Collecting Smiles

by Melody Burris

  Chapter Eleven

  The next morning, I looked around my old room wondering how it had managed to get messy so quickly. My suitcase was on the floor next to my bed, its contents scattered about. To be fair, the mess wasn’t entirely mine nor was the room anymore. Mom’s sewing projects took up the majority of the space leaving me with just a mattress and box spring sitting on the floor and a small table with a lamp next to the bed. I was curious so I lifted the quilted tablecloth and was not at all surprised to find the table was stacked food storage.

  There was something so comforting in knowing that even though my room was no longer mine, I could still predict my mom enough to know a silly little detail like there being food storage masquerading as a bedside table.

  Since my suitcase was disheveled anyway, I took the opportunity to dig out the presents for everyone that I’d brought home with me. Still in my pajamas, I carried them out to the tree. Kelly was right there with me as soon as she saw presents.

  “Which one is mine?”

  “The one with the teddy bear wrapping.”

  “Oh, can I see? Am I going to like it? Can I shake it?”

  “Here, have at it. I’m going to take a shower.” I tossed the small gift into her lap and she gave me the first smile of the new week. I kissed the top of her head as I left.

  By evening time, I’d relaxed a little. Much of my day had been me worrying about being alone with either of my parents. My emotions were still so jumbled and I didn’t want to have to explain or worry them with tears. It helped that Mom was going to be teaching in Relief Society, so her mind was elsewhere.

  I sat in between the Drew and Kelly during Sacrament Meeting. Each of them scooted in so close that I almost didn’t have room to move my arms. I remembered how my brothers and I had taken turns with Kelly in the hall when she was little. There were days we’d fought over who got to take her out. Now we were all sitting, practically grown up. I could feel the call for a more chaotic but simpler time. Back then, I had never worried if I was enough; had never felt so out of touch with my dreams.

  Dinner was simple, simple and a little tasteless. I was doing the cooking. No one complained as they ate the homemade chicken soup, but no one asked for seconds either. I was reminded of how delicious Andy’s soup had been. These thoughts were not helpful or wanted. Moping would just be wasting the valuable time I had with my family. I pasted on a smile and distracted myself by doing the dishes.

  When dinner was all cleaned up, we drove to the Mesa, Arizona temple. The lights display was always one of my favorite parts of Christmas. Live music filled the air, as did the scent of the oranges that hung in the trees along the path. We were to meet George and Lindsey at the front of the visitors’ center. I was anxious to see George and get a hug from my big brother.

  They were there, just as we’d planned, but not quite, as I’d pictured. Together they were bundled up in their heavy jackets against the balmy Arizona night. Their heads leaning together as they talked in whispers. They were so close, it was hard to tell where George stopped and Lindsey began. So much for the open arms of my big brother.

  I watched the two of them as we wondered around the grounds. They never let go of each other. It was as if super glue had been applied to their arms and hands. The more I watched, the harder it became to be around them. This was something I would never have. My failed relationship with Andy had finally driven home to me just what I had lost all those years ago.

  I felt myself getting grumpy and I looked up at the stars trying to keep my eyes from overflowing. When the family went to view a film in the visitors’ center, I made an excuse and escaped. I was making my way past the nativity, when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

  “What’s wrong, Snapper?” I knew instantly who it was without even looking. Dad had given me that nickname when I was very small because he said I swam like a fish. It had taken him days before he’d settled on which fish name he was going to use. We had gone through flounder, grouper, and marlin. The name had stuck for a few years, but it had been ages since he’d used it.

  I didn’t answer right away. I just stared at the shepherd in the nearly life size scene. He had a lamb across his shoulders and he looked so peaceful. I missed feeling that calm and happy.

  Dad didn’t let me off. “Come on, talk to me. I know something is going on with you.”

  This was so not the place I wanted to be having this conversation nor was it a conversation I was ready to have. Instead, I posed a question. “Dad, what do you think that shepherd is thinking?”

  “Well, I’ve never really thought about it before. Let’s see…” He studied the figure for a moment. “I think he’s feeling joy and contentment. Don’t you think the Savior would radiate those types of feelings, even as a baby?”

  “I guess.”

  “What do you think he is feeling?”

  “Restful, like some big burden has been lifted.”

  “That works too. The Savior can carry our burdens for us.”

  “But how?”

  “Because of the atonement.”

  “Yes, but how do we give him our burdens?”

  “That can be tricky. Sincere prayer and pleading is probably the biggest part of it, but we also have to let go. It took me years to figure out how to give some things to Him. I liked being in control and doing it all myself.”

  A new musical number began behind us and I turned my attention away from the shepherd. What Dad said hadn’t been very helpful. Was that because I was like him and insisted on doing things myself? That just made one more thing about me that wasn’t right. Life was getting worse by the day, how would I make it to the New Year?

  We ended the night with Mom’s famous candy bar cake. It was so rich that most of us couldn’t eat more than half a piece. I say most because it was George’s favorite. He ate the rest of Lindsey’s piece and asked for seconds. We sat around the tree and sang carols while Drew played piano for us. Matt built a fire in the fireplace that would probably last all night. Kelly fell asleep with her head in my lap. I loved the warmth of all the family together.

  I basked in the fuzzy warm memory without paying too much attention to any one thing. The more details I noticed the more my brain worked and my brain was not my best friend at the moment. This strategy worked for most of the night, until George and Lindsey got up to go home. They were so sickeningly cute about helping each other on with their coats. It wasn’t even cold outside. I couldn’t stand the way George checked Lindsey’s zipper to make sure she wouldn’t catch cold. I said a quick goodnight to them and walked Kelly to her bed.

  The inevitable conversation with Mom came, it just took a little longer than I’d expected. New Year’s Eve morning while I was helping with the breakfast dishes, she said, “I’m disappointed that you chose not to go the Waters’ party. They are really missing Spencer and having you there would mean so much to them.”

  “I know. I’m just not really in a party mood.”

  “What is going on with you? You haven’t been your usual perky self.”

  “Just thinking, I guess.” She didn’t buy it. The look of disbelief on her face was almost funny. I choked back a laugh.

  “Megan, you can talk to me about anything. You know that, right? Are you feeling okay? Do you need to see a doctor?” She paused to place a wet hand on my forehead.

  “Mom, I’m not sick.”

  “Is it Andy?”

  I sighed. I may as well come clean. “Sort of, but not really. I mean it was at the start, but I can’t help thinking, you know?”

  Now she looked puzzled. She grabbed the towel from my hands and led me to her bedroom at the back of the long hallway. I’d had many talks with Mom lying across her bed. The familiar surroundings and the fact that we wouldn’t be overheard or interrupted untied my tongue.

  “I liked Andy. Things were going pretty well. Things were getting serious enough, at least, that I realized he needed to know about my surgery.” I paused as a small oh, formed on Mom
’s lips.

  “Didn’t go so well?”

  “Well, he was nice about it, then he got all weird. After a few days, I couldn’t take it anymore so we talked. And well you know the rest.”

  “Oh, honey. I am so sorry. But you can’t get discouraged. He just wasn’t the right one. You’ll get someone better. Just be patient.”

  I know that she was trying to comfort me, but the words seemed trite and completely unhelpful. “Don’t you see Mom? It doesn’t matter. Anyone I love enough to marry, I would love enough not to doom them to my burden. It’s over, there is no happy ending. The weird thing is that I never saw it coming. In all these years, I have never worried about the whole kid thing. In that one small conversation, it feels like my world crashed down around me. I don’t know how to go on. Motherhood is not for me and I realize now neither is marriage.” I sobbed into the bedspread.

  “Wait, Megan. Slow down. You are getting carried away. There are all kinds of options for you. Surely, there are lots of wonderful guys out there who would love you and make a wonderful life with you regardless. You need to give people a chance. And there is adoption, remember. You can have everything you want. Just give it time and put it in the Lord’s hands.”

  I smiled at her for reassurance, but I knew she was wrong. Some people just weren’t meant to ‘have it all’. I didn’t know how to describe what I felt when I pictured that green eyed boy. No one should have to give that up for me. I cried harder and she let me cry for a long time without saying anything. It felt hopeless like nothing would ever be okay again. I managed to stop… eventually.

  Tired and feeling guilty that I couldn’t give Mom the happy ending that she wanted for me, I stood. “Mom, I’m going to go caught a nap. Maybe I will stop by the Waters’ tonight for a little while.” It was a small consolation, but it cheered Mom. She sent me on my way, telling me she would keep Kelly out of my room for a couple of hours.

  When I woke, everyone was gone. I walked through the empty house looking around all the rooms full of memories. I felt strange. When I looked in the family room, I remembered the rough housing with George that had turned bloody. We were wrestling when I fell over the back of the couch and split my chin on the floor. I reached up to feel the faint scar. Why was I feeling so homesick? Being with my family had been nice, but school was calling to me. Which home was real? It didn’t really feel like I belonged anywhere anymore.

  My family put me on the plane the next day with the usual hugs and goodbye wishes. Then Dad leaned in and whispered, “I’ll be calling to check in on you next week.” I sighed. Dad apparently was going to be keep regular tabs on me. Mom must have filled him in on our little talk. I hugged him again and wanted so much to give him reassurances, but they would be empty. Instead, I nodded my head and said goodbye.

  That first week back at school was hard. When I got Spencer’s smile total for the week, I realized that I had failed to collect any. This was my first time in years of doing this that I had to write zero in my journal. I didn’t really care as much as I expected myself to. Smiles were just not the highest priority at the moment.

  The trouble was, that I couldn’t really figure out what the priority was. My homesickness wasn’t eased by being back at school. Was there anything that would sooth my troubled heart? I truly felt lost and unable to find my way. The impulses that I have always had to ease any feelings of sadness seemed useless against all the doubt in my life.

  Living in close quarters with other people, when you are struggling just to stay afloat, has some real problems. Jackie was the worst because we shared a room. She was my audience for every sniffle and every sigh. She tried several times to talk to me about Andy because, as she put it, talking it out would help me deal with it. She didn’t know what was really bothering me and I wasn’t ready for the pity, so I didn’t tell her. My initial reaction was to tell her to back off, but I managed to keep my words civil if still icy.

  Kristen also seemed concerned by my glum mood, but she was so busy with life that, thankfully, her attempts were only halfhearted. Melissa tried to talk to me almost as much as Jackie, but I was able to turn the conversation easy enough and then escape. Over the next few weeks, avoiding people became a way of life.

  I spent as much time alone as I could. Ducking Jackie’s and Melissa’s attempts to talk consumed much of my time. I began ‘studying’ at the library because Jackie couldn’t find me there. My books sat on the table unopened. Mostly, I was just getting really good at solitaire on my laptop. I could see my life stretching out long and lonely in front of me.

  School was not as much of a distraction from my pain, as I would have hoped. I just couldn’t get into the swing of this new semester. Not even biology, a favorite subject from high school, could rouse my attention. I didn’t understand this. It should have made sense that school would be more important. It was all I had now. Everything seemed dull and colorless. Perhaps, it was just the grey winter weather.

  Church had gone from uncomfortable to nearly unbearable. At first, the whispers and avoiding Andy had taken so much of my attention. Now, everywhere I turned there was no place for me. I began to wonder where I fit in a church that believed so strongly in families. I was only going to church now because everyone else was. If I stopped, it would be very obvious and I didn’t need any more attention. It seemed logical that Heavenly Father had turned away from me. My life was in ruins.

  Maybe I should go home, but what would that solve? Then I would be even more of a loser. I couldn’t become more of a burden to my family.

  Dad’s calls were harder to ignore than my roommates. When I didn’t answer, he texted me. Seriously, Dad never texted, so I knew I couldn’t keep putting him off.

  “Hi Dad,”

  “How are things going, Megan?”

  “About the same. How are you guys? Did Kelly have another recital yet?”

  “We can talk about Kelly some other time. I want to hear about you.”

  “Really Dad, I don’t know what to tell you. School’s going okay and work is work. In fact, I need to head off to class now. Love you, bye.”

  I didn’t want to hurt him, but I didn’t want to talk to anyone. Nothing that anyone said could make it better so I just wanted to not talk about it and forget.

  My Dad and roommates weren’t the only one’s checking up on me. Christy, one of my visiting teachers, called or came by at least once a week to see how things were going. I tried to be polite and cheerful when she did, but it was hard to put the brave face on for too long. It was nice that she was trying, but the last thing I needed was a visiting teacher digging for my secrets and then spreading them around the ward.

  My uncharitable thoughts about her disappeared one day when she stopped me, as I was walking into my apartment. I invited her in, hoping that the place would be full of roommates she could talk to instead of me. To my dismay, we were all alone.

  “Megan, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

  “I’m okay, you don’t need to worry.”

  “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. I understand. I just want to tell you that I know Heavenly Father loves you.”

  “That’s a nice thought. Thanks,” I said, forcing a smile.

  “Megan, I’m not telling you this because we have learned it in church since we were sunbeams.” She paused trying to find the words that she wanted to say, “I know He loves you because he keeps reminding me that He loves you.”

  I looked up quickly at her and then back down in my lap, trying to avoid the tears in her eyes. “Thanks, Christy,” I said quietly. “But I’m not getting the same message right now.” How could she know that I was completely unlovable?

  “Then you aren’t listening to the right messenger.” She stood and excused herself before I could argue. Tears were forming in my eyes, but she couldn’t be right. I had the evidence concealed right here in my damaged body. I sat at the table and opened my biology book. I would not dwell on this. It was too painful.


  “Mark asked about you again,” Kristen said when she got home from class. I was avoiding everyone at the moment, but especially my friends from D41. It was just too hard to fake enthusiasm and a smile. Mark was still trying to be my friend. I had no idea why. Surely, he knew the truth, if anyone did. I was not very friendly just now, but then Mark was just good like that. Maybe I reminded him of old Mr. Wallace; all prickles, but with a hidden soft spot. He’d have to dig pretty deep to find that soft spot now.

  Thinking of Mr. Wallace, reminded me that I had made myself a promise. Unlovable I may be, but I didn’t have to be useless. I could keep a promise, even to myself. Tomorrow, I would visit Mr. Wallace. Not that my visit would mean much to him, but promises are promises.

  The next afternoon, I walked down into town from campus. It was mid-February and my bike was covered in snow. It was too icy for biking anyway. The sidewalks were pretty clear and there was no wind so the walk was pleasant enough. I reached the hospital, hoping that my unannounced visit would be okay. I wasn’t sure what the procedures were. It took me a minute to wipe all the snow off my feet before I went to the reception counter.

  “I would like to see Mr. Wallace please.”

  There was a slight hesitation by the woman behind the desk who was dressed in a business jacket. “Are you family?”

  “No, I’m kind of a friend. I just wanted to say hi.” It sounded lame coming out, but I had no other excuse.

  “Okay, you can go on back to his room. Do you know the way?”

  “Yes.Thank you.”

  I followed the hall around to the dining room. I could remember the path from there. I knocked on the open door and stepped inside. “Mr. Wallace?”

  He was sitting on the edge of his bed completely dressed down to his shoes again. His hair, or what was left of it, was neatly combed. He was looking out the window again. This time, I could see that it was to an inner courtyard where some birds were playing. “What?” He looked up, “Who are you?”

  I searched for what to say. “I’m Mark’s friend, Megan. We met not too long ago.”

  “Marky’s friend? Oh, okay. What do you want?’

  “I thought I would come and visit for a while.”

  “Well, it’s still a free country. Sit down if you want.” His head gestured to the chair and then his eyes went back to the window.

  I sat and then looked out the window too. “I’m surprised that there are still birds here. It is pretty cold outside.”

  “Really, I wouldn’t know.” He said sourly. His face was always drawn down in a twisted frown and I knew enough now not to take it personally.

  “I guess it gets kind of boring in here. Do you get many visitors?”

  Despite its seeming impossibility, his frown deepened. “So, what? You came here to depress me kid? Thanks, but I’ve got all I can use. Why don’t you go?”

  I sat a moment longer trying to retrieve the situation. Seeing a black and white picture on the wall, I commented, “Is that your wife?” The picture was of a tall man and a small woman with curly, dark hair. They were arm in arm and smiling. It was strange to see this young Mr. Wallace smiling.

  “Yep.”

  “She’s pretty.”

  “She’s dead and I don’t need chit chat or pity. Weren’t you leaving?”

  I gave up and left the room feeling like a failure. Well, at least I had tried. But could one grump cheer another?

  “Megan?” a voice called, as I walked slowly down the hallway.

  I turned to see Mark. I had forgotten that it was his day to work. Great, I wasn’t in the mood for chit chat either, at least not with someone who knew me. “Oh, hi,” I said with little enthusiasm.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to visit Mr. Wallace. It was a bad idea. I think I made him upset.”

  “Mr. Wallace? Well, I’ll check on him, but he’s always that way. Don’t worry.” He searched my face. “It was nice of you to come. He never gets visitors.”

  I can see why, I thought, but said “No, problem.”

  “I would give you a ride home, but I have to work for another two hours. Will you be okay?”

  “It’s nice out today. I don’t mind the walk.” I waved before he could get any closer and left.

  I replayed the conversation with Mr. Wallace in my head the whole way home looking for any way that it could have turned out better. There was just no way of knowing if different topics would have helped. I hardly knew the man. Then I corrected the thought, I didn’t know the man. At that moment, a thought occurred to me. I might not know him, but I could understand him. Wasn’t I doing the same thing to everyone in my life? Laughing, I thought about how much I had in common with that prickly, old man. My future was staring me in the face and it was lonely.

  The thought should have frightened me, but instead I felt a strange triumph. This was part of the reason for my pain and I was justified in feeling it. Pushing everyone away was a normal reaction. I wasn’t broken, in that, at least. My mind circled around the possibilities for a future without the complications of relationships. In time, might I rid myself of all of them and not have to feel the pain of others’ pity and worry?

  I remembered the sight of Mr. Wallace crying and Mark next to him holding his hand. Marky, he called him. Even Mr. Wallace had a friend. I thought of the picture of Mr. Wallace smiling with his arms around his wife. It felt like a betrayal in a way, he’d had a family and I never would.

  Pain seared new in my chest. Tears filled my eyes and I hurt all over. Just putting one foot in front of the other, I walked through the streets heading in the general direction of my apartment. I felt more alone than ever. Before I’d gotten too far the wind began to blow. It seemed to blow right through me as if I wasn’t there.

  I cried myself to sleep that night, but quietly so as I could so that I wouldn’t wake up Jackie. In the morning, my head hurt. Lying in bed for a time, I tried to find the will to get up. The light of the sun shone in the window and landed on my face. Blinking, I realized that I had overslept. I was late to work. I jumped up, wincing at the pain in my head, dressed, and ran out the door. My daily tasks were the only things I could still do. Those tasks were all that I had managed to keep in this shattered life of mine. Now in my despair, I had ruined even that.

  I sighed, half running to work through the ice and snow. Despair was a useless emotion. I seemed to get nowhere dwelling on my pain. Life just kept getting worse and worse. I was done with it; done with the sideways looks from my roommates, done with the whispered conversations that stopped when I entered the room, done with being useless, just done with all the pain.

  Okay, so I wasn’t going to get everything I wanted. It was time to focus on what I did have or I would lose everything. It was time to go on. I pushed all the hurt feelings down deep where I could keep them in check. Today, I would move on with whatever part of my life was left.

  Work and school would be my focus now. That is how I would go on. It is all I had. Busing myself to get all the things at work done despite my hour late start, I had a few moments peace in my head. I was always a good worker and now I would be even better. School could use a lot more attention too. If I just crowded the pain out, maybe I would find the joy of school again. I was going to delete solitaire from my computer and never hide again. No more mindless distractions for me. I was simply going to change focus. We were part way through the winter semester and I was halfheartedly working on my class assignments. It wouldn’t be hard at all to do better.

  Plans were fine, but actions were another story. I went through the day tentatively as if I had sore muscles; testing each step to determine if it hurt more. It was strange how noisy everything seemed, as if I hadn’t heard all the confusion around me for a month and a half. Had it only been that long? It seemed so much longer. I certainly felt older.

  As I was getting home that afternoon, I saw Christy again. I returned her wave and tried to add a smile. “God loves me,” she’d said. I knew t
hat at one time he did. Maybe eventually, I could work my way back to his favor.