Only Uni

by Camy Tang

  “I have an idea!” Trish tried to infuse as much excitement as she could into her voice. A handful of children stopped crying. “How about next week, we all bring our pets to church?”

  Griselle’s eyes nearly popped out of her face. But the kids erupted into cheers and squeals of joy.

  Horrified teacher . . . happy kids . . . horrified teacher . . . happy kids . . . Was there really a choice, here?

  The classroom door opened and a few women squeezed in. Trish then became aware of the buzz outside. Ser vice must be over. The cheerful kids made their parents smile warily as they filed in to collect their progeny.

  “Good Sunday school?” One older Asian woman dressed in pale lavender came in to collect Matthew, probably her grandson.

  “The kids were great.” Griselle’s tone gave no clue that she’d had anything but an uneventful hour. Only the slightly bluish tinge around her eyes hinted at anything wrong, and that might be attributed to the blue paint still flecked on her hands and her shirt.

  The woman turned to face both of them, a soft smile on her pink lips. “It’s so comforting to have pure young women like yourselves teaching these precious children about Jesus.”

  Trish’s smile froze. She felt like a block of ice, immobile and heavy.

  Pure? She wasn’t pure. Not like Griselle. Should she continue teaching Sunday school, deceiving people like this who thought she was someone she wasn’t? Her stomach churned more sluggishly as the woman beamed at her. Who was she kidding? Could she really become someone totally devoted to God like her past was erased? Life wasn’t a whiteboard, or a credit card that could be demagnetized.

  And then she saw him, a head above the other women coming and going. Kazuo’s burning eyes found hers and wouldn’t release her. He found that dark space inside her and made her feel set apart from the people around her, because she had tasted what they were too naïve to realize for themselves . . .

  No. She closed her eyes, shutting him out. That kind of thinking was an insidious spiral of poison in a glass of wine.

  He made her feel special. Sparkling. Wanted. Real.

  No. She was real. This person now was real. God had made her real.

  But could He make her pure?

  Did she really want to be pure?

  “Trish.” His quiet voice, adult and male and reasonable after an hour of childish babble, cooled her like a drink of water.

  She opened her eyes and only then noticed the pungent odor overriding his sandalwood scent.

  “You’ve been smoking pot.” She pitched her hiss low enough that he had to lean closer to hear her.

  He shrugged. “Just one hit.”

  “You’re in church, you idiot.”

  He shrugged again. “No one noticed.”

  Trish tilted her head back and closed her eyes. Probably no one had noticed. Probably 98 percent of these people had never smelled pot in their entire, secluded lives.

  He took her hand. Her eyes flew open, and she snatched it back, as much to avoid his insidious touch as to shake off the delicious shiver that climbed up her arm.

  “You have to stop following me.” She tried to frown at him, but it felt more like a pout. It was hard to stay mad when he seemed like such a pillar of sanity in the midst of the remaining children running wildly through the schoolroom.

  “You belong with me.” Somehow, the way he said it was romantic instead of stalker-creepy. “You don’t belong here with these people.” He never said the word hypocrite, but she could tell he meant it. “I love you for who you are, not who you’re trying to be.”

  How did he know that? It was as if he could read her mind.

  She had to find Aiden. Or Olivia. Or Spenser, even. She had to find help. She couldn’t fight him herself. She turned and walked out the door, waving mechanically at Griselle as she went by.

  Griselle gave her a pained smile. “Remember next week’s Pet Day.” If it weren’t given in such a sweet tone, it would almost be like a threat, as in Don’t even think of leaving me alone with them next week because you designated Pet Day.

  As she expected, Kazuo followed her. A few church members gave him strange looks as he passed, and no wonder — in all black, hot as a blacktop court on a summer day, and smelling distinctly pot-like — no, he didn’t stand out at all.

  She only had to make it to the foyer before help arrived in the form of Lex. She must have decided to attend Aiden’s church today. “Oh, thank you, God.”

  Lex’s brow wrinkled. “Why?” Then she caught sight of Kazuo behind her. “What are you doing here?”

  Yup, she could always count on Lex’s non-existent tact-o-meter.

  Kazuo’s eyes gleamed dull and black like an anaconda. “Your grandmother told me to come here. I asked a woman who said Trish was in the ‘fours and fives.’ ” However, when he turned to Trish, his countenance flipped from brooding to gentle and curious. “What are the ‘fours and fives’? Those children?”

  “Their ages.” He hadn’t spoken very nicely to Lex. The magnetic pull dimmed somewhat. Lex’s rudeness to him was motivated by love for Trish, while Kazuo’s rudeness to Lex was motivated by his posses siveness over Trish. While Trish was the first to admit it was nice to be wanted like that, no way did it come between blood.

  Plus she was really glad Lex was here to keep her in her right mind. At some point she had to learn how to think straight when Kazuo was around.

  “How did Grandma know I was here?” Trish addressed her question to Lex rather than Kazuo, so she clearly saw the guilty flash across Lex’s eyes. “No way. You told her?”

  “It was by accident, I swear. I was talking with Jenn at her house and forgot Grandma was in the next room with Aunty.” Lex’s glance flickered to Kazuo. “At least Grandma didn’t show up with him.”

  True, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t show up later. Or sometime soon. “Can we go?” Trish looked around nervously and caught sight of the old woman in lavender who had commended her and Griselle in the schoolroom. The woman’s gaze passed innocently over Kazuo, but suddenly Trish didn’t want Kazuo there, with these people, with her. He was like a blemish on her skin. A mole or a scab or a big honkin’ hump on her back. She didn’t want to stay here, crowded by all these nice churchgoing people who had no clue of the cancer on her soul.

  “Where’s Aiden? Let’s go.” Trish latched onto Lex and “accidentally” stomped on Kazuo’s foot when he tried to get close.

  Unfortunately, he had on his steel-toed boots, which only caused a sharp pain to stab up her heel. “Yowyowyow.”

  He tried to close in on her with concern on his face, but she hopped away. “Good-bye, Kazuo.”

  She tried to make her voice firm, but her heart both fell and tightened because she knew it wasn’t the last she’d see of him.

  SEVENTEEN

  Spenser knew he should let it go, but seeing Kazuo at church with Trish had been too much like déjà vu.

  He banged on his keyboard harder than necessary as he wrote up his report. Trish had dated Kazuo — she should know what he was capable of, his persistence, his track record with women.

  “Hey, Spenser.” Trish rocketed into the office and dumped her workbag on the floor. Plastic crinkled as she unearthed her lunch. “Do you have any other things I can do at church?”

  “You didn’t like Sunday school?” He’d have thought she’d be great with kids.

  She headed to the small fridge under one of the empty desks in the office. “Sunday school was fine, but it’s only bimonthly, so I wanted something in addition.”

  “You’re going to overcommit yourself.”

  “No I won’t.” She closed the fridge door and faced him with hands on her hips. “I am committed to becoming wholly devoted to God. I need to serve Him more. Rule number two is tell others about Christ.”

  Her rules again. “Was there anything you had in mind?”

  She chewed on the inside of her cheek. “I don’t really know many people at church.”

&n
bsp; Except for ex-boyfriends who visit.

  You chump, let it go. Let Kazuo do whatever he wanted to do with Trish. She was a big girl.

  No, he couldn’t. Trish was no match for Kazuo — he mesmerized like a snake charmer. Kazuo would snuff out her cheerfulness and bully her into whatever he wanted.

  It wasn’t only for Trish that he wanted to do something. If giving her things to do at church kept her distracted from Kazuo, sure he’d help her out. Anything to keep Kazuo’s hands off her.

  Where was his file from the last meeting at church? Still on his laptop? He dug around in his bag. “There’s always worship.”

  Trish flung her hands up with melodramatic force. “What about ‘I can’t sing’ do you not get?”

  “I know, it’s just . . .” He hesitated rather than saying it. It had been a long time since he’d heard God’s voice, and he felt rusty and stiff. “Every time I think of new stuff for you, the whole thing about worship comes into my head.”

  She opened her mouth, but he cut her off. “I know what you said. I’m telling you that the idea of you serving on the worship team isn’t from me.”

  Her lips formed a little O. She studied her feet. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to believe me, but . . . I don’t know, pray about it or something.”

  “Okay, but no promises.”

  He shrugged. “That’s fine.” He finally found the file on his PDA. “They need help at Katsu Towers.”

  “Old people?” Trish’s face told him plainly what she thought about that.

  “Assisted living. It’s close to church, so they have a program for people to visit.”

  “And do what? Wheelchair races in the hallways?”

  “What’s your problem?” He wanted to reach out and shake her. “Don’t you realize a lot of those people have family who never visit?”

  She paled like she’d been dropped in sub-degree temperatures. “Oh, I’m sorry. Gosh, that’s awful of me. I didn’t know.” She plopped down into her chair, then suddenly sat up, her spine straight as a serological pipette. “Of course I’ll do it. When?”

  “The team visits on Thursdays around four.”

  “I’ll arrange to come into work early.” She turned on her computer. “Email me the info.”

  “Bossy, aren’t you?”

  She gave him a look brimming with sass. “Are you going to not be such a weirdo this week?”

  He hadn’t been weird last week. The week before he’d been trying to get her attention, but last week he’d been . . . well, friendly. Maybe that freaked her out — she’d turned red and tried to avoid him a couple times. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll behave.”

  “Then I’ll consider being less bossy.” She turned to her computer. “Oops, I forgot.”

  “What?”

  “I forgot to find out who the church admin was so I could put a want ad in the bulletin.”

  “They don’t put want ads in the bulletin.”

  “Oh.” Her shoulders sagged.

  “But they have a bulletin board in the foyer.”

  “Oh, that big one? With all the fliers? I thought that was for church activities.”

  “They put want ads there too. What do you need?”

  “A roommate.”

  “I thought you had one.” Although from the overheard phone conversations, she sounded like a real pill.

  “She’s moving out. She can make someone else misera — um . . .uh . . .”

  “Sounded like your ex wanted you to move in with him.” He kept his eyes on his computer screen. Yeah, he was fishing, but . . . okay, he was fishing.

  Trish cleared her throat. “Just because he called begging me to move back in with him doesn’t mean I’m going to fall down at his feet again and do it.”

  Judging from the sound of her voice when she had talked with him, it had been a temptation she’d had to fight. But her assertion made Spenser feel a little better, even if he wasn’t about to admit it to anyone.

  “How about the Singles Group? They have meetings on Wednesday nights.”

  That made her pause. “Really?”

  “You could ask around there.”

  “Do you go?”

  “To Singles Group?” Did she not — ? Oh. She didn’t know. “No, I don’t go anymore.” He couldn’t quite keep the edge out of his voice.

  “Why not? Hot dates on Wednesday night?”

  She said it flippantly, but it knocked him like an uppercut. With brass knuckles. “Sure. That’s all you think of me. Going out, partying every night.” He stood.

  She started at his harsh tone. “I’m sorry — ”

  “No, you’re not. You always say what you mean.”

  “I was only teasing — ”

  “What do you think I do every night? Why do you think I always leave at five?”

  She swallowed. “I didn’t think — ”

  “You never think. You don’t know a thing about me.” She didn’t have a clue what he did every single night, even on nights he came home exhausted, even on nights he could admit he wanted to be somewhere else and not be paralyzed with guilt for even thinking it.

  “I have assays to run.” He snatched his lab coat from the wall hook and gave the door a good slam on his way out.

  He heard something crash on the f loor. Sounded a bit like his PDA.

  “Hi, Trish, it’s Griselle.”

  The perky voice bounded through her cell phone. Trish switched the phone to her other side and rattled her finger in her partially deaf ear. “Hi. What’s up?”

  “My apartment Bible study had to cancel tonight, and I was thinking of going to the Singles Group meeting, and wanted to know if you’re going?”

  “Yes. It’ll be good to see you there.” She didn’t mind meeting new people, but a guaranteed friendly face would make her more at ease.

  She hadn’t seen the Tricolored Trio or the Weekend Warrior guys since she first met them a couple weeks ago, but the memory of their less than enthusiastic welcome still burned a little.

  That’s okay. She knew she didn’t need everyone she met to like her. She knew it in her head, at least. It didn’t mean she was woo-hoo happy when that didn’t happen.

  Griselle insisted on driving and picked her up in a comfortable sedan that was clean enough to eat off the floor mats. Trish said a sincere prayer of thanks that she hadn’t exposed Griselle to the years-old french fries scattered over the floor of her little SUV, and the mound of tissues overflowing her car trash can — a plastic Safeway bag. Not to mention the food crumbs decorating the upholstery.

  The church was ablaze with lights, and not only the social hall where the Singles Group met. “Is there another ser vice going on?” Trish took perverse pleasure in the fact Griselle’s car door stuck a little.

  “No, but there are other Bible study groups that meet here.” She activated the car alarm and led the way inside. “There’s the men’s group, the Working MOPS group, the youth group . . .”

  The Singles Group seemed larger tonight than it had been on Sunday, with people scattered around the brightly lit social hall in clusters as they caught up and schmoozed.

  Griselle actually hesitated a little in the doorway. Trish blinked. She didn’t think someone as perfect as Griselle would be shy. Well, here at least was somewhere Trish excelled.

  She twined her arm in Griselle’s and plunged into the room.

  The first cluster of people near the door were the geeks — er, smart guys she’d met her first time in church. “Hi Jaspar, Willie, Gerard. Do you guys know Griselle?”

  “I’ve seen you around, but you don’t come to Singles Group very often, do you?” Willie gave a sweet smile. That was the most Trish had heard him speak.

  “No, I usually have a Bible study at my apartment on Wednesday nights.” Trish was suddenly glad Griselle was who she was — she didn’t make these nice guys feel like geeks. Stop it, stop thinking of them like that. They were nice, smart, socially handicapped — er, no,
that sounded kind of rude. Um . . . socially inexperienced young men.

  Certainly nicer than the Weekend Warriors, who’d gathered together again and seemed intent on ignoring her even though they were only a couple feet away.

  Then she noticed that one of them — he wore an Yves Saint Laurent shirt — glanced over and did a double-take at them. No, more specifically at Griselle. At all of Griselle, from her shimmering hair (Trish had to get her hair care secret from her on the drive home) down to her sandals peeping from the hem of her flowered skirt.

  What a slime! Which had nothing to do with the fact that his perusal completely bypassed Trish, who knew she ought to lose about ten pounds but certainly wasn’t an eyesore.

  At a break in the conversation, they said their goodbyes and went to mingle with other people. Yves Saint Laurent Shirt followed them with his eyes, which caught the attention of his buddies, but Griselle was clueless and Trish wasn’t about to enlighten her.

  Trish tugged Griselle to two women who looked friendly. They smiled at them at least, unlike the Tricolored Trio of girls — Blondie, Redhead, and Brunette — who stood nearby and looked away quickly. Trish knew some girls did that because they were shy, but she didn’t think that was the case with the Trio. If Griselle weren’t with her, she might have felt up to exerting herself and crashing their pink party just to annoy them.

  Oh, she was so obnoxious. Lex must be rubbing off on her. Or maybe God needed more time for the “new creation in Christ” to kick in.

  “I’m Marcy, this is Emmy. Have I seen you at church?” one girl asked Trish.

  “I only started going a couple weekends ago.”

  “You haven’t come out to lunch with the Singles Group?” Emmy, the tall girl, blew her silky brunette bangs out of her eyes.

  “Not yet.”

  “You should come with us this Sunday.” Marcy nodded, making her brown curls jiggle by her cheeks.

  “You look familiar, but I don’t remember seeing you in service.” Emmy’s eyes nearly crossed as she stared at Trish in concentration. “Where do you sit?”