Jude stepped in front of me. “It was my fault. Nadine said something nice, and I got carried away in the moment.”
The nun eyed him with disbelief. I often teased Jude about being the teacher’s pet, insisting all of the nuns were secretly in love with him. He adamantly denied it, but he’d sweet-talked himself out of more than one situation.
This time, however, Sister dismissed Jude’s confession and turned her attention to me. “You’re a fine girl, Nadine, but you need to be more prudent with your suggestive comments toward young men.”
“There was nothing suggestive about her comment,” Jude said. “I just took liberties. Honestly, Sister, it was all my fault.”
I didn’t dare look at Jude and instead kept my eyes fixed on the black whisker just above Sister’s lip. Were nuns allowed to use tweezers for facial hair removal, or was that considered too vain? My mother had an errant chin hair I was in charge of monitoring, lest she go out in public without plucking it. Would Sister appreciate the same courtesy, or would she consider it rude?
She held up tonight’s program. “Ave Maria is one of my favorite hymns. I’m looking forward to your performance, so let’s not taint it with sins of the flesh.”
“Yes, Sister,” Jude and I said together.
When she finally walked away, I let out a giggle and nudged Jude. “Sorry I tempted you with sins of the flesh.”
His face tightened into a serious knot. “We’re forgetting about Jailhouse Rock and just performing Ave Maria.”
“No.”
“Yes. I refuse to ruin your reputation or get you in trouble.”
I twirled a strand of hair around my finger, a flirtatious gesture I’d read about in one of the magazines at the hair salon. “Come on, Jude. It’ll be fun.”
He shook his head. “No. Your father would never forgive me if our performance got blown out of proportion and you got in trouble.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do, Nadine.”
I loved how he said my name. Loved the frown lines across his forehead when he was serious, and I loved how he was trying to protect me. “If Sister wasn’t watching, I’d let you kiss me again.”
That got a little smile out of him. He chuckled and shook his head. “If Sister wasn’t watching, I’d do more than kiss you.”
*
The audience clapped politely as Jude and I took the stage. They clapped again when we finished Ave Maria, but they went absolutely crazy when I began playing Jailhouse Rock on the school’s grand piano.
Jude looked at me and raised his brow. “Come on,” I mouthed, “You know you want to.”
He hesitated a moment, but then his leg twitched to the beat. Turning back to the audience, he belted out the words and thrust his hips back and forth, causing every girl to scream as if he was actually Elvis.
I laughed and threw myself into the music, shaking my shoulders as my fingers flew across the keyboard. Jude sounded fantastic, and judging by the audience, I wasn’t the only one to think so.
I was having the time of my life, and at that moment, I believed Jude and I could weather any storm. We were young, invincible, and in love.
Unfortunately, I hadn’t counted on the irrational reaction of our parents and the school’s administration. Their unfounded anger changed everything, altering the course of my relationship with Jude and threatening to destroy us.
Chapter 7
As Kyle packed for his trip to Haiti, we continued fighting about his fellowship program. I understood his reasons for wanting to further his education, but it didn’t change my mind. Besides my obvious objections, saying yes to the fellowship meant moving across Texas to a new town. I didn’t want to give up my part-time job and take the boys out of their environment and away from my family. And what about starting my master’s program? When was that supposed to happen?
“Maybe you could stay here with your mother while I commute back and forth,” Kyle suggested, throwing a pair of swimming trunks into his suitcase.
“You want us to live apart … for an entire year?”
“It might be easier on you.”
I stared in disbelief at the man I thought I knew. The man I’d vowed to love, honor, and respect all the days of my life.
Shortly after Kyle and I were engaged, Eleanor had vehemently advised me not to marry him. She’d compared him to the stray dog our brothers had rescued when they were in high school. All of us had loved and cared for that dog. He was blind in one eye and bore ragged scars from abuse, but he was part of our family.
We took him on walks, brushed him, and treated him with kindness. He slept on Michael’s bed every night. Despite our efforts, though, he never learned to trust anyone outside our immediate family. One day he attacked a little boy riding his bike past our house. The boy wasn’t hurt—just frightened. But we had to euthanize the dog. Both my brothers had sobbed, despite believing it was the right thing to do.
“Family and genetics matter,” Eleanor had said, regarding Kyle’s background. “Someone who grew up in the foster care system isn’t going to be a good husband.”
I hadn’t believed her then, and I didn’t believe her now. Although Kyle hadn’t told me all the details of his past, I knew he’d survived a difficult childhood by clinging to academics and sports. He was a hard worker with a good heart, and he truly loved me. He was just distant sometimes and excluded me from parts of his life.
I took Kyle’s swimming trunks out of the suitcase and rolled them into a tight ball so they would take up less space. “Families are supposed to stay together. We’re not living apart for a year.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he took my hand and hung his head. “I don’t want to keep fighting. Can we please table this discussion until I get back?”
I agreed. We’d come to an impasse, and neither one of us wanted to part on angry terms. All I could do was pray that being away from me for a month would change his mind.
For dinner, we made mini pizzas with the boys and played a rousing game of Go Fish. Kyle and I acted so polite to each other, pretending everything was normal, that I fell into bed exhausted.
In the morning, my husband’s excitement about working with the poor in Haiti reminded me of a little kid on Christmas morning. He kissed me good-bye at the airport and told me he’d miss me, but my heart was heavy as I piled the boys into the minivan and drove home.
*
Nothing much happened the rest of the week, but on Saturday, my sister hosted a family dinner at her house. Eleanor, a doctor herself, had a perfect life in a ritzy subdivision with her perfect husband and perfect daughter. My niece Aubrey was only a few months older than Logan but miles ahead in the obedience and intellectual departments. Not that I was one to compare my children, but still, Aubrey wrote beautiful thank you notes while Logan struggled with reversing his b’s and d’s.
I parked behind Eleanor’s recently purchased BMW and surveyed the other cars. My mom and my brother Michael were here, but my other brother and his wife hadn’t yet arrived, which instantly upgraded my status from late to on time.
Logan and Zane bolted from the car and raced up the walk, arguing over whose turn it was to ring the bell. Before they could work out a diplomatic solution, Eleanor’s live-in help, the young and vivacious Vilda, answered the door wearing high heels and a miniskirt. I tried to keep my face neutral, but I was dying to ask if she’d swiped the skirt from Aubrey’s closet since it seemed the perfect size for a small child.
Vilda slipped her ID and credit card into her bra and stepped onto the front porch. We exchanged pleasantries, then she said, “Gotta go.”
“Where are you off to looking so … nice?” I started to say trashy, but I didn’t want to insult her.
She licked her bright red lips. “Drinks and dancing with the girls.”
My brother-in-law came to the door. “Be careful, Vilda. And call if you find yourself in a situation where you need help.”
“Okay, Dad. Don’t wait up,” she s
aid sarcastically.
Vilda had worked for Eleanor and Jim since Aubrey was a newborn. She’d come over from Sweden on a temporary work visa, but now lived in the pool house, which was three times the size of my rental house. She earned an impressive salary taking care of my sister’s family, and she drove Eleanor’s slightly used Mercedes, which made my minivan look pitiful. Quitting my speech therapy job in favor of working for my sister and her husband had crossed my mind more than once.
Jim opened the door wide. “Did you bring your swim trunks, boys?”
“We sure did.” Logan slipped off his boots and lined them neatly on the front porch, something he never did at home but always at my sister’s house.
Zane imitated his older brother. “Do you really have a heater in your pool, Uncle Jim?”
“I sure do, and it’s nice and warm. Grandma is already swimming with Aubrey and the boy cousins.”
“I didn’t see Dan and Darlene’s car,” I said, referring to the parents of the boy cousins.
“It finally died, so they’re out buying a new one. Your mom brought the kids.”
We followed Jim through the pristine house to the backyard where my mom and all the cousins splashed in the pool. Since Logan and Zane had worn their swimming trunks underneath their jeans, they quickly undressed and joined the others. Much to his consternation, I made Zane get back out and put on his life vest because even though he could swim, I didn’t feel comfortable unless I was in the pool with him.
“I’ll watch him,” my mother offered.
I shook my head, not wanting to burden her with that responsibility when all the other grandchildren were vying for her attention. “He’s fine.”
With his life jacket on, Zane did a cannonball into the pool and swam to my mother. I wandered over to the outdoor kitchen where Jim was telling my brother Michael how to cook a steak to perfection.
“What’s new with you?” Michael asked, interrupting our brother-in-law.
Um, my husband and I are in the middle of a horrible argument, and he’s left for Haiti because he gets to do everything he wants and I get nothing. “Not much, what about you?”
“His divorce is final,” Jim said, gesturing with a long-handled spatula.
I winced and kept my focus on Michael. “Are you okay?”
He shrugged. “She left me over a year ago. This was just the final step.”
“Well, I’m sorry, Michael.”
“Thanks.” He took a long pull on his beer, and I made a mental note to be on the lookout for a single woman who might be interested in my brother. Michael wasn’t bad looking, but he was going through a scraggly long-hair-long-beard phase. He basically looked like a terrorist, except for the Mickey Mouse tattoo on his forearm.
Clueless to the current conversation, Jim lifted the barbecue lid and launched into a detailed explanation of how the perfect steak started with the perfect cut of meat from the butcher. And not just any butcher, but the one in south Austin.
Michael rolled his eyes, and I smiled. Jim had a bad habit of being oblivious to anyone but himself.
My sister came out of the house looking gorgeous as ever in leggings and a long maternity sweater. Even at nine months pregnant, Eleanor could’ve been mistaken for a model with her high cheekbones and crystal blue eyes. Her hair was stylishly cut and colored, and what little weight she’d gained from the pregnancy showed only in her round belly.
If her looks weren’t enough to make me feel inadequate, she was also somewhat of a celebrity in our small town as she’d co-authored several child-rearing books and frequently appeared on the local news. It was unfortunate she had such a harsh personality.
“It’s too cold for swimming,” Eleanor told her husband after giving me a brisk hello. “Mother has that cough, and I don’t want Aubrey getting sick.”
“They’re fine,” Jim said, dismissing her with a wave of a barbecue mitt.
Michael gestured toward the pool with his beer. “They’re playing so hard; they’re probably warmer than we are.”
Eleanor gave Michael a look of exasperation and pulled her sweater tighter. The kids and my mother were now playing a game that resembled full contact Marco Polo. My oldest nephew lunged toward Aubrey, who screamed.
Eleanor jumped. “She’s going to get hurt playing with those boys.”
Aubrey splashed water in Bruce’s face and swam away. Michael and I laughed.
“I’m pretty sure she can hold her own,” I said.
Eleanor grimaced, not appreciating my comment. She worried too much, and I often marveled how she managed to go through life with so much stress. In some ways, she reminded me of Kyle. Maybe that was a side effect of being a doctor, although Jim had gone to medical school and didn’t seem to worry about anything except his culinary skills.
When dinner was ready, we went inside and sat at the dining room table. I sliced into my steak and wondered what Kyle was having for dinner. Rice and beans? What did they eat in Haiti? I’d have to ask next time he called.
I was suddenly lonely for my husband. Kyle had missed a ton of family dinners in the past, but knowing he would be gone for an entire month left me with a huge hole. Did he feel the same? Or was leaving easy for him?
At least tonight, I was staying at my mom’s and wouldn’t have to go home to an empty house. But what about next year? If Kyle took the fellowship, would I be able to handle another year of this?
Since there was nothing I could do about it now, I turned my attention back to the table conversation. Dan and Darlene were still out car shopping, and Jim was telling everyone what kind of vehicle they should buy.
“I don’t think they can afford a Mercedes,” Michael said, giving me a wink.
No kidding. Dan and Darlene didn’t have money. He worked as a maintenance man for several churches, and she ran an in-home daycare that Zane attended. Their four boys ranged from ages five to eleven, and although I loved my nephews, they weren’t cheap as they played sports and had a habit of breaking everything.
And yet, there was a tenderness between Dan and Darlene that was downright inspiring. They truly loved each other, loved their children, and loved their life. If their relationship had a theme song, it would be “All You Need Is Love.”
Couldn’t Kyle and I have a life like that where time together was more important than work and money? Was this fellowship he so desperately wanted worth it? I didn’t want to stand in the way of my husband’s dreams and ambition, but where did I draw the line? How did I stand up for my own aspirations without thwarting his?
After dinner, the kids went swimming again while the men supervised, which basically meant lounging next to the pool and talking about sports or recent hunting trips. My brothers had turned Jim into a hunter, and in return, he’d taught Dan and Michael how to golf. Kyle had been too busy becoming a doctor to spend much time hunting and golfing, but he was more athletic than any man I knew.
I tackled the dishes with my mother and Eleanor, a sexist tradition, but a Kingsley family tradition nevertheless. Dan and Darlene were on their way over in their new car, a gently used Dodge Caravan.
My mother began rinsing the dishes but left when her cell phone rang. Without addressing us, she stepped onto the front porch, closing the door behind her.
“Who do you think she’s talking to?” I asked.
“Probably her bridge partner. Tomorrow’s bridge day, you know.”
“I know,” I said, but I didn’t. I couldn’t possibly memorize my mom’s complicated social schedule. Maybe I was like Jim. Too focused on myself. Nevertheless, my mother was unbelievably active, golfing and playing tennis several days a week in addition to volunteering at the Boys and Girls Club of America.
For the next several minutes, Eleanor and I worked together in silence. As I unloaded the dishwasher, I did my best not to be envious of her custom cupboards, top grade granite, and state-of-the-art appliances. In contrast, the cupboards in our rental were falling apart, we had lime-green laminate counterto
ps, and there was no dishwasher.
“Kyle’s thinking about doing a fellowship in obstetrics,” I said, casually.
“Why?”
“He wants to be able to deliver babies.”
“That’s ridiculous,” my sister said, meticulously hand washing a kitchen knife. “He doesn’t need to deliver babies to work at the clinic.”
Even though I completely agreed, I found myself defending Kyle. “He said he could get a better job with an OB background.”
She shook her head, disgusted. “If he was so desperate to deliver babies, he should’ve done an OB residency. Do you have any idea how hard fellowship is? It’s worse than internship year. You will never see him.”
“Well, that’s encouraging,” I said sarcastically.
She dried the knife and placed it in a neatly labeled knife block. “Jim wanted to do a fellowship, and I told him no.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “You’re not going to let Kyle do it, are you? What about finishing your education and buying a house?”
I cringed. Eleanor had trapped me between siding with her and supporting my husband. If Kyle ultimately took the fellowship, I didn’t want Eleanor to know I’d been opposed to it. In the past, she’d twisted information I told her in confidence and used it against me.
I rinsed the plates and stacked them neatly on the counter. “We’ll make a decision when he returns from Haiti.”
Eleanor’s brow lifted. She placed a hand on her belly and rubbed it in smooth circular motions, a sure sign she disagreed with me.
Ignoring her, I loaded the dishwasher. Kyle and I would somehow work this out. Maybe fellowship wouldn’t be so bad. I shuddered at the thought and decided I’d better get busy praying he’d come home a changed man.
The sound of my mother laughing on the porch only made me lonelier. It seemed like she was flirting, not strategizing for tomorrow’s bridge game.
“We need to talk about her,” Eleanor announced, gesturing toward our mother.
“What do you mean?”
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