Child of Mine

by Beverly Lewis

  Laura wiped at her perspiring face, and Jack took a few steps backward, thumping up against the doorframe. It was a reasonably sized laundry room, with shelves above the washer and dryer, and tile covering the floor, but no window, and for some reason it suddenly seemed miniscule. By the look in her eyes, Laura surely felt it, as well.

  She cleared her throat again. “Well, I haven’t completely decided. I’m afraid if my cousin Pete saw me leave his Haus without my prayer veiling, he might just pop his suspenders, ya know.” She laughed, and Jack joined her, still finding the whole thing rather odd, considering how serious she had seemed after their talk.

  Laura bit her lip, suddenly looking tentative. “I’d have to change into my fancy clothes here, ya know. And then dress Plain again before I leave for home.”

  Jack nodded politely, as if he understood the ins and outs of an Amishwoman’s being modern for a day.

  Laura leaned forward, bumping the ironing board, and the iron swayed. Quickly, Jack moved to settle the board, and Laura grabbed for the iron. In the process she practically fell into his arms.

  “That was close,” Jack whispered, gently assisting her as she recovered her balance.

  “Jah,” Laura said, exhaling nervously, brushing at her clothing.

  “By the way,” she said, “have ya told Nattie yet? About tonight?”

  He shook his head, sighing. There seemed to be a never-ending list of things to “break” to Nattie.

  Laura offered a faint smile. “The sooner the better, Jack.”

  Of course. He agreed, and after another uncomfortable moment, Laura shrugged, gesturing toward her ironing. He nodded, backing out of the small space, still mulling the implications of Laura’s idea to dress modern—fancy, as she’d put it.

  He was, however, convinced she had changed her mind about what she’d really wanted to tell him Wednesday night. But why?

  Jack headed upstairs to change out of his damp clothes and into old jeans and a T-shirt. Next, he trudged back to the garage and decided to organize his tools yet again, if only to unwind. The encounter in the laundry room had left him rattled.

  After a while, Nattie joined him and sat on the top step, both palms under her chin, fingers on her cheeks. It was the classic bored-kid posture. Only for Nattie, it was her thinking pose. She mentioned her bike-blinging plans, declaring she wanted her ride to look as cool as Craig’s new dirt bike.

  “I should paint my bike pink,” Nattie announced. “What do you think?”

  “Could be ambitious,” Jack counseled, positioning two of his best hammers on the pegboard.

  She nodded, working her mouth. “Maybe just wax it instead?”

  Jack reordered his crescent wrenches according to size and motioned for Nattie to help him hang the screwdrivers.

  They worked together and finished the chore. “Perfect,” Nattie said and ran inside.

  Having missed yet another opportunity to come clean with his dinner plans, Jack hurried inside to wash up. He found Nattie sitting at the kitchen counter watching Laura stand on tiptoes as she sorted through the cabinet for ingredients.

  Laura turned to look at him and sighed. “I’ve misjudged, I daresay. I wasn’t prepared for tonight. We need tomato sauce.”

  “How ’bout the three of us go out for supper instead!” Nattie announced.

  Laura closed the cabinet and gave Jack an eyeful, as if to say, “How long are you going to wait?”

  “Write a short grocery list,” Jack suggested, tactfully ignoring Nattie’s suggestion. Laura agreed, dictating a list of ingredients while Nattie put pen to paper with trademark fanfare.

  Recruiting Nattie for grocery duty, Jack drove to the store, still deep in thought over the very important talk he needed to have with Nattie.

  They made their way up and down the grocery aisles, following Laura’s list and gathering enough to feed an Italian army.

  “So we’re having pah-sgettie tonight,” Nattie said, giggling and taking off with the cart up the aisle.

  When Jack met her on the next aisle, he was encouraged by her jubilant mood. Wasn’t now as good a time as any? Besides, they were in a public place; how bad could it be?

  “By the way,” he said, “Miss Jones is coming for dinner tonight.”

  Nattie stopped in her tracks. “Say what?”

  Jack repeated it, and Nattie became unhinged, logically concluding that a dinner with the school counselor had something to do with her. While Jack assured her to the contrary, Nattie remained unconvinced. “Then why is she coming?”

  “Because I want to get to know her better, honey.” He paused, feeling breathless. “Karen seems nice.”

  Nattie made a face that looked like “Are you kidding?”

  “Also, you’ll be with Laura at the mall, having fun at the food court,” he told her, thinking it would enhance the deal.

  “Hold on. I’m not having spaghetti with you guys?” Nattie’s face darkened. “I should be at the mall with Miss Jones, and you should be having dinner with Laura.”

  Before he could respond, Nattie stomped away, pushing the cart recklessly. Jack groaned, caught up with her, and together they finished their circuitous route around the store. When the list was complete, he noticed a dozen cans of soup in the cart.

  He pointed to them. “Nattie—”

  “The church pantry—remember?”

  Oh yeah, he thought, recalling last Sunday’s announcements.

  During the drive home, Nattie seemed overly fascinated with finding just the right station on the radio, turning the dial with exceptional focus.

  “It’s just a date,” he assured her.

  Nattie snorted disapprovingly and folded her arms.

  Wanting to finish the conversation and hoping to forestall a thunderstorm, Jack pulled into a nearby parking lot and stopped in front of a paint store. Sunlight glistened off the windshields of the cars facing them in the next row. The place was hopping, typical for a Saturday.

  He inhaled slowly. “Okay. I should have talked to you earlier, Nattie. Instead of springing it on you.”

  She looked at him, eyes blinking. “By the way, Dad, what will happen to Laura if you marry Karen?”

  Skipping over the if you marry Karen part, Jack replied, “Nothing would change, sweetie. Laura stays.”

  “Things always change,” Nattie whined. “Karen won’t like Laura. Nobody does. Nobody understands her like me. I’m the only one who has her back.”

  “Honey—”

  “Why can’t you just marry her?”

  Jack pulled back if only to get some distance from Nattie’s steely-eyed gaze. A car pulling in behind them tapped its tinny horn. “We’ve already had this discussion, Nattie.”

  “I didn’t like how it turned out.”

  “Laura and I are friends . . . just friends,” Jack said. “You have to love someone before you marry them.”

  Turning toward the window, Nattie shook her head. “It’s not like Laura hasn’t ever dated before, you know. She’s had practice.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  “She had a boyfriend once,” Nattie muttered. “That’s why Laura got shunned.”

  Jack was taken aback. He’d never heard this part of the story, the real reason, any reason for that matter, behind Laura’s shunning. “I doubt she was shunned just because she had a boyfriend.”

  Nattie nodded sharply, as if to say, “Yeah huh,” until her expression wilted, her face turning carrot red, her natural response to shame. “But I shouldn’t have told you. It’s private stuff.”

  “I won’t tell anyone,” Jack said.

  “You can’t.”

  “Listen, Nattie, I’ve decided to start dating. I’m not sure anything will come of it, but I’m going to trust God and see where He leads.”

  Nattie flinched. “You’re gonna date other girls after Miss Jones?”

  “Possibly.”

  Nattie looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Let me get this straight. You are
going to go out on dates? You’ve never even been on a date . . . like ever!”

  Jack frowned. “Put your seat belt on,” he said. “We need to get back.”

  With exaggerated slow motion, Nattie smoothed her shorts, wiggled into a comfortable position, adjusted her T-shirt, wiped her hair out of her eyes, then finally clicked her seat belt into place.

  Backing out, Jack glanced at Nattie, who grimaced. “I really can’t believe you’re telling me like . . . two minutes before Miss Jones arrives.”

  Frustrated, Jack said nothing.

  “Why not just marry Laura?” Nattie repeated, pursing her lips and going silent for the duration of their trip home.

  That went well, he thought grimly.

  Chapter 14

  From his office, Jack could hear the hum of the oven fan as Laura worked that afternoon to prepare the evening meal for the so-called date with Karen Jones. He’d passed through the kitchen earlier and noticed various chopped ingredients for a salad, which Laura had organized on the cutting board, and the rich scent of bubbling tomato sauce filled the air. It was then he remembered hearing San say something about spaghetti’s not being recommended for a first date and wondered if they shouldn’t have grilled steaks or salmon outside. But it was too late to rethink this. Besides, he felt fairly confident he could manage not to wear his dinner.

  Back in his office, Jack was busy plowing through the aircraft rental figures for the month when he heard a soft padding of feet.

  Suddenly, clammy arms encircled his neck, and Nattie’s silky hair brushed against his neck. “I’m sorry I’m such a girl and a kid all rolled into one,” she said. “You still love me, Dad?”

  Jack grasped her hands, seeing the repentant look in her eyes. “I happen to love you best as a girl and a kid,” he said, turning in his chair.

  Nattie sniffed meekly. “So . . . we good?”

  He wrapped his arms around her. “We’re always good, kiddo. Always.”

  “And . . . you won’t get married without telling me?”

  Jack looked into her eyes. Nattie wrinkled her nose suddenly and then sneezed, not once, not twice, but three times, covering her entire face with her little hands. She made a sorry face. “Did I get you?”

  Jack pulled a tissue from one of the ever-present tissue boxes Laura kept around the house and Nattie wiped her nose.

  He braced her shoulders again. “Okay. Where were we before that explosion?”

  They both laughed.

  “Listen, Nattie. I won’t marry anyone unless we talk about it first, okay?”

  “Deal.”

  They shook on it, and Jack ignored the icky-moist splotch that migrated from Nattie’s thumb to his palm. Raising kids is not for the faint of heart, he thought, grinning.

  Seemingly satisfied, Nattie tossed her tissue in the wastebasket and ran off to help Laura in the kitchen. Jack emerged from his sanctuary and began vacuuming the family room.

  Later, he and Laura set the table, and the phone rang just as they were finishing. Nattie got the phone upstairs and called for him, “It’s Auntie San Fran!”

  My dating coach, Jack thought with a smile.

  Jack got on, but the line had an echo. He turned, glancing toward the upstairs. Nattie was peeking around her door. She hadn’t hung up yet.

  “Nattie . . .”

  She pulled a face. “How else am I going to learn stuff!”

  As soon as she hung up, San laughed. “I haven’t even left yet, and you’re already losing control over there.” She asked how Nattie had taken the news, and he paused. “She’s okay with the dating if that’s what you mean.”

  San began firing questions: “Have you scoured the bathrooms?”

  Yes.

  “What’re you planning to wear?” she asked.

  “Well, my tan cargos and a Winnie the Pooh T-shirt.”

  “Very funny,” she replied.

  When he told her the truth—a pair of broken-in jeans and a sweatshirt—San hit the roof. So he agreed to change into nicer pants and a golf shirt. They discussed further details, proper etiquette for supper, suitable conversation topics, and appropriate behavior until Jack’s head began to hurt.

  He hung up as quickly as possible and shooed away Nattie, who’d been hanging around, undoubtedly trying to decipher his side of the conversation. She scampered off to change her own attire while Laura continued to monitor the spaghetti sauce.

  “Why don’t you and Nattie return home before too long?” Jack suggested. “I’d like Nattie to spend a little time with Karen, if that’s all right.”

  There was a whimsical glint in Laura’s expression, and they settled on seven-thirty for their return from the mall, an hour after Karen’s anticipated arrival.

  Jack wandered into the dining room, seeing the candles, unlit but poised for greatness, the table set, the house “redded up,” as Laura would say, and all systems go.

  ———

  Laura hurried Nattie to the door just as Karen pulled into the driveway, fifteen minutes early.

  “What now?” Nattie asked, clearly amused.

  “Just act normal,” Jack said.

  “What’s that?” Nattie muttered, grinning.

  Removing her dark sunglasses, Karen came to the door wearing a long soft pink skirt and a sleeveless white blouse. Jack decided immediately that Karen Jones would have easily passed San’s muster.

  Three sets of eyes met Karen’s. Laura and Nattie welcomed her, then tried to slip past as Laura explained sweetly, “We were just headin’ out.”

  Karen frowned, clearly disappointed. “Isn’t Nattie staying for supper?”

  “Oh, she’ll be back later,” Jack said, thinking Karen’s response rather strange, considering he’d made this clear earlier.

  “Are you sure she can’t stay?” Karen asked, glancing back and forth between Jack and Nattie.

  Nattie took it from there. “Yeah, I want spaghetti, too. I never get spaghetti.” She smiled brightly at Karen, flashing her perfect teeth. “You look pretty tonight, Miss Jones.”

  “Well, aren’t you sweet,” Karen replied.

  Jack found his manners and introduced Nattie’s Amish nanny, and Laura flinched a little when Karen offered to shake her hand.

  Then, with an amused sparkle in her eyes, Laura gestured toward her car. “Well, yous have a gut time, all right? I’ll be back tomorrow, then.”

  Nattie escorted Karen into the great room, and Jack said good-bye to Laura, apologizing for the mix-up. Really awkward, he thought. But Laura took it in stride, giving him a few last-minute tips on the spaghetti dinner. Then she gave him a wave good-bye and walked down toward her car.

  Standing on the steps, Jack heard the door unlock as she pointed the remote key at the car. Laura turned back again. “Did I forget something?”

  Jack shook his head, almost wishing she had.

  “You’ll be fine tonight . . . with your date,” she said quietly.

  He nodded. “Thanks. You’re very kind.”

  Back inside, he and Nattie gave Karen the five-minute tour. The aroma of spaghetti and meatballs wafted throughout the downstairs as Nattie showed off her tower of DVDs, meticulously ordered according to her favorites, in the great room. Shortly thereafter, Jack opened his office to show Karen his aviation wall.

  Eventually, they settled into the dining room, with Jack at the head of the table. Karen and Nattie sat on either side of him, across from each other. After the blessing, the meal progressed as planned. Jack recalled Laura’s particular instructions for serving the food, and happy conversation proceeded.

  Nattie held court and Jack steered the discussion along noncontroversial lines. But then halfway through the meal, Karen noticed Nattie hadn’t eaten any green beans.

  Earlier in the day, Laura had suggested green beans to Jack, since “Not everyone likes corn or peas, but most folks like cut green beans with plenty of butter.”

  Except Nattie, Jack had thought at the time.

  Presentl
y, however, Karen Jones was leaning forward on her side of the table, coaxing Nattie to “Just try a few beans, honey.”

  Nattie put on her politest face and shook her head.

  “Our tastes can change as we grow older,” Karen added.

  Nattie nodded exuberantly, overly agreeable. “Well, mine haven’t yet.”

  Oh boy, Jack thought.

  Nattie wiggled her nose. “I’m cool with just a salad, but thanks.” In fact, as a compensation for the lack of beans, nearly half of Nattie’s plate was filled with leafy baby greens.

  Taking matters into her own hands, Karen did the unthinkable. She dished up a small portion and placed the beans on one side of Nattie’s plate. “Why not try a few,” she said, winking at Jack. “You might be surprised.”

  Nattie stared at the offending green things as if they were roaches. She looked over at Jack, horror in her eyes, silently beseeching him: “Rescue me!”

  “Nattie really doesn’t have to eat green beans,” Jack intervened. “As long as she’s willing to compromise.”

  Karen raised her eyebrows. “Compromise?”

  “Well, sure, by eating salad,” he replied.

  Karen applied her paper napkin to her lips. “I suppose that’s one way to approach it.”

  Nattie nearly collapsed with relief, and for the next few minutes they ate in silence.

  Finally, Karen put her spoon down and steepled her fingers.

  Jack took that as his cue. “So . . . are you ready for dessert?”

  “It’s strawberry pie,” Nattie announced proudly, apparently having recovered from her close call.

  “Well, we certainly don’t have any objections to sweets, now, do we?” Karen smiled.

  Nattie returned the smile, but Jack could tell she was melting under Karen’s sarcastic reproach. Jack bit his tongue. Let it go.

  After dinner they settled into the great room and reviewed the photo album from Nattie’s third grade. Later, they played Uno until nine o’clock, when Karen made a move toward the door. Meanwhile, Nattie waited in the living room, nursing a worried look.

  At the door, Jack and Karen exchanged appropriate niceties about the evening. Karen inched closer, until she was stroking his arm. She extended her cheek, and if Jack wasn’t mistaken, she puffed it out a bit.