Meant to Be

by Melody Carlson

  Now my mom comes and stands by me. “Oh my, look at all those pretty diamonds.” She bends down to see better.

  “We're having a holiday sale,” entices the older man,turning his attention from me to her. ‘Twenty percent off until Christmas Eve.”

  She nods and continues looking. This is kind of odd since my mom's not exactly the expensive jewelry type. At least I never thought she was. But maybe I wasn't paying attention.

  “I didn't know you were into diamonds,” I say to my mom.

  “Oh, you two are together,” the man says with a surprised look. Of course, I'm used to this reaction— people see the Asian girl with the Caucasian woman and wonder how or if we're related. Anyone out there ever hear of international adoption? Okay, don't get me going.

  But Mom just smiles at him and proudly says, “Yes, this is my daughter.”

  “In that case, I might be tempted to offer an even bigger discount if you both find something you like.”

  My mom actually giggles, which is really kind of cute. “Oh, no, I'm not a diamond sort of person. Well, other than my engagement ring.” She looks fondly at her left hand. “But Kim, how about you? Do you like diamonds?”

  “I, uh—”

  “I was just telling the young lady that she should consider some earrings,” says the fast-thinking salesman.

  “Yes, diamond earrings! That would be perfect!”

  “Mom?” I look at her as if I'm looking at a stranger. “You don't need to—”

  “Can we look at that tray?” My mom points to a display of earrings and ignores me.

  He pulls out the tray while I protest to my mom about the extravagance of diamond earrings for a girl my age.

  “Please, Kim,” she finally says. “Just indulge me.”

  This makes the man laugh. “Yes, Kim, just indulge her.”

  Before I know it I am trying on diamond earrings, and despite myself I am having fun. And as much as I hate to admit it, it does feel rather glamorous.

  “Okay,” Mom says after I've looked at several pairs. “You go out into the mall while I make up my mind.”

  “Mom? I thought we were just having fun.”

  She looks at me then smiles. “I thought that's what we were doing too. Now, you scoot.”

  Okay, I have no doubts that she's getting me diamond earrings for Christmas, and as exciting and fun as that sounds, it also makes me seriously uncomfortable. Like why is she doing this? Why is she spending so much money when she usually clips coupons and buys us practical gifts for Christmas? But I know I can't make too big of a deal about it—not without the risk of spoiling her fun anyway. And I don't want to do that.

  She emerges with a big grin, and I pretend like I have no idea what just transpired in there.

  We do a bit more shopping, but I can tell Mom's getting tired, so I ask her if she's ready to eat lunch yet.

  “Yes. Let's go to Rafael's.”

  “Rafael's? What? Did you win the lottery or something?”

  “Oh, Kimmy. It's okay to indulge ourselves occasionally.”

  “But you don't have to do this for—”

  “I want to, Kim. Can't you see that I'm having a good time? I just want to enjoy this day, sweetheart. Do you mind?”

  I shake my head. “Of course not. I'd love to go to Rafael's. I've heard it's awesome. But do you think we need reservations or anything?”

  “I doubt it. At least not during the day.”

  So we head back out to the parking lot, and I drive us over to the other side of the mall where you can only get into this restaurant from an outside entrance. “This is really cool, Mom.” I hold the door open for her.

  The restaurant has soft music playing and small tables with pristine white cloths, as well as candles and fresh flowers on each one. Very elegant.

  Soon we are seated, and I must admit that I'm feeling pretty special. I mean, diamond earrings and Rafael's all in one day. But even though this is fun, I can't help but feel that its all overshadowed by Mom's recent diagnosis. I'm certain we wouldn't be doing this if everything was just fine. And the truth is, I would gladly trade diamonds and Rafael's for “just fine” any day.

  After the waiter takes our orders, my mom tells me that she “wants to talk.” And I can tell by the way she says this that this is somewhat serious. And suddenly I feel as if there's a brick in the pit of my stomach, and I doubt that I'll be able to eat a single bite.

  “Sure, Mom,” I say, trying to sound casual. “What about?”

  “About us.” She takes a sip of water. “I just want to set some things straight, Kim. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “I realize that you're worried about me and, well, the cancer. But I really wish that you could just push it out of your mind.”

  “Push it out of my mind?”

  She nods. “That's what I'm trying to do. I'm focusing on health and Wellness. I'm doing everything I can, and I want to just enjoy life. Whether I live to be a hundred or buy the farm next week. Can you understand that?”

  “Well, yeah, I guess.

  “And that's how I want you to live too. I don't want you to change anything because of me. Do you understand what I mean?”

  “I'm not sure.”

  “I want you to go about your life as if everything is normal, Kim. And for all we know, it is. Right?”

  I remember what Natalie told me about how I need to take the step of faith with my mom in order to encourage her. So I say, “Right.”

  “like you've been saying, Kim, God can heal me. Don't you believe that?”

  “Yes,” I say with a bit more enthusiasm. “I do believe that He can. And I'm praying, and lots of people are praying.”

  She smiles now. “See that's just what I mean. We need to believe that Gods in control of our lives and not to worry so much.”

  “I know…”

  “And I want you to make me a promise, Kim.”

  “What?”

  “Promise me that you'll keep doing all your normal things—whether it's spending time with Nat or your music or your column or even spending time with Matthew. Promise me that everything will continue to be ‘life as normal.’ Can you do that for me?”

  I slowly nod. “Okay.”

  “Because that's what will make me the most happy. Do you believe me?”

  I nod again, holding back tears. And I really do believe her. But for the first time I realize that I must have been bringing her down by moping around these past few weeks. I thought I was concealing it pretty well, but I guess she saw right through my little charade. From now on, I will put on a happy and faithful face. And I'll pray and pray and pray. Maybe this is what Nat meant by taking that first step. I can do this. I force myself to eat, as if everything is perfectly normal and I'm not worried about a thing.

  We have a good lunch, and Mom actually begins to open up and tell me about things that happened when she was my age. It's the first time I've ever heard her talk about stuff like that, and I must admit that its pretty interesting. I mean, I guess I never thought about Mom being a teenager. It's like I think she's always been this rather conservative middle-aged woman I've taken pretty much for granted. But as she tells me about the time she participated in an antiwar protest at her coflege, I can see that I really don't know her as well as I thought.

  “Seriously?” I say as we indulge in calorie-laden desserts. “You were a war protester?”

  She smiles and nods. “I never thought we should've been in Vietnam.”

  “Wow, that's pretty cool. Did you get arrested?”

  She laughs now. “No, but I was willing to go to jail and was actually kind of disappointed that I didn't.”

  So, go figure!

  Later on that evening, after I'd talked to Matthew, assured him that I still wanted to go skating, and promised that we'd do it tomorrow, I decided that I'd better crank out another “Christmas” letter for the column. After going through the pile I found this.

  Dear Jamie,

  My
little brother is five years old and was acting like a typical little brat yesterday, and I got so irritated at him that I told him there was no Santa Claus, and I went on and on about it. Well, you should've seen his face-it was like Td murdered someone. Now I feel really guilty and don't know what to do. Any suggestions?

  Santa Spoiler

  Dear Spoiler,

  Since your little brother is only five, it might be possible to undo this. Why not just tell him that it was only because of your anger that you told him Santa was a fake? Tell him that you were just trying to make him feel bad and then tell him you're sorry-since that's actually the truth. And maybe this will help him to understand that people sometimes say mean things when they're feeling tritated. Hopefully he'll forgive you and get to enjoy the whole Santa thing for a little longer.

  Just Jamie

  Three

  Friday, December 23

  I've spent this week doing “normal” things, trying to act as if everything is just fine and I'm not the least bit worried about Mom. It was hard at first, and I found myself wanting to make up excuses just to hang out at home and stay close to Mom. But then I'd remind myself of the promise I'd made her at Rafael's, and because of that, I went ahead and forced myself to do regular stuff with my friends.

  On Tuesday, I went ice skating with Matthew, and it was really pretty fun. He fell down about a zillion times, and I was certain he was going to break something before we were done. But he finally got the hang of it and actually liked it. We re going to go again next week, maybe invite some friends.

  But the whole while I was skating with Matthew and mostly enjoying myself, I had this nagging guilty feeling…like I shouldn't be having so much fun or I should leave and go home to be with my mom. And I suppose that took some of the fun out of the day. But when I got home, my mom was just fine, and she seemed really glad that I'd had a fun day. And Matthew came in and visited and chowed down about a dozen Christmas cookies, and everything felt almost normal.

  As the week progressed, it became easier to go and do regular stuff, but there's always this underlying feeling that something's wrong. Like I shouldn't be out having a good time. Then I remember my promise.

  “Did you get Matthew anything for Christmas?” my mom asked me last night.

  Now for some reason this idea hadn't even crossed my mind. I mean, I like Matthew, and we've sort of been dating, although it s not serious. But suddenly I wondered if I should've gotten him something. And if so, what?

  “No,” I told my mom, acting like it was no big deal. “We're mostly just friends, you know.”

  She nodded as if she understood, but when I went to my room, I immediately called Nat and asked her opinion on the matter.

  “I don't know…” she began.

  “It's not like we're serious or anything.”

  “Yeah. And you might feel stupid if you got him something and he acted all surprised and uncomfortable, like he hadn't gotten you anything.”

  I considered this. “That would be pretty embarrassing.”

  “On the other hand.

  “What if he got me something?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “That could be awkward.”

  “Maybe I should get a kind of back-up gift in case he does get me something,” I said. “Then I could pull it out and look like I had it together too.”

  “But you wouldn't have to give it to him if he didn't get you anything.”

  “Right.”

  “The back-up gift,” Nat said in a dramatic tone.

  “You sound like a ‘Seinfeld’ character,” I teased.

  So that's why Nat and I made the fateful decision to hit the mall just two days before Christmas. And man, was the place packed! When we walked past Dolman's, I couldn't help but spill the beans on what my mom had gotten for Christmas.

  “No way,” said Nat. “You're getting diamond earrings?”

  “Well, I'm not positively sure. But there's a pretty good chance.”

  “You are so lucky.” Then a shadow crossed her face, as if she'd suddenly remembered about my mom's cancer. But fortunately she didn't mention it, and I told her about the pocket watch for my dad.

  “That's so romantic.”

  “So what should I get for Matthew?” I looked both ways down the crowded mall.

  “What does he like?”

  I shrugged. “I guess I really don't know him that well. Other than art. Oh, he likes science fiction books, but I have no idea which ones he's read. And I know what music groups he likes, but I don't know what CDs he has. Plus he thinks he's getting an MP3 player for Christmas.”

  “How about some art stuff?”

  “Yeah. And I could get something that I like just in case I don't need the back-up gift.”

  “Or else save the receipt and bring it back later.”

  “Great plan, Nat.”

  So it is that I get Matthew a sketch pad, some charcoal, pencils, and a few other things. He probably has stuff like this already, but I figured it was something he could use eventually since these things run out.

  “What did you get your mom for Christmas?” Nat asked when we stopped to get drinks.

  “I kind of splurged,” I admitted. An understatement since most of my Christmas shopping money went for this one gift.

  “What?” she demanded.

  “Cashmere.”

  “No way!”

  I nodded. “Yep. I got her a sweater set at Malones.”

  “Wow, she's gonna love it. What color?”

  “It's kind of a periwinkle.”

  “Very cool.”

  I didn't tell Nat that this meant I had to skimp on her gift this year. But I have a feeling she'll understand. Besides, she's been saying that she wanted a photo album, and I even put a few old pictures of her and me in it. Hopefully that will make up for it. And in a way its probably a good thing, since I know how strapped Nat s been lately. She barely had enough money to get her own family anything for Christmas this year. She'd been hoping her dad would send her some money, but as usual he flaked out on her.

  “Hey, isn't that Chloe Miller over there?” Nat said just as I was finishing up my soda.

  I glanced over my shoulder to see that she was right. And there were Affie and Laura too. We hollered and waved then hurried over to see our famous friends.

  “We just got back from our Christmas tour last night,” Chloe said. “Man, it's so great to be home! How are you guys anyway?”

  “We're doing great,” said Natalie. “It's so totally cool to see you here today.”

  “I can't believe you decided to fight the crowds at the mall on your first day back home,” I said. “If I were you, I'd be home sleeping.”

  “We had to do some last-minute Christmas shopping.” Affie held up several bulging bags.

  “How was your tour?” I asked.

  “Awesome,” Laura said, and then all three of them started telling us about where they'd been and the bands that had performed with them, including Iron Cross, which was actually pretty impressive.

  “What a life!” Nat said dreamily.

  “Maybe we should become their groupies,” I teased her. “We could follow Redemption all over the country and—”

  “That'd be like so totally nuts!” said Affie.

  “Yeah,” Chloe agreed. “Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to be on the road like that? I mean, parts of it are fun, but there are times when we all would give anything to sleep for a few days.”

  We talked some more, but I could tell these girls were itching to finish up their shopping, and then they probably wanted to go home to rest. In fact, they all seemed pretty worn out, and Affie had these dark circles beneath her eyes, which got me worried that she might be sick again. She had a pretty hard case of mono last fall, and I wonder if she's really over it yet.

  “We should let you guys go,” I told them.

  “Will we see you at church tomorrow night?” asked Chloe.

  “I'm not sure,” I admitted. “I mean,
I'd really like to be at Faith Fellowship on Christmas Eve, but I should probably go to the service at my parents’ church this year.”

  Then Chloe s face got serious, and she put her hand on my arm. “Oh, Kim, I just remembered. I was so sorry to hear about your mom. Josh e-mailed me about it a couple weeks ago. That's got to be so tough.”

  “But we've all been praying for her,” Laura said hopefully.

  “Thanks,” I told them. “We're all praying for a miracle.”

  “God can do it,” Affie assured me. “He can do anything, Kim. We just gotta believe Him.” Then we all hugged and went our different ways.

  “Those girls are so cool,” Nat said as we headed toward the parking lot. “I mean, here they are all rich and famous, and they still just act like regular girls. Just ordinary people like us.”

  “Yeah, they're pretty cool.”

  And once we were in my Jeep, I played Redemption's latest CD, and Nat and I listened to it all the way home. They really are good!

  “We're heading to my grandma's first thing in the morning,” Nat told me when I stopped in front of her house to let her out. “So I probably won't see you until later next week.”

  “Have a good time,” I told her, although she was frowning, and I realized how she really wasn't looking forward to this trip. Her grandma and mom get into it sometimes, and I've heard their family gatherings can get kind of stressful.

  “Well, at least Gram has a computer now.” She reached for her purse. “Maybe I can e-mail you all the gory details.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, keep me posted. Merry Christmas!”

  “Yeah, back at you!” she yelled as she closed the door and headed up the driveway where her little brother Micah was trying to skateboard but looked more like an accident waiting to happen.

  So I reminded myself to pray for Nat and her family as I drove down the street toward my house. I mean, she's been praying for my mom to get well on a daily basis, but it hardly ever occurs to me to be praying for them, and I know that they have it pretty tough.

  I was kind of glad that Nat and I had already exchanged our gifts, agreeing not to open them until Christmas. Not that I'm embarrassed by what I got her, but I guess it's not as impressive as most years. I hope she understands.