“Your mom said you’ve had a lot of visitors,” he said. “I hope it’s okay that I came.”
“Of course it is,” I said. “We’re friends, aren’t we?” I wasn’t acting like myself, or maybe I was. Maybe the real me was grumpy and prickly after all.
“Yeah, we are,” he said. The gentleness in his tone made me feel great and terrible at the same time. I didn’t know what to do with him. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but at the moment I didn’t want to hear it. He was going to go off to the Valentine’s Day dance with a really cool girl. I was going to stay home with my broken leg. Even though only half of that was his fault, I was still really hurt and angry.
“Well, you’d better go get ready for the dance,” I said.
Ethan looked surprised, and then he looked hurt too. It didn’t feel as good as I expected. In fact, it felt terrible, but I still didn’t stop him. To my astonishment, he bent and gave me a quick hug. He was at the door before he turned back and said, “I still care about you a lot, Mikey.”
I wanted to call after him and tell him I was sorry. But I didn’t. I sat there feeling all kinds of bad and even more kinds of sad.
What with all my visitors, especially the last one, I was feeling drained. My dad carried me upstairs to my room and ordered me to take a nap. I tried, but my mind wouldn’t let me, even though my body was exhausted. I wished there was a switch that I could use to shut it off. I came down from my bedroom even more worn out than before.
My parents suggested calling Julie to cancel, but I didn’t. I really wanted to see Julie and talk to her. She has this peaceful, calming aspect about her. I don’t know what it is. It’s not just that she’s a quiet person, it’s something more than that.
When she arrived, Julie took one look at me and smiled sympathetically. “Maybe you should call it a night,” she said. “You look a little worn out.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling her!” my dad interjected, poking his head in the doorway. “Honey, you really should take it easy.”
“I will,” I said. “I won’t stay up too late. But if I go to bed now, I won’t be able to sleep. I might as well do something fun instead of lying there being mad.”
My dad left the room to make me a dinner tray. I felt bad about all the extra waiting on me my parents were doing, but it was kind of nice. They’d even farmed my brothers out to their friends’ houses for the afternoon. The quiet had been nice, though I knew they were about to descend upon us again at any moment.
“So what do you think all the people who are going to the dance are doing right now?” I asked Julie. “They’re probably starting to get ready.” I imagined what it would be like at the dance as the couples, all dressed up, started walking through the door and out onto the dance floor. The music, the dim light, the smell of dozens of different colognes and perfumes and peppermint gum . . . it would all smell and feel like possibility. I felt extra sorry for myself at that moment.
“I wonder what Ethan and Elizabeth are going to do on their date. Do you think he likes her? I still can’t believe he’s taking her instead of me. It’s so awful. And you’ll never believe what he said to me today. He said that he still likes me. I just can’t figure him out. We weren’t being exclusive; we weren’t doing bad stuff. I mean, we’ve kissed, but that’s all right, isn’t it? Why did he feel like he had to break up with me? Sometimes I’m so mad at him I almost hate him for being so confusing.”
Julie paused for a second or two before she spoke. What she said was not what I had expected to hear. “Mikey, you’re going to have to let go of all of this. He is being really confusing, but that’s because he’s really confused. He doesn’t want to get too serious because he doesn’t want to get hurt, so he’s going to the extreme of not dating you at all. There’s probably a lot going on with him right now with his dad moving back to town and stuff. But you can’t control any of those things. You’re just going to have to let it go for now and try to be his friend. What’s so bad about that? You two have been friends before.”
I couldn’t believe it. What kind of a response was that? From a best friend no less? “It’s bad because—” I couldn’t think of why it was bad for a moment, and then I started to cry. “It’s bad because it hurts so much. It’s too hard.”
Julie put her arm around me. “Mikey, do you remember what you told me when I said that there was no way I could be forgiven for what I’d done and for all the hate I had for my brothers? When I said that there’s no way I could get rid of all the pain? I know that it isn’t the same thing, but don’t you think that Jesus understands you, like you said He understands me, even though it’s different? Won’t Heavenly Father still help you because you’re hurting? Couldn’t you ask Him to help you?” She spoke hesitantly at first, and then with more and more assurance. “I’m sure you could. Look at everything that’s happened to you in the past few weeks. First Ethan, now your leg. I’m sure Heavenly Father wants to help you through this. I’m sure you could ask Him for help.”
Was I sure that I could? Was the answer to the void I was feeling really that simple? All these months I’d been telling Julie all about the gospel and about Jesus and our Father in Heaven. I’d been bringing her to activities and Church and meeting with her and the missionaries. Was I the world’s biggest hypocrite?
I believed everything I told Julie, I really did. But why hadn’t I thought to give it a try in my own life? Julie had had to tell me. Who really had a better understanding of the Savior’s love, Julie or me? Member or non-member? Was my testimony so fragile that a couple of tough events could snap it the way the impact of my foot against asphalt had snapped my leg?
Part of me didn’t want to pray about something so dumb. I resisted it. It was just a high school relationship and a broken leg, after all, and there were plenty of things going on in other places that were more serious, even though my heart was dark and my leg was aching.
Julie frowned thoughtfully. “Doesn’t Heavenly Father already know that you are hurting? You just have to ask Him for help. And then you can show Him that you appreciate His help by helping other people. Like you’ve helped me.”
I stared at her. Then I started laughing. “Julie,” I said, “I don’t think I’ve helped you to find out anything. I think you’ve known it all along.”
Julie smiled at me. “We’ve both known it all along, somewhere in our hearts. But that’s what friends do, right? We help each other remember.” She took something out from under the pile of movies she’d brought. “Do you want to practice ‘Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing’?” she asked, handing me the sheet music. “It always makes me feel better to sing this song. I can’t wait to sing it in church, which is really weird. Usually I’m too scared to look forward to things like that.”
I nodded. “I might cry through the whole thing, though,” I warned her. “I mean, really cry. You’ll just have to keep singing.”
She looked back at me. “It won’t be anything I haven’t done before,” she said seriously. “The crying, I mean.”
So we sang, and then we watched silly movies all night. After Julie left, I prayed for help. I didn’t pray that Ethan and I would start dating again, even though I thought about praying for that. I didn’t pray for my leg to be miraculously healed so I could have the track season of my life, even though I thought about praying for that too. Instead, I prayed that I would be able to trust in the Lord to help me through the month of February and on into the spring.
That was all.
That was a lot.
Chapter 17
March
Owen Thomas
I posted the results of the auditions for next year’s choirs on the door. Done. Let the complaining begin. One of the students who had made Chorale, the elite choir that we use in competition, stayed after class for a minute to talk to me. I was surprised because she’s a shy kid. She doesn’t really make a lot of eye contact with me and she’s very quiet in class. Even then, standing in front of me
, she seemed very nervous.
“I wanted to tell you, Mr. Thomas, that I really appreciate your not holding everything against me.”
“What do you mean, Julie?” I asked. I smiled at her as encouragingly as I could, because I could tell this was hard for her for some reason. Meanwhile, I frantically replayed the year in my mind, trying to remember her possible offense. Nothing came to mind.
“You’ve still treated me fairly and been really nice to me, and I really appreciate it, especially because of my brother,” she said. Her eyes were teary. “It’s made a big difference to me and I wanted to tell you that.”
I couldn’t figure what on earth she was talking about. Who was her brother? Was he an especially good singer? “It’s no problem,” I said, trying to put her at her ease. “I’m excited to have you in Chorale next year. You’re one of our best singers.” She smiled at me with something extra in the smile—could it be relief?—and left the room.
I mentioned it to my dad in passing that night, as we sat around the dinner table. I had thought it might be a difficult situation to teach at the same school as my father, but our departments are separate enough that it has worked out well. Plus I was the only candidate who applied for the job when Mrs. Durham retired last August, so no one could accuse the hiring committee of playing favorites. They had to take their only option. Dad and I joke about how I’m carrying on the proud tradition, but I think we both do feel a lot of pride behind all the teasing.
“Who is Julie Reid’s brother?” I asked my dad.
He was very still. “What brought that up?” he asked.
“Today she thanked me for being so nice to her in spite of her brother. She thanked me for not holding anything against her. I didn’t know what on earth she was talking about, so I just said it was no problem.”
“Owen,” my dad said quietly. “Julie Reid is Kevin Cox’s sister.”
Kevin Cox.
“What?” I breathed. “You can’t be serious.”
“It’s a blended family and Julie agreed to be adopted by her stepfather and take his last name. Kevin, who is a lot older, didn’t feel the same way, so he kept his name. I didn’t realize that his younger sister would be old enough by now to be in high school. I never actually taught Kevin but I’ve heard other teachers talk about the family in the teachers’ lounge. He had another brother who was a lot like him.”
“I put her in Chorale, Dad,” I said. “I had no idea she was related to him.”
“Is she a good enough singer to be in there?”
“She’s a beautiful singer. But I can’t have her in there now. I can’t teach looking at her every day, knowing that . . .”
“Knowing what?” my father asked.
“Knowing that her brother killed Mom,” I said angrily. If he needed it spelled out, so be it.
He flinched a little at the use of the word “killed,” but he is familiar enough with my anger and with his own sorrow to recover quickly. He lives with both every day. “Owen, Julie didn’t have anything to do with that.”
“I don’t think that matters,” I snapped. “Should I have to look at her every day and think about what happened over and over again?”
“She already thinks you’ve forgiven her. She thinks you’ve been able to look past that and see what she is, not what her brother is. She has probably been saddled with his reputation all her life and then to have a fresh chance from you of all people—can you imagine how that must feel to her? It’s no wonder she stayed after today to thank you even though it must have been hard for her.”
“I can’t keep her in Chorale next year. It’s going to be hard enough to get through the rest of this one, now that I know. I’ve got to find some way to fix this.” My voice was louder than I’d anticipated. “I can’t believe that I didn’t know.”
“I shouldn’t have told you. I thought you were enough of a man to forgive someone for a crime they didn’t commit.”
And with that Parthian shot, he left me alone at the table.
I only saw Kevin Cox once. The case was so obvious, with so many witnesses, that our family hadn’t needed to testify. The prosecutor asked us once if we would; it would gain a lot of sympathy, he said. My father silenced him with a look.
On the day of the sentencing, though, I did go to court. I was the only member of my family who went. Evan wanted to go, but my dad talked him out of it, telling him that it was not going to bring the kind of closure Evan was looking for. Ryan didn’t want to go at all and, of course, neither did my father.
But I was feeling angry and vengeful, and I wanted to see that Kevin Cox paid the maximum price for what he did, even though any price paid could not possibly be enough. Even though my father didn’t agree with my going, he didn’t try to prevent me.
Kevin Cox slouched in his chair. He didn’t look as villainous as I had expected, especially from his mug shot, but he also didn’t look like a saint. Looking back, I can see a slight resemblance to Julie, but none so obvious that I would notice it based on appearance alone. Kevin didn’t seem to see me at all. I was just a few years older than he was; our paths had probably crossed in the grocery store or when we were in high school.
When the sentence was given, his face showed a twinge of some emotion—I’m not exactly sure what. He turned to his lawyer, who whispered something to him. I didn’t wait to see him led out. I had put a face to my mother’s death and it was one I could safely hate. He hadn’t cried, he hadn’t offered a heartfelt apology for what he’d done. He had made it easy for me to keep on hating him. I had made it easy for myself.
The day after Julie’s revelation, I sat in Principal Downing’s office. “I need to ask if I can give Ms. Claythorne the Chorale class next year,” I said.
“What?” she said, surprised. “Why would you do that? It doesn’t make any sense. She’s part-time, you’re full-time, you have more musical background, and the Chorale group is the best of the best. It’s not adding up.”
“I know,” I said. “It’s for personal reasons. I realize I’m asking a lot as a first-year teacher, but I really would rather not be in charge of Chorale next year.”
“You’re going to have to give me a little more to go by for me to even consider making such an unprecedented change.”
“There’s a student in one of my classes and her brother is the one who’s in jail for killing my mother.” Is that personal enough for you, Principal Downing? I thought harshly.
Her face changed. “I can’t imagine,” she said slowly. “But you made it through this year with her—why is it a problem now?”
“I didn’t actually know who she was until yesterday,” I said. “She stayed after class to tell me that she appreciated my not punishing her for what her brother did, I guess, and I ended up figuring it out from there.”
“Owen,” Principal Downing said, “I can’t imagine how difficult this is for you and it’s none of my business, but this seems to me like an opportunity worth taking. This student has done nothing wrong and thinks that you are willing to look past everything and see who she is for herself. Don’t you think you can try to understand her, even though you may never understand—or forgive—him?”
She sounded like my dad. I told her I would think about it and left. I was afraid I would say something I’d regret. What does she know about this kind of thing?
In class, I tried to be as normal as possible with Julie, and it didn’t seem like anyone noticed anything. But it was hard; it wasn’t something I’d like to do on a daily basis for the next year.
Even though I was still angry with him, and he with me, I relayed my conversation with Principal Downing to my father that night. We were sitting in the study at our opposing desks, working on our lesson plans for the next day.
“She has a very good point,” he said quietly, looking across at me. “And she knows a little about working through forgiveness herself. Did you know, Owen, that her cancer was initially misdiagnosed? She could have been given a much better progno
sis and not endured the double mastectomy and all the chemotherapy if her doctor hadn’t missed an obvious problem.”
“I didn’t know that,” I said. “I knew she had cancer because of that special faculty meeting at the beginning of the year, but that’s all I’ve heard about it.” Then I got mad enough that he would throw her example in my face that I decided to ask him something I’d wanted to for a while. I didn’t care if it hurt him or invaded his privacy.
“That’s another thing,” I said. “How do you know so much about Principal Downing? Are the two of you dating? I know you’ve been out together before. Is that how you found out that she’s a paragon of forgiveness?”
“We’ve been to dinner twice; I wouldn’t call that dating. And, no, I don’t think she’s perfect, but she is a very good human being.” He looked down at his desk for a moment, and when he looked up, his voice was tight. “I am still mourning your mother, but Lindsay understands what it feels like to have a hard time moving on from something difficult, and I appreciate the understanding we have.” He cleared his throat and paused for a moment.
I didn’t break the silence, ashamed of my outburst.
“She’s not telling you to do something she hasn’t herself done, Owen. I know she’s been very angry with her first doctor and she’s had a hard time working through that. She’s been focusing on some of the good things that have come out of it, like a greater appreciation for each day.”
“It’s not the same situation. I’m not saying hers is easier; I’m saying it’s not the same.”
“That’s true,” my dad said. “ But it’s still something to consider as you’re figuring out what to do. I’ll be honest with you, Owen. My motive in wanting you to let this go is purely selfish. It has a little to do with wanting Julie to be happy, but mostly it has to do with you.”
“What do you mean, Dad? I can get another job. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if I went to work somewhere else.”
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