Susan Meissner - Why the Sky Is Blue

by Unknown

  “How does week after next sound?” Grandma said to Lara.

  Lara looked over at my mother like any child would look to its mother for permission or advice. It was the unmistakable gesture of a daughter seeking a parent’s blessing.

  This did not go unnoticed by Mom, either. She seemed to relax as Lara looked her way and waited. My mom smiled and nodded. Lara turned back to my grandmother.

  “That sounds great,” she said.

  “I’ll take care of making the airline reservation,” my grandmother said, giving Lara a hug goodbye. “We’ll have such a good time.”

  “I am sure we will,” Lara said as they parted.

  “I want to come, too, Gamma,” Olivia said.

  “Well!” my grandmother said, “Wouldn’t that be fun!”

  “Maybe next time, Livvy,” I interjected.

  “I want to go this time!” she said, and I could sense a battle brewing.

  “Let’s talk about it later and see what’s best,” I said.

  “I’m coming with you!” Olivia said to Lara, looking up at her from the swing.

  Mom came to my rescue.

  “Olivia, can you get Aunt Elizabeth’s sweater for her? I left it on the kitchen counter.”

  Olivia bounded off the swing to fetch the sweater as I gave Mom a look of gratitude that I knew she understood.

  We said goodbye and watched the car drive away; then Michael and I ushered our own kids into our car to go home.

  Lara stood there between my parents as we drove off, and I suddenly saw the irony of her being between my parents. I wondered what it was like in that house with just the three of them: the mother, the daughter, and the man who loves his wife.

  On Monday, as another workweek began, I found myself itching to get away from the tedious routine of my job, even though it was work I loved. I brought Olivia and Bennett with me to play in the basement at the Table that morning. Michael was doing livestock judging in another town all that week, so the kids had to be with me or spend their days in daycare. That probably also colored my mood. One day was fine in the basement of the shop, but I knew they would balk at five days of it, and they didn’t particularly enjoy daycare in the summer. I wasn’t looking forward to the week.

  Mom and Lara were already at the Table when we arrived. Mom was on the phone in the office, and Lara was making lattes behind the counter with Nicole and Trish. I sent the kids downstairs to play since it was my day to run the front rooms where we sold the books, my paintings, and a few other gift items.

  It was one of those mornings where nothing went right for me as a mother. The kids were up and down the stairs, constantly needing my attention or my refereeing skills. By lunchtime I had a monstrous headache. I was swallowing two Advil when Lara came up to me.

  “I’m off at noon every day this week,” she said. “I can take Olivia and Bennett home with me, and you can come get them when the shop closes.”

  “That’s too much to ask of you,” I said, holding my head.

  “You didn’t ask,” she said softly. “I offered. I want to do this. It will help you, it will be fun for me, and hopefully they’ll enjoy it too.”

  I looked up at her, searching for some ulterior motive, which was ludicrous. Lara never seemed to do anything with a concealed purpose. And she was right, it would be a tremendous help to me.

  “You sure?” I asked.

  “We’ll have a great time,” she said. “I love your kids.”

  Then she disappeared down the basement stairs.

  When I drove up my parents’ driveway at four thirty, Olivia and Bennett were sitting in a plastic wading pool that I hadn’t seen since Spencer was a kid. I didn’t even know my parents still had it. They had spoons, measuring cups, and Cool Whip containers, and they were having a great time filling the cups and containers with water and splashing each other. Lara was at the side of the pool with my parents’ cell phone tucked under her ear, deep in conversation, as she filled the pool with more water. She must have stopped at my house to get the kids’ swimsuits.

  I got out of my car to the sound of laughter.

  “Mommy! Look! I can blow bubbles!” Olivia screwed up her eyes, stuck her face in the water, and blew air out of her nose. Then she lifted her face. “Lara said she can teach me how to swim!”

  I looked over at Lara, who smiled sheepishly.

  “Yes, Cleo, I will,” she was saying. “I miss you, too. Say hello to Ben for me. Bye.”

  She threw the hose away from the pool onto the grass and stood up, pressing the off button on the phone as she stood.

  “Cleo says hi,” she said.

  “Does she really?” I said, probably sounding more cynical that I intended.

  “Yes, she does,” Lara answered, meeting my gaze and slipping the phone into her pocket.

  “Lara is a light guard!” Olivia announced. “She can teach me to swim!”

  “I can blow!” Bennett said, putting his face in the water and blowing bubbles as well.

  “You’re a lifeguard?” I said to Lara.

  She nodded.

  “I just finished the last level in March. I taught a preschool swimming class in April,” she said. “It was a lot of fun.”

  “We want to go to the big pool,” Olivia said.

  “We need to ask Mom first,” Lara said to Olivia.

  My daughter looked up at me, hope shining on her wet face.

  “We can probably do that,” I said.

  “Can we go now?” Olivia said, hopping out of the wading pool.

  “How about tomorrow?” Lara said, handing her a towel and looking at me.

  “Sure, you can go tomorrow,” I said.

  I got my kids dried off and changed into dry clothes and then helped them get into the car.

  “The swimming thing was just an idea,” Lara said to me. “If you have made other arrangements for swimming lessons...”

  “No, I haven’t,” I said, feeling strangely at ease and yet apprehensive about Lara teaching Olivia how to swim. “Maybe tomorrow I can leave a little early and take Bennett off your hands when you take her.”

  “All right,” Lara said smiling.

  On the short drive home Olivia held up one of her Barbie dolls and told me her name wasn’t Barbie anymore. It was Lara.

  Lara took Olivia to the pool in town in the late afternoon on Tuesday and Thursday of that week, and the two of them spent more than an hour in the water both times. On Thursday I came to watch the last few minutes before the pool closed for the supper hour.

  Olivia was completely relaxed in Lara’s care and didn’t seem the least bit afraid of being in the water. It was so unlike the year before when I couldn’t get Olivia anywhere near the pool. I was both amazed and irritated that Olivia could lavish such trust upon a teenage girl she had known for only a month.

  I took Bennett outside to wait while the girls changed into dry clothes. We sat on a bench by a bunch of kids waiting for rides or for friends and siblings still inside. I was anxious to get home, and Lara and Olivia seemed to be taking forever. I kept looking at my watch like it would hurry them along. Finally they emerged.

  I stood up as they approached us. I didn’t even bother to try to hide my impatience, but neither of them seemed to notice.

  In fact, Lara’s attention was drawn to two nearby children fighting about who knows what. The older one, a boy, said something in Spanish to the other one, a younger girl. He was angry. He said something else and then laughed. Then he got on a bike and pedaled away. The little girl began to cry.

  Lara walked over to her, knelt down, and said something to the little girl in perfect Spanish. I had forgotten she lived in Ecuador for twelve years.

  I took French in high school, not Spanish, so I had no idea what she was saying. I heard Lara say “Mama,” and the little girl answered her.

  Lara said something else to the little girl, then stood up and held out her hand. The little girl took it, and they began to walk toward the pool admission win
dow.

  “I’ll be right back,” she called to me.

  I watched as Lara led the little girl to the office window. She explained something, and then the pool cashier handed Lara the handset of a phone. She talked into the phone for a few minutes, speaking Spanish the whole time. Then she handed the phone back, knelt down, and told the little girl something.

  The two of them walked back out to where we stood.

  “You guys can go on ahead,” she said. “I have my car here. I’m just going to wait until this little girl’s grandmother comes to get her.”

  “What’s up?” I said.

  “It seems her bicycle was stolen,” Lara said. “She’s not sure of the way home without her brother to show her the way. And he took off.”

  “We can wait,” I said, hardly knowing why. Lara did have her own car. I was going home after this, and so was she. But we waited.

  About ten minutes later an aging, gray sedan pulled into the parking lot, and an older woman stepped out of it.

  “Mi abuela,” the little girl said softly.

  Lara and the child walked over to the car, and Lara chatted with the woman in Spanish for a few minutes, stroking the back of the little girl’s head the whole time. Then the little girl got into the car, and Lara waved as they drove away.

  “What were you talking about?” I asked Lara when she walked back to where we waited.

  “I told her I could call the police for her, that her granddaughter’s bike had been stolen,” Lara said. “But she said she has a nephew who speaks English who can call for her.”

  I shook my head.

  “Where are that little girl’s parents?” I said gruffly, making my way to where our cars were parked side by side.

  “They’re in heaven,” Lara answered.

  On Friday, my kids wanted to be at their own house while Lara watched them. So at noon, Lara took them home.

  When I arrived later that afternoon, I was a little perturbed to see Seth’s car in the driveway alongside Lara’s.

  Nobody was in the yard or the house. As I headed toward the barn I heard Olivia and Bennett’s voices.

  The two of them were in the pen where Seth kept the lamb he was raising for the county fair. They were brushing it while the lamb ate. Seth and Lara were seated side by side on a hay bale.

  “Hi, Mommy,” Olivia said. “We’re brushing Spock.”

  “He’s eating,” Bennett chimed in.

  “I wasn’t sure where everybody was,” I said. “Hey, Seth. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  He just looked at me.

  “I always come on Friday afternoons to take care of Spock,” he said.

  He had me there.

  “I guess it is Friday, isn’t it?” I said.

  “Yeah, it is,” he said, standing.

  “I should probably go,” Lara said, as she rose also.

  “Can Lara sleep over?” Olivia said, handing the brush over to Seth.

  “Maybe another time, Olivia,” Lara said right away. “I’m going to help your Grandma Gerrity at the shop tonight, okay?”

  It was Friday. Jazz Night at Tennyson’s Table.

  I found out later Seth spent the evening there as well.

  The next day at Nicole’s brunch Seth and Lara disappeared as soon as the cheese soufflé was eaten. Mom gave me a look a few minutes later, and I went to see where they had gone.

  I found them on the deck in the backyard. She was sitting. He was pacing. I was indoors, and the air conditioner was humming merrily, so I had no idea what they were talking about. I didn’t know what else to do now that I’d found them, so I headed back to the kitchen.

  Mom and Nicole both looked at me when I came back.

  “Well?” Nicole said.

  “I’ll talk to Lara later,” I said.

  I came over to my parents’ house later that day with the kids and an old bookcase I bought some weeks earlier and was going to refinish at my parents’ place. It was a good enough reason to go over and talk to Lara.

  I asked her to help me bring the bookcase into the machine shed, which she cheerfully did. When we had set it down, I asked her if there was anything going on between her and Seth.

  “Going on?” she asked.

  “You know what I mean,” I said. And I was sure she did.

  She paused for a moment.

  “It’s not what you think,” she said. “Seth doesn’t need a girlfriend right now. He needs a friend. And he needs God.”

  “And you think you’re the one to lead him to God?” I said, feeling like I had just been lectured.

  She shrugged easily. “It doesn’t have to be me.”

  “What? But no one else is doing it?” I said, a little more miffed. I had spent countless hours trying to help Seth make sense of his life.

  “I don’t know what anyone else is doing, Kate. I don’t presume to know,” she said. “He just asked me about God. And he keeps asking me. He’s searching for answers.”

  “What were you two doing the night of the party when no one could find you?” I suddenly asked.

  She looked puzzled.

  “The night of the party?” she repeated.

  “When everyone was leaving, you and Seth came walking up from behind the barn.”

  Her eyes got wide as she realized what I was hinting at.

  “I was looking for Silhouette,” she said, clearly hurt. “He was just helping me.”

  So they were looking for her cat. I’m sure she was, but I had my doubts about Seth.

  “Look, Lara,” I said. “I’ve spent a lot of time with Seth. He is a born manipulator. He may just be using every opportunity to get you to fall for him.”

  Lara looked away. A tear slipped from one eye. She didn’t say anything for a few seconds.

  “I know you mean well, Kate,” she said softly. “And I know Seth has a lot of respect for you, but you will never get anywhere with him until you see him as more than just the sum of all his faults.”

  I was speechless.

  “Inside that tough guy is a little boy who was abandoned by his father, whose mother has pretty much given up on him, and who believes he isn’t worth the air he breathes,” she said, softer still. “God chooses to perfectly love the unlovely and the lovely alike, without hesitation,” she said, wiping the tear away. “Seth needs to know that. He has to know that, or he will destroy himself.”

  She turned and walked back toward the house.

  28

  Lara and Mom left for the Twin Cities on Monday morning so that Lara could catch a noon flight to Detroit. Mom asked me if I wanted to go with them, inviting me to do a little shopping with her and her friend Becky after Lara was safely on her flight, but I decided not to go. I told her I didn’t want to leave Nicole with the shop all to herself on a Monday, usually a busy day. But that wasn’t the real reason.

  The real reason was I felt uncomfortable around Lara, because part of me felt I owed her an apology. I hadn’t been alone with her since the episode in the machine shed at my parents’ house. She wasn’t mad at me, and I thought it would make a lot more sense if she were. It made me feel worse that she didn’t treat me differently. It was like we never had that conversation in the machine shed. In truth, I was kind of mad at her for accusing me of missing the boat with Seth. I wanted her to be mad at me for accusing her of having romantic feelings for him. But she wasn’t.

  Every day that week Olivia told me how much she missed Lara, and even Bennett started to moan about her not being around. I tried to keep up with Olivia’s swimming lessons at the community pool. I tried twice. But I “didn’t do it right.” Olivia didn’t want me to try and show her anything about swimming while Lara was away. And Michael started getting things ready for the county fair, an event many of his agriculture students were involved with, so I didn’t see him much that week.

  Everything seemed wrong while Lara was away, not “back to normal” like I thought it would be. And that aggravated me. Mom was moody at the shop, and ev
en Dad, the few times I saw him, seemed quiet and deep in thought. By Sunday, the day Lara was to return, everyone seemed anxious and distracted, like she was returning home from a year’s absence, not just a week’s.

  After Lara came home from Ann Arbor, the rest of July slipped away without incident, and August arrived, as hot and humid as ever. Lara seemed to have enjoyed her time with my grandparents, but I didn’t ask her much about it, and she didn’t volunteer any information. I asked her if she had a good time. She said she did. End of conversation.

  The county fair came and went, and Seth sold his blue-ribbon ewe to a local breeder. He kept the ribbon. I think it was the first time Seth had ever gotten an award for anything. He hung it over the rearview mirror of his car like a pair of furry dice.

  The Friday before Jennifer’s wedding, Mom, Dad, and Lara, together with Michael, our kids, and me, drove up to Red Wing to practice for the wedding and attend the rehearsal dinner. I was a little nervous about the whole thing. Jennifer was adamant from the beginning of her wedding plans that Olivia and Bennett should be the flower girl and ring bearer for the ceremony. I figured Olivia would do okay, but I wasn’t sure about Bennett. Not knowing for sure what he would do that Saturday—the day of the wedding—kept me from enjoying Friday.

  The rehearsal went okay, and the dinner, which was held at an old inn, was nice, but it was late when the kids got to bed, and I feared lack of sleep would just make things worse for me.

  On Saturday, Olivia was at the beauty salon by ten in the morning. She wanted Lara to take her. Part of me was slightly offended that she didn’t insist I come, and part of me was glad I could concentrate solely on keeping Bennett fed and rested.

  Pictures with the photographer began at noon and became rather tedious. The photographer came across as somewhat of a perfectionist, every pose seeming to take forever. I felt Lara was doing a much better job just taking candids. Everyone seemed to be relaxed and comfortable in front of her lens.

  At one o’clock, two hours before the wedding, I found a quiet place in the church’s nursery and rocked Bennett to sleep. I wanted him to have a nap under his belt before the ceremony began, even if it was just a short one. It took a while, but he finally gave in, and after he was sleeping soundly, I tiptoed out to see if I could find a Diet Coke.