Destination Unknown

by Amy Clipston

  I remembered Vanessa mentioning her uncle Rico. “Is Rico your brother?”

  Maria looked surprised. “Yes, he is. Did Taylor tell you Rico helped him build his motorcycle?”

  “Vanessa mentioned that her uncle Rico got Taylor interested in motorcycles. Taylor did a great job on these cookies, by the way.” I swiped another one.

  “They are very good cookies. Yes, Rico has really been wonderful. He’s been sort of a surrogate father to my kids.” She paused as if to gather her words. “Their father has never been interested in them, but he’s missing out on so much. He’d be proud to see who they’ve become.”

  “I’m sorry their father let them down. I can’t imagine how difficult it’s been for all of you.” I ate the cookie while contemplating her words.

  “I’ve bored you enough with my life story. Tell me about your college choices.”

  “I was accepted at University, State, and Kentwood University. I really want to go to U, but my mom is pressuring me to go to Kentwood.”

  Maria’s eyes rounded. “You got into Kentwood?”

  I nodded and hoped she wasn’t going to give me the same lecture everyone else hit me over the head with. “It’s my mom’s alma mater. It’s a status thing with her, like everything else. I’m supposed to go to her college and join her sorority so she can brag to her country-club friends.”

  “Oh.” Maria’s expression softened. “From the look on your face, I can tell you’d rather not go to please her.”

  “Is that wrong?” I really wanted to know her feelings. Maria seemed to be so knowledgeable about life. With all she’d endured, I had a feeling she could give me valuable advice.

  “No, it’s not wrong.” She tilted her head as if contemplating my question with extreme care. “You should definitely pray about it and then listen to your heart. Just don’t let your mother’s pressure cause you to make the wrong decision. I mean, don’t do the opposite of what she wants out of spite. If you decide not to go to Kentwood, it should be because you truly don’t want to go there.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “Let me put it to you this way. I married Carlos partially out of spite. I was blinded by love, but I also was tired of my mother lecturing me about finishing high school. I thought I could show her I was smarter than she was by dropping out of school to get married.” Maria looked around the kitchen. “I love my kids, but raising them alone hasn’t been easy. My mother was right. I should’ve stayed in school and maybe even tried to get into college on a scholarship. Finding a good-paying job without even a high school diploma isn’t easy.”

  “Have you thought about maybe getting your GED?” I hoped maybe I could offer her some good advice too.

  “You’re sweet to suggest it, but I don’t have the time to study for the test. I’d love to do it someday, but right now I’m trying to keep my head above water.”

  “Oh.” I fingered my napkin. “It must be a challenge for you to try to balance work, children, and school.”

  “Try next to impossible.” Maria reached for the gallon of vanilla ice cream in the middle of the table. “Are you up for another sundae?”

  I rubbed my abdomen. “No, I don’t think I could eat another bite.”

  “I feel the same way.”

  Maria and I talked for more than an hour. Soon Vanessa rejoined us, and the three of us continued our conversation.

  We were cleaning up the kitchen when the door leading to the garage opened, and Taylor came in.

  “What are you three ladies up to?” Taylor asked as he shrugged off his faded-green army jacket and hung it over a kitchen chair.

  “We’re up to no good,” Maria joked. “We’ve enjoyed enchiladas, and we made your delicious cookies into chocolate-chip-cookie sundaes.”

  “Oh.” Taylor’s eyes grew wide. “Did you save me any enchiladas and cookies?”

  “Maybe a few.” Vanessa shrugged, and I laughed.

  “Yes, we did save you a little bit of food, but you missed out on a good time.” Maria pulled the enchiladas from the refrigerator. “Want me to warm them up for you?”

  “That sounds great.” He walked toward the doorway. “I’ll go wash up.”

  I found Maria a plate in the cabinet and she put three enchiladas on it. Maria stuck them in the microwave while I cleaned up a place for Taylor at the table.

  When Taylor returned, I took the plate from Maria and set it, along with a glass of iced tea, at the table for him. “Wow, Whitney. I could get used to you serving me.”

  Vanessa laughed.

  “Don’t get used to it, Taylor,” I said with feigned irritation.

  Taylor began to eat, and I turned to Maria. “Can I help you clean up?”

  “Oh, don’t be silly.” She waved off my offer. “Sit with Taylor. I’m sure he’d like to visit with you.”

  I sank into a chair beside him. “How was work?”

  “Good.” He snapped his fingers. “I got a few books for us to share.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Really?”

  “I told you I would.” He cut up the enchilada. “How did you like that Becker book?”

  “Oh, it was great. Do you want it back?”

  “I’ll borrow it, but you can keep it after I’m done.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  While Taylor ate, we continued our conversation about books. I didn’t immediately notice that his mother and sister had finished cleaning up and disappeared from the kitchen while we were talking.

  Our conversation moved from books to school as Taylor finished eating the enchiladas and made himself a chocolate-chip-cookie sundae. His bowl was soon empty, and I helped him gather up the dirty dishes.

  “How about I wash and you dry?” I asked while filling the sink with hot, sudsy water.

  “You really don’t have to help with the dishes, Whitney.” He dropped the bowl and plate into the sink. “You’re a guest.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m a friend.” I picked up the brush and began scrubbing the plate. “I really had fun with your mom and sister. They’re awesome.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.” He stood close to me. “I was glad to see you were still here when I got home.”

  I looked up at him. “You knew I was going to come for lunch?”

  “Vanessa told me she wanted to invite you. I was hoping you’d stay.” He looked at me with an intense expression.

  “Thanks for the cookies.”

  He touched my arm. “Mom wasn’t supposed to tell you I made them.”

  “I’m glad she did.”

  Taylor moved closer, and my breath caught in my throat. His hand moved to my cheek, and I thought my heart would burst in my chest. He dipped his face down to mine, and the sudden chirp of my cell phone caused me to jump.

  Taylor moved away. “You’d better get that.”

  “Okay,” I muttered as I crossed to the kitchen table and searched my purse for my phone. I pulled it out, and my lips formed a thin line when I found it was my mom calling. Leave it to her to ruin the moment! “Hello?”

  “Whitney!” My mother’s voice blared through the phone. “Do you know what time it is?”

  I glanced over at Taylor, who was shaking his head while washing the dishes. I was certain he’d heard my mother’s booming voice.

  “It’s almost six,” I said.

  “I know! That’s my point. You need to get home now, young lady. I’m planning a special dinner.” Her tone told me there was no room for discussion.

  “Okay. I’ll see if Mrs. Martinez can bring me home.”

  “Fine. See you soon, dear.” She disconnected before I could say good-bye.

  “I can drive you.” Taylor dried his hands on a dishtowel.

  “I don’t know if that would work out.” I looked down at my dress.

  “I happen to have both a motorcycle license and a regular driver’s license.” He hung the dishtowel on the oven handle. “Let me get my mom’s keys.”

  He disappeared from the kitch
en, and I took a deep, cleansing breath. I knew he was going to kiss me just before my mother called. I couldn’t stop wondering what it would’ve felt like to kiss him. Would it have been as wonderful as I imagined? Could Taylor Martinez actually like me?

  “Hey, Mom. Can I use your car to take Whitney home?” Taylor called from the next room.

  “Oh, is Whitney leaving?” Maria asked.

  I stepped into the doorway and found Maria watching the evening news while Vanessa sat on the floor and wrote in a notebook on the coffee table. “Thank you for a wonderful afternoon. I really had a great time, and the food was amazing.”

  “I’m sorry you have to go.” Maria stood and crossed the room.

  “My mom just called. She’s making dinner, and she wants me home now.” I fingered my skirt. “You can’t argue with her sometimes.”

  To my surprise, Maria hugged me. “You’re welcome here anytime, Whitney. We enjoy having you over.”

  “Thank you.” I felt overwhelmed by her kindness. “I love spending time here.”

  I felt a hand on my back and looked up at Taylor standing close behind me.

  “We’d better go.” He gestured toward the door with his free hand. “I could hear your mom’s frustration from across the kitchen.”

  “You’re right. She wants me home right away.” I waved to Vanessa. “See you soon. Good-bye.”

  I followed Taylor through the garage, where he stopped and retrieved a bag of books from his bike seat.

  He handed the bag to me. “Let me know which ones are good, and then I’ll borrow them.”

  I peeked inside the bag and spotted four hardcover mysteries. “Thanks so much.”

  “You’re welcome. I love the bargain book section. I always find some good deals at more than half off the cover price.”

  We moved to the car, and he opened the passenger door for me. As I climbed in, I admired his manners. I’d never had a boy open a car door for me. It was as if Taylor were from another era. I wondered if his uncle Rico had told him how he should treat girls.

  We made small talk about the cool weather and homework as he drove me home. When we reached the driveway, my stomach tightened. I hoped he’d possibly try to kiss me again.

  “I guess I’ll see you around school.” He tapped the steering wheel. “If I don’t run into you tomorrow, I’ll definitely see you Tuesday.”

  “Okay.” I waited for a moment, hoping he’d lean over to me. However, Taylor continued to sit erect in the driver’s seat. “Good night.”

  “Good night, Whitney.”

  I climbed from the car and waved before heading toward the back door. I was daydreaming about how amazing Taylor’s kiss would’ve been when I stepped into the kitchen and found my family at the kitchen table.

  I slipped into my seat and joined in as my father prayed aloud.

  “Whitney,” my mother said sharply after the prayer had ended. “Go wash up.”

  I dropped the bag of books and my purse in the family room and then quickly washed my hands at the kitchen sink. My father and brother talked about sports teams I couldn’t have cared less about.

  I returned to my seat and reached for the platter of chicken cordon bleu. “It smells delicious, Mom.”

  “Thank you, Whitney.” She patted her mouth with a linen napkin and then eyed me. “I resent how much time you’re spending with that family.”

  I added mixed vegetables and rice pilaf to my plate. “They’re my friends. Taylor had to work today, and I spent the afternoon talking with Mrs. Martinez and Vanessa. We had a really nice time.”

  I sipped my iced tea to prevent myself from laughing at my mother’s shocked expression.

  “Whitney, you can’t forget that you’ll be leaving for college soon. We don’t have much more time to spend together. I’d like to have some special girls’ days with you before you leave.”

  “I promise we will spend time together, Mom. I’m not leaving for school just yet.” I studied my plate, but I had absolutely no more room in my stomach for food. I felt queasy just looking at the meal. I took a few bites to avoid upsetting my mother even further.

  Mom cut up her chicken cordon bleu. “Besides, I think you need to concentrate more on your studies. Once supper is over, you will do the dishes and then get right on your homework. No phone and no television. Understood?”

  “Yes, Mom.” I half listened to my brother and father talking more about sports, but I continued to daydream about Taylor. I couldn’t shake the idea that he would’ve kissed me if my mother hadn’t called. I wondered what it meant. Did he plan to ask me out?

  “Whitney?” My father’s voice rang through my thoughts. “Are you listening?”

  “I’m sorry.” I looked over at him. “What were you saying?”

  “I was asking if you enjoyed your afternoon with your friends.” He placed his utensils on his empty plate.

  “Yes, I did. Thanks.” I gathered up the dirty dishes and platters.

  My mother stood. “Would anyone care for a piece of the sugar-free apple pie I bought today?”

  “If we have ice cream with it,” Logan said.

  “I think I have some fat-free vanilla in the freezer. Let me go check.”

  I glanced back at my father and brother and spotted them rolling their eyes. I’d once heard my brother ask my father if they were going to stop for ice cream after karate, which was proof they cheated on Mom’s healthy cooking outside of the house just like I did.

  I began loading the dishwasher while my mother placed the pie and ice cream on the table.

  “Whitney, would you like a piece?” Mom asked.

  “No, thanks. I’m pretty full.” I dropped utensils into the little plastic baskets as I avoided my mother’s probing stare.

  “You hardly ate anything at supper. Did you fill up on junk over at Taylor’s house?” Mom fetched desert plates and utensils.

  “No.” I kept my eyes on the dirty dishes. “I’m just not hungry.”

  “Then you go on and get started on your homework. Logan can help clean up.”

  Logan groaned.

  “No complaining, Logan. You can help out.” Dad gave Logan a warning glance.

  “Fine.” Logan scowled.

  “Thanks.” I wiped my hands, retrieved my bag of books and my purse, and hurried up to my room where I sat at my desk and pulled out the report I’d printed last night.

  I was proofreading it when my cell phone chimed, announcing a text message. I dug my phone out of my purse and was surprised to see the message was from Taylor.

  He texted: Hi. Hope you’re not in trouble for getting home late.

  I couldn’t help but grin. He was worried about me! I responded: Mom isn’t happy but it’s ok. She told me to stay in my room and get homework done. No big deal.

  Taylor said: Good. Need help with anything?

  I raised my eyebrows and then responded: Want to proofread my history report?

  Taylor didn’t text back right away, and I regretted being so bold. I hoped he knew it was a joke. I turned my attention to my report. When another text rang through the phone, I jumped.

  He texted: ¡Me gustaria ayudarle en cualquiera manera que puedo!

  I laughed out loud as I translated it to mean, I would be happy to help you in whatever way I’m able to.

  I texted back: ¡Estás loco! (You’re crazy!)

  He responded: Do u want my help or not?

  I typed: Sure. What’s your email address? I’ll send the report.

  He texted his email address, and I sent him the report. I then stared at my computer screen and considered my college choices. I surfed the Kentwood, University, and State websites, thinking about my future and wondering where I belonged. Was I meant to be a teacher and cheerleading coach, or did God have other plans for me? And how would I know what those plans were supposed to be?

  My thoughts turned to Taylor, and I wondered what he thought of my history paper. I was so thankful for his friendship, and even if I never date
d him, I hoped our friendship would last a long time. Yet I still couldn’t stop wondering what it would have been like to kiss him.

  chapter thirteen

  The next two weeks flew by quickly. I did my best to avoid my friends, but I spent as much time as I could with Taylor. It seemed he was the only person who really understood me. We enjoyed our Tuesday tutoring sessions, spending approximately fifteen minutes on calculus and the rest of the time talking about everything from school to God and family. I also talked to Taylor in the halls between classes. He texted me every night to say hello, and he wished me sweet dreams in Spanish. He still hadn’t kissed me, but I wasn’t giving up hope that it would happen.

  I also kept my Thursday-afternoon dates with Vanessa, when we worked on cheerleading and also got to know each other better. I sat with Taylor and his family at church, despite my mother’s disapproving glances.

  Sunday afternoon, my mother insisted I come straight home from church to help clean up the house.

  “What is the big deal, Mom?” I ran a duster over the curio cabinets filled with her most precious and expensive figurines. “Didn’t the cleaning service come last week? I thought I remember you telling Dad that Happy Maids were coming on Thursday or something.”

  “Yes, they did come, but I just want to freshen up the house a bit.” She pulled her box of silver from the hutch across the long room. “We’re having company tonight. I’m making a special supper. Pheasant.”

  “Wait a minute.” I spun and faced her while she added the crystal glasses and serving platters to her pile of fancy pieces that she only used when she entertained. “Who’s coming for dinner?”

  “The Steeles.”

  “What?” I dropped the duster and marched over to her. “Do you mean Brett Steele?”

  “Yes, I do, dear.” She pointed toward the curios. “You missed a spot over on the right. Look at it from my point of view.”

  “Please, Mom, can you understand my point of view? How could you invite Brett and his family over for dinner when you know he broke up with me?”

  “Now, Whitney, this is just a friendly dinner. You know I’m good friends with Rhonda. We’ve been discussing getting the families together for quite some time. This is nothing more than a social gathering. I love to entertain.” She pointed toward the cluster of fancy serving platters, glasses, and utensils. “Help me carry the glasses and serving platters into the kitchen.” She gathered up the glasses in her hands.