“Does Mom know? God, I am so stupid. Here I thought you were the only adult who wasn’t lying to me, but you’re just the same!” Dina shook her head, pacing the length of the car while Callie frantically tried to come up with something, anything that would prove her innocence.
“Nicole was my girlfriend once. Rebecca knows that I would never—”
“You cannot do this to Mom! She gave up everything for you. If she finds out that you’re cheating on her, she’ll never get over it!”
Dina’s use of absolute terms wasn’t lost on Callie. They weren’t just exaggeration fueled by teenage angst.
“Stop it, Dina. I’m not cheating on Rebecca. I promise you. I love her. Nicole has been following me around since New York. I want to stop it. I don’t know how. Please, you have to believe me!”
Dina studied her intently, obviously realizing that Callie was just as shocked as she was.
“Is she a stalker? Like Matt?”
“Not like him,” Callie said, the flash of a memory making her light-headed. “She’s just pissed at me because I’m with someone else. I love your mom, Dina.”
“You better. I mean, living with Dad is okay most of the time, but I don’t think Maggie could stand it if she had to move again, and Mom—she’s just so into you. She can’t go through this!”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Rebecca seemed to have no idea how protective her daughter was of her. It touched Callie deeply. She wasn’t sure she could walk back into the mall now and act as if this conversation hadn’t happened.
“They probably miss us already.”
“Probably.” Dina gave her a rueful smile. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. It’s just that—”
“Yeah, I know. She freaked me out too.”
Dina kept quiet about the latest Nicole incident. She got some supervised internet time to write an email to Tomaso in order to let him know she was okay. In exchange, she agreed to come to church on Sunday.
They spent a rather quiet afternoon, watching Avatar with the girls, having ice cream and popcorn. Dina promised not to send Tomaso any pictures in which she wasn’t completely clothed.
“It’s progress,” Rebecca said as they later sat together on the couch, letting the evening wind down. “Although I suspect that she mostly wants her access to communication devices back to normal.”
“She’s a smart girl. She’ll know how far she can go,” Callie offered, hoping she wasn’t making premature promises.
Sunday morning, Dina helped Callie with breakfast. Both Rebecca and Maggie were still fast asleep last time she’d checked. Callie wasn’t sure if she’d done the right thing by simply letting the subject of Nicole’s reappearance slide, but here they were now. There was only so much you could do with talking, and maybe this time she’d really give up.
“If I ask you a simple question, can I ask you not to freak out and not to tell Mom?”
“That is not a simple question, it’s a loaded one,” Callie said, wary and amused at the same time. “I promise not to freak out. As for not telling your mom, I’d like to hold judgment until I’ve heard it.”
Dina made a face, but she seemed to consider the offer.
“I’d hoped we could trade. I didn’t tell on you either.”
“True,” Callie admitted. “So what is it?”
“Well, it’s about sex, and talking to Mom is a little awkward.”
“Oh boy. Although I’m kind of flattered that you think talking to me would be better. I’ll see if I can answer your question.”
“It’s not a question.” Dina sighed. “When I sent Tomaso that picture I kind of meant it. I just didn’t tell anyone because everybody’s freaking.”
“I figured as much. Have you talked about…” Callie could feel her face heat. That was how much she was equipped for this conversation, and one of, in her opinion, many good reasons why she never wanted children. “I mean, would it be time to make an appointment with a gynecologist? She could also give you advice on a lot of subjects, and I can promise she’d be cool about it, more than your mom or I could be.”
“I might. I don’t understand the whole internet lockdown. It’s ridiculous. First of all, I never sent the picture to anyone else. He didn’t share it, of course. It’s not like we haven’t seen a lot more of each other anyway.”
Callie barely caught the glass before it would have slid from her hands and shattered on the floor.
“Relax. We haven’t gone all the way yet.”
It was the girl’s use of the word “yet” that made the relaxing difficult.
“You plan to though?”
“When was your first time with a girl?”
“At seventeen. Before you ask, no, there weren’t any experiments before that.”
Dina regarded her with what seemed fascination now.
“Wow, really? That seems…late.”
Thanks for the diplomatic choice of a word. “It’s hard to tell somebody when it’s the right time. You shouldn’t be rushed.”
Dina nodded. “I don’t plan to. If I want that appointment, though…”
“Let me tell Rebecca, please? I’m sure she’ll be fine with it, because you get to ask a professional those questions.”
“Yeah, I can imagine she’d really freak out if I asked her.”
“She just wants you to be safe.”
Dina hesitated a moment before asking, “Why don’t you call the police?” Then she added, “Don’t look so surprised. It’s just that you’re kind of cool, Mom loves you, and it seems like your ex is a real bitch. We just want you to be okay, too, you know?”
Dina never ceased to amaze her. “Thank you. I’ll have to talk to the sheriff, I guess.” She wasn’t ready though to confide how much the idea of going to the police station still terrified her.
* * * *
The weekend had passed surprisingly quiet except for Dina’s request to have an appointment with a gynecologist. Well, that had been quietly discussed too. If she was honest, Rebecca was relieved that she wouldn’t have to go too deeply into certain subjects with Dina. She was grateful for the Sunday morning church visit, usually a time and place to sort out her thoughts.
After the service, Father Langdon, who had held his last service today, asked her for a few minutes time. Rebecca joined him in his office. It wasn’t like he owed her an explanation, but she appreciated his concern. She assumed that her contract, with many others, would have to be renegotiated.
“I’m sorry I can’t tell you specifics,” Father Langdon said, his regret showing. “I really hope the new minister will prolong your contract, but I’m afraid you’ll have to talk it over with him. I’ll recommend you, of course.”
“Thank you.”
They had gone to church together even though Rebecca knew she might be the only one to whom the regularity of attending service really meant something. It was a sort of comfort that she couldn’t get anywhere else. She could pray even with the looks and whispers. A great deal of the people in her town was on her side.
Callie practiced polite detachment at best, Maggie liked the singing, and Dina was just happy to get out of the house after her days of house arrest.
Father Langdon had announced his retirement earlier, but now that he actually said good-bye to his congregation, it seemed sudden. Rebecca always seen an ally in him. He hadn’t thrown her out of church when the rumors about her had spread through town like a wildfire, and not even when most of them turned out to be true. She was regularly overhauling the community’s website and could only hope the new minister wouldn’t want to introduce too many changes. After the restaurant, the church contract was the only one at the moment, one she really couldn’t afford to lose. More than that, she was going to miss him as a friend.
“Why now, if I may ask?”
He smiled. “It’s not that sudden. I’ve tried to keep myself up-to-date with all the changes, but I think it’s time to let someone younger take over.”
Rebec
ca secretly wondered if it was such a good idea to let someone from out of town take over, but she didn’t say that out loud.
“I never really thanked you for…You know, for not cutting me off that day.”
“You had something important to say,” he acknowledged. “People base too much prejudice on misinformation, and it’s exactly what the Bible warns us about. Snap judgment. Of course, none of us goes through life without ever hurting anybody, much as we wish. It’s when we do it knowingly and intentionally that there’s a problem.”
“I suppose.” Rebecca knew he meant well, but there was something about this equation that made her uncomfortable nonetheless. There had been a moment on the edge of a fantasy when nothing mattered but making it come true, and she had. No matter how hard she’d been working to sort her life out in the aftermath.
“I wish you all the best, Father. We will miss you.”
“Thanks, Rebecca. Best wishes to you and your family.”
They shook hands and then she went back to join her family. Rebecca found herself smiling, if a little wistful. The father was right: Change wasn’t always bad. Sometimes, you gained more than you lost.
When they came home, there was light in the house across the street, the Waterses doing some renovation work. Callie wordlessly slid her hand into Rebecca’s. Maggie and Dina were talking to each other, unaware.
* * * *
Callie had offered. Susan had offered, too, with hesitation, wary about Rebecca’s reaction. The truth was, Rebecca couldn’t afford a cop-out where one of her children was concerned. As much as the idea of Dina seeing a gynecologist was an uncomfortable reminder that she was, indeed, growing up, Rebecca wanted to be there for her. Fortunately, Callie had already paved the way. All that was left to do was make an appointment, out of town, because their family had been talked about enough in Autumn Leaves.
Dina had asked them to wait outside. They would pick up Maggie and have dinner in town later. Rebecca shook her head to herself when she sat back in the passenger’s seat.
“Should I feel like a bad mother for encouraging her?” she asked, her question meant to be rhetorical, but Callie answered it anyway.
“Of course not. It’s not just about sex, you know? The more she knows, the more she can make her own choices. It’s about her being happy and healthy. Of course, only a bad mother would want that.”
Rebecca smiled unwittingly. “Thanks. I guess.”
“She’ll be fine. You both will be. You wouldn’t want to put her at risk with that abstinence-only delusion I grew up with.” Callie’s tone was light, but Rebecca was somewhat troubled by the use of the word risk.
“We never talked about—”
“Nothing bad happened to me,” Callie said quickly. “I just meant in general. The school couldn’t be bothered—my mom was pretty cool, but just as uncomfortable with the subject as any parent.”
“Okay,” Rebecca acknowledged, not sure whether that was enough of an answer. She’d let it go for now. “My parents never talked about these things either. I guess I have a little more sympathy for them now.”
“Yeah, it’s a tough job to be a parent.” Callie smiled to herself. “My mom told me she’d support me no matter what and that I could love who I wanted to. That’s great, just a little vague on the specifics when you’re a clueless and curious teenager.” She turned to Rebecca when there was no answer. “Are you okay?”
“I’m trying to be. This is all just reminding me how clueless I’ve been for most of my life. When you’re that young, it’s even more terrifying. I just want to protect her.”
“I know.” Callie laid a hand on her arm, the touch warm and reassuring. “Believe me, you’re doing a great job.”
Rebecca gave her a grateful smile, but she couldn’t help thinking that her parenting skills would be judged less friendly by others, including herself. She doubted herself more often these days.
Dina was thoughtful, but in good spirits when she returned.
“You can all take a deep breath now. Everything’s fine. No, I’m not getting a prescription. Yet.” She put in her earphones and turned up the volume of her iPod.
“Dina!” While Rebecca was glad the visit seemed to have passed uneventfully, she couldn’t help thinking that this might be too easy.
“Mom.” Dina made a face. “It’s nice that you came, but the next time I know how it works. If I should need a prescription for the Pill, I don’t even have to tell you.”
“Is that what she said?” Rebecca asked in disbelief.
“Yes, but I looked it up on the internet first. It’s state law, Mom.”
Callie smiled at that, but she made an effort to keep a straight face when Rebecca glared at her. Dina went back to her music until Maggie climbed into the backseat next to her.
An hour later or so, when all of them had given their orders at the restaurant, it was the first time today that she could truly relax. Rebecca felt exhausted, wondering if she was going to make it through the meal without falling asleep. She excused herself to go to the restroom and splash some cold water on her face. Skeptically, she studied her reflection in the mirror. No doubt, she looked tired.
The challenges never ended, but then again, had it ever been different? She’d made it through all of them. She had smart and capable children and a partner by her side, who was in it for the long haul. I could have done worse. Rebecca smiled at herself and turned to go back to the guest room. At the bottom of the stairs, she nearly ran into someone, excusing herself and regretting it when she realized who it was.
“Craig,” she muttered.
“Hey there,” David’s brother said. He looked her up and down appraisingly. “I hear you’re selling. Good luck with your pretend family.” He hadn’t yet called her a home-wrecking whore, not to her face, in any case. The sentiment was very much implied. Come to think of it, he had called her names before. Rebecca shook her head.
“A nice evening to you too.”
They had harbored a mutual dislike for a few years now, hard to say where it had started. Probably, Rebecca reflected, when he’d made a pass at her on his parents’ wedding anniversary. The fact that he, when he’d still been the sheriff of Autumn Leaves, had failed to apprehend two young men who had terrorized her family, hadn’t helped.
“You’re a cold-blooded bitch, Rebecca. For sure, Dave is better off without you.”
Rebecca turned to walk away, unwilling to deal with his hateful words. What little sympathy she had for him after Maria’s death was nearly gone. There was grief, and then there was being intentionally mean.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Callie remarked in a whisper when she came back to the table. “Everything okay?”
Rebecca straightened her shoulders. “Yeah.” She took a deep breath. Callie took her hand under the table, but Dina had noticed it anyway. She smiled indulgently then turned back to listen to Maggie. You’re wrong, Rebecca thought. This is my family. There’s nothing “pretend” about it.
* * * *
She drove by the church again after dropping Maggie off at school at the end of the next week. She wanted to introduce herself to the new minister and if possible, check at the same time if she still had a contract. In the entrance, she nearly collided with someone familiar. The day she had held her spontaneous speech had originally been intended to introduce services for troubled teenagers, to which she had contributed with her website.
It had made her so angry and sad that some parents would take gossip over protecting their own children from the bullying she’d known to be going on that she just couldn’t keep quiet. One thing had led to another.
Mark Graham was a psychologist who was employed by the church, and had talked about his work on that day. He had appeared calm and unshakable to Rebecca, the very cliché of his profession. He looked upset now.
“Good morning, Doctor Graham.”
“Mrs. Lowman, I’m sorry. I don’t usually make it a habit nearly hitting people in the fac
e with doors.”
“It’s okay. I’m all right. I take it it’s not a good moment to go see the new minister?”
He shook his head. “What the hell was Father Langdon thinking? I’m not going to stand for this.”
“Well,” Rebecca said carefully, already feeling a tight knot in her stomach. This might not bode well for her. “First, I don’t think Father Langdon decides who the church sends. He just said something about somebody younger.”
“That’s not going to be the only change,” Graham said darkly. “You might want to reconsider if you still want to work for this church. I certainly won’t, but see for yourself.”
“What exactly did he say?”
“Let’s just say, having an open mind isn’t always a matter of age, and we were very lucky with Father Langdon. I’m afraid that luck has run out. Be careful, Mrs. Lowman.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Rebecca walked into the building that had been familiar to her for a long time with apprehension. Father Langdon had baptized both Dina and Maggie. With very few exceptions, she’d gone to service every Sunday. Maybe she was letting herself be influenced too much by what she’d just witnessed, but she imagined she could already feel the changes. Father Langdon had been a kind man. She hoped his successor would be too.
“Hi Paula,” she greeted the secretary. At least the new minister had kept her. Paula’s son was in Maggie’s book club, so they’d known each other even before Rebecca had started working on the church’s online presence.
“I was just wondering if I could have a word with—”
“Paula, I told you, no appointments this…” The man was in his mid-thirties, good-looking. When he turned to Rebecca, his tone immediately softened. Smiling, he extended his hand.
“I am Father Reynolds—and you are Mrs. Lowman, I believe? Thank you for coming by. I’ve been meaning to call you, but as you can see…” He shrugged. “Transitions always make for very busy times. Why don’t we go in my office? Would you like a coffee?”
“No, thank you,” Rebecca said, trying to understand what was going on. She hadn’t known she was that notorious in Autumn Leaves. He’d been here for how long, a couple of weeks at the most? “I won’t take much of your time. I was just wondering about something. I was in the middle of a contract with Father Langdon for the church’s website. I’ve been meaning to ask you if you wish to continue.”
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