Don’t worry. It’s not just because of you. I needed to get my mom to do my laundry.”
He gave a sigh of relief. “Good. Me too.”
“Although, I must say, my mom is very enthusiastic about you,” Meredith said.
“So it doesn’t bother your mom that I’m a serial killer?”
She laughed. “Hey, nobody’s perfect.”
Just then, his mother called out from the top of the stairs. “Can you two pry yourselves away for lunch?”
Even though it was just sandwiches and tomato soup, having his mother preside over the meal created a certain formality and, for Austin, constant tension.
His mother was doing her best to impress Meredith about him. After reading Meredith the letter President Merrill had sent just prior to his release, she said, “We think Austin is going places in the Church.”
Austin cringed. He hated it when people talked as if the Church were a business and that the goal was to go from one leadership position to another until finally becoming a General Authority.
“I’m sure he is,” Meredith said.
Austin could not let his mother’s statement stand uncorrected. “Yes, someday I hope to be a really good home teacher, or maybe, if I work hard at it, someone who ‘mourns with those that mourn, and gives comfort to those that stand in need of comfort.’”
“Mosiah, chapter 18,” Meredith said.
He was impressed that she knew.
“It’s hard enough to try to be a disciple of Christ without worrying about things that don’t really matter,” he said.
“I agree,” Meredith said.
I wish you didn’t, he thought. It would make it so much easier not to like you. And it would be so much easier to like you if it weren’t for my mother trying to force us together.
When they were finished eating, his mother reminded them that the new Disney movie had just opened. “Have either of you seen it?” she asked.
“I’m usually too busy for that,” Meredith said.
His mother looked at Austin, who did the right thing. “You want to go now?” he asked Meredith.
“Sure, that’d be great. Just let me phone home and tell my mom.”
While Meredith was on the phone, Austin’s mother said, “She’s very thoughtful of her parents. That’s so nice to see.”
The movie theater was a madhouse. By the time Austin and Meredith entered the theater, it was dark and full of kids. They found two seats on the second row from the front, right up against the wall.
In order to watch the movie, they had to lean their heads back and look almost straight up. The picture on the screen was distorted from that angle, and the floor beneath their feet was sticky from someone’s spilled drink.
They were showing previews from upcoming movies, mostly action-adventure, where nothing was said, but one explosion after another lit up the screen and assaulted their ears.
Austin felt moisture seeping into the seat of his pants. He felt with his hand and discovered that someone had previously spilled their drink on his seat.
“We’ll have to move,” he said, cupping his mouth with his hand and speaking directly into Meredith’s ear.
“What?”
“We have to move. Somebody spilled their drink on my seat, and now it’s all wet.”
She turned around and looked at the packed theater. “Where can we go?”
“I’ll go talk to someone,” he said.
He worked his way out of their row into the aisle and went into the lobby. Everyone who worked there was at the snack bar, trying to service the long line of kids waiting to get something to eat. He tried to get a girl’s attention. “Excuse me, my seat is wet.”
She either didn’t hear him or didn’t care. “I’m sorry. You’ll have to get in line.”
It wasn’t actually a line. It was more a mob of little people trying to be served, and as new ones came they wriggled their way ahead of Austin.
Austin felt as though he were living a nightmare. His head began to throb from the noise. He looked outside. It seemed so inviting. And so he walked out to his car. Feeling the wetness on his pants, he took the blanket out of his trunk and spread it on the seat before getting in.
He felt a deep sense of loss, that life after his mission was going to be the same as before he left, that all the lessons he had learned would leave him, and that his life would stand for nothing, that he’d spend his life in meaningless activities.
I’ll marry Meredith because that’s what my mother wants me to do, and I’ll go to law school because that’s what my father wants me to do, and I’ll spend the rest of my life marking time, having children I’m not close to, going off to work or to meetings, and the one thing that I’ve found to be worthwhile will be lost in the shuffle, and my life will end up like spending time in a packed theater showing movies that have no meaning. What is the point of any of this?
I promised myself I’d always be a disciple of Jesus Christ, but I’m not sure I’m strong enough to sort through all the things that don’t matter in order to concentrate on what does.
What am I going to do? At least Emily is still my friend. She’s a good example. She’s been through so much. She can take whatever comes her way.
I’ve never seen where she was burned. What will I do if it’s so bad that when she doesn’t have to wear the pressure garment anymore I won’t even be able to look at her?
I need to face the fact that when Meredith and I were having a water fight and I was chasing her with a glass of water, I was physically attracted to her. If I spend much more time with her, I’m sure I’ll end up kissing her. She’s so much fun. So what would be so wrong with being married to her?
Am I going to end up with a trophy wife like Meredith? It’s what my mother wants. And I always do what my mother wants.
I need to talk to someone, someone I trust. Not my mother. I know what she’d tell me. Not my dad. He has in mind for me to run for governor of Utah someday. And he himself has a trophy wife. So what good will it do to ask him? I know what he’ll say: “All things being equal, marry the girl who can help you get ahead.” That’s just the problem. I don’t know what it means to get ahead.
There’s only one person I really trust. And that’s Emily.
If I marry Meredith, what will happen if we hit hard times? I’m not sure she could take it. Would she fold if one of our kids had serious medical problems? Or if she got sick herself? Or if I lost my job? Or if one of our kids got on drugs? Maybe she’s the storybook princess who can only get by if she gets to live happily ever after.
He looked at his watch. He couldn’t stay there. He had a responsibility to Meredith.
He returned to the lobby. It was empty, except for the girls at the counter.
“Your ticket?” a girl working there asked.
“I got a ticket twenty minutes ago, but my seat was wet.”
“But you just walked in.”
“I know. I tried to get somebody’s attention, but there were too many kids at the snack bar.”
“Where’s your ticket stub?”
Austin searched
his pockets. “I guess I threw it away.”
“So you just want me to take your word for it, is that it?”
“I can prove that what I’m saying is true.”
“How?”
“My date is in there waiting for me. She’ll vouch for me.”
“You left your date there all this time?” the girl asked.
“Yes.”
“Where’d you go?”
“To my car. I had some things I had to work out.”
“What kinds of things?”
“Things in my head.”
“Things in your head? What are you, some kind of a psycho? Sir, tell me the truth—did you just imagine you paid for a ticket?”
He turned around and pointed to the seat of his pants. “Look, you can see where my seat was wet.”
“I don’t see anything.”
He touched the back of his pants. “It feels wet.”
She panicked, thinking he was about to suggest she touch the seat of his pants to prove it was wet. She backed away. “Mr. Hoffman,” she called out, “can you come over here, please?”
The manager approached them. “Is something wrong?”
“This guy walks in here saying he bought a ticket but left because the seat he was sitting on was wet.”
“If the seat was wet, you should have told us right away.”
“He says he had some mental things he had to work on, so he went out to his car.”
“Sir, if you left the theater without telling anyone, then you’ll have to pay to get back in, unless you have your ticket stub.”
“Look, I can prove that what I’m saying is true. If we go to where I was sitting, you can feel the seat, and then you’ll know that I’m telling the truth.”
“The movie’s showing now. I don’t want to cause any kind of disturbance for my customers.”
“What about me?” Austin complained. “Aren’t I a customer?”
“You would be if you bought a ticket,” the girl shot back.
He knew that no matter how much he complained, they weren’t going to budge. So he paid for another ticket, and then, thinking he needed an excuse to give Meredith about why he had been gone so long, he bought a huge box of popcorn with extra butter and two drinks. He also asked for two empty popcorn boxes he could lay on the seat to keep himself from getting more wet.