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©2018 by Helen Donovan. All rights reserved. MANUSCRIPT to Elizabeth on Jan 29, 2018,

Helen Donovan

2919 W. Giddings St.,

Chicago, IL 60625,

773-588-5616

email: helendonovan@ Words: 61,633 Pages: 224

You Never Know

by

Helen Donovan

Chapter 1

Crap. —Sshe’s up., Tthe living room lights are on. That’s what she does when she has something on her mind and wants to talk and it’s 2:30 in the morning. Oh, Olga, tThis is a lousy time for a chat., I’m wiped out after, almost a week at the table. MyThis downswing lasted way too long, even though while I sat there playing damn good poker, until, when at last, there they were, four ladies. Tthe cards finally turned my way—four ladies. Not bad…I walked away with 100K after replenishing my bank. Not bad.

Man, I need a shower and a bed. Maybe my luck is holding and, she forgot to turn off the lights, she’s sound asleep. Nope.Oops, Sshe’s on the front porch, waving to me.

Be a pal, God, make whatever is on her mind quick and easy.

I get out of the car. Be a pal God, make whatever is on her mind quick and easy. I and breathe in the cool night air., I give her a quick kiss on the cheek and follow her into our house. She’s been crying.

“Why are you up at this hour?”

“Oh, Harry, it’s Wimmer!. He’s got me so worried I can’t sleep. He’s the worst administrator the hospital has ever had. You remember. Eunice is retiring, and he hasn’t yet told me I’ll get the promotion. I’m so worried. She told me yesterday that he interviewed some man from the outside. I deserve that job, not some outsider. I have seniority. I’m more than qualified so why—”

Hell, I forgot all about that. The odds are against her. It took her a month to get over the rejection when she was passed over for Manager of the Patient Testing Center a few years ago for the Manager of the Patient Testing Center. If she’s passed over again, the timing for the bad news couldn’t be worse. I’ve got to tell her.…

“Harry, did you hear me? Say something.”

I hug her.

“I heard you, I remember. Let’s sit on the sofa., I’m beat. Maybe Wimmer is slow, maybe an outsider is a rumor.”

“No, Eunice knows everyone’s business and there’s no predicting what that piece of work will do.”

“What did he say when you applied?”

“He said, ‘Tthank you, Olga,’ like he never saw me before in his stupid life.”

“Did he tell you when he’d make the decision?”

“No, but he must decide soon. Eunice needs time to observe me before she leaves and—…”

“…Don’t get your hopes too high.”

“Harry! Don’t you think I’ll get the promotion? How could you!?”

I take her hands in mine. I feel like hell when she cries. “I hope you get the job. You know that. But it’s not the end of the world if you don’t. If you’re prepared for possible bad news, the downer won’t be as painful as the last time.”

“If that man brings someone in from the outside I swear I’ll quit!. That’s what I’ll do. I’ll quit.”

“No, you won’t. You’re too smart to do something that stupid and throw away 16 sixteen years. Have a Kleenex.”

“Thanks. I don’t need the box. Put it back on the end table.”

“We can’t control Wimmer, can we?”

“There’s always murder.”

I haved to smile at that.

“So, if we rule out murder, all you can do is wait. Try to be patient, sSis.”

“I guess. Oh, you’re rubbing your eyes. You’re exhausted and I didn’t even ask you about your game.”

“I’m good., Alex Farnsworth held the game.”

Her eyes lightt up when I sayid that.

“The actor?”

“None other. He’s not a bad poker player.”

“Where were you?”

“Palm Springs. I’m beat…”

“Thanks for putting up with me.”

“I’m beat. I’m calling it a night. Try not to worry.”

“I’ll try, but you know how I worrydo. See you in the morning.”

“Not if I can help it.” I give her a big hug before heading down the hall to my bedroom, hoping, praying she gets that damn job. —Ssoon. I can’t put off telling her what I’m going to do any longer.

***

Harry would probably sleep through an earthquake this morning, but I close the front door quietly behind me, just in case. He’s the best brother in the world., Has nnever let me down, even when we were kids. And he’s right about Wimmer. All I can do is wait, which is driving me crazy. I’m sure Eunice recommended me. Why wouldn’t she? She isn’t bright though. Last week when we were talking she didn’t even know where Belize is.

I turn the air on high in the car. T, traffic’s light as. I pass Grove Park, which I do every morning., Mwhoa, moms and kids are there already. MAh, maybe I’ll get the good news today. I park next to the elevator and am down on the first floor in no time and do a double take.

When I pass Patient Testing Center’s waiting area, I do a double take—there are plants. Where did they come from? They’re beautiful. Mauna Loa with —big green leaves in bright green pots. If only the county would upgrade the whole waiting area. When I’m manager, I’ll have the walls painted blue or pink instead of depressing gray, and petition the board and for more money to replace the beat-up mahogany coffee table, the lumpy overstuffed chairs, the and beige plastic couches.

Phooey., I put the magazines by the front door so I’d remember to bring them this morning butand walked right past them. Well, tomorrow out-patients will have something to read that’s only two weeks old instead of six months. Oh, today has to be my day for the good news. What? He’s up, it’s a text from Harry.

Mmeet me @ noon 4 lunch @ phil’s must talk to u

A text from Harry. How nice. We haven’t had lunch together for a long time. …Wait. Hhe must talk? What’s so important that it can’t wait till tonight? Lately he has been distant, preoccupied. Probably because of the downswing in his luck. He gets a little moody when thatey happens.

I put on the green coat, my name badge, and slip mythe iPhone in the pocket. It’s going to be a busy boob day judging by the lines of people in front of the counter where Harriet and Polly are entering out-patientoutpatient’s data on the computer. Once registered, off they go to the waiting area until Eunice calls their names. Not everyone is here for a mammography. Some need a blood test, MRI, Ultrasound, or EKG.

Eunice is at her desk behind the counter, staring at the computer screen. She’s really prissy looking. Not a white hair on her head would dare move, her makeup meticulously applied, and not a chip in the pink nail polish.

“Morning., Hhave you heard from Wimmer?”

“Not a word, Olga.”

“I thought he, or maybe you, would call me at home yesterday with the good news.”

“I’m sure we’ll be hearing soon.”

Eunice calls Mrs. Daniels over the microphone. I chill!

I’ll be doing that! soon.

“Good morning, Mrs. Daniels,” I say. She’s easy to remember. She always wears a god-awful print dress. This time it’s with big purple pansies.

“Has the barbarian mammo been replaced yet?” she asks, unsmiling.

“No, but it could be with all the technology we have. Unfortunately, insurance companies only pay for this one, the cheapest.”

“Hooray for their bottom line and to hell with patients.”

“The test saves lots of lives.…” I agree with her about the insurance companies, but I’d never saying so. You have to be careful what you say in the hospital.

The morning flew. I’m a tad late getting to Phil’s Food Place, which is always crowded being only a block from the hospital. The food’s okay, service isn’t. One thing I like is the red table clothstablecloths, which seem to make the fresh white daisies especially pretty. Where’s that big brother of mine? Why is he sitting at athe table back there in the corner when our usual table by the window is open?

I sit in the chair he pulls out for me.

“This is a nice surprise. You look better than you did last night.”

“I went back to bed after I texted you.”

“Why aren’t we at our table?”

“It was occupied when I got here. Your usual, …Caesar salad?”

“Yes, and you’ll have your usual, walleye. One of these days let’s stop the world and order something different.” That’s odd. H, he’s avoiding my glance. “Are you in a hurry? Do you have a game here in Vegas?”

“Yes, in an hour. I won’t be around for a few days.”

“No surprise there. I hope Wimmer gives me the good news today. Stop frowning. I’m worried enough for both of us.”

“I hope you hear today too, only that’s not why we’re here.”

He sounds, I don’t know, different, edgy.

“I know!,” I say, “wWe’re here because you want my fascinating company,” I say, expecting him to laugh. Nbut nada. He’s fidgeting with the silverware. Is something wrong?

“Olga, I… .” He’s fidgeting with the silverware. “Olga, you know I love you.”

Why is he saying that? Something’s wrong., I have a bad feeling.

“I love you too, Harry. Why so serious all of a sudden? You’re the best brother in the world, you compliment seeker,” I say lightheartedly, waiting for him to smile. He doesn’t., “Why so serious all of a sudden?”

Hhe’s takesing my hands in his and, foreboding fills me.

“You know how long and how deeply I feel about Jasmin.”

A ten-ton truck hits me!. He’s looking me straight in the eye. He isn’t—he couldn’t. I flutter my eye lasheseyelashes at him, smiling. “If we’re having lunch to talk about that woman I’m going to be ill. Does she have a fatal disease?”

“Don’t be sarcastic, Olga.”

“The only thing that dumb blonde has to offer you is spreading her—…”

“Stop it. You and I have had a good ten years. What I’m going to do will impact your life so look at me. You must have realized someday I would marry Jasmin.”

No! He can’t be saying that. He can’t…I can’t breathe. I’ve been scared to death he’d walk out on me and marry that woman!. “You can’t be serious. Don’t do this, Harry, it’s a terrible mistake!.”

He’s stroking my cheek.

“Olga, you know I don’t want to hurt you. —Yyou’re pale. Are you all right?”

“Of course, I’m not all right. I can see you now, playing catch with her dumb kid believing that some guy that bimbo calls Frank Gilbert is the kid’s father. How stupid are you?”

“You’re mad and hurt and I get that, but our fighting isn’t going to change anything. I’ve paid off our house and deeded my half to you, it’s free and clear. You’ll always have a place to live, and it’s a good investment for your future.”

“Future, what future? Should I grovel? How thankful should I be to my generous big brother? I don’t want anything to do with her or her kid!.”

“You won’t have to, please calm down. I haven’t finished, please calm down.”

“Well pardon me all to hell. I’ll sit here like a purring kitten watching you ruin your life.”

“There isn’t any easy way to tell you, sSis. Jasmin, Jackie and I will be leaving soon after the ceremony to live in Chicago.”

“What?” I almost scream. “You’re not only going to marry that woman you’ll be two thousand miles away!? What about me? What am I going to do? Why Chicago? What’s wrong with staying here?, Oor if you want to move there’s Los Angeles, San Francisco—…”

“Jasmin’s mom lives there in a large home and she can’t live alone any longer.”

“Oh, you’re marrying a mommy’s girl., Sso hire a caregiver!.”

“Jasmin wants to care for her mother herself, which is fine with me. I’ll be back frequently, and I’ll call, text, or email you every week. Sso you see, my moving is not the end of the world.”

He’s really leaving me. What’s going to happen to me? My stomach rages. I visualize the two of them huddled together, talking, making their secret plans for weeks, months behind my back. My stomach rages.

“To hell with you!”

“We’re going to be married at the Wilson Chapel. I hope you’ll be at our wedding.”

“I wouldn’t miss your glorious event for anything in the world, assuming I find my pills for nausea.”

“That razor mouth of yours is your worst enemy.”

“At least you won’t be married in the eyes of the Catholic Church. Y, so you can remarry when you dump that who—...”

“Olga, that’s nonsense.”

He’s taking my hands again.

“Olga, that’s nonsense.”

I grab my purse., I’ve got to get out of here. He’s leaving me! What’s going to happen to me? He’s followsing me as . I run toward the door, just missing hitting a waiter.

“Olga, wait.…”

“Get away from me!”

I’m outside. I don’t remember taking the elevator or how I got into the car. My head is on the steering wheel, tears pouring down my face. What am I going to do without him? He’s always been there for me, always. I want you Harry to be happy, Harry, truly I do. But I’ll be alone day after day, night after night, year after year. No more sunrise talks, no more strategy poker strategy tales, no more, no more…, nothinganythingness. I’m so scared. I don’t want to be all alone!. I’m so scared.

I’ve got to stop crying. I’ve got to, go back to work. I can’t hide here much longer. People are coming and going, someone will see me. Where’s mythe damn compact!? My eyes are puffy, maybe somethe powder will help.… Nope, that didn’t work. I’ll wait a few minutes.

I take a good look in the mirror. I’m plain. You’ll I’ll never have a husband. No one’s out there for youme, never has been.

The men I’ve met…all losers. It’s too late for me. The prerequisite rule for breathing is to be young, thin and beautiful. Why can’t I be beautiful like Jasmin?. Harry is handsome. She and Harry have everything. Everybody has everything. What have I got? Nothing!. It’s not fair!. And I’m not going to stop feeling sorry for myself by reciting the litany of things I should be grateful for in this stinkin’ life!. Why should some people have everything and others nothing? Why can’t I have an adoring husband and family? T, travel in luxury, buy clothes in the most expensive shops in the world, have people fall all over me the minute I walk into a hotel lobby?.

Or I couldan die.

I can park the car at home in the garage, close the door, turn on the motor and die. I could do that. Yes, I could do that but—Harry. I see him crying. I can’t hurt himyou like that. It’s not his fault. CDon’t start crying again! but I can’t help it. I’m entitled to a life. I’m not going to take it anymore. What aren’t you going to take anymore? I don’t know. I’m entitled to a life, to be somebody. I get out of the car, slam the door and glance out the window next to the elevator and see Harry leaving the restaurant.

***

I feel like shit. I ought to know Olga will be Olga. Where did I get theat stupid idea she’d

control her reaction if I told her in a public place? If only she would accept Jasmin and Jackie. That’s a pipe dream. For me, they are the best hand I’ve ever held. I fell in love the first time I saw that pretty, skinny blonde smiling at me from behind the cashier’s window in the casino. What Olga needs is some alone time, to let the dust settle, to realize this isn’t the end of the world.

But oOn second thought, she is extremely upset.

I had planned on taking a short break around six and to make a quick trip home. B, but six came and went. I had a great run going, and leaving the table wasn’t an option until now.

I open the front door quietly.

“Olga, where are you? Thought I’d stop in, see how you’re doing. Are you feeling any better? I’ve got half an hour.”

“No. And, you’re an idiot.”

“You’ve got vacation time coming. How about taking a European tour?”

“Oh, that would be wonderful, I’m alone with a bunch of strangers.”

“How about a roommate? Someone from the hospital maybe?”

“Stop it!. I don’t want a roommate, or a cat or a dog or a bird or a goldfish or a God d—…!”

“Okay, okay.” I run my fingers across the keys of the baby grand piano. ““Okay, okay. I haven’t heard you play sincefor I can’t remember when. You inherited Ddad’s gift. The two of you could play anything by ear. What was the name of that song Dad played that was so great?”

“It’s a rag, “The Entertainer” by Scott Joplin.”

I kiss her on the forehead.

“Play it for me.”

“No.”

“I don’t understand why you don’t play when you were born with a gift. People would love to hear you play.”

“Yes, and that’s why they invited me to parties—to entertain.”

“That’s not true, sSis.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Hey!, I’m here to cheer you up. Remember when you blackmailed me when I wanted to buy the black leather sofa and recliner?.”

I get a fragile smile.

“It’s called bargaining, not blackmail.”

“Is that what it was? You said I could have them if you got that antique secretary desk that cost a hundred and fifty more, and you won. You’d be a good poker player if you weren’t impulsive.”

“One poker player in a family is enough.”

“You got that right. Feeling a little better? I’m still your brother and will be here for you. Miles don’t mean a thing. This isn’t any different from how I usually travel to one game or another around the country or internationally. Hang in there;, it will be all right. I wish I could stay, Sis longer, but I’ve got to get back to the table.”

“I know. …Tthanks for coming.”

I hug her, remembering Dad. He did his best after Mom died. I was eight, almost nine. Olga was three. It must have been hard for her, living with Dad and me. The first bedroom we furnished in our house was for him for when he’d visit. He had a massive coronary and died instead.

I hate like hell hurting her like this. She’s not a bad- looking woman., Ggood body, smart, got her degree and has been at Community General ever since college. She’s always been something of a loner though, including through the school years. If only she had someone in her life, a guy or a friend.

***

I can’t believe Harry’s married, leaving me all alone for that bitch. I didn’t go to the wedding. I couldn’t bear to see him standing next to that woman, hear the words I now pronounce you man and wife. I’m crying. I’m going to miss him so much. I can’t stop crying. He said he’d stop by before leaving for Chicago. I knew he wouldn’t leave without seeing me, saying goodbye.

He’ll be any minute, hHis yellow Corvette just turned the corner. I’m waiting on the front porch to make sure that woman and herthat kid stay in the car. They will never step foot in my house. He’s walking toward me.

“I got your call, Harry. Nice of you to stop by.”

He hugs me but. I pull away. I’m so angry, scared!.

“I’ll be back next week, and we’ll do the town.”

“No rush. I might not be here.” I don’t know why I said that. He looks surprised. Good.

“Oh? Are you going to take a trip?”

“No, I don’t like this house anymore. I might sell.” I just thought of that too. I let him take me in his arms.

“Olga, don’t make any major decision like that now. Take your time. Whatever you do, don’t be impulsive. Call me anytime. Have you heard anything about the manager job?”

“No, and I don’t know what Wimmer’s waiting for.”

“Call me when you know.”

He’s kissesing my forehead.

“Your wife is waving. Guess it’s time for you to go.” I giave the word wife the best verbal sting in my repertoire.

“Promise you’ll talk to me before making any major decision.”

“Sure., Bbye, Harry.”

The world turns silent. Did you see me waving to you before you turned the corner? I go in the house, stand in the living room staring at the black leather sofa, the chair, and the monster TV Harry wanted, listening to the silence. I wonder if he saw me waving to him before he turned the corner. Well, . I’m not going to stand here like an idiot. He better keep his word and visit me next week.

I’ll look around, maybe he forgot something. The medicine cabinet is empty, not a towel on the floor, no after shave, no hair gel, no bottle of Vitamin C, no gobs of tooth paste in the sink., Nno socks or shoes to trip over on the bedroom floor, no computer on his desk, only the landline phone. I open the night standnightstand drawer, one drawer after the other in the maple dresser, the closet door—all empty. He didn’t forget a thing. He’s gone. It’s one more rotten day in this rotten old world.

I run my hand across the patchwork quilt covering his bed. It’s beautiful. Our mother made it. All I remember is her sitting at a sewing machine while I played with scraps of different colored pieces of cloth. She was there, —then she was gone. I remember Dad telling me God took her to heaven. I remember wondering why He did that. I wouldn’t remember what she even looked like if not for her picture in the living room. What’s the matter with me anyway? How can thinking about her after all these years still make me sad?

I suddenly realize tThe phone is ringing.

Caller ID says Community General Hospital. My chest is tight., I tremble, blow my nose, clear my throat.

“Hello?”

“Olga?”

“Yes, Eunice.”

“I got a memo from Wimmer. I thought I’d better call you before…” Her tone is somber.

“You got a memo? What do you mean you’d better call me before, before what?”

“Olga, I wanted you to know before you come in tomorrow morning that—I’m so sorry.” I can’t speak. I sit on the bed.

“Are you there, Olga?”

“Are you telling me I didn’t…I didn’t get the promotion?”

“I’m really sorry. I know how much you wanted the job. Herman Vincent Harrington is starting tomorrow morning.”

I hang up. I’m out of tears, out of fight.— Nno more Harry, no more manager job. My bright, brilliant nothing future includes is now nothing but boobs, retire, grow old, turn uglier every day and die.

I crawl under my mother’s quilt, pull it around my shoulders. Harry warned me about the job. Down deep I feared I might not get it. —Tto hell with the job. I don’t want the stupid job. I close my eyes, yield to my body’s fatigue, letting stress, hate, fear and resentment take over.

I must have drifted off. The next thing I see is the moon is shining through the bedroom window. I must have drifted off. I throw off the quilt. I have to go to work tomorrow—. Say hello, to reality. I’ve got to get out of the doldrums. How? I’ll do something different, —change something up. I could really sell this house. Move to San Francisco, or Manhattan. —Nno, all that snow and ice. —Tthen there’s Atlanta.

Forget it.

Running away isn’t the answer. I’ll only take aloneness and failure with me wherever I go. No one ever helps me. I don’t want to sell our—no, my— house. I know what I’ll do!, I’ll redecorate., Rreplace the black leather that I never liked with a new green sofa and a pair of matching wing back chairs. But I need to do something right now, this minute!. I can’t stand this!.

I get in my car, open my Impala and open the’s windows, letting the night’s soft, warm air embrace me. I turn onto the Las Vegas Strip with my eyes open wide, loving the blazing lights of the casinos. , Wlistening to whiffs of jazz, country, and rock ‘n’ roll flow through the car as I pass limos, a Jaguar, women strutting in exotic clothes. I love it! Life is everywhere! and I can’t get enough. I love it. I drive back and forth, weaving through the traffic. Back and forth, back and forth until I pass the same cop the fifth time or so. He’s giving me a what the hell are you doing look.

As I turn off the Strip, I give him my I understand look—and leave life behind me.

Chapter 2

In a few minutes I’ll face theat man who is going to be my boss, who took the job that should have been mine. I wish I were anywhere in the world except here this morning. But no way will I throw away sixteen years and start over somewhere else.

Eunice is probably here already, maybe Harriet or Polly too. O… oh no, the elevator just passed the second floor, it’s going up instead of down. I rush out of the door on three, only to to take an elevator down when I collide with Sibyl.,

“Sibyl, I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you?”

She’s been head nurse on maternity for years. She colors her hair that god-awful black.

“No, I’m fine, Olga. What are you doing up here?”

“Preoccupied, just followed the crowd.” Her retirement party is coming up soon., I won’t go. I don’t go to any of them.

“I heard about Harrington., Ssorry.”

Oh, my God!. Everyone in the hospital knows I was’m passed over—again.

“Oh, that’s all right. I didn’t care about the job all that much. I just hope this guy knows what he’s doing. Wimmer sure doesn’t. How many miracles did you have last night?”

“Four. Two born to single, adult women, one to a fourteen14-year-old, the boy is 16sixteen, and . tThe fourth to a married couple who looked miserable., Tthe husband couldn’t get out of here fast enough. I wish people who don’t want a baby would use contraceptives, give the baby up for adoption or have an abortion.”

“They can’t do that if they’re Catholics, Sibyl.”

“Do you go to St. Rita’s?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t mean to offend you, but I think the cChurch’s stand on birth control and abortion is ridiculous.”

“So do I. No offense taken.” She’s waving to a man leaning heavily on a cane.

“Olga, excuse me, I have a meeting.”

“Is he a new papa?”

“No, that’s Sheldon Katz, an attorney. He handles private adoptions, mostly for single mothers. Talk to you later. You have a good day.”

The first floor waiting area is already full. It will be standing room only for the out-patientsoutpatients lined up, waiting for Harriet and Polly to enter their information. Eunice is straight-faced, talking to some man. …. Oh, tThat must be him. I walk slowly toward them. I don’t know if I’m going to get through this day.

“Olga, this is Herman Vincent Harrington,” Eunice says.

He’s extendsing his hand. No way am I going to shake his damn hand or call him Mr. Harrington. He’s ten, maybe fifteen years younger than I am. Aand one of the handsomest men I’ve ever seen. Dear God in heaven let me get through this day.

“Eunice told me what an excellent technician you are, Olga. I’m looking forward to working with you.” He’s smiling at me.

“Are you?” I shrug, watching him and Eunice exchange glances. He knows I wanted this job. Too much bad is happening to me at the same time. It’s not fair. I shouldn’t have to put up with all this shit. I’m not ready to face this man, or face the failure in the eyes of every doctor, nurse, aide and volunteer. I turn away from him.

“Eunice, I’d like to take the vacation days I have coming ASAP.”

“Sure, Olga,” he says!. “Yyou can start your vacation tomorrow. Eunice has agreed to fill in for a while, so there’s no problem. In fact, I’ll give you today as well.”

If he thinks I’m going to say thank you, he’s out of his mind.

***

There is no question that taking time off was a good move. I feel terrific!. The first day, I went to Ferguson Furniture, where I found exactly what I wanted. The next day Tthey delivered my new green sofa, matching jungle-print pillows, and matching fireside wing back chairs the next day. Aand as the salesman promised, the delivery men took the black leather furniture away. and now, here I am, inlove my brand- new, gorgeous living room. Not only that, I’m in control and ready to face anyone, including Herman.

I kick off my shoes. With a jungle-pattern pillow under my head, I stretch out on my sofa, whichthat is covered with some kind of ultra-soft green suede, luxuriating. W, when wouldn’t you know it? —the phone. I try tocould let the phoneignore it, except ring . I will. it’sIt’s still ringingnot stopping. If this is a telemarketer…, I answer ready for war. “Hello.”

“Olga, this is Judy next door. I’m in a terrible bind. My sitter just cancelled and I’ve got to go to work. I’m sorry to ask you, but would you take care of Beth for a few hours until Dick gets home? He called from the airport. He’ll be here soon.”

“Take care of…?” I hardly know this woman. They rented the house next door only six months ago. I think the baby is around three months. Her request is pretty nervy if you ask me.

“It would only be for a few hours. She won’t be any trouble. She’s sound asleep in the stroller.”

“Well, I —….” Her request is pretty nervy if you ask me.

“Olga, I’m really in a spot. I don’t want to impose but you’re the only person I know in

the neighborhood.”

“Well, I…” I suppose it wouldn’t kill me to help her, also give me something different to do.

“The sitter was going to take her for a walk.” “I suppose I could. It’s not too hot yet.”

“Oh, thank you so much!.”

Beth lay is flat on her back sound asleep in a white dress, with her arms outstretched around her cheeks. Every time she breathes I see her tiny chest move up and down under the dress. I whisper so I don’t wake her., “Hello, Beth. I’m Olga. How peaceful you are sound asleep without a care in the world. We’re going to get some fresh air. —Wwell, as fresh as can be expected these days with pollution everywhere. We’ll go to Walmart. I need strawberries. Harry’s cgoming to visit so I made shortcake, that’s his favorite dessert.”

The stroller rolls easily on the sidewalk. Walking down our block like this takes me back to how Harry and I had mental telepathy or something because instantly we both instantly liked the same house in this neighborhood. It only took Harry a few days and he knew every neighbor. Not me. I never had time, working every day., Aand I am not, and never will be, one of those over- the- back-fence gossips, wasting my time sucking up coffee talking with some brainless neighbor, like the previous one who lived next door.

I pull the canopy down on the stroller, blocking the sun from the baby’sits face. “We live on a nice block, Beth, a quiet neighborhood, well maintained homes. Not many children, and only two new neighbors in the last ten years, including you., Hhowever, you won’t be here long, your parents are renters.”

I stop to stare at the house on the corner, wondering if Harry would remember the first time we saw it. It’s the largest house on the block with a front yard as beautiful today as it was then. He told me the name of these flowers. You’d think I’d remember their names but I don’t. What the…I turn around at the sound of a woman’s voice. She is standing too close, almost touching me, looking at Beth.

“She’s an infant. She’s beautiful. What’s her name?”

“Um, …Beth.” I sound annoyed, or apprehensive., I’m not sure which.

“Congratulations., Hhave a wonderful day, both of you.”

She walks away with a big smile on her face, leaving me standing here stunned.

How weird was that? She stopped me, a stranger, on the street to look at ita baby. I suddenly I start to laugh, but quietly, not wanting to wake Beth. I whisper, “Do you realize at three months with no teeth and no hair you’re stopping traffic? What heads will you turn when you’re 21twenty-one? God forbid when you’re a teenager.”

The stroller glides easily through Walmart’s automatic doors. The grocery aisles are to my left, a big sign, Baby, is to my right where a sale is going on. I can’t resist. Maybe I’ll buy a little gift for Beth. The closer I maneuver the stroller toward the sign Infant/Toddler the more mob -filled the aisles, where people smile at me, then at Beth. I’ve been in Walmart a million times. Customers and clerks are always okay, but they are overly friendly today. A man gives me a thumbs-up as he passes by., I return a cautious grin. How nice this is, friendly people, smiling, nodding “hellos.” I whisper, “Beth, are you inspiring sociability? Emitting some universal language?”

The bBaby area is mega crowded with women and couples. I never knew there was so much stuff—strollers, car seats, Playards, swings, cribs, jumping things. I’m looking for something that says infant dresses when an unfamiliar gurgling directs me to Beth. “Well, look who’s awake. What big brown eyes you have.”

A young woman standing next to me is holding a little boy’s hand. She says, “What a beautiful baby you have. She looks just like you. What’s her name?”

Huh? …Sshe looks like me?

“Ah…Beth.”

“That’s a lovely name. The time goes so fast. Yesterday my son was an infant and today I’m looking at size two.” She squeezes his hand.

I ask, “Do you know where clothes are for infant girls?” I ask.

“The next aisle. See you when there’s another sale.”

“Thanks.”

I turn the stroller in the direction of the woman’s out-stretched index finger. I’m half way down the aisle when I stop. A tall blonde woman who looks like she could deliver one of Sibyl’s miracles as we speak is beaming at me, then at Beth.

“Oh, she’s the sweetest little baby I’ve ever seen. How old is she?” She’s beaming now at the man next to her. I assume he is her husband.

“Three months, and I wish you a healthy baby,” I say. She touches my hand.

She touches my hand. “Oh, thank you. You have an awesome day.”

I shake my head. Strangers talking to me like we’ve been friends since kindergarten, fussing over me. “All because they think I’m your mom, Beth.” Moms and dads are never lonely like me. I remember my dad saying people who don’t have children don’t have anyone to take of them when they’re old.

Just as I inch the stroller around a skid piled high with boxes an older woman stops me.

“Oh, your baby has beautiful brown eyes. Is your husband here?”

“I, ah, I lost him in the war.” I don’t know why I said that.

“Did you lose him in Iraq? My grandson served in Iraq.”

Once I lied, what else could I do? “No, Afghanistan.” Once I lied, what else could I do?

She’s patting my hand. Her touch is genuine.

“I can tell you are a devoted mother. You will have his beautiful baby to love and enjoy for the rest of your life.” She walks away.

I’m a devoted mother?. People are talking to me as if I’m a member of some exclusive parental society sharing a secret understanding of human reproductiveon joy. —Hhey, I’m a somebody!

“Beth, we’ll look at dresses another time. We better head home. I’m going to take a different path through Grove Park.”

No matter when I drive past the park on my way to work moms and children are always there., Jand judging by the screams and cheers I’m hearing, there must be a ball game on the north end. Someone told me the park’s club houseclubhouse is a tourist stop. It was built during the depression and is modeled after the classic 1938 Timberliane Lodge.

I’m sure I’m on the right path that leads to the area where the moms congregate, except the place is empty. Ah…wWell,hat time is it? iIt’s late. now, Mmaybe everyone has left. No, not everyone., Tthere are two moms watching two little boys in the sand box. I didn’t know the park had a separate section for little guys. That’s a good., Bbig kids could hurt—ouchyikes! One kid just threw a handful of sand in the other kid’s face. BWow, both moms run to the rescue. , Oone kid is getting a scolding, the other is getting a piece of candy—all in a split second. I give the moms a friendly look, rolling Beth past them. They motion to me to join them on the bench. How nice!. I really want to, but it’s getting late. I call, wave and ing, pushing the stroller, call outing, “Thank you, next time.”

“We’re almost home Beth. How wonderful—, strangers nice to me, actually see me.

“We’re almost home, Beth.”

I stop. I’ve got a text from Harry. PHe’s probably telling me his flight arrival time.

Hhi, can’t make it have to work another private game i’ll call

Hharry how could you? Yyou promised. Ii’m so alone!

I can’t count on him anymore!. He’s got a new life with that bimbo, so screw me I guess. I’ve got to do something besides eat, sleep and, work or I’m going to drive myself crazy. To hell with everything., I had a terrific morning, Harry. I was somebody. Everyone in the Walmart believed Beth was mine, even said she looked like me. Believed I had a family. Believed I had a husband who made love to me, that my beloved was killed in Afghanistan, that my life is bustling, happy, and full of surprises, like other women with a husband, a child. —Eeven the mothers in the park welcomed me. For a little over an hour, I was somebody.

There’s just one thing wrong with that picture. They have real husbands, each other, a real familiesy. For a little over an hour I was somebody.

What would it be like to have a kid? I could push a stroller like other moms. I wouldn’t be alone. I don’t need a man. There’s artificial insemination. Yuck, no way will I go through pregnancy and childbirth. Oh! I’m thinking crazy! WOr was my winding up on the maternity floor by mistake an omen? I’m thinking crazy. It wasn’t any omen!. It’s interesting, though—, Sibyl working with that attorney who places unwanted babies in safe environments. I didn’t know the hospital provided that service. What would it hurt if I had a chat with her about how the process works? Oh, I’m not going to do that. I’m just mad because Harry cancelled on me. But it’s something new, a new conversation. I’m curious. —Tthat’s all.

Sibyl looked surprised when I invited her to lunch, probably because I never go to staff social events. I went once. Boring! It was a birthday party a long time ago right here in Phil’s. Boring. Today I’m going to be revolutionary and order something different—the aApple nNut sSalad. Oh, here she comes.

“Olga, how nice of you to invite me to lunch.”

“My pleasure. I’d love to come to your retirement party but I can’t, so I thought doing lunch would be fun.”

“That’s thoughtful of you. What are you going to order?”

“Apple nNut salad.”

“Now I know how you keep your figure. I’ll have that too.”

“Are you going to celebrate your retirement with a cruise? European tour? China?”

“MYes, my husband and I will be inare going to China next month.”

“That’s nice. How old do you think she is?”

“Who?”

“The pregnant girl at the next table. I’m guessing, the people with her are her parents. And isn’t the other man the one I saw with you at the hospital?”

“Yes, that’s Shelly—, Sheldon Katz. They’re probably making private adoption arrangements.”

“Isn’t that more expensive than going through the state agency?”

“Yes, but the parent can agree to the adoption with less red tape and frequently they want a closed adoption.”

“What does that mean?”

“The name of the biological parent is withheld. The child can never contact the parent or parents.”

“What about health history?”

“Full disclosure is required but sometimes that isn’t much—Mom doesn’t always know who Dad was. Why? Do you know someone who wants to place her baby?”

“No, I’m just curious. I suppose it’s a complicated procedure.”

“I wouldn’t call it complicated, although it’s thorough, lots of paperwork. There are qualifications a prospective parent must meet. I don’t remember all of them, except sufficient income, a legal resident, that sort of thing. I recall a few of the Home Study requirements, like completing an application, references, there is a home visit, fingerprint clearances. There’s a lot of information on the Internet on how it works. So how do you like your new boss?”

“Don’t ask!.” She changed the subject. I won’t press her. That’s probably all the information I’m going to get.

“Give it some time, Olga. The salad is delicious. I hope you don’t mind mey rushing. We’re overwhelmed today.” She takes the last two bites.

“No, I understand.”

“Thanks, Olga. I must get back to my miracles.”

“You’re welcome. Have a wonderful time in China.”

I’d meet financial qualifications. I have a decent salary, full medical insurance coverage, a nest egg and no more mortgage payments. The procedure seems like routine red tape, except Sybil didn’t say anything about age requirements or marital status. I didn’t ask, of course, I didn’t want her to assume anything., Aafter all, I’m only curious. What cwould it hurt to find out if the law is on my side—or not. I haven’t got anything else to do. I’ll make an appointment to see that attorney.

The minute I enter Sheldon Katz’s stunning reception area, I can’t help wondering what it is about overstuffed black leather furniture that appeals to men. It is too big and, uncomfortable for an average sized woman, although black is tasteful against the maroon colored walls. There’s no question that the oak end tables and his secretary’s matching desk are valuable antiques. The name platenameplate says Teresa Rodriquez. She reminds me of Sibyl, except her thin hair is salt and pepper.

“Good afternoon, my appointment is at two.”

She’s opensing the mahogany door behind her.

“Yes, right this way. Mr. Katz is expecting you.”

He’s tall, thin, mid-fifties., He mmotionsing with one hand forto me to sit in the straight chair across from him, while his other hand is trying to steadying his weight on his cane. I wonder if it’st must be a back problem. He’s strugglesing to sit in the chair behind the large, antique desk. I recognize it—Victorian oak pedestal desk. His office carries the same maroon colored walls and mahogany woodwork. His expression is pleasant.

“I understand you work at Community General with my friend Sibyl, who referred you to me, and you want information about a private adoption.”

I hope he doesn’t check with Sibyl since she doesn’t know I used her name.

“Yes, I understand that there are qualifications to meet and Home Study requirements.”

“That’s correct. You must understand that while my clients are prospective adoptive parents, my first responsibility is the child. I am first an advocate and protector of a helpless child, whose quality of life and future is largely dependent upon my judgment.”

“Yes, I understand, as it should be, Mr. Katz.” He looks stern.

“Why do you want a child?”

“Why?”

“Yes, why do you want a child?”

Ugh., I never anticipated that question. I have to come up with an answer he’ll buy. He’s looking for a few icky sentimental reasons, not that I want to push a baby stroller or I don’t want to be alone. I look directly into his hazel eyes.

“Mr. Katz, forever I’ve wanted a family, children I could watch grow up and become contributing members of society. But I’m not in any relationship and I’ll probably never marry. I assure you I will care for a child with my whole heart, and provide a moral, secure, stable, safe home.”

His expression softenesd some.

“You understand that you must be absolutely sure of your decision and that you fully understand the legal and moral responsibility of assuming and fulfilling all parental responsibilities, in sickness and in health. An innocent human life would be entrusted to you. That is a sacred charge. The child would be your son or daughter and your legal heir. Once the court enters the decree adoption is irrevocable, except in cases of duress, fraud, and although extremely rare, sometimes vacated in the best interest of the child.”

He makes it sound like I want to adopt the heir to the throne of England. Did somebody die and make him god? “I understand, completely.”

“The process can takeis anywhere from a month to a year, sometimes longer. As you would be a single parent working full time, are you looking for an older child? Perhaps one of school age?”

“No, my heart’s set on a new born, or up to twelve months.” He’s frowning. He didn’t like that answer.

“You realize you will be assuming the care of an infant whothat requires attentioncare twenty-four seven.”

“That’s not a problem. I have access to the nursery on the maternity floor, where professional care is administered twenty-four sevenaround the clock, and when it the child is older, full- time daycare is provided at the hospital.”

“I see you’ve given the safety of an infant serious thought.”

“Yes, yes, I have.” Actually, I just remembered daycare availability.

“The other side of the coin is my office securing legally executed consent forms signed byfrom the birth mother, and, if known, the father and/or guardians if in the picture. Any payment for the baby is prohibited by law. The fFinancial expense for you is my fee of thirteen thousand, which includes everything from locating a child to entering the final decree with the court. OtherAnother possible financial arrangement expenses might be for the birth mother’s hospital and doctor bills if the adoption is planned prior to the birth of the baby. A, and in some cases, if necessary, psychological counseling for the birth mother. Payment for the baby itself is prohibited by law. I suggest you take a week to reflect on the emotional, physical and financial responsibilities you would be assuming.”

“Thank you. Is it being possible to determine my qualifications while we take this time out? I’d appreciate knowing if I qualify sooner rather than later.”

“Yes, I could go ahead with that part of the equation. On your way out, please pay my secretary and ask her for the Query Form. I need that for your personal and financial information. If you feel the same way in a week, make another appointment. My fee for today is one thousand. All fees you pay now will be applied toward my total fee if we proceed with an adoption. Have a good day.”

“Thank you, you have a good one as well.”

I wait for Ms. Rodriquez to end athe phone call. “I’m supposed to ask you for and how—…”

“P…payable to Sheldon Katz, and here’s the form.”

Just aAs she puts mythe check in the top, right-hand drawer her phone rings. She isn’t answering, she’s waiting for me to leave. As I close the door, behind me I hear, “Yes, he is.”

“Mr. Katz,” Teresa says, “Mrs. Harris is calling. Should I come into your office?”

“Yes.” He picks up the call. "…Mrs. Harris, are you ready for our big day? It’s right around the…what? What did you say?”

“He’s dead. My husband is—, he was killed.”

“How?”

“I can’t…”

“…Mr. Katz, hello, this is her mother. It was an automobile accident, —a drunk driver. It will be impossible for my daughter to adopt the baby now. She is in shock, and she could never assume responsibility for a child without the help and financial support of her husband. You know they are of modest financial means. I must get back to her. I’m sure you will find a suitable home for the baby.”

“Yes, of course. Do you think when the immediate shock of losing Gordon is over she’ll reconsider the adoption?”

“No, she must continue to work. She can’t consider being a single mother at this time or at any time in the near future. I must get back to her. I’m sure you will find a suitable home for the baby.”

“Please give Mrs. Harris my sincere, deepest sympathy. Goodbye.” He turns to Teresa. “We’ve got very sad news.”

“What happened?”

“Mr. Harris was killed in an automobile accident. The adoption is off. They would have been ideal, down- to- earth, loving parents. I have to notify the Kowalski’s. Pull up our waitlist, see if anyone is next in line for an infant baby girl.”

“I can answer that without looking. There’s isn’t. Our prospective parents are adamant. They want only want a Caucasian male with blue, green, or hazel eyes.”

“Give them a call anyway. Adamant frequently melts, even if it’s a girl with brown eyes.”

“That’s true. I feel bad for Mrs. Kowalski. Statewide there are more babies than qualified adoptive parents. Do you think the baby will go into foster care?”

“It’s possible.”

“I hope not. How is your back today?”

“The pain pill should kick in any minute.” He enters a phone number. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Kowalski. This is Sheldon Katz.”

“Hello, Mr. Katz. I can’t wait for Friday.” Her tone is matter-of-fact.

“I have sad news, Mrs. Kowalski.”

“Don’t tell me something has gone wrong with the court date!.”

“There has been a terrible tragedy. The prospective adoptive father of your daughter’s baby has been killed. I’m sorry to inform you that the adoption is off.”

“No!”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Kowalski. There’s nothing I can do.”

“Mr. Katz, my husband and I are barely making ends meet. Our daughter is 14fourteen. She barely knew what was going on. We want our little girl to have a life. She’s enrolled in a new school where she can make a new start. You must get this baby out of our house.”

“I understand., Iis there any chance the boy’s family would—…?”

“…No, they blame everything on my little girl and even though he’s seventeen17!. They refuse to speak to us. The baby is so sweet, responding, looking around at the world with bright brown eyes. Please. I’m carrying for the baby and I’m becoming attached. I can’t…I can’t let that happen.”

She’s sobbing. So much pain. A good woman falling in love with her granddaughter. “Mrs. Kowalski, I’ll do my best.”

***

The second I was’m out of Katz’s office I knew I wanted to adopt a baby girl. I was never ‘just curious.’ I will not spend the rest of my life alone and miserable. He surprised me though, when only a few days after I dropped off the Query Form he called me, agreeing to take me as a client. I know I had positive answers to all questions on the form, but one thing did strike me as odd, out of character for him. He seemed to be in a hurry., Thatwhich was fine with me though!. I dreaded the thought of the process dragging out for months. Still,so I was and am still awestruck at how he expedited the adoption.

I suddenly had zillions of things to do before the court date. First thing I did was call the Salvation Army for a pick up to clear out some space. They’re coming today. I’m keepingt Dad’s maple chest of drawers and the maple twin bed so I won’t have to buy one when it’s the child is older. I admit, the room doesn’t look much like a nursery with that picture on the wall of a man catching some big fish and the autographed poster of Johan Santana. Trouble is, if I take them down, the wall behind them will be a lighter shade of aqua, the hooks will leave holes, and I’ll have to either replace both pictures with new ones of identical size, or pay someone to wash the walls or, worse yet, repaint the whole room.

As soon as the men leaveft with rest of the furniture, I zoom out my frontthe door for Walmart’s. It’s mobbed!. I grab the first shopping cart I see, grinning, eager to meet see some of the friendly faces I’d met before—and new ones.

Quickly I join the large group of customers in Baby Gear & Furniture huddled around the cribs display reading product descriptions and prices on the boxes. I grin at the pregnant woman standing next to me, waiting for her friendly hello or something. , oh no, sShe’s walksing away without a word, without a smile. What’s her problem? I restore my pleasant grin and catch the eyes of several people close to me. Theywho also ignore me. I don’t know what’s wrong with people today. Well, I’m not going to waste any more time here. I buy put the crib that’s 20% off in my cart and go homemove on.

Looking back at that day it was good I left when I did. Dick had just enough time to assemble the crib before they moved out and the rag heads moved in. Today will be another story!

I’m happy as a lark on my way to Walmart’s with a long shopping list in hand. I walk inside, people are sure to be friendly today. I grin at everyone while maneuvering the cart in and around a mob of customers who do not return my smile. Not again! I go down the next aisle, glance around, catch the eyes of the people around me, pick up bottles, diapers, powder, find sterilizers and put one in the cart. I catch the eyes of the people around me, while but the other shoppers around me remain expressionless!. What’s wrong? I will not give up. I’m off to look at infant car seats. Swhere someone there is sure to smile at me. —Nbut nada. Suddenly, when a light goeswent on, a. An epiphany!. Does a brick wall have to fall on me? No one is talking to or noticing me because it isn’t here! Beth isn’t with me!

Yes, I am naming the baby Beth. I like the name, and the renters next door have already moved out, just like I knew they would.

A several days later I was sitting at my desk assembling credit card receipts preparing myself for the forthcoming humongous credit card bill when my phone rang—a call that will live in infamy.

It was Katz. He wanted to change my adoption arrangements because a couple on his waitlist had become available! I couldn’t believe my ears. Can you believe that? He wanted to give it to them instead of me because he thought I should give more thought to adoption. After all I had done? After all the money I had spent was he nuts? Believe me, I told him where to go with supreme clarity. But that’s history. Oh, I here’s a text from Harry.

will be there tomorrow for a few days love you sis

Chapter 3

What a day this is going to be!. I stand next to the stroller on the porch waiting for Harryhim. I haven’t told Harry him a thing. He’ll be so surprised, so proud of me!. He never asked why I couldn’t pick him up at the airport. I didn’t because I want him to meet Beth at home, not in the car. A cab just turnsed the corner and , I run down the front steps.

“Harry!, y You’re here. It’s been too long.” I feel tears in my eyes.

He lifts me off my feet, giving me a massive hug and a kiss on my forehead.

“Sorry, s Sis, schedules changed, I got hung up, and time got away from me. We’ll do the town!. What’s with the stroller? Are you babysitting?”

“No., Come in. Hhow do you like my new living room?”

“Terrific. You never fooled me. I knew you didn’t like the black leather. You saidIf you aweren’t babysitting, w. Who is this?” He’s looking at it Beth, asleep in the Playard.

I know I’m grinning. I can’t wait to see his face light up when I tell him.

“That’s right, I’m not babysitting.” I know I sound excited. “I told you I had a surprise.”

“Okay, but I don’t understand.”

“It’s mine.”

“What …what are you talking about?” He’s frowning.

“What don’t you understand about it’s mine?”

“TSis, you are not telling me…that’s not possible. I haven’t been gone that long. YYou

weren’tou weren’t pregnant when I leftI left.”

I feel my eyes shining into his, waiting for that what the hell’s gong on expression on his face to break into a big smile and hear him yell congratulations!.

“No, I wasn’t pregnant, Harry, but thanks for the thought.”

“Then?”

“I adopted her.”

He’s blinking as if he didn’t hear me.

“You…?” He’s looks perplexed, confused, like I’ ‘m crazy or something.

“Stop looking at me like I’m from Mars!. I adopted her. What’s your problem? Aren’t you proud, excited for me?”

“Why?, Wwhy in the name of God did you do this?”

What’s the matter with him?

“Why, why did I? I want to push a stroller like other women!.”

“Push a…? Is it too late to ask if you are sure about this adoption?”

“What the hell is your problem?”’ I shout!. “Yes, it’s too late. And stop looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.” He’s just keeps staring at me. “Don’t you think I have a right to have what other women have? Why aren’t you happy for me?”

“I don’t understand what possessed you. Never did you ever mention wanting children. I never pictured—…”

“…MYou never pictured me as a mother?. Thanks for nothing!. Well I am. The adoption is final. Don’t you remember what Dad said about children? People who don’t have children won’t have anyone to take care of them when they’re old. I don’t understand you!. You’re my brother. You’re supposed to be happy for me!”

“Oh, my God Olga, stop yelling.”

“Screw you!”

“I know you’re angry about Jasmin and me, about mey leaving, that you are lonely, but this is not the way to solve that problem. You should have given yourself more time after I left before making a major decision like this. Why didn’t you call me?”

“I’m glad I didn’t!. You’re worse than the attorney. After I sat through lengthy meetings he told me a baby girl was available. I completed all the paper work, the court date set, and after I spent a fortune on a crib, bottles, you name it he had the nerve to tell me a couple on his waitlist wanted the baby and suggested I take more time to think things over. How dare he? No way would I start over. And don’t you dare shake your damn head at me. I was looking forward to your coming, telling you about Beth, and all I get is criticism!.”

He’s not looking at me, he’s looking at Beth.

“Olga, for God’s sake, being a single mom isn’t easy. You earn an okay buck and the house is paid for, but have you considered the cost of raising a child?”

I think I’m going to cry.

“Of course, I have. Why aren’t you happy for me?”

He’s putsting his arm around my shoulder.

“I’m sorry, sSis. Don’t cry. I wish you had called, talked to me before you did this. We’ve awaked your daughter.” He’s liftsing Bethit out of the Playard.

“Hello, Beth, let me introduce myself. I’m your Uncle Harry. Ah, my pretty, you have your mother’s big brown eyes and you’re a blonde. You’ll be a knockout.” He’s putsting her back, great, now and she begins to’s cry, so ingh. He’s laughs anding, picks ing her up again, sietting down together in the wingback chair.

“Wonderful, Harry, you’re here ten minutes and you’re spoiling her.”

“I’m entitled., I’ve never been an uncle before. Ah, you like your Uncle Harry. What good taste you have, my pretty. How old is she?”

“Six months.”

“Where are we going for dinner?”

“Yardbird. ”

“The sitter will be here soon. I’m going to change.”

“Take your time. Beth and I are fine.”

***

Never did I imagine my sister as a mother, or that she would ever do something like this. I’ve got bad vibes. When Jasmin looks at Jackie her eyes fill with love. I don’t see that in Olga’s. And I remember our mother that day when I wouldn’t take her hand. She looked at me for a moment and said, “Oh, I see, you are too big now to hold my hand. Is it still all right if I keep loving you a lot?” I recall saying, “Yes, that’s okay,” in all seriousness until she hugged me and we laughed. Olga just doesn’t…

Hold it, wise guy. Since when are youam I an authority on motherhood? What the hell do you I know about how a woman feels about a baby or being a mother or motherly love? Besides, what you I think couldn’t matter less at this point—what’s done is done.

***

How I’ve looked forward to this. “Today’s the day!,” How I’ve looked forward to this. “Beth, it’s our maiden voyage to Walmart!. You look so pretty sleeping peacefully in your new yellow dress.” My eyes are misting, remembering. “You and I are going to have a wonderful, wonderful day. We’re going to meet all kinds of people who will tell me how beautiful you are, how you look like me!.”

Immediately inside Walmart, I dodge a bunch of kids who come out of nowhere and almost collide with a skid piled high with boxes. I adjust the stroller’s canopy to make sure Beth is in plain sight. I wiggle the stroller through the crowd toward a couple looking at cribs. where I stop, waiting for them to say something to me. TAh, the woman is looksing my way. I give her a friendly grin but when I can’t believe this! Sshe’s walksing away, talking to the man I assume is her husband. How rude is that?

“To hell with her, Beth. Off we go to the next aisle.”

It’s loaded with customers. I see a

young woman holding a purple dress in front of her little girl. I stop next to her, catch her eye, —my expression is friendly. We exchange a glance so I quickly turn the stroller so she gets a better view of Beth. But she ignores me. What’s happening? She puts the purple dress in herthe shopping cart, takes the child’s hand and walks away with not so much as a nod, leaving Beth and me standing here. What’s wrong? I’m with Beth this time. I push the hood of the stroller all the way down so she is in full view.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with people today, Beth. But Infant/Toddler is the next aisle. We’ll meet nice people there. Everyone can’t be having a bad day.”

I stroll down the aisle, slowly, looking for a friendly expression, looking directly into the eyes of passers-by—, the pregnant woman, the other mothers, fathers— and I think I’m going to cry!. No one’s looking at or talking to me. Everyone can see Beth. N, but no one is paying any attention to me, no one is telling me how much Beth looks like me. Everyone’s in a hurry, racing to stand in the shortest checkout line. I have to get out of here! This is horrible!. I have to get out of here.

“Beth, to hell with all of them. Grove Park here we come, where there’s bound to be some moms.”

I take the same path I took on myour first visit. “This is a lovely park for our maiden voyage, Beth. Three mMoms are on the bench in front of the sandbox. There’s plenty of room for us.”

I grin at them as I sit down, turning the stroller in front of me so the woman sitting next to me can see Beth.

She’s smilesing at me., “Hi, I’m Madelyn.”

That’s more like it. I knew someone would say something sometimehere. “Nice to meet you., I’m Olga and, this is Beth. Do you come here often?”

She’s getsting up and, retrievesing a little girl from the sandbox, helping her climb into a stroller.

“I’m here once a week. It’s terribly important that my daughter interacts with other children.” The woman’s leaving!

“Yes, that’s very important. What’s your daughter’s name? How old is she? My …”

“Loretta, she’s two and half. I’m in the process of researching how I can have her tested to determine her IQ. You see, she is a genius. I’m sure of it. You have a good day.”

Her kid is a genius? Good luck with that.

“Nice to have met you, Madelyn.”

She didn’t say a thing about Beth or me, not even a good bye to me or to the two other mMoms sitting here. I can’t help overhearing them.

“Gwen, I thought I’d cry. Nora took her first steps last night.”

“Oh, Julie, that is such a precious moment. I remember when Sylvester took his first steps. You’ll never guess what he did this morning. It was the cutest thing.”

Both of them know I’m here, with a baby, yet they continue yacking to each other, acting as if they are alone, pretending I’m not here. I could interrupt them I suppose, call their bluff. To hell with them too. If they don’t want to talk to me I don’t want to talk to them. I glance at the two women sitting on the bench directly across from me, who quickly turn away. ScrewFuck you! I get up and, push the stroller quickly down the path away from all of them.

“It’s not our day, Beth. I don’t know what happened to the world while I wasn’t looking., Wwe might as well be zombies.”

Calm down. Maybe these mothers have been meeting in the park for a long time, and I’m the new kid on the block. I should give them more time.

“It will be better here and at Walmart another day, Beth, you’ll see.”

That better day never happened, even though I made several trips after our failed maiden voyage. I feel like a fool. I’ll never tell Harry. What was I thinking anyway? My first experiences had to be flukes, the subsequent indifferent trips the real world. I rarely take Beth for a walk now. I never go to the park or bother taking her with me to Walmart’s. I bought a dress there yesterday though, for her baptism that I’ve put off too long.

I’m waiting for Father Gonzales. He’s been the visiting Catholic priest at the hospital for years. He always has a good word regardless of one’s faith., Tthe patients like him, as does thewell as staff. He’s barely over five feet with not an ounce of surplus flesh.

“Father, good morning, may I have a word?”

“Yes, Olga, sit down. What can I do for you?”

“I’ve adopted an infant and I’d appreciate it if you would baptize herit here at the hospital.”

“You have assumed a great responsibility as a single parent. May our Lord be with you as you raise His child in His Church.”

“HerIts biological family was Christian. B, but I don’t know if sheit was baptized, . Sso to be on the safe side would you baptize herit ASAP? I’d be most grateful, Father.”

“Yes, that is critical, but I cannot do as you ask. There are rules. Have you…yYou belong to St. Rita’s, don’t you?”

“Rules? Yes, I do.…”

“You must register for the baptism at St. Rita’s. You are a practicing Catholic in good standing dedicated to raising your child a Catholic are you not?”

“Yes., I didn’t know I had to register.”

“Yes, you and your baby must attend preparation sessions at St. Rita’s. You will enjoy them. You’ll discuss the theology of the sacrament of baptism, you’ll have an opportunity to answer any questions you might have, as well as meeting and sharing your joy with other parents and their infants in the sessions., and…” I cut him off.

“…I don’t want to meet other parents. I don’t want them to know my business. Parents in these sessions will ask about my husband and I don’t have one. Their children will eventually be classmates of Beth’s and will know she is adopted.”

“Adoption is not anything to be ashamed of.” His tone is condescending.

“I know that, Father, but I have a right to privacy.”

“Baptism is a joyous event. Share your joy with others. St. Rita’s baptism rites are every Sunday at one o’clock. It’s a beautiful ceremony., Ffamilies bring their babies forward to be baptized and you can choose full immersion or infusion—pouring water from the font over your baby’s head. and…”

My frustration button is lit, brightly.

“Father, didn’t you hear me? This adoption is my private business. I will not participate in any preparation sessions or in any public celebration. I have only one question: wWill you baptize herit here at the hospital or not?”

“There is another way. You can have the baby baptized during Mmass on a Saturday or Sunday. Just call and find out the liturgical schedule and—….” He’s like a politician who has no intention of answering, hoping I’ll give up, forget my question as he keeps reciting only his agenda. Does Father really think that approach is going to work on me?

“Are you deaf, Father?” He’s like a politician who has no intention of answering, hoping I’ll give up, forget my question, as he keeps reciting only his agenda. Does Father really think that approach is going to work on me? “I will not participate in a public ceremony. Are you going to baptize Beth here in the hospital or not?”

“You must have at least one or two godparent,s who must be one man and one woman at least 16 sixteen years old and—…” I cut him off again.

“…I know that. I have one godparent—, Sibyl, you know her.”

“Oh, yes, I know Sibyl very well. She must obtain a Sponsorship Certificate from her parish attesting to her being a Catholic in good standing, attend a preparation session and obtain a Catholic Sponsor for Baptism certificate. You cannot register for a baptism until these two documents are submitted to the Baptism Coordinator, and you’ll need a Baptism Certificate so your child can receive the other sacraments.”

“I can’t believe this! Why in the world are there so many rules for aone simple baptism?”

“They ensure that the sSacrament of bBaptism is observed for the joyous event it is. The sacrament bestows grace. I, it is the celebration that removes original sin, granting the soul the vision of God. Without baptism original sin remains, the soul is excluded from heaven.”

“I’ve had it, Father. Are you going to baptize Beth or not?”

“I can’t. I haven’t the authority.”

“Huh? Who does?”

“I could ask the monsignor but I can’t guarantee—...” I’m not frustrated anymore, I’m angry!

“Ask him!” I’m not frustrated anymore, I’m angry. “It’s my understanding that the cChurch recognizes all Christian baptisms. Is that true?”

“Yes, but there’s no need for temper, Olga.” He looks baffled, as if in the history of man never before has anyone questioned these rules and conditions. It’s as if the only anticipated or acceptable answer to everything is yes, Father!.

“If obeying cChurch rules isare more important than washing away original sin from an innocent soul I will find a Christian minister who will. I hope I hear from you or the monsignor soon. In the meantime, I’m going to check out the other Christian churches in my neighborhood.”

My anger turns to sadness. I like Father Gonzales. He’s a good man. All I want is for Bethit to be baptized. On my way to work each day I pass St. John’s Lutheran Church., I’ll talk to the minister there if I don’t get good news from Father, —soon.

Fortunately, I doid. Father and the mMonsignor resolved my situation with the bishop. Sibyl agreesd and completesd the godparent conditions, and the dress I had bought compliesd with the rule of mostly white. When we meet Father in the hospital’s chapel and he puts a white bBaptismal bib under Beth’s chin. After the ceremony, he giaves me the bib and , athe white candle, telling me to burn the candle on bBaptismal anniversaries and on future sacrament celebrations. Then he giaves me her Baptism Certificate.

I giave him the recommended fifty-dollar donation.

***

On occasion, it’s hard for me to remember I’ve put up with Herman Vincent Harrington for three long years. He did pleasantly surprise me when he put me on the day schedule after learning about my motherhood, which I appreciated. That made getting up in the middle of the night to feed Beth during those first few months not only easier to deal with, but also led us to fall comfortably into a daily routine—, up early, then after eight hours in the hospital home we go. I didn’t visit the nursery when Beth was there during the day, the hospital’s always a madhouse. I need to relax. Aand the only time I’m at the children’s day care center now is to drop off or pick her up Beth.

Harry’s in townhere. He doesn’t always have time for more than a phone call when he’s in town, although he manages a real visit every two or three months. I’m so looking forward to seeing him tonight.

“We’re home, Beth.”

She scampers into the kitchen. Our routine after work is she gets a glass of orange juice while I sip a cup of hot tea.

“Play with your doll on the floor and do not open any cabinet doors. Here’s your juice. What do you say?”

“Thank you, Mommy.”

“You’re welcome., Ddon’t spill it. What are you doing? I just told you not to touch the cabinet doorknobs. You better learn to obey, young lady.”

I kick off my shoes. It feels good to be off my feet, sitting at the table watching the tea bag gradually deliver the right shade of brown. “Beth, take your hand off the doorknob. Do as you are told.”

I need to change her dress. …What the…? I can’t believe this.!

“Get your hand off that knob! How many times do I have to tell you? I will not have pots and pans all over the kitchen floor again!. I did not want, and will not put, locks on drawers and doors in this house because offor you. All they would do is make my life miserable.”

Mommy has’s got a mad face.

“Stop crying. You must learn to obey or you’ll have trouble in school. You have a belligerent streak that is in desperate need of correcting. And don’t look at me like that. Hand me your glass. We’ve got to get ready.”

I take the last sip of tea, rinse the glass and mug and, put them in the dishwasher, preoccupied with the dress I’m going to wear.…

Bang! Bang! Bang!!

Pots, pans, and covers hit the tile floor. Beth’s showing me the red aluminum pot. I yank her up from the floor by the arm.

“You opened the cabinet! What’s the matter with you? You are belligerent. You disobeyed me!. I told you not to touch the cabinet!. Who do you think you are?”

I’m bad. Mommy is hitting my hands.

“You need to learn to do exactly what I tell you!.”

How dare she do this to me? She’s trying to put the pans back. She’s got to know, I’ve got to teach her who’s boss around here. How? …yesI know … that’s what I’ll do. She’s not looking at me. She’s trying to put the pans back. I tip toe, open the door to the utility room behind me, slip inside and, close the door without making a sound and wait.…wait....

“Mommy? Mommy?”

I dwon’t answer.

“Mommy! Mommy gone!”

She’s screaming, running through the house from one room to another. Sounds like she’s on her way back to the living room. I had no idea she could yell that loud. Hope the neighbors can’t hear her!. This will teach her to obey me. If I can’t control her now, what will I do when she’s older? I won’t stand for any smart- mouth teenager. Ah, it’s quiet. What’s she doing now? I open the door a crack. She’s back in the kitchen sitting on the floor, leaning against the fridge and, crying, whispering to the doll. I wonder what she’s saying.

“Mommy is’s gone. What will happen to me? How will I eat?”

I think I’ve been gone long enough,enough; she’s got the message. I deliberately rattle the door knob. She doesn’t look up. I rattle it again, longer this time, while I slowly open the door. I step out. She’s looksing up and sees me. , Sshe throws the doll on the floor and, grabs my leg.…

“Stop blubbering and let go of my leg!. Are you going to obey me from now on?”

“Mommy!, m Mommy! I be good! I be good!”

Mommy was hiding.

“Let’s go wash your face and change clothes. I didn’t tell you, but Uncle Harry is here

and we’re going to dinner. And don’t spill anything.”

It was a trick.

“Can I wear the purple dress?”

“May. M…. may I wear the purple dress.?”

“May I wear the purple dress?” I don’t like mommy. Mommy i’s not nice.

“Yes, you may.”

***

Mommy’s happy when Uncle Harry’s comes. Mommy’s in her bedroom. She has a new

dress. I’m dressed. I watch out the window. I run fast. I can beat her to Uncle Harry. He’s here! He picks me up and, he kisses me., I’m giggleing. I like Uncle Harry!.

“Hello, my pretty.? What’s up? You look like you’ve been crying.”

“I—…”

Mommy says, “She’s fine, Harry. Let’s go. Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

Uncle Harry takes us to fancy places. That’s why I have to wear a dress. I like it better at McDonald’s. On our way we sing in the car. Uncle Harry sings: ‘rRow, row, row your boat,’ and I have to hurry and sing ‘row, row, row your boat.… Uncle Harry said it’s a ‘round.’ I don’t know what that means.

This is a new fancy place. I never saw that before. AIt’s a pool. A pretty lady is in a silver boat. She’s holding something real big. It sounds nice. Mommy saysid it’s a harp. There isn’t a lady or a pool in McDonald’s.

How does the lady get into the boat? I don’t see stairs. Does she get her dress wet? How does she get out? It’s a pretty dress. It’s silver. I have to sit in a baby chair. I have to remember not to spill anything. Uncle Harry is smiling at me. He smiles at me a lot.

“You are quiet, my pretty. Don’t you like your ‘skettie’?”

“I—…”

Mommy says, “She’s fine.… Aand say spaghetti, Harry, no baby talk, please. Beth, stop playing with your food. You must eat a well-balanced meal for good health. If people ate reasonable portions and well-balanced meals we would not have an obesity problem in this country. Beth, eat your green beans.”

“Yes, Mommy.” I’m glad I didn’t get peas.

“Yes, Mommy.”

“How long do you think you’ll be staying, Harry?”

“Depends on the game. My guess is at least three days. What’s up with you two?”

“The boob business is booming. Beth, stop playing with the beans and eat your dinner. You must be hungry, lunch was hours ago.”

Uncle Harry pokes me. He does that for fun. He says, “Beth, I’ll make you an offer. If

you eat three beans Mommy will let you get a doggie box and you can finish your dinner tomorrow.…or ….”

Mommy has a kind a mad face. I say, “Okay,” I say real fast and I chew up three small beans. They don’t taste too bad. I smile at Uncle Harry., Hhe’s laughing.

“Your mom takes good care of you. I bet you’re the healthiest, neatest, cleanest kid in Nevada, and you look very pretty in that purple dress.” He rubs the top of my head.

Mommy says, “Now you’ve mussed her hair.”

Uncle Harry winks at me. I drop my head fast so Mommy can’t see me smile. We have to leave. Uncle Harry has to go to work. He plays cardspoker. Mommy says he earns a lot of money. We’re home now. Uncle Harry gives me and Mommy a kisses.

“Good night, ladies. I’ll call you, sSis. We’ll get together again before I leave.”

Mommy has a happy face. Maybe Mommy will read to me. I like that. She has a special book. It’s old. It was her daddy’s. That’s my grandpa. He’s dead.

“Mommy, will you read to me?”

“Oh, I suppose. I’m a little tired so pick something short.”

We’re on the sofa. Mommy opens the book. It’s small. It smells nice. The cover is soft. Mommy said it i’s leather. I don’t know what that is. “Read Little Boy Blue!”

“I like that one too, but just the first verse.”

The little toy dog is covered with dust,

But sturdy and staunch he stands;,

TAnd the little toy soldier is red with rust,

And his musket moulds in his hands.,

Time was when the little toy dog was new,

And the soldier was passing fair;

And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue,

Kissed them and put them there.

Mommy closes the book. “Time for bed.”

Chapter 4

“Mommy, will first grade be hard?” I’m big now. I’m going to a real school. I’ll have sSisters. The kindergarten teacher wasn’t a sSister. I liked singing “Three Blind Mice” and “Itsy Bitsy Spider.”

“Mommy, will first grade be hard?”

“Was kindergarten hard?”

“No.”

“Then first grade won’t be hard either. One grade prepares you for the next. You’re average. You’ll be fine. We’re almost at St. Rita’s.”

I drove around the school last week. It’s a long, oblong, one-story, red- brick building with a spacious play area in the front enclosed by a black ironwork security fence I guess at least six feet high. The ornate front gate really caught my eye, being at least nine- feet high and twenty- feet wide. A huge gold cross stands on the roof, centered above the front gate, which I can now see the tip of as I turn the corner.

“Beth, I’m taking you this morning because it’s your first day. After this you’ll take the school bus.”

“Okay.”

What mayhem. Cars, kids, and parents are all over the street and sidewalk. Is this a typical first day of school? Probably. I don’t remember mine.

“Do you have your supplies?”

“Yes.”

You’d think with the tuition I’m paying I wouldn’t have to lay out another fifty-five dollars and seventy-five cents for school supplies. Oh well, sending Beth to St. Rita’s is the

right thing to do. It is a classical school, excellent academic reputation. I didn’t like the nuns much when I went to St. Catherine’s, but. I’m sure they’re past the ruler phenomenon by now.

There’s no statute or law, but the public schools here follow the policy of the Board of Education forbidding capital punishment. That doesn’t apply to faith-based schools like St. Rita’s, where students are disciplined appropriately when necessary. Parents can disagree and have their student exempted from St. Rita’s policy by submitting their objection in writing to the principal. What a lot of to- do about nothing. A swat on the butt never hurt anyone. And like Dad always said, everyone needs some religious education—, they teach good.

This mightust be the only Catholic elementary school in the country fully staffed by nuns, but not for long. They’re all getting old and three will retire this year. With no young nuns to replace them to work for almost nothing, St. Rita’s will soon be fully staffed by lay teachers the cChurch has to pay competitive salaries., Iand if the school isy’re lucky, one nun will always beis the principal.

Nuts, here come three school buses. Ah, the drivers are turning, letting the kids off at the back entrance where there is a plain gate leading to the parking lot and a basketball court.

“Mommy!, l Look!”

“Yes, what is it?”

“There’s Janie!.”

A little girl with long black hair is waving to Beth from the sidewalk.

“Who’s Janie?”

“My friend. That’s her daddy.”

“What’s her last name?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s probably Torres or something. What a tacky dress she has on.”

“Tacky?” Mommy has a strange face.

“Tacky means bad taste. Who dresses a child in a dress with big red carnations? Oh, well, no matter., Nnext week you’ll all be in uniforms. Sand stop wiggling your tooth.”

“Bad taste?”

“Never mind. You’re wiggling your tooth again. It will fall out by itself. The roots of your baby teeth dissolve.”

“Okay. Will the tooth fairy come again?”

“Yes, if you remember to put it under your pillow.”

“I’ll remember. Mommy, when are your baby teeth going to fall out?”

“What? What did you say?”

Mommy has a mad face.

“I…”

“Don’t you ever, ever say anything like that to me again!. That’s rude. You never say things about how people look. That hurts people’s feelings!.”

“Feelings?”

“Yes, feelings. Don’t you understand anything? You must be tactful. I suppose you don’t know what that means either. Tactful means you never say things that hurt the feelings of others. The tooth fairy will not visit a mean little girl. Will you stop crying!.”

“The tooth fairy won’t come?”

“All you think about is yourself. You hurt my feelings. You apologize to me right now, say you’re sorry.”

“I’m sorry. I won’t …hurt feelings.”

“All right, stop crying. Remember, I’ll pick you up after school and you wait for me. You know I get nervous if I don’t see you. I’ll worry. Don’t make me worry. And what do you do if someone tells you to get in a car?”

“I run away and tell a grown- up or a policeman.”

“That’s right. Here’s a Kleenex. Off you go. Sister’s opening the doors. You be a good girl and obey the sSisters.”

“Yes, Mommy. …Iis Uncle Harry my daddy?”

“What? No., Rrun along or you’ll be late on your first day of first grade.”

Wow, that question took me by surprise. I didn’t think she was old enough, or aware enough, to ask that question. What am I going to tell her if, or more likely when, she asks about a her daddy again? I could tell her he was a hero, killed in the war. I’m not even sure I’m going to tell her she’s adopted. But I can’t deal with that now. I’ve got to go to work, assuming this traffic exceeds ten miles an hour. As I creep past the front gate I catch a glimpse in the rearview mirror of Beth’s blue skirt going through the doors.

***

Janie and I are second in line. I have to be careful not to hurt feelings. Sister is telling us to walk slowslowly. I know she is a sister because she wears a habit. That’s like a long dress and a veil on her head. The room isn’t like kindergarten. There are desks in four rows. There’s a big picture on the wall of Jesus with kids. Jesus is hanging on the cross on the wall behind Sister’s desk. Mommy said sisters are special. They are good and, they work for Jesus. I’ll learn how to be good.

“Good morning, children. My name is Sister Benita Cruz. You will sit in alphabetical order beginning with your first name. Do you know the alphabet?”

We all yell A B C real loud!.

“How smart you are!.”

She is laughing. I like her.

“Adam, you take the first desk in the first row by the window, then you Benjamin, Beth, Carolyn…”

I slide my hand over my very own desk. Janie’s is in the row across from me.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” Janie says.

We giggle. Sister looks at us, smiling.

“Beth and Janie, there is no talking in the classroom. How many of you know the Lord’s Prayer?”

A lot of us raise our hands.

“I see some of you don’t know the Lord’s Prayer so that will be your first lesson. But you do know how to make the sign of the cross, so together say: in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, amen. Keep your hands folded, bow your heads, close your eyes and repeat what I say. You’ll know the Lord’s Prayer by heart in no time and then you can say the prayer every night before you go to sleep.”

I keep my head down and close my eyes.

Our Father, who art in heaven

I say the words. Saying the words together sounds nice.

Who art in heaven

I keep my head down and close my eyes.

Hallowed be Thy name

Saying the words together sounds nice.

Thy kingdom come

I say the words.

Thy will be done

Oon earth as it is in heaven

I don’t like my eyes closed.

Give us this day our daily bread

I say the words and put my head way down and open my eyes a little.

andAnd forgive us our trespasses

The kids around me have their eyes closed. Not Leland. He sits behind Janie. He was in kindergarten with me and Janie.

As we forgive those who trespass against us

Leland’s crossesd his eyes!. He’s funny.

andAnd lead us not into temptation

I look out the window. There’s a kite in the sky!.

butBut deliver us from evil,

Amen.

I look up., Sister is smiling.

“Children, you prayed better than any other class I ever had. Always remember our Lord loves you. And I have a present for you.”

Kids are saying, “What? What?”

Sister is holding a picture. It’s of Jesus with kids.

“This is a prayer card.”

We each get one. I like all the colors.

Sister says, “Turn the card over. The words there are the complete Lord’s Prayer. And you know what?”

We shout, “What? What?”

“You are going to learn to read. Then you can read the Lord’s Prayer all by yourself!. And now I’m going to read a story called The Parable of the Good Samaritan.”

***

I liked first grade. Second grade wasn’t hard. I’m in third grade now. I have Sister Emily. Father Perez teaches Catechism every Friday afternoon. He said we have a lot to learn so we can make our First Holy Communion. But first we have to make our First Confession. That’s because I’m seven and I’ll be eight. He said that’s the age of reason. That means I know right from wrong. That’s because I have a conscience, that’s a little voice that tells me when I’m bad.

That’s very important. Father said every person should listen to and follow the voice of your conscience to do what’s right. People who do bad things should go to the doctor.

I don’t like Sister Emily. She hits us. And we’re always the last class to enter our classroom. She makes us stand the longest in line looking straight ahead until she opens the door. Sometimes I think she wants someone to do something bad so she can hit somebody. You always know when you’re going to get it. She scrounchnges up her face. She pulls your fingers down real hard. T then she hits the palm of your hand with a ruler. It hurts. I got it. Doris got it yesterday. Sisters can’t hit Janie because, her mom didn’t give permission, neither did Leland’s. I asked Mom not to give permission but she did.

I don’t know why she doesn’t open the door. Leland’s behind me. He pokes me!. I giggle!. It tickled. Oh, no! Her face is scrounchging up.

“How many times do you have to be told not to talk in line!?”

She’s grabsbing me around my chest!. I can’t move. Her hand is on my forehead, pulling my head back tight against her chest.

“Maybe this will teach you to obey!.”

I can’t breathe. I pull and push, but I can’t get away.

She’s got her…she’s hitting my lips

with the ruler. It hurts! I close my eyes. She keeps hitting me!.

“Are you going to do as you’re told from now on?”

I hate her!

“You’re nothing but a trouble maker.”

She lets me go. I hate her! I hate her! I swing my arm up as high as I can and punch her right in the face with my fist. Her glasses fall off!. She slaps me in the face. I don’t care!. I won’t cry. Her eyes look at me awful. She opens the classroom door.

“You hit me, a servant of God!. You are a disobedient, bad, evil girl. You stay right here by my desk. Everyone else, file in quietly and take your seats.”

I stand there. What’s going to happen now? She closes the door, puts a wood straight chair in front of the class.

“Don’t you move, Beth!.”

All the kids are in their seats looking at me. She’s got a yard stick.

“Beth, you lieay on your stomach over the seat of this chair right now!. You are a bad, mean girl.”

I don’t’ move. All the kids are looking at me. I don’t want to laylie on that chair.

“You lieay on your stomach right now or I’ll call your mother.”

No! No! Don’t…

“You lieay on your stomach on this chair right now or…”

She’s holding her cell phone. Mom can’t know!. I lie on my stomach on the wood seat of the chair., Mmy arms and legs hang over the edges. She hits my fanny with the yardstick, —over and over again!. All the kids are watching. I don’t care. I won’t cry. I hate her. It doesn’t even hurt!. She stopped. I won’t cry for anything.

“A good spanking is what you needed!. Get up and go sit in the last seat in the last row until school is over, when you will take a note home for your mother. You will also have failing grades on your report card under all areas of pPersonal gGrowth and dDevelopment, including conduct and courtesy.”

I sit where she told me. Nobody ever got it like this. I don’t want to give Mom her note., Sshe’s going to be so mad!. I shouldn’t have giggled!. I thought sSisters were supposed to be good. She isn’t. She’s mean. I’m glad I hit her.

I run to the bus when school is over and sit with Janie. She always saves the seat for me. “Beth, that was the worst ever!. She’s a terrible sSister. She shouldn’t hit you like that.

What does the note say?”

“She sealed it.”

“What is your mMom going to say?”

“I don’t know. I’m so scared. Here’s my stop.”

I run off the school bus into the house, crying., I can’t stop. I’m going to get it now!. The note from Sister is in my backpack. I could say I lost it. If I don’t give it to Mom, Sister will telephone. I know she will. I hate her. I have to give Mom the note. She’ll be home soon.

Like always, I put the mail on the desk and set the kitchen table, the knife and spoon on the right of the plate, the fork on the left and the white paper napkin folded in half alongside the fork. Was that the door? Mom’s home. I’m going to get it good now. I’m shaky inside. I won’t cry for anything!.

“Beth?”

“I’m in the kitchen.”

“I brought fried chicken from the hospital. It’s good for a change. Oh, the new yellow place mats on the maple table look nice. How was school?”

She’s takesing a plastic carton out of a white paper bag. There’s a lot of chicken. I’m not hungry. She’s opensing a small carton of coleslaw. There’s bread too. I get the bread basket and two glasses out of the cupboard, fill mine with milk and Mom’s with water, no ice.

“Line the basket with a napkin.”

I do. Mom sits down, looking at me. I can’t stop shaking inside.

“Have you been crying?”

I doidn’t answer. I won’t cry for anything!.

“Is something wrong, Beth? Where are you going?”

I get the note out of my backpack and. I give it to her. She’s readsing it, frowning.

“Who does this Sister Emily think she is?”

Huh? What did Mom say?

“This is ridiculous. You are not a bad girl. You might misbehave but you are certainly not bad. What happened?”

Mom’s not yelling at me?

“I giggled in line.”

“You giggled?”

“Leland poked me.”

“And this nun is making a federal case out of a giggle? I will not take time off of work to discuss your behavior over a giggle. You should be quiet in line, though. I’ll give you a note for Sister.”

I didn’t get it! I thought Mom would give it to me bad.

“Eat your dinner. The chicken is good.”

I still don’t feel like eating but I eat a drumstick anyway. Why do I feel like crying again? Mom didn’t give it to me. I thought I’d get it awful.

“Do you have much homework?”

“Some arithmetic. Janie’s mom helps her with homework. Will you help me?”

“No., I’m not in third grade, you are. If you couldn’t do your homework you wouldn’t be in third grade.” Mom throws Sister’s note in the waste basketwastebasket.

“Okay.” I rinse the dishes like always and put them in the dishwasher. Mom puts the soap in and, I turn it on. She puts the leftovers in the fridge. I put the place mates back, clear the table so I can do my homework, multiplication tables.

“I’m going to watch the news.”

Mom always watches the news. As soon as she’s in the living room out of sight I get Sister’s note out of the waste basketwastebasket.

Ffrom the desk of Sister Emily Flynn

Beth is a bad girl. She deliberately disobeyed the silence rule by giggling in line whichline, which required me to punish her. She is disobedient, does not respect authority and is insolent. I’m sure you realize these serious character flaws must be corrected in the best interests of your daughter. Call me at your earliest convenience for an appointment to discuss what you might do at home to correct Beth’s bad behaviors.

Yours in Christ,

Sister Emily Flynn

Why didn’t she tell Mmom what happened, that I hit her? I’m going to hate going to school tomorrow. All the kids will be looking at me. I better be good from now on. Do what I’m told. I hear the weatherman on TV. It’s 102.

“Beth, when you’re finished with your homework there’s a note on the desk for Sister. Put it in your backpack and give it to her in the morning.”

No nun is going to give me grief over a giggle. Beth told me the truth. IMy note should makde short work of this ridiculous situation. Better check themy mail., Llots of junk. , Iin the waste basketwastebasket it goes. I open the bill from St. Rita’s. It’s another form for next month’s hot lunches. I can’t believe I’m paying eighty-four dollars a month for hot dogs, hamburgers, burritos, chicken sliders, and pasta Alfredo. Thank God, the menu will change for the better next month. Only took fifty years for them to figure out what contributes to childhood obesity.

“Beth, don’t forget the note in the morning.”

“I’ll get it now, Mom.” I get it off the desk and go back in the kitchen. The envelope isn’t sealed. I go back in the kitchen. When I hear Mom in the bathroom I take the noteit out of the envelope.

Dear Sister Emily,

Beth is not a bad girl, and since a giggle is not a threat to world peace there is no need for me to meet you to discuss what I might do at home. Be advised, I alone decide what goes on in my home.

Olga

Wow., Mom’s not mad at me. She’s not going to do what Sister says. She’ll never know I hit her. I can’t wait to go to school tomorrow.

I’m first in line. I hold the envelope in my hand so Sister can see it. I want to give it to her and get in my seat before the other kids. We’re last in the hall like always. Here she comes. She’s opening the door.

“As you file in leave your homework on my desk before taking your seats.”

I put my homework on her desk, give her the envelope and a smile. She’s reading it. Her face is scrounchging up, looking at me like she wants to hit me again. I smile at her. Her face is turning red. She tosses the note in the waste basketwastebasket.

I doidn’t hear or see much the rest of the day. It was like I wasn’t there. Before I know it, I’m on the bus with Janie.

“What did your mom say? Sister looked mad!.”

“My mom told her I was not bad and she wouldn’t meet with her.”’

“Your mom said that?” Janie looks surprised.

“Yeah., I thought she’d be real mad at me.”

“You know what?” Janie is looking at me funny.

“What?”

“Leland likes you.”

Janie giggles. So do I.

It’s the last Saturday in April, a very important day. I’m going to make my First Holy Communion. That’s called the Sacrament of the Eucharist. I can because I’m pure now. I made my First Confession and confessed my sin, a lie. That’s the Sacrament of Penance. I had to say the Hail Mary prayer five times for penance.

Father Perez taught us all about sins and the commandments. It’s a sin if I break one. Even a bad thought is a sin. God will punish me. A mortal sin is the worst. That’s like if I kill somebody. If I die before I confess a mortal sin I’ll go to hell and burn forever. A venial sin isn’t so bad. I’ll go to pPurgatory. After I burn enough I’ll go to heaven. That would hurt bad!. I don’t want to ever go to there!. Father told us we Catholics are the true religion. But those who left the cChurch won’t go to hell because they believe in Jesus and we’re all Christians.

I’m getting ready to go to church. I have a special white dress and a veil. I even have new white socks with a ruffle. Mom said it cost a hundred fifty dollars for all my stuff. I like my dress. It has pockets. Mom said it is tea length. She’s going to shorten it and make a blue sash to wear with it. Then I can wear it like a regular dress. I have a prayer book and the rosary has pink hearts for beads. Janie got the same kind but hers has a sterling silver cross. That costs more money Mom said.

I’m scared. I’m short so I’m first in line and have to lead the girls into church. Sister Elena, she’s the principal, said it’s a procession. Mom told me not to be scared because we practiced a lot. We’re lined up, waiting for Sister to open the church doors. It’s real quiet—even the boys.

Father told us when he consecrates the bread and wine at Mass, they turn in to the bBody and bBlood of Christ. I don’t know how that happens. The bread is a round wafer and the wine is in the chalice. Father said Jesus loves us so much that He died for our sins. He was crucified, nailed to a cross to save us. But Father didn’t tell us why I had to confess a sin if Jesus already saved me.

Oh! Sister’s opening the church doors.

I lead the girls down the left side of center aisle. Tommy is across from me leading the boys down the right side. The pews are full, grownups and lots of kids. I passed Mom in the last pew. She said she’s sitting there to ‘beat the crowd’ when Mass is over. I’m supposed to meet her by the car later.

The girls follow as I go into the first pew on the left. The boys do the same on the right. When all of us are standing in the pews, we all kneell down at the same time with our hands folded and our heads bowed—even the boys.

The choir is singing. It’s nice. I’d like to be in the choir when I’m bigger.

This is a high Mass. They’re real long. I watch Sister for the signal. That’s when I step out of the pew and lead the girls., Sshe’s nodding. All the girls follow me. W and we all kneell at the railing in front of the altar. Father is holding a gold chalice with a wafer in his hand.

He says, “The bBody of Christ.”

I open my mouth only a little. I don’t know what His bBody is going to taste like. It doesn’t taste like anything.

The deacon has the chalice with wine. He wipes it with a cloth and says, “The bBlood of Christ.”

I take a sip. I told Mom yesterday I didn’t want to taste His bBlood. B, but she said the taste of the wine wouldn’t change. She gave me a taste of wine at home so I’d know it was okay. It takes a long time for all us kids to receive communion and get back in the pews.

The altar boys and Father Martinez, he’s the pastor, are leaving the altar. I’m glad, Mass is finally over. Oh, was that a bad thought? That’s a sin. I have to go to confession. When they pass us, Tommy and I each step out of the pews at the same time and follow Father. Grown-ups smile at us as we walk by. It must be real hot outside. Heat is coming through the open doors. When we get close, Janie and I run outside and down the church steps. Both fFathers stand by the doors talking to the grown-ups.

It’s real crowded on the sidewalk. I see Janie’s mMom. She’s pretty. Her dress has big orange flowers. Janie told me she’s going to have another brother or sister. Janie’s having a communion party. Lots of the other kids are. I’m not. I don’t care. I want a birthday party. I’ve never had a birthday party and. I want a birthday partyone more than anything.

“Beth, stand next to Janie so I can take your picture.”

Janie’s mom always takes pictures. Lots of grown-ups are talking pictures. Mom doesn’t take pictures.

“You look like angels.”

We stand real still.

“Okay, you can move now. Beth, where’s your mom?”

“I’m meeting her by the car.”

“You better be off then.”

She hugs me. I don’t know why. She hugs people a lot, she says I love you to Janie a lot.

The car’s parked on the next street. I see Nick. I don’t like him. He’s laughing, whispering to Adam. Nick’s looking at me.

“Hi, Beth.”

I keep walking.

“Do you know what you are?” Nick says.

Adam keeps laughing., “Yeah, do you know what you are?”

Nick comes real close to me. He whispers in my ear., “You’re a bassard. Beth’s a bassard!.”

“A what?”

He and Adam run away, toward their parents’ cars.

“A what? Wait….” They drive away. I feel funny inside. I don’t know that word. I

walk faster.

When I turn the corner, I wave to Mom, get in the car. “What’s a bassard?”

“A what?”

“A bassard.”

“Where did you hear that word?”

“Nick said I was a bassard.”

Mom looks angry, but not at me.

“Is he in your class? Did he make his Ffirst Ccommunion today?”

“Yes.”

What kind of parents does this Nick have, calling a little girl a bastard? And today

of all days., “You are not a bastard. Don’t pay any attention to that kid. He used a bad word. We don’t say words like that. Forget it.”

“That’s a bad word? Adam said the bad word too.”

“Sticks and stones—remember that saying? Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me. Forget it. The ceremony today was very nice. We’ll be home soon.”

“Janie’s mom took our picture.”

“That’s nice. Stop biting your fingernails.”

I take off my veil. It has little white flowers.

“Does the band hurt?”

“It’s tight.”

“I thought it was too tight.”

***

On my way home from the booming boob day at the hospital, I pick up a salad

andsalad and a pizza—, half sausage and half mushrooms. Beth only likes the sausage.

“Beth, I’m home. How did school go?”

“Fine.” I want to ask Mom, but… “The pizza’s good.”

“Eat your salad too. A balanced diet is important.”

“Sure. I…Mmay I…Mom, please, please may I have a birthday party? I’ve never had a

birthday party.”

“No, and I’d appreciate it if you’d stop asking me.”

“But all the kids have a birthday partiesy!”

“Don’t you dare raise your voice to me!.”

“But, Mmom, please. Please may I…?”

“I said no, it’s expensive.”

Beth looks sad. But if there’s anything I don’t need it’s a bunch of kids running around the house., Wworse yet, having to deal with their parents. Every time I drop Beth off for a birthday party obnoxious moms march into the houses, smiling, talking, strutting like Miss Americas, calling, ‘love you, have fun. ..Bblah, blah, blah.!

“Mom, I saved almost ten dollars. May I —…”

“I just spent more than a hundred dollars on your communion. I’d have to buy food, cake, games, candy, ice cream, decorations, prizes. It’s no and that’s final. You do your homework, and don’t bother looking at me like it’s the end of the world. People don’t always get what they want. I’m going to listen towatch Jeopardy.”

I ha’ve got a far more important issue on my mind than a damn birthday party. I must make a decision. Katz told me to tell her she’s adopted when she’s eight or nine. I don’t know if I will. He said if I don’t, someone else probably will. But who could tell her? Who knows? There isn’t anyone left at the hospital who knows she’s adopted. Herman left three years ago for Los Angeles Community Hospital.

If I tell her, what will she do? What about me? I’ll think it over. Katz was insistent though. I’ve got to make up my mind, tThis is driving me crazy. I’ll call Harry. It’s ringing, pick up Harry. He’s probably in a…

“Harry, hello, is this a bad time?”

“No, sSis, it’s always good to hear your voice. What’s up?”

“It’s about Beth. You remember I mentioned Katz, the attorney who—…”

“…Sure, I remember.”

“He told me I should tell Beth she is adopted when she is eight or nine. I want to do the right thing, but no one’s left at the hospital who knows. I don’t think anyone knows except you.”

“What about your neighbors?”

“I never haved anything to do with them. I could have been pregnant for all they know. Beth was an infant.”

“Sounds risky to me.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why don’t you want to tell her?”

“I don’t know, I just don’t.”

“What’s the worst that could happen if you tell her?”

“She’ll want to find her birth mother, and what about me after all I’ve done? I’ve—...”

“…You said it was a closed adoption. She won’t be able to find her birth mother so that will never happen. What’s the real reason, Sis?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you afraid she won’t love you anymore?”

“Love…?”

“…Your relationship is strong, isn’t it? You are her mother, she is your daughter. Trust yourself., Ttrust Beth. She’s a smart kid, so tell her the truth. Did Katz give you any tips on how to tell her?”

“Yes, he said not to make a big deal out of it. Keep it short and simple, but.”

“Sounds like good advice to me. Are you willing to risk hurting your own daughter?”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s say you don’t tell her and one day someone does. She’ll l be shocked, hurt, confused, won’t understand why her mother never told her the truth.”

“I don’t think there’s anyone’s left who knows.”

“Do you want to risk hurting her like that? Has she asked any questions? Has something happened?’

“Yesah, a couple of nasty boys called her a bastard recently. She has no idea what that means. All that kid and his parents know is that I’m a single mom. That doesn’t mean they know she’s adopted.”

“Olga, what’s the matter with you? She’ll know what bastard means sooner rather than later. What are you going to do? Give her a fantasy father? For God’s sake, yYou asked my advice. and I’m telling you. T—tell her the truth.”

Silence.

“Olga, say something.”

“I guess I’ve dreaded this day. I could put it off for a year, till her next birthday.”

“Get it over with, sSis. Would you feel better if I was around when you tell her? I don’t

mean I’d be with you when you tell her, just close by, in town.”

“Oh, would you, Harry? I wouldn’t feel so alone and do it all wrong.”

“Sure., I’ll check my schedule and confirm a date.”

“Thanks, big brother, I feel better already.”

Chapter 5

School’s almost over!. Sister Emily doesn’t hit me anymore. We had to write a composition about what we want to be when weyou grow up. Tommy won first place (, he wants to be a priest), Tamira got second (, she wants to be a sister), and Leland won third, (he wants to be an astronaut). Their compositions are in the hall for Open House. Mom never goes., Sshe is too tired from working hard all day. I want to be a teacher, and not hit kids. I didn’t say the no hitting part in my composition.

“Mom, someone’s at the door. Should I answer it?”

“No, do your homework. I’ll get it.”

A UPS truck is parked in front of the house. I didn’t order anything. I’m about to tell the young man I’m not expecting anything when he hands me a clip boardclipboard and a pen. Oh, it’s from Harry. Of course, a birthday present for Beth. He never forgets either of our birthdays. As soon as I sign on the highlighted yellow line the man and the brown truck are gone before I close the front door behind me.

“Beth, when you finish I have a surprise. O, oh, here you are. Did you do all your homework?”

“Yes.”

Mom’s grinning, sitting on the edge of the sofa. She’s takesing a big box something out from behind her back. She and putsting it a big box on my lap.

“It’s your birthday present from Uncle Harry.”

I pull and pull at the tape, rip away the brown paper, take the cover off. There’s a big birthday card on top of something wrapped in white tissue paper.

Happy Birthday

to my special niece!

Have a good one, cute stuff.,

Uncle Harry, Aunt Jasmin, and Jackie

“Mom, look, Uncle Harry called me cute stuff. He makes me laugh.”

“LAnd you look at that finger, all your fingers. When are you going to stop biting your nails? Aand don’t get carried away because he called you cute stuff. Vanity is a sin.”

“Yes, Mom.” I tear open the white tissue paper. It’s a dress! with It’s black and white flowers, a full skirt, and puffy sleeves. I love it. It’s soft and shiny. “Mom, look, it’s the most beautiful dress ever!. I could wear it to…—don’t you like it?”

“Black and white is a ridiculous combination for a child. It must be second hand.”

“Second hand?”

“Yes, the dress is used, a hand-me-down. Some rich kid wore it two times and her parents gave it to the Salvation Army to sell in their second-hand store. Jasmin goes to all those cheap places. She probably picked it up for two dollars.”

What’s the matter with Harry, spending that kind of money on a dress for her? This is a Gilmore Original Silk. He’ll be getting a text from me!. I won’t allow him to spoil her. This is a Gilmore Original Silk.

“Beth, put the box and paper in the recycle bin and don’t look so glum. Remember to send an email thanking him. He meant well. It’s the thought that counts.”

He gotI sent my text to the next day. Within hours I got, “Cool it, sSis. I got a sweet message from your daughter and mey giving her an expensive present from time to time will not corrupt her character. I’ll be there next Saturday, early, and will leave late on Sunday for Hawaii. Is either day good for you to tell Beth?”

“Yes, Saturday., Tthank you.”

It was torture, waiting. I’ve dreaded this moment, but knowing Harry’s here, has my back makes me feel better. I take a deep breath. I hope I do this right. At least if telling her doesn’t go well, we’ll have time during dinner to deal with whatever.

I pat the seat of the sofa, motioning to her to join me. “Beth, come sit next to me., I have something to tell you before we meet Uncle Harry for dinner.”

Mom sounds different.

“Beth, sometimes…sometimes when a baby is born her mother and father can’t take care of it.” I’m getting a blank look. “Sometimes moms and dads are too young or too poor or too sick to take care of it.”

Mom’s staring at me funny. She’s not mad though.

“And because they love their baby so much they give it to someone else.”

“HuhAh?”

“I mean the baby is adopted by someone who can give the child a good life.”

“Adopt? …Llike a babysitter?”

“No, Beth. When you were born your mother could not take care of you. So, I adopted you and I became your mother. Out of all the babies, I picked you.”

When I was born? Mom’s talking about me. I’m adopted?. Mom looked at all the babies. , She pointeds to one and said,ys I’ll take that one, like at Walmart?

“You picked me?….”

“Yes, out of all the babies I picked you.”

Mom isn’t…I have another mother?

“Babies are adopted every day and that isn’t anything to be ashamed about. But it is our private business, a secret, so don’t tell anyone.”

“Okay., Ddoes Uncle Harry know?”

“Yes, but he’s the only one.”

“Okay., Iis Janie adopted?”

“No, and there’s no need to dwell on the subject. Go wash up and change your clothes. I don’t want to be late meeting Uncle Harry.”

“Okay.”

Mom is my mom. My other mom couldn’t take care of me. I’m adopted. That’s a secret. Janie’s mom is real. Do the other kids have real moms? I can’t ask. It’s a secret. It’s getting late. I put on Uncle Harry’s dress. It’s the most beautiful dress ever. Mom doesn’t like it, but there isn’t time for her to make me change.

This is a new fancy place. It’s dark in here. All I see on the walls are big pictures of people who only have one eye. Some have their noses where their ears are supposed to be. I liked the place with the lady in the pool better. It’s real quiet here. There aren’t any kids. The chairs are big. I bet I’ll sit on a booster. I’m getting too big for a booster! There’s Uncle Harry!.

“Hi, cute stuff. Where’d you get that gorgeous dress?”

I’m laugh asing, he’s kissesing my forehead.

“You gave it to me!”

He’s giving Mom a kiss. He’s whispering in her ear. I have good ears. He said, “Did it go all right?” Mom’s nodsding yes.

Uncle Harry is sipping the wine. He does that to make sure it’s good. The flowers on the table are purple. I wonder if they’re real. I…

“Don’t touch the flowers, Beth, Aand how many times do I have to tell you to stop biting your fingernails.”

“Come on, sSis, she didn’t hurt the flower. You like the flowers, Beth?”

“Yes, purple is my favorite color.”

“I’ll remember that. These flowers are orchids and you and your mom may have them when you leave. Speaking of fingernails, your Aunt Jasmin gave me strict orders to tell you she’d give you a manicure set when you stop biting your nails.”

“She did?”

Mom looks mad.

“That woman is not her aunt!. And you can tell Ms. Jasmin to mind her own business!.”

Uncle Harry is frowning at Mom.

“Whether your mom likes it or not, Beth, my wife is your Aunt Jasmin, and if you stop biting your nails by the time I’m here again the set is yours. Agreed?”

A real…Janie doesn’t even have a real manicure set.

“Oh, yes!” Janie doesn’t even have a real manicure set.

“Do you like the wine, Olga?”

“You’re out doing yourself—Salon Blanc de Blancs Le Mesnil.”

“Guilty conscience. I should have come sooner for a special evening with two of my best girls.”

“And duo of foie gras. Do you want to try it, Beth?”

“Okay.” I open my mouthtake a bite. “Yuk!”

Uncle Harry is laughing.

“Does that face mean you don’t like it?”

“No faces, young lady.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“What do you say when you don’t like something?”

“No thank you, I don’t care for any more.”

Uncle Harry winks at me. He does that a lot.

“You’ll like dinner, Beth. I pre-ordered for us. It’s lamb for me and your momus Sis, and I better say spaghetti or your mom will scold me, which the chef made just for you.”

Uncle Harry always tells the waiter what we eat. Mom says that’s how a gentleman orders dinner. A lot of people are sitting down at a big table close to us.

“Don’t stare at people, Beth, that’s rude.”

“They’re niggers.” Oh, something’s wrong!. I never saw that face on Mom, or Uncle Harry.

“Don’t you ever say that word again.”

What did I do? Mom’s whispering to Uncle Harry.

“Do you think they heard her?” Mom whispers to Uncle Harry.

“I hope to God not.”

I did something bad!. Am I going to get it? I don’t know this Mom face.

“Beth, where did you hear that word?”

“Nick and Adam said Tamira is a…Tamira is in my class. She said her name means magic. Those people look like her.”

Mom’s shaking her head, looking at Uncle Harry.

“My God, Harry, what kind of parents do these good Catholic kids have, calling people derogatory names and spewing prejudice?”

Mom’s not mad at me.

“Beth, your classmate Tamira and the people at the next table are African Americans. Don’t ever say thate other word nigger again., Nnever use derogatory words. They are disrespectful, insulting, and they offend and hurt peoples’ feelings. We should respect each other.”

I hurt feelings? Mom told me that before. When Mom said ‘der-og-a-tory’ like that, that’s how she teaches me a new word.

“Olga, do you want to tell her some other derogatory words before those boys complete her street education?”

“No, one at a time will suffice.”

“Beth, all people have the right to be respected. And African Americans prefer being

with their own, and we prefer being with our own.”

“Olga, that’s not—…”

Mom’s giving Uncle Harry her shut-up look.

“Doesn’t Tarmira like me? We play jump rope together.”

“You’ll understand when you get older.”

“Sorry, sSis. Of course, she likes you, Beth, and you like her. The more we understand and enjoy all people, the richer, the happier and the better off the whole world will be.”

“Thanks, Harry, I couldn’t get through the day without you saying that.”

“Mom?”

“Yes.”

“You said Tamira is African American. What are we?”

“We are Caucasian, white.”

“Okay.”

***

I’m on my way to buy Mom a plant for her birthday. I saw it in the flower shop window. I saved ten dollars. It’s in my pocket. Whenever we walk to Walmart I like to look at the flowers in the window. The one I want to buy is still there. I step inside., Iit’s cool and, it smells sweet. Flowers and plants are all over the tables and shelves. I know the flowers in the big refrigerator are roses. Uncle Harry sends those to Mom. They cost a lot of money. Here comes a lady. Her apron is dirty. She’s taking off gloves., Tthey’re dirty too. She’s smiling at me.

“What can I do for you?”

“There is a real pretty plant in the window. It has little purple flowers.”

The lady’s hair is white. She must be old.

“That’s an African Violet plant. Is that the one you mean?”

“YOh, yes, how much does it cost?”

She’s not answering right away.

“IAh…is this for your mother?”

“Yes.”

“I see. …Hah, how much can you spend?”

“I have a lot. I have ten dollars!”

“Why, isn’t that a coincidence!. That’s exactly how much that plant costs., Aand you know what?”

“What?”

“Today we’re wrapping plants free of charge. Would you like me to wrap it?”

“Oh, yes!. Thank you!”

I hold the plant tight walking home so I don’t drop it. IBut it didn’t cost ten dollars. When she was wrapping it, I saw the lady take a stick out of the plant that said twelve dollars and ninety-five cents. That was very nice of her. I can’t wait to get home. Mom will like this present!.

“Mom, where are you?”

“In the kitchen.”

She’s having a cup of tea.

“Mom, look!” I put the plant on the table in front of her. The plant is wrapped in clear plastic with a big the purple ribbon. The sun coming through the window makes the little purple flowers shiny. “Happy Birthday, Mom!”

She’s hardly looking at it. Why isn’t she looking at it? She’s dipping the tea bag up and down in the cup.

“Beth, thank you, but you shouldn’t spend your money.”

She said that last year. She’s blowing on the hot tea.

“Don’t you like the flowers?”

“They’re pretty, Beth.”

“Aren’t you going to unwrap it?” Maybe she’ll like it better when she unwraps it. I was sure she’d like this present.

“All right.”

She’s untiesying the ribbon. She’s not smiling or anything. She’s pullsing the clear plastic away. The little flowers aren’t shiny anymore.

“Mom, the lady said plants last a long, long time. Cut flowers only last a few days.”

Mom looks…, I don’t know, but not angry.

“Oh, Beth, do you see any plants in this house?”

“NAh, no.”

“Did it occur to you to ask yourself why?”

“No.”

“You don’t see plants here because I don’t want to take care of any plant, and African Violets are hard to grow.”

“Oh.” I was dumb to buy a plant!. I should have known. She’s rinsing the cup in hot water.

“Get a small plate for under the pot and put it on the table across from the piano. I don’t think it should be in direct sunlight. What’s the matter with you? Are you crying?”

“No.”

I leave real fast with the plant on the plate, put it where she said. She can’t see me cry. She doesn’t like it. I did it wrong.

***

Janie gets better grades than I do. Mom saysid I’m average. But I got a B in English. I got promoted so I can’t be too dumb. I’m going to have Sister Juanita Rivera next year. Leland said she’s nice., Hhis brother had her. He said this is her last year. She’s retiring. Sister Emily should retire, she shouldn’t teach kids. But Mom said we’re lucky to have sisters. Most of the Catholic schools now only have lay teachers and theyat cost a lot of money because sisters worked free or for very little. So now the cChurch is getting money from taxpayers. Mom saysid that’s wrong.

Janie’s having another birthday party. Her parties and really nice. She said her mom’s going to surprise us with some games she found on line. Her mom’s cool. I wish I could have a party more than anything.

In the summer, Janie and her sisters go to a girls’ camp up north for two weeks. Mom says that costs a lot of money. I go to a summer camp every year too, at Grove Park. I like it. I go with Ann.; Hher real name is Annabella. S but she wants everyone to call her Ann. She goes to public school. Bobbie, that’s her little brother, goes to camp with us. Not Richard, that’s her older brother., Hhe can’t go anymore. He’s twelve and half. Ann said he’s looking for a summer job. He’s not old enough to work at McDonald’s. Mom said they are poor. Ann’s dad died last year. Richard asked about a camp counselor job at Grove Park but didn’t get it. Mom said he was too young. Besides, she said, you have to be ‘connected’ to get a park job. That means you have to know someone important like a politician. The camp counselors are teenagers. They’re cool. I’d like to be a counselor when I’m a teenager, but I’m not connected.

Mr. Rockford is the park director. He has white hair and big black eyebrows. His fat jiggles all over when he runs across the gym. Some kids laugh at him. I don’t. Mom says it’s rude to make fun of people.

Today is Monday. Miss Turgeson will be here any minute. She’s here every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. She teaches tap dancing. I’m lucky. T—there was a pair of used tap shoes that fit me so I can dance this year. Mom said she didn’t want to buy new shoes because, I’d outgrow them.

Most of the kids are here. I wave at Ann!. We usually walk to the park together. B, but this morning Mom gave me a ride.

“Hi, where’s Bobbie?”

“Sick., Mom had to take off work. Richard just started a job babysitting. Mom says I’m not old enough to stay alone with Bobbie.”

“How sick is he?”

“Mom thinks a cold but she isn’t sure. —Hhere’s Turgie!.”

That’s what we call Miss Turgeson. Her hair is blonde like mine but it’s long. She winds it around her head. She’s real pretty.

“Morning, girls!. Are you ready to rock? Remember, always do a warm- up. Follow me., Rright…left….”

I like her. She’s fun. When she laughs, it bounces all over the gym like the music. That’s an echo. I stretch one leg, then the other, now my arms. I twist fast from my waist back and forth, back and forth, shake my hands real fast., Iit feels good. It’s very important ‘to get loose’ before dancing.

“Terrific warm- up, girls. Take your places.”

I run and stand next to the door. All the kids line up behind me. There are twelve of us. I’m first in line again cause I’m short. Tamira is last. She’s short like me.

“Girls, I have two exciting pieces of news for you. Mr. Rockford told me he is adding a one-hour social dance class next summer on Saturdays. It will be open to everyone up to eighteen. You and your older brothers and sisters will learn together the electric slide, YMCA, cupid shuffle and more so you’ll know how to dance at your prom. And, …are you ready for this?”

She’s teasing, smiling at us.

“I’ve saved the best for last. For the first time, Grove Park—that’s you— will give a show, that’s you.

All your friends and families will see how much you’ve learned, what terrific dancers you are. It will be in the evening, outside, and there will be a wood floor over the sand. Won’t that be fun?”

“A show!” Everybody’s yelling!. “A show!. We’re going to be in a show.” Oh, Mom will

Oh, Mom will be surprised!. Will I lead the line in the show like I do now? What if I do it wrong? That would be bad. Turgie’s looking at her iPhone. That’s where the music comes from.

“Okay, girls, calm down. I know you’re excited but we have work to do!. Get ready!. Remember to sing the lines loud and clear.” She’s snapping her fingers. …“Ffive, six, seven, eight!.”

That’s my cue!. I tap and sing real loud!. I hear the kids tapping and singing behind me. Now we’re in the straight line facing Turgie. We’re turning, tapping and singing.

Well it’s one for the money, two for the show, three to get ready, now go, cat, go!

Turgie said this is her father’s favorite song., Ssomebody called Elvis sang it. We sing and tap like crazy!. I like to listen to the sound bouncing all over the gym!. Mr. Rockford’s giving Turgie a thumb’s- up. Oh, she’s turned off the music. She does that when something’s wrong. What if that happens in the show? That would be bad.

“Some of you were out of sync on the last turn. Watch me. Look out, New York City

Rockettes, here come my dancers!.”

We laugh. She told us all about the Rockettes andin Radio City Music Hall. We do the turn over and over and over and over. Turgie is smiling. She smiles a lot.

“Now you’ve got it!. And what’s the secret?”

We all yell, “Have fun!”

She turnsed on the music. “Let me see you do the whole routine straight through.”

Whew!, I’m sweating!.

We’re bowing now.

“That was perfect!. Remember to practice at home!.”

Ann and I walk home fast without Bobbie.

“Oh, Beth, a show!. That’ll be fun!.”

“Yeah!.”

“Do you like my picture?”

“It’s real good.” She drew a picture in Arts & Crafts. It’s in pencil. It’s of a castle at night with a moon. The sky has big black clouds. It’s spooky. Mom said Ann is ‘talented.’

“It’s real good.”

“Thanks., I’m going to draw part of a black cloud over the moon, maybe even add a weeping willow tree or a kid.”

“Ann, look, Sally’s got a new bike.” It’s red. Sally lives in the biggest house on our block. “My mMom said they’re rich.”

“Yeah, she gets everything.”

We don’t play with her. She’s two years younger than we are.

“Mom said the palm trees on our block are Queen Palms. They are forty- feet high. And all the houses on our block are the same, one contractor built them, except Sally’s and ours.”

“Your mMom is smart.”

“Yeah, only our houses have a concrete front porch and steps.”

Richard, Ann, Bobbie and I sit on my steps with Uncle Harry when he visits. He does magic. I don’t know how he always finds a silver dollar behind my ear. When I pick a card he always finds the right one. Uncle Harry is real smart.

“Richard’s on your front porch. Who’s the other boy?”

“That’s Billy. They’re in the same class.”

Ann and Richard go to public school. Richard will be in eighth grade next year.

“My mom said Richard is so tall he might be a basketball player when he grows up. Maybe get a scholarship.”

“Yeah, he’s tall. …Yyou want to come over?”

“I can’t. See you tomorrow.”

We live across the street from each other. I want to sit with them but I don’t dare. Mom will worry if I don’t check in.

Whew!, i It’s hot in the here! I turn on the air and check -in with Mom. I wave to Ann from the front window. She’s waving to me to come over. I won’t though. Mom’s on her way home. I have to find my dark skirt. I know it’s here in the closet. We’re supposed to wear a dark skirt with a white blouse in the show, a real show!. Wait ‘till I tell , oh, Mom’s home.

“Beth? Where are you? I picked up a pizza and a salad. The table isn’t set. There you are.” Where are you?”

“I had to find my skirt and blouse!. I’m going to be in a show!.”

“A show? What kind of show?”

“At the park. We’re going to dance outside, at night!. This is the first time ever to have a show!. Will you come? It’ll be on the last day of camp.”

“That’s nice. I don’t know what my schedule will be at the hospital.”

The show is tonight!. Ann and I get back to the park early, where counselors are already setting up the Arts and Craft booth on one side of the gym. Some boys are lining up targets for the archery contest. Only a couple of big girls are competing. It’s real hard to draw back the bow.

Turgie is smiling at us. I’m shaky inside. It’s almost time. I stand next to the gym door that leads outside. That’s our entrance to the wood floor. Everyone is lining up behind me. I open the door a crack. People are putting up big lights. George, he’s a counselor, is setting up speakers for the music. It’s real crowded. The card table chairs in front of the wood floor are full. A lot of grown-ups are standing. Kids are all over, sitting on blankets. Mom said she might come. I don’t see her. She said she had errands.

“Girls, your rehearsal this morning was perfect. Relax and have fun!. Beth, you watch me. I will be directly across from you on the other side of the floor. Listen to the music and wait for my signal. Girls, you’re gonna knock everybody’s socks off!.”

Oh, Turgie’s leaving! I’m shaking inside even more!. I wish I wouldn’t do that. I look out the gym door, waiting for Turgie to take her place, waiting. There she is!. Somebody turnsed on the music real loud. She’s snapping her fingers. She’s, waving to me. Oh, here, hHere I go! I hear everyone behind me!. We sing real loud, and tap and tap and tap and sing, and now we’re making a long linestraight like the Rockettes and kick and kick!. When it’s over, we’re bowing, bending way down. I look up. People are standing, clapping. We were okay. I didn’t make a mistake.

Mr. Rockford is at the microphone.

“Ladies and gGentlemen, how about putting those hands together for their teacher, Miss Turgeson.” Turgie’s at the microphone. Everyone’s still clapping, real loud.

Turgie’s at the microphone. “Thank you so much. You are justly proud of your girls. They worked very hard all summer and did a beautiful job tonight. A special thanks to Beth, who led the parade, so to speak.”

Turgie’s looking at me. I start to cry. I don’t know why. I liked the show. It was real nice.

Ann’s Mom is waving to me.

“Beth, come walk home with us. All of you were awesome.”

She’s hugsging Ann. Her picture won the first place, the blue ribbon. I hear her mom whisper I love you. She says that a lot.

“Richard, Bobbie, do you realize we’re walking with celebrity dancers and an artist? We’ll look forward to your show next year, won’t we boys?.”

Her mom is real nice.

Chapter 6

I’m in fourth grade. Sometimes I look at all the other kids in fourth grade, wondering if they have real mothers. Maybe mine’s a movie star, or somebody famous. She couldn’t keep me though. She gave me away. I don’t ask Mom questions. She doesn’t like that, I can tell. She talks fast and doesn’t look at me. Last week Mom got real mad when I got the manicure set from Aunt Jasmin. It came by UPS. But Mom let me keep it. She said it was good I don’t bite my nails anymore.

I can’t wear my jumper uniform anymore. I have to wear a blue, plaid, pleated skirt, short sleeve white blouse, knee- high white socks, and black, brown, or navy plain shoes with no trimming. Mom gave my old jumpers and blouses to the school for some other kid to have. She told me the sizes of the used plaid pleated skirts and stuff were all too big for me. She had to buy new. The boys have to wear black, brown, or navy trousers, a white shirt that’s always tucked in, and a belt.

Sister Juanita Rivera is nice. She doesn’t hit me. She only made me write the Roman nNumerals from one to a hundred after I talked in line. Printing the numbers didn’t take long. She told us that God knows how many hairs are on our heads. I don’t know why God wants to know that.

We had to write a composition about what we want to be when we grow up—again. Tommy still wants to be a priest. He won first place, like usual. Tamira’s and Clara took second and third. They want to be nuns. Last week it was my turn to help clean up the flowers from the altar. I had to dump two big vases of dead stinky flowers. Yuk! They staink and weare slimy.!

When I get home today, I have to give Mom an announcement from Sister. Ugh! I have to return it to Sister tomorrow signed by Mom.

“Is that you Beth? I’m in the kitchen, Beth.”

“Yeah.” I get it out of my backpack. “It’s an announcement.”

“Ah, so now the cChurch is allowing—, come to think of it maybe the word should be recruiting—, girls to be aAltar sServers. Anything and everything except a priest for us.”

I hope she doesn’t make me do this!. I don’t want to!. I don’t want to do that for anything. “Do you want to be a sServer, Beth?”

“No.”

“Well then you don’t have to. I’ll sign and check the NO box.”

“Oh, thanks, Mom.”

Whew!. Am I glad that’s over.

***

Janie has a birthday party every year, like the other kids. I go to their parties but. I’ve never had one. I want a birthday party more than ever. I keep asking.

, “Mom, why can’t I?.”

“I’ve told you. I have to work,; a party is expensive, and that’s the end of it.”

“I could have a small one, maybe just a few kids?”

“I’m tired of you pestering me about this.”

“Please, can—…may I have a birthday party? May I? Please!”

“Beth, be quiet.”

I don’t want to give any damn birthday party. Once I start that, it will be one every year until she’s out of St. Rita’s. She’s been pestering me about this since first grade. Oh, maybe giving a small party now that the kids are older might not be as bad as when they were little. I’ll still have to put up with their parents. Beth looks miserable.

“We’ll see.”

We’ll see? When Momn says that it usually means yes. “May I have one, Mom?”

“Oh, I suppose a small one will be okay.”

“Oh! Thank you! My first, very own birthday party!.”

“Janie!. I’m going to have a birthday party!. I can only invite five kids but that’s okay. My

mom’s going to buy prizes and decorations at Walmart., Mmaybe even balloons, purple ones!.”

“Purple’s cool.”

“Mom said we’re going to have a color scheme. Like napkins, plates and cups will all be purple, even the invitations will match. She’s going to buy a pink paper table cloth and bake my birthday cake, —chocolate!.”

“Chocolate’s my favorite.”

“Ugh!. My stop is next and there’s Sally again. She’s not nice., I try not to talk to her but she gets home from school when I do.”

“She goes to that expensive private school, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah, my mom says her parents are snooty., Bbye.”

I hurry toward my house., I want to get inside before Sally says anything but —she grabs my arm.

“Hi, Beth!.”

I push her away from me., Ooh no, I ripped ther collar!. How did that happen?

“You tore my uniform! I’m going to tell my mother!.”

She grabbed me. It’s not my fault I tore her collar. I go inside, close the door and check in with Mom, who’s on her way home. I get American Revolution out of mythe backpack,, Wwe have to read the first ten pages in Chapter Two, but I’ll read more. I like reading history books.

I’m reading at the kitchen table when I hear the front door.

“Beth? Where are you?”

“In the kitchen, Mom.”

“How was school?”

“Okay., I like history.”

“Get the leftover chicken out, please, I’ve got a call coming in., “Hello?.”

“This is Mrs. Reynolds, Olga. Your daughter shoved my Sally and, tore the collar off her uniform, and you will pay for a new one— that costs $150!.”

“What are you talking about?” I turn to Beth. “Did you fight with Sally and tear her uniform?”

“I didn’t mean to., Sshe grabbed my arm so, I pushed her.”

“Mrs. Reynolds, I’ll stop by with a check tomorrow. Goodbye.”

“A check, Mom? What for?”

“For $150. And, young lady, there will be no party. I can’t afford to spend money on a birthday party and that uniform too.”

No! She wouldn’t take my party away!. She wouldn’t!

“Mom, no! Please let me have my party!. Please!”

“Oh, stop crying. You need to learn only you are responsible for your actions. Maybe that this will teach you to think.”

“No, Mom, please., please, I’ve never had a party.”

“That’s your problem. The answer is no.”

“I saved some money. …Mmay I have the party? Please!?”

“I’m not saying this again—no.”

I never wanted to give that darn party in the first place.

I hate her. She knows I want my party more than anything. Why does she punish me so bad? She’s giving me her disgusted look. She won’t change her mind. She never does. I stop crying. I’m not going to cry anymore. I’m not going to argue any more. I always lose. I don’t care what she does. I wish she was dead!. Oh, I don’t’ really want her dead. That’s a bad thought. Now I have to go to confession. That’s a bad thought.

I’ll run away. I wish my real mother had put me in a home or something.

***

School’s almost over. I liked Sister Juanita. When I see Sister Emily in the hall I hate her. I don’t know if that’s a sin. I don’t think so since, she’s bad. Sister Juanita said we should always look for the advantages that are in every stage of life. A stage of life iThat’s like when I go to high school, or collage, or get married or get old. That’s nice, I think.

I went to Janie’s birthday party last month. All the girls in our class go to her party. This year we played a new game her mom said was pantomime. It was a lot of fun!. All the girls in our class go to her party. My birthday’s today, May 6th. I won’t have a party. When I think about it, I still want to cry. I don’t say anything though. Mom bought a small cake and we’re going to a movie later.

“Mom, a white truck just parked in front and, a man’s coming up the steps. He’s wearing…”

“…I’ll be right there, don’t open the door. Is there a name on the truck?”

“No, just balloons, all different colors.”

“Balloons?”

Mom’s opensing the door. The man is wearing a red and white striped suit and a real tall red hat.

“Are you Beth? I have a singing telegram.”

“No, just a minute. Beth, come here.”

I heard what he said. What’s that? I kinda laugh, I can’t help it., Hhe looks funny in that suit. He’s clearsing his throat, blows into a pitch pipe and is singsing “Happy Birthday” to me!. I giggle and clap when he finishes.

“It’s signed, Love, Uncle Harry, Aunt Jasmine and Jackie,” he says.

“Oh, Mom!”

“He never forgets your birthday, but you forget that Aunt Jasmin and Jackie part.”

“Excuse me,” the man says, “I’ll be right back. I have to get it out of the truck.”

“Get it out?” I say.

He’s opensing the rear double doors of the truck. He’s and lifts out—ing…

“Mom!” I squeal!. “It’s a purple Schwinn bike!. Can you believe it?”

Mom’s laughing. as sShe’s signs ing something for the man. “Leave it to your Uncle Harry to make a statement!.”

“Mom, I’m calling him right now!.”

It’s ringing.

“Uncle Harry! Uncle Harry, it just came! Oh, thank you, thank you, the bike is beautiful. And I never had a singing telegram!.”

“You have fun, cute stuff. Tell your mMom I’ll be in touch., Ggotta run.”

“Okay, bye. Mom, can—…may I call Janie? See if she can go for a bike ride in the park?”

“I suppose.”

“Janie, look, it’s even my favorite color and it’s a Schwinn like yours.”

“My dad says a Schwinn is the best. Not many people in the park now.”

“Yeah, I’m glad it’s shady—won’t be so hot. Let’s ride side by side.”

The path is black with white stones on each side.

“My mom said this is the best bike path in the city.”

“You know what, Janie? I can hardly feel the wheels going around. It’s like I’m on glass.”

“Oh, no!. Nick and Adam are ahead of us. I don’t like them.”

“Me neither. They see us. They’re stopping, are they waiting for us? Let’s ride fast past them.”

I stand up on my bike and pedal fast. It’s like the bike is pedaling itself!. It’s the best bike ever!. We’re getting close. Nick’s laughing, waving to Adam.

“Janie, they’re putting their bikes across the path!.”

Maybe I can get around them! Janie’s stopping. I can’t, going too fast. Maybe I can get around them. I jerk the handle barshandlebars to the left., I’m skidding in the stones and , I’m fall.ing, Mmy arm is bleeding. I don’t care. Did I hurt my bike? What if I broke my bike!? Mom will kill me!. What will Uncle Harry say? I get up and, drag the bike through the stones, trying to get back on the path. Thank you, Jesus, Tthe wheels are rolling. Thank you, Jesus. My bike’s okay, except there’s a scratch on the front fender. Nick’s staring at me.

“Hey, shrimp, did you hurt yourself? You’re sure stupid!.”

Janie’s brushing off my slacks. She says, “Shut up, Nick.”

“Make me, Janie!.”

“Hey, Adam, half- pint’s got a new bike—what a crap color.”

“Yeah, half- pint has a crap color!.”

“It’s a beautiful color.” I get off my bike. “Get your bikes out of the way,” I say.

“Make me, squirt.” Nick grabs my handlebars. “Hey, Adam, is the shrimp standing in a hole?”

“The shrimp must be in a hole. I can’t see her.”

“You’re a midget!. You belong in a circus!,” Nick says.

What does that mean?

“Beth the Midget, belongs in a freak show!.”

“Oh, shut up, Adam,” Janie says. “You do everything Nick tells you. Get your bikes out of the way!.”

“How much money have you got?” Nick says.

“We don’t have any money,” I say. “Janie, let’s go home.”

“I’ll let you pass, Janie, just hand over your watch.”

“No, that’s my sister’s watch!. I’m…I’m going to call the police on you!.”

“How you gonna do that, big mouth? You don’t have any phone.”

“No, …but …that lady does!. She’ll call the police!.”

“Yeah? What lady? I don’t see no lady.”

“OShe’s over there, on the bench by the sandbox,” Janie says, walking toward the lady.

“GAh, go ahead, ask her!. I don’t care!.”

“No!, Janie, come back!” Adam yells., “My old man will beat the crap out of me.”

“Okay, okay, don’t freak, Adam,” says Nick, moving his bike out of the way. “Let big mouth and the midget go through—this time.”

We ride fast past them.

“They’re mean,” I say. “Are they following us?”

“No, they’re just standing there.”

“That was good what you did, saying you’d calling the police.”

“My dad told me to ask a grown- up if a policeman wasn’t around. Does your arm hurt?”’

“Not much.”

When I get home, I park the bike in the garage and peek in the door. Mom’s not in the kitchen. I want to wash my face and the blood off my arm before Mom sees me. I don’t hear the TV or anything. I close the door behind me.

“Beth? Is that you?”

“Yes.”

“How was the bike ride.ride? Do you want a sandwich? What’s the matter? Your face, your arm,— you’re bleeding. What happened?”

“I fell.”

“Come over to the sink. This won’t hurt.”

She’s dabsbing the blood away with a wet dish clothdishcloth. The water’s a dirty red.

“Maybe you have to ride your new bike a few times to get used to it. Here, let me wipe your face. There, you’re good as new. Do you want a sandwich?”

I can’t help it, I start to cry.

“Beth, does your arm hurt? Is there a lot of damage to your bike?”

“There’s a scratch on the front fender.”

“That’s nothing to cry about.”

She hands me Kleenex. I want to ask her what it midget means, but sometimes when I ask her a question she gets mad, —like I should know the answer. Will she get mad?

“What is it, Beth?”

I wipe my nose. I don’t know what it means. “Mom, what’s a midget?”

She’s frowning. She doesn’t look mad. Maybe she doesn’t know. She usually knows everything.

“Nick said I’m a midget.”

“Nick?”

“Yes, and Adam said I belong in a freak show.”

“Oh, Beth, that’s ridiculous. Stop crying. You are not a midget. The word describes people who have a medical condition called dwarfism.”

“Dwarfism…?”

“That means an adult whose’s height is less than four4 feet, ten10 inches. A dwarf’s intelligence and life span are usually normal. You are petite and well within the normal growth pattern. You are not a dwarf, nor a midget, nor a freak. You’re perfect.”

I stop crying. Mom is so smart.

“Nick always calls me half- pint, squirt, stupid.”

“So? What are you going to do about it?”

“Huh?”

“What are you going to do? Are you going to take his abuse or are you going to tell him off?”

What is she saying? What am I supposed to do?

“The world’s full of Nicks and the world won’t change to suit you, so you better learn right now to stand up for yourself. You tell those bullies the best things come in small packages.”

“Stand up for myself?”

“Yes., Aand Sister Juanita is going to hear from me about this. Those boys are nothing but bullies. Do you want a peanut butter and jelly?”

“Yes, I’m hungry.”

I hand Mom’s note to Sister. I don’t know what she said;, she sealed the envelope. I hope they get it. Nick is the worst. He sits in the first desk in the third row. I always walk real fast past him. I’m almost in front of him. He’s looking at me funny, ginning. I’m shaky inside., Wwhat’s he going to do? My face won’t smile. I’m in front of him. I lean over, real close to his ear, and whisper, “My mom says the best things come in small packages.” He turns red. He’s mad. I walk away real fast and , sit downin at my desk. I told Janie what Mom told me to say., Sshe’s smiling at me. I’m not shaky anymore.

Sister’s readsing the note then. She puts it in her pocket.

“Good morning, children,” she says. “It appears that we might have bullies in our room who need our prayers to help them change their behavior.”

Sister is looking at Adam and Nick.

Bully, that’s what Mmom called them. We’re going to say a prayer? Is that all Sister is going to do? Aren’t they going to get it? They should get it, and —good.

I’m glad when school’s over. I walk past Nick, not looking at him. I’m get on the school bus and sit with Janie next to the door. “Hi., I thought Nick and Adam would get it.”

“They might. Didn’t you see what Sister did?”

“No, what did she do?”

“She gave Nick and Adam a notes. I bet it’s to their parents.”

“I hope so. They’re mean.”

***

Tomorrow is Mother’s Day. Janie and I are on our way to the mall to buy something. My allowance now is six dollars a week. Mom makes me save fifty cents a week so I only have five dollars and fifty-five cents. Most of the kids, like Janie and even Leland, get ten dollars a week., Tthat’s okay,. I saved twelve dollars to buy Mom’s present. The mall is crowded.

“Janie, what are you going to get your mom?”

“A scarf, a light- green one she can wear with her brown dress.”

“Do you think she’ll like it?” Janie laughs.

Janie laughs. “Oh yes, she always likes what we get her.”

“She does? How do you know what to get?”

“She drops hints.”

“Hints?”

Janie’s funny. I’m laughing, sShe’s pretending she’s her mom, waving her arms all around, talking like her mom., “Oh, if only I had a green scarf to wear with my brown dress!.”

“I wish my mom would drop hints.”

“Let’s go to Kohl’s. Mom said they’re having a big sale. But the silk scarves are too expensive so. I’ll buy poly.”

“Okay, I’ll get my mom a scarf too.”

We wait in a long line.

“What’ll it be girls? The polyesters are on sale for eight dollars.” The lady’s old.

“I’d like the green one,” Janie saysid.

“And I’d like the blue one.”

“Beautiful choices, girls.” She’s foldsing each scarf between sheets of white tissue paper before putting each them in a white gift boxes. She’s smilesing at us., “Your moms are going to love these. Scarves are in this year.”

I know what that means. Mom told me ‘in’ means it’s the style. Mom didn’t like what I got for her last Mother’s Day. She said the salt and pepper shakers didn’t go with anything.

We went to Mass like always this morning. A lot of moms had flowers. Mom said that’s a corsage. She’s reading the Sunday paper now. I’m kinda shaky. I hope she likes the scarf. I made a big pink bow out of pink tissue paper and glued it to the center of the white gift box. It looks nice. I wish Mom would drop hints.

“Mom?,”

She looks up.

“Happy Mother’s Day!”

I hand her the box. S and she’s opensing it.

“Isn’t it pretty?”

“Yes, it’s pretty.”

She isn’t smiling or anything. She’s putsting the scarfit back in the box.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s fine, Beth. You shouldn’t spend your money.”

She always says that.

“Janie got her mom a scarf too. They are ‘in’ this year.”

She’s putsting the cover on the box, without the tissue paper.

“I’m not Janie’s mother. I don’t wear scarves. I thought you knew that.”

I did it wrong again.

“It doesn’t matter. What would you like to do this afternoon?”

“I don’t care.”

I’ll listen hard from now on. Maybe I’ll hear a hint next time.

Chapter 7

Uncle Harry died. Mom keeps crying. I wish he didn’t die. We’re on an airplane going to his funeral in Chicago. I’ve never been oin an airplane. In the airport, everyone had to stand in long lines to be screened so no one kills us. I don’t know who they are or why they want to kill us—even themselves. Mom said it’s because they are Muslims and some of them are religious extremists. They believe people should live as Muhammad lived in the seven century because he was a prophet. They call God Allah. She said most Muslims are good and peaceful people.

The light goeswent on that means. I have to put the seat belt on. We won’t have to go to baggage, as, we each have a carry- on. Mom said Jackie is picking us up here, at O’Hare—that’s the airport. She never says Aunt Jasmin, only that woman. We’re standing on a platform in the middle of a street with a lot of people and suitcases. Cars, cabs, buses and real long cars keep going back and forth. Mom saysid the real long carsy are limousines., Sshe’s wiping her eyes.

“Beth, Jackie will be here any second. Watch for a white car., Wwe have to get in quickly or the police will—…there he is.”

Mom’s waving. He’s stopping, opening the door., Mom gets in the front, I jump in the back. He drives away kind of fast. I can see part of his face in the front mirror. His has glasses, —the kind with no frames. There is a straight hair line across the back of his neck like Leland’s when he gets a new haircut.

“And you are Beth,.” hHe says, looking at me in the mirror. He sounds nice.

“Yes.”

“What time is Mass in the morning?” Mom asks.

“There won’t be any Mass, only a service at the funeral home, which will start soon. We’ve made reservations for you—…”

“…What do you mean there’s no Mass!?”

Mom’s mad.

“We are not Catholic, Aunt Olga.”

“Harry was Catholic!. There should be a funeral Mass for him.”

“Aunt Olga, I’m—…”

“…I am not your aunt.”

“Okay., I’m sorry the arrangements upset you, but your brother was not a practicing Catholic. We’ve made reservations for you at the Palmer House, and a limo will take you to the airport for your return flight tomorrow.”

“Will your service at least be led by a priest?”

“No., Hhere we are. I’ll see you inside after I park the car.”

He opens the car door for Mom and me. The sign says Miller & Son Funeral Home. Mom takes my hand. I look up., I feel funny—, she never took my hand before. We walk through the doors. It’s a house. We walk down a hall to a large room where a lot of people are talking, sitting and standing. I see Aunt Jasmin way across the room, crying. Mom yanks my arm.

“Stop looking at that woman and don’t you dare say one word to her.”

Mom keeps pulling me along, walking faster past all the people toward the flowers and Uncle Harry. The air smells sweet. She told me he’d look like he was sleeping, but he doesn’t. He looks blank, empty. Mom said there would be a kneeler by the casket so we can pray for him. But there aren’t any. We stand together looking at Uncle Harry., Mom’s praying. , I don’t. I don’t know why. When Mom makes the sign of the cross I do too. She’s crying. I don’t know why I’m not crying. It’s like it’s not real or something.

I wish Uncle Harry wasn’t dead.

We never talked to Aunt Jasmin or saw Jackie again. We’ve been home now for a while. Mom got a letter the other day from a lawyer. Uncle Harry left her some money—that made her cry even harder. But she’s better., Oonce in a while I see her smiling, touching Uncle Harry’s picture on the piano. It’s Sunday, we’re going to a movie this afternoon.

“Mom, I’m going to wait outside.”

I sit on the front porch steps. I always think of Uncle Harry when I sit here. Oh, no!. Sally’s coming. I get up to go back in the house.

“Hi, Beth.”

“Hi, Sally.”

She has blonde hair like me, and bangs. I don’t like bangs. Sometimes she has pigtails. She’s jabbering about something, swinging, rocking back and forth in front of me, looking at me funny.

“I know something you don’t know.”

I don’t answer her. She’s like smirking or something. She’s weird.

“I know something you don’t know. I know something about you! I know something about you, you don’t’ know!. You’re adopted! You’re adopted! So there!”

Huh!. She said…how…Mom said it was a secret. “I know I’m adopted. I’m special., Mmy mom picked me out of a thousand babies. That’s right, run back home to mommy.”

Oops, Mom’s here.

“Was that Sally?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want her to go to the movie with us?”

“No.”

“Off we go then to Disney’s Cinderella!.”

Il’ll never tell Mom what Sally said. The movie was good and afterwards we had ice cream—chocolate.

***

I go to Mmass every morning like always. I receive Holy Communion if I fast an hour after breakfast. I don’t talk in line anymore. I’ve got Sister Elena Rossi for 5th fifth grade, she’s the

principal. She’s got a big nose and yells a lot, but she doesn’t hit us. There’s a clique. Doris and Charlotte and their friends are the smartest, most popular girls. Mom says their parents have a lot of money. Janie’s smart, and her dad makes a lot of money too, but she’s not in the clique.

If any of us write OMG in a composition we get an F. We had to write a composition again about what we want to be when we grow up. The only kids who ever win want to be a priest or a sisternun. I don’t want to be sisternun. But I figured I might win if I wrote about somebody who does good things, like a sister nun or priest, so I wrote about wanting to be a nurse.

Tommy and Tamira got first and second again, —but I got third.

I never wanted to be a nurse though, that was a big lie. If that’ was a venial sin and I died before I gowent to confession, I’d go to pPurgatory. But it’ was when I seeaw Sister Emily that I geot really scared. I hate her, really hate her. If that’ was a mortal sin and I died before I go to confession, I’d go to hHell and burn forever. I was so scared. Father wouldn’t be hearing confessions until Wednesday. I haved to wait two days. Both nights before going to bed I cryied and prayed that God wilould not let me die.

I had to say two rosaries for penance, then. I wasn’t scared anymore. But something inside me feelst different. Janie told me she was thinking about being a nun. Her oldest brother is a priest and her oldest sister is a nun. Her grandma is living with them now. She comes whenever Janie’s mom has another baby. I don’t want to have all those babies when I grow up.

I don’t have a grandma. I wonder if I have a real grandma somewhere. I wonder what my real mother is like.

***

I had Sister Margaretta Mendoza, who was nice like Sister Juanita, for sixth grade who was nice like Sister Juanita. The whole class had fun when she said we were going to do a play. She asked some of us to read in front of the class. I read Heidi’s part. IThat’s a story about a little girl whose parents are dead and she lives with her grandfather. Sister said we should read the lines with ‘expression.’ She said I did a good job.

I wonder if I have a real grandfather somewhere. We had to write about what we want to be again. I felt real funny inside when my composition won third so I don’t lie anymore.

***

My seventh -grade teacher is Sister Stefanie Lipinski. She wears a veil., Sshe’s older and is going to retire after this year too. She squints. She doesn’t wear glasses and s. he squints. When I told Mom, she said Sister should see a doctor. Maybe her eyes hurt or something.

Father Perez teaches religion every Friday. We’re studying now for confirmation. I know the seven sacraments and the Ten Commandments. We have to memorize the Apostles Creed and all the prayers and write them word for word. Father told us about capital sins, tThe Seven Deadly Sins: lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath, envy and pride. There are lots of sins, —and new ones called the Seven Social Deadly Sins. They are: Bioethical, using birth control things; Morally Dubious, like stem cell research; Drug Aabuse;, Polluting the environment;, Ccontributing to widening divide between rich and poor;, Excessive wealth; and Creating poverty. Mom said it was odd that the Vatican’s Bishop Girotti didn’t include a sin she’d call Exercising Excessive Power.

I don’t know what most of those sins mean, but Father said we’d understand more about the new ones when we’re older. He told us again how capital sins are all mortal sins, and if I commit a mortal sin and die before I go to confession I’ll go to hell and burn forever— so it’s real important I go to confession. And if I don’t confess at least once a year, that’s even that’s a mortal sin.

Next week Father said next week we’ll learn about Corporal Works of Mercy, like doing nice things for sick people, a. And Spiritual Works of Mercy, like converting a sinner to Catholicism so he can go to heaven.

Sister Stefanie is rubbing her eyes. “Children, ” she’s wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. “I have news about your confirmation. We’ve been notified that Bishop Esparza will be here next year and will confirm you sometime before you graduate from eighth grade.”

We have to wait because only a bishop can confirm us. A bishop is a successor to the apostles but Father Perez said sometimes a priest can do it, but it has to be special circumstances.

Confirmation is very important. It will help make me a strong and perfect Christian and soldier of Jesus. The Holy Spirit, the Trinity’s third person, will come down upon me and I’ll receive the His grace. When the bishop anoints my forehead, and hits me lightly on the cheek, it is to remind me that I must be ready to suffer everything, even death, for the sake of Jesus. I hope I don’t have to do that though.

Sister’s wiping her eyes again. “Have you been thinking about who you’ll ask to be your sponsor, and what saint’s name you will choose?”

All the kids are saying yes except me. I can’t think of anyone to ask. I’ll ask Mmom when I go home.

“Remember, you must pick a saint’s name and it will be your very own, so you must know the history of the saint. A good place to read about the saints is the library, or the Saints and Angels site on line. That’s the good news. U, unfortunately,. something very serious has come to the attention of Principal Sister Elena. When Leland had his last birthday party his parents were not home and many of you engaged in inappropriate behavior. Therefore, all of Leland’s parties are now off- limits and you are instructed not to attend any future parties Leland might give.”

All the kids are looking at Leland. His face is red. He puts his head face down on the desk. I feel bad for him. When he invited me to his party Mom made me pretend again to be sick. He knew I was lying. Janie went to the party and told me they played a kissing game. When she had to kiss Adam, she wouldn’t, so she quit. She said some kids were kissing a lot, especially Carol. The boys like her the best. I don’t know why., Sshe isn’t that pretty, except she has breasts. The boys seem to like girls with breasts. I haven’t started to menstruate or ‘develop’ yet. Sister’s saying…?

“…I’m going to give you a note for your parents about the party so this never happens again.”

Leland’s head is still face down on his desk.

“Now for a little fun with geometry. Take out a blank sheet of paper and write your name, geometry and the date at the top and draw a pentagon, a pentagram, a hexagon, and an example of an acute, right, obtuse and straight angles. I’ll write these names on the board and set the timer.”

I know how to draw them, they’re easy. Sister watches us though so nobody cheats, like getting pictures of them on an iPtheir phone. I like to draw the angles with my ruler and circles and arcs with the compass. I finish before the timer rings.

“Good, children, looks like most of you finished in time. Leave your paper on my desk on your way out. Be sure and give Sister Elena’s note to your parents. And remember, oOne of your parents must sign the note, and you return it to me tomorrow. Remember, walk to the busses.”

I sit with Janie. “Hi, I feel bad for Leland.”

“I didn’t tell my mom about kissing, or…” she says.

“…How did Ssister find out?”

“I don’t know. Somebody must have told their parents and they called Sister Elena.”

“Yeah, …that’s what happened. Did you have fun at the party?”

“No., Wwe never played a kissing game before. I was glad when my mom came to get me. But Sister and my mom doesn’t know everything.”

“What do you mean?”

“There was beer.”

“Beer? My mom would kill me if I drank beer. Did you taste it?”

“No!, b But some kids did.”

“Maybe it’s good I couldn’t go.”

“Are you going to get a new dress for confirmation? I might wear my sister Elaine’s pink dress. Mom says I’m growing like a weed.”

“I guess so. Pink is pretty. Do you have a sponsor?”

“Yes, my cousin Mary. Do you?”

“No.”

“What saint’s name are you going to take?” I ask.

“We girls all take the same name—my mom’s.”

“You and your sisters all take your mom’s first name for confirmation?”

“Yeah., Aare you going to take your mom’s name?”

“I was going to take Elizabeth.”

“You like St. Elizabeth?”

“I don’t know anything about her, I just like the name. Oh, here’s my stop. See you tomorrow.”

I turn on the computer and open Saints and Angels website. I don’t want to take the name Olga, I don’t like that name. Am I supposed to take Mmom’s name for confirmation? No one said I had to. Father never said that. I don’t want to take the name Olga, I don’t like that name. Will I hurt Mmom’s feelings if I don’t? I don’t want to do that either. What if there isn’t any saint Olga, then I won’t have to. …Yuk, there is.

Olga was a pagan queen. She scalded her husband’s murderers to death in 945 and

murdered hundreds of their followers, but later embraced Christianity. After she was baptized, and through her missionary efforts, Christianity was introduced by her grandson St. Vladimir. Her feast day is July 11.

What? Mom’s birthday is July 11. Was that why her mother gave her a Russian name when they weren’t Russian? Who was Elizabeth?

Elizabeth, beyond child-bearing age, an angel appeared to her and told her she would

have a son and she should name him John. Elizabeth is the mother of John the Baptist.

Oh, she was very important. What am I going to do? If Mmom asks me why, I’ll tell her I took Elizabeth because she was the mother of John the Baptist. She was more important than a pagan queen.

Father said godparents can be sponsors for cConfirmation, but I don’t know who my godparents are.

“Mom, who are my godparents? Father said everyone baptized has godparents and my godmother can be a sponsor for cConfirmation.”

“You have only a godmother. She was a friend at the hospital. I lost track of her years ago.”

“I have to have a sponsor for confirmation. I don’t know who to ask. A sponsor can’t be—…”

“W…whom. You don’t know whom to ask. Don’t they teach you anything at that pricey school?”

“I don’t know whom to ask. Janie’s cousin will be her sponsor.”

“We’re fresh out of cousins. Janie has an older sister, Elaine, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah.”

“How about asking her to be your sponsor? She’s old enough.”

“Oh, that’s awesome!. I will. Thanks, Mom. Ah…?”

“Yes?.”

“I wrote a story. Do you want to hear it?” I’m hiding thefour pages behind my back.

“Hmmm?” she mumbled.

“Do you want to hear my story?”

“Oh, I suppose. Is it for school?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.” I bring the pages out from behind my back.

“All right. Go ahead before I fall asleep. I’m dead on my feet.”

Janie liked it. I clear my throat so I read loud with ‘expression’ like Sister Margaretta said. “The title is ‘Uncle Shadrach.’ He was a cowboy who lived in a big house on a big ranch in Montana. He called his horse Spot because he had a white spot above his nose. There were a lot of cattle on the ranch, and Uncle Shadrach, riding Spot, was leading a cattle drive to California to sell the cattle for a lot of money. There were a lot of cowboys on horses and an old man was thea cook. He rode in the chuck wagon. One day—…”

“…Oh, Beth, for heaven’s sake!. Why are you writing a story? You don’t know anything about cowboys. I’m going to take a long hot bath. If you have homework I suggest you do it.”

Mom’s leaving, walking away.

“I do know about cowboys. I remember the Wwestern movies we watched with Uncle Harry. You remember, he called one of the cowboys, Duke.”

She keeps walking, not answering., I hear the bathroom door close. It’s a dumb, stupid story. Why did I write a dumb, stupid story for anyway? I throw it in the garbage. I don’t care.

***

I had her in fifth now I have Principal Sister Elena again now in eighth grade. Her big nose looks redder and she still yells. Janie’s sister Elaine was my sponsor at confirmation and I took the name Elizabeth. I didn’t know Beth was short for Elizabeth. If Mom wanted me to take her name, she never said. Graduation is in a couple of weeks. Next fall I’ll be a freshman atin St. Thomas Catholic High School!. Their football team won state last year.

I’m about to text Mom to check in when there on the desk isI notice the form for St. Thomas is still on Mom’s desk. I call instead of texting, Mmaybe she forgot. I call instead of texting.

“Mom?”

“Why aren’t you texting me?”

She’s annoyed.

“I wanted to talk to you because the application form for St. Thomas is still on your desk. The deadline is tomorrow.”

“I know.”

“Okay, you can do it on line. Should I boil two potatoes?”

“Yes, that’ll be fine.”

***

Olga ended the call. It’s ridiculous. Tuition to St. Thomas High School is almost eleven thousand dollars, which will probably go up every, year plus fees. The airlines and banks should take fee lessons from them!. Registration fee four hundred fifty, learning centers a hundred dollars each, bus registration seventy-five and about fifteen hundred for the annual bus fee, fees for an additional class, retreats, technology, athletic fee per sport, ministry fee— I’m being feed to death! Aand I haven’t even looked up course fees or cost of books, clothes, lunches. , Mmy God, I’m looking at sixty or seventy thousand dollars for four years of high school. No way am I going to lay out that kind of money. Besides, when Beth turns eighteen in four years I’m going to retire, my responsibilities will be fulfilled. That’s when I don’t walk, I run from Community General Hospital.

She’ll be disappointed about no St. Thomas. , bBut she’ll get over it. I turn onto our street. She’s at Ann’s, sitting on their front steps. There’s her brother, Richard, and who is the other kid? I don’t like boys hanging around, but that’s life. She better not let a boy in the house while I’m at work. If she ever got pregnant I don’t know what I’d do. They see me parking. Good, they’re leaving.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Hi., Wwho was that other boy?”

“Billy. We practiced for graduation today. Be sure and do the application tonight, okay?”

“We can talk about that after dinner.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean we’ll talk about it later.”

“I don’t understand. What is there to talk about? Mom, is something wrong?”

“Yes, something is very wrong. I know you will be disappointed, but I cannot afford to send you to St. Thomas.”

“Can’t afford? What are you saying?”

“St. Thomas costs too much money.”

“I…I can’t go to St. Thomas because it costs too much money? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Roosevelt is a perfectly good public high school.” She looks like I slapped her across the face. Life’s tough sometimes.

“No! Mom!, a All the kids are going to St. Thomas!. I’ve got to go to St. Thomas! Janie is going, to St. Thomas. eEveryone, all my friends are going. I’ve got to go to St. Thomas!”

“The tuition alone is nearly eleven thousand a year.”

“This can’t be happening!. I’ve got to go to St. Thomas. Doesn’t the school have a program for people who don’t have enough money?”

“Yes, but I don’t qualify. Millions of kids go to public school. You’ll be fine.”

“Father said the most important thing for everyone is a Catholic education to save my soul and lead a good life!.”

“A Catholic education is important, but I can’t afford St. Thomas and that’s the end of it. Ann goes to Roosevelt, doesn’t she? She’s your friend, isn’t she? You go to camp at the park with her every summer. Beth, did you hear me? Ann goes to Roosevelt, doesn’t she? Answer me!. Where are you going? You come back here!”

***

I can’t be hearing what she’s saying!. I get my bike and ride away. I can’t go to St. Thomas? How can that be? Mom doesn’t have enough money so my soul isn’t good enough for the cChurch? She can’t help it if she doesn’t have enough money. The cChurch is a hypocrite!. You’re only good enough to get a Catholic education if you can pay for it. I’ll be the only one in my class going to Roosevelt. I can’t crymanage to make it through my ride without crying.

I doid later, in bed, alone when Iin the dark went to bed.

Chapter 8

I graduated from St. Rita’s last week. I didn’t have a graduation party or anything. I don’t care. Janie feels bad for me that I can’t go to St. Thomas. Richard and Billy graduated this week from Roosevelt High School. I knew I’d be invited to Richard’s party, but I was surprised when Billy invited me to his. Mom gave me twenty-five dollars for Richard and I took twenty-five out of my babysitting money for Billy.

I’m sweating., Iit’s hot riding my bike to his party. I hope there’s Ddiet Coke on ice. The Roosevelt senior class must be big. S—scarlet and greygray balloons are tied to Congratulations Graduate! signs in almost every front yard I pedadle by. Ann told me those are Roosevelt’s school colors. Billy lives in a big house that’s right around the corner. Mom drove me past last week so I’d know where I was going. Awesome! There’s like twenty balloons tied to an olive tree in front of his house next to a way bigger sign: Congratulations Graduate Billy!

The house has a white column on each side of the double front door that goes all the way to the second floor. The red plants in the front yard are Yucca plants, the pink flowers are crape myrtle Tuscarora. I know, because they are in Sally’s front yard, too. Mom said the copper rose-colored rocks are expensive. They are on each side of a white concrete path leading to the front door. The party’s not in the house though. It’s in the three-car garage, where the song “Somethin’ ’Babout a Truck” is coming from. I like country music. Ann’s meeting me but I don’t see her.

I park my bike with a bunch of others on the side of the garage and peek inside. Papa

Angelo’s pizza boxes and all kinds of fruit are on a long table. I’m so thirsty. There are —washtubs are full of ice with pop and beer. Tons of people are at picnic tables, where there are scarlet and two gray balloons in the center. I hope Ann gets here soon. I don’t know anybody. I hope Ann gets here soon. I’ll stay here where she can see me. We aren’t going to stay long., Wwe’re going back to Ann’s house for Richard’s party., ohOh, she’s here!.

“Let’s get a Coke, I’m dying..” Ann’s pointing her index finger.

“Okay,” Ann says. “, Tthere’s Billy, talking to his mother. Let’s go say hello and, give him our cards so we can leave. A lot of people are already at my house.”

I grab a Ddiet Coke on our way. Mom said Billy’s dad works for the city. And when his mom sells a house, she posts a sign in the front yard that says Sold by Miriam. Ann’s walking faster, saying hi to a lot people. She knows everyone from Roosevelt. We’re getting close to Billy and his mom. I’m a little shaky inside—, he’s so cute. What will I say to him, to his mom? I hope I’m not staring at her bright- red lipstick and skinny black eyebrows.

Ann’s givesing Billy his card.

“Hi, Billy, congratulations,” I say, handing him mine.

“Thanks. …Mom, this is Beth. You know Ann.”

“Beth? I’m so happy to meet you, and it’s so nice to see you again, Ann. You must excuse me. My guests await. Have a nice time.”

She leaves so quickly I doidn’t have time to say ‘nice to have met you.’ when Ann pokes me.

“Billy,” Ann says, “we have to get home for Richard’s party. …Laura!” Ann’s suddenly waving both arms, trying to get the attention of a girl across the room next to the bananas. “Beth, I have to talk to Laura. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Okay.” Ugh!. I’m alone, standing here like a dork next to Billy. I drink some Coke. I should say something. Say something! “Ah, Billy, thanks for inviting me to your party.”

“Sure., Ttoo bad you don’t like my party and have to rush to Richard’s.”

“Oh, I love your party. It’s just…I promised.” I wish Ann would come back. He’s so cool!

“I hear you’re going to Roosevelt next year.”

I nod yes. Every time I think about St. Thomas I want to cry. It isn’t fair! It isn’t fair!

“You’ll like Roosevelt.”

No, I won’t!. I hate that school. I wish Ann would come back. I want to leave. I don’t know what to say. He’s so cool, and I’m a dork. He’s looking at Ann talking to Laura. Now he’s looking at me.

“Beth, would you like to go to a movie or something sometime?”

Huh? My insides churn like crazy. Is he…Is Billy asking me for a date? I never had a date. Nobody ever asked me for a date. Carol goes on lots of dates.

“I have to ask my mom.”

“What’s your cell?” He’s handsing me a pen and a gray napkin from the picnic table. I

write my number., Mmy hand is shaking, the numbers look funny.

“Here’s Ann. The Traitors are playing in an hour, too bad you can’t stay.”

“I’m sorry your parties are on the same day,” Ann says.

I’m going to explode. I can hardly wait to tell her what happened!. When I wait until we get to our bikes far enough away so he can’t hear me., “Ann!, y You’ll never guess what happened!. Billy asked me for a date. I can’t believe it!”

“He what?”

“Billy asked me for a date. Can you believe it? He asked me!.”

“Are you going to go out with him?”

“I have to ask Mom.”

“Do you think she’ll let you?”

“I don’t know. She’ll probably say no. She says no to everything. Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Oh, nothing., Iit’s just that Richard stopped hanging with him last year.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t say.”

I fly home. Mom isn’t here yet. Oh, I’ve got a text from Billy!.

what did she say?

not home yet ann sent me a picture of her new painting do

you want to see it?

sure

she said it’s a landscape of the park

is she a naturalist impressionist like Monet Pissarro Renoir?

i don’t know

yup, looks like she’s into modern art Monet and his buddies helped create the first movement of modern art send me your picture I just sent you mine

ah okay it’s my graduation picture from St. Rita’s

you’re beautiful

m’s here! i’ll text gtg

“Hi, how was work?”

“Don’t ask.”

“Richard’s and Billy’s parties were nice.”

“That’s good.”

“Mom, Billy asked me… Mom, may I go to a movie with Billy? He’s really nice.

Please?”

“He did what? Absolutely not. He’s too old for you. He’s 18eighteen. You should go out with boys your own age. And no Facebook, or that new site Fantasy, or texting or talk to him.”

“But—…”

“N…no buts. End of the discussion.”

I don’t really want to disobey, or do things behind her back, but iIt’s too late. We already text, and Billy deserves an answer.

m said no I can only date boys my own age I’m not supposed to be in contact with you at all

m’s over the top John Adams was 10 years older than Abigail when they married a love story like none other gtg

***

Billy’s right. Mom’s going too far. When Ann told me Billy was going to Philmore, I went on line. It’s an expensive, private university. Richard’s going to State. He got a small athletic scholarship there., Hhe’s not good enough to play basketball for a big university. He doesn’t care. He wants to be a chemical engineer. I don’t know what Billy wants to be. I’m not sure if I still want to be a teacher, but I know I don’t want to be a nun.

Roosevelt is a huge, red- brick, three-story building with a parking lot that takes up a city block. It was weird at first, wearing jeans and a white blouse instead of a uniform, not going to Mass, worst ever, not seeing Janie. I stopped crying about St. Thomas after a while. But it still hurts sometimes, knowing that my soul doesn’t count because of money.

My freshman year was mostly a blur, except for Billy, Ann and Mrs. Cohn, the English teacher. When she asked for volunteers, I signed up to work on “Roosevelt News.” She said I could work on the year bookyearbook when I’m a junior. And I like that the teachers don’t yell or hit me.

billy it’s weird here men teachers aren’t priests women wear makeup, red, even black nail polish no pictures of Jesus

u mml

not one teacher told a miracle sisters at St. Rita’s have a miracle for everything

Kant suggests a respectful distance be kept from claims of miracles and revelations

who’s he?

Immanuel Kant, a philosopher he acknowledges the possibility though

never heard of him there are lots of pictures of old men in the halls is his picture there

No gtg

***

My sophomore year would have been a blur too if not for Ann. I stopped looking for Jesus, just walked the halls like a shadow until she introduced me to her friends, Laura and Tina. Tina’s in my U.S. History class so we walk together now. But that’s not the big news!.

billy you’ll never guess! laura, tina, ann and I joined the drama club we’re doing the crucible

Oh yeah salem’s christian witch-hunt theocracy government lead by officials having direct divine guidance to defeat the devil

how could anyone believe in witchcraft?

christian fanatics are alive aws some think the play was inspired by mccarthyism

huh?

Wisconsin republican Senator Joseph McCarthy’s witch hunt for communists in the us during the cold war with russia in the 50s that nut case was stopped by president eisenhower ttul

Billy’s so smart. I was afraid Mom might catch me texting so Billy snail mails Vvalentine’s, Christmas, and sometimes funny ‘thinking of you’ cards. He says that way Mom won’t suspect we’re texting. I hate lying to her. I don’t confess it anymore either, there’s no point.

Ann’s got a boyfriend, George. I haven’t even had a date. I’d like to have a date with someone, even if I like Billy the most. The other day Steve and I were talking. He’d look at me, then at his feet, then back at me like he wanted to say something but didn’t. Maybe he….

The Crucible was an awesome success!. Mrs. Clausen, my homeroom teacher, teaches speech and drama and directs all the plays. Laura, Tina and I worked on props, makeup and stuff. Ann worked on set design. Carolyn, whoshe is very talented, played Elizabeth Proctor, the lead.

School will be out in a few weeks. I tried but couldn’t get a summer job at the park or McDonald’s. But when I opened our neighborhood Yahoo group there was a post wanting a babysitter. I answered right away and got the job babysitting Aaron three days a week, plus some nights and weekends, at twelve dollars an hour!. He’s four, a nice kid. I haved to watch him when we’ were in the park though—h. He grabs toys away from the other kids.

***

I’m so ready to be back to school. I’m a junior. I saved a lot of money, so Mom said I could buy a pair of jeans, but not the ripped ones, so I bought a pair of Blue Emma ankle skinny jeans at Nordstrom’s., Rreally cool!. On the first day of school, those of us in the Drama Club got emails from Mrs. Clausen telling us we’re going to do Roosevelt’s first children’s play, Molly and the Amazing Mr. Arnold. Laura and I auditioned and are in the play., Ann’s on set design again, Tina on makeup. Two performances will be on a Saturday in a real theater downtown. We rehearse in the auditorium after school and I better hurry or I’ll be late!.

“Hi, Ann, where’s Mrs. Clausen?”

All the kids are here. I wave to Steve. He waves back. Mrs. Clausen said she had to talk him into playing Felix, the villain, because she has trouble getting boys to be in plays.

“She must be running late.”

“She’s never been late before. Huh.? Here’s Mr. Miller. What’s the music teacher doing here?”

He’s what Mom would call pudgy—short and round. He always wears a black suit, a white shirt, and a long black tie. His glasses have thick, black, round rims and he looks kind a funny, but no one laughs. All the kids like him. Mrs. Clausen said she’s trying to talk him into doing a musical. TWould that would be awesome!. He’s walking toward me.

“Beth, Mrs. Clausen called. She’s ill and she wants you to direct the rehearsals until she gets back.”

My knees just buckled!.

“She wants me …to…to direct?” Mrs. Clausen asked me to direct?

“Yes, she won’t be out long. Are you okay with this?” He’s smiling at me.

“Yes, Mr. Miller, yes.” I can’t believe this.

He says, “Attention, everyone, I have an announcement. Mrs. Clausen is ill and will probably be back on Monday. In the meantime, she’s appointed Beth to direct in her absence., Eenjoy.”

He’s leaving!. Ugh!. Now what do I do? Kids are standing around, looking at me, —some are already on the stage.

when I hear myself say, “We’re on scene two in the third act. Will everyone please take your places?”

They doid! The play is already blocked, and everyone’s off- book.

“Go ahead, Carolyn.”

Oops, Steve got a prompt.

“Carolyn, start from the top and cross downstage right in front of Steve instead of behind him.”

I hope Mrs. Clausen won’t mind that I changed that. I sit, stand, watch, listen and see how the actors interpret the lines, how they react and interact, how asking Carolyn to turn her back on Steve made the scene much stronger. Body language, it’s awesome! The slightest movement, or a look canm tell the audience how one feels, —even thinks. Oh, I’d like this!. I want to be a teacher like Mrs. Clausen!.

“The scene was fantastic!. Steve, you’re a really good nasty villain!.”

billy I directed the play today clausen is sick how awesome is that????

congratz cool

it’s about a little girl lost in the desert and Mr. Arnold —an old gold prospector finds her

look out spielberg here comes beth gtg

I can’t wait to tell Mmom!. I leap up our front steps, through the front door.,

“Mom!, Mrs. Clausen is ill and she asked me to direct the rehearsal today!”

“Oh? What’s wrong with her?”

“I don’t know. I directed the rehearsal today!.”

“Maybe it’s the flu, which is no fun. It’s going around. I hope you didn’t bring it home. Do you feel sick?”

“No, Mom, I directed—….”

“I heard you. Set the table, I broiled chicken.”

On a beautiful, sunny, not-too-hot Saturday morning at ten o’clock we performed the children’s play at the theater downtown. turned intoIt was a huge success, and so much fun!. Some of us almost forgot our lines because we didn’t expect the little kids to interact with the play boo the villain., Ppoor Steve, he looked so surprised when they booed the villain. The kids even yelled ‘louder’ when they couldn’t hear us, and wow, did how they cheered when Mr. Arnold rescued Molly!. Mom couldn’t come.

billy the play was awesome!

if I were there i’d give you a dozen roses like the leading lady

carolyn was the lead I was one of the kids

i’d give you roses anyway will m let you go out with me when I’m home?

she said no before I even asked her!

m won’t reign forever ttul

Mom’s in the living room. She doesn’t know how smart Billyhe is or she’d let me go. I turn on the computer to do my homework. My essay assignment is to answer the question of whSetherhould students should be allowed to have cell phones in elementary and high schools.

…ah…a text…

hi, Beth, it’s Steve.

hi

How did he get my number?

ah, would you like to go to the football game with me friday night? ann and george are going a bunch are going together we’ll go to papa angelo’s after…hello?”

A date., Mmy first date, and for a football game!.

have to ask m are laura or tina going too?

yeah

h/o

I put the phone in my pocket so he can’t hear me. Good timing,— the news on TV is just over.

“Mom, may I go to the football game with Steve on Friday? A bunch of kids are going together, please? Ann’s going too.”

Will she say no like always? I want to go even if it isn’t with Billy.

“Is this Steve from school?”

“Yes, he’s in the play with me. He’s on the track team. He’s nice.”

“You’ll be in a group?”

“Yes.”

“What time is the game over?”

“Around nine I think. Then he said we’ll go for pizza.”

“You’ll go for pizza as a group?”

“Yes, I guess so. Mom, I want to go.”

“All right, but be home by eleven and not one minute later.”

She said yes!. I can’t believe

it!.

“TOh, thanks!.”

I fumble around getting the phone out of my pocket.

…

steve i can go

cool everyone is meeting at the north entrance at 6:30 george and i are going early to save seats

Ann told me she gave my number to Steve. She wasn’t sure he’d ask me so she didn’t tell me. She didn’t want me to feel bad if he didn’t. That was nice of her. Everyone likes Ann. She’s nice to everyone. She has the biggest brown eyes ever. Her short brown hair curls around her face. Mom said her hair is naturally curly. Mine’s long, in a ponytail. I wish I had naturally curly hair, b. But Mom said I should be grateful for being a natural blonde, even if my hair is ‘straight as a stick.’

The closer we get to the stadium the heavier the car and foot traffic. Mom told me it seats two thousand people,— looks like they’re all here.

“Ann, I hope George and Steve saved seats.”

“They will. They always do. What time do you have to be home?”

“Eleven.”

“It’s midnight for me on Fridays. George got his dad’s car so we’ll drop you first. Oh, there they are!.”

I wish I was here with Billy. We push through the North Entrance with the crowd. Ann’s waving to Laura and Tina and a bunch of other kids. I know Ralph and Sarah, they’re in the play. Mike’s in my Social Studies class but I never talked to him. Bart’s the brain in Computer Science. Mr. Hu calls him Bartholomew. He hates that. I’m jittery. What will Steve be like?

Ann yells, “There they are, …in the fifth row!.”

We clip-clop up the metal steps and, squeeze between Steve and Ann. when all of a sudden, tThe Cleveland High School football team, in blue and yellow uniforms, runs onto the field. People in the stands across from us are cheering, waving blue and yellow flags.

“Cleveland has a lot of visitors,” Steve says, taking my hand.

I’m not sure he should do that when I’m up on my feet cheering for our band, which is marching right in front of us playing “The Stars and Stripes Forever.” They look awesome in their scarlet and gray uniforms, shako hats with a tall scarlet plumes. Wow! Our team is runsning onto the field! and w We’re scream anding, cheer,ing louder and louder.

A voice comes over the loud speaker., “All rise for our national anthem.”

It’s weird though, how the sound of two thousand people singing is soft. The wind must carry away our sound. It’s quiet. After the anthem, eEveryone in the whole stadium sits down to , watch the gameing. Steve said the two football players walking toward the referee in the center of the field are team captains.

The referee flips a coin, then he touches the shoulder of Cleveland’s captain, pointing toward the north goal shouting, “First down!”

“We lost. I so wanted us to win., I think I’m going to cry.”

“Don’t feel bad, Beth,” Steve says. “We didn’t have a chance. Cleveland’s undefeated.” “I still wish we would have won.”

Steve and I are in the back seat. George i’s driving.

“We only lost by a field goal,” Ann says.

“Cleveland will play St. Thomas for the state championship,” Steve says. “St. Thomas took state again last year. Do you know any of the guys on their team, Beth?”

“No, I don’t follow them. What time is it? The pizza took forever.”

“You’re only ten10 minutes late,” Ann says. “It always takes forever. Everyone has the same pizza plan after the game.”

“My house is on the right, George, the one with all the lights on.”

Mom can’t get mad at me for ten minutes. Steve is getting out too. I didn’t expect that. He’s takesing my hand again, we’re atand walks me the door., Wwill he try to kiss me? I don’t think he should.

“Ah…Beth?, Yyou want to go to a movie next Saturday?”

AI’d have a second date?

“I’ll ask my mom.” I don’t want him to kiss me. I turn the key in the front door lock, slip my foot inside the open door. “Steve, thanks for tonight.”

“Yeah. …Llet me know.”

“I will.”

I guess I wasn’t a total dork!. He asked me for another date.

“Hi, Mmom, I’m home.”

“You’re late.”

“Papa Angelo’s was mobbed after the game. I’m only a little late.”

“All right. Next time call me so I don’t worry.”

“Okay. We lost but it was a good game., I met a lot of—”

“Wait for the commercial, I’m in the middle of a good movie.”

Chapter 9

How could my beloved son do such a thing? I can’t sleep, my heart iwas breaking. Billy, so gifted, so handsome, so young., Sso much to offer and on the brink of manhood!. I don’t know why he doesn’t listen to me. I’ve told him repeatedly to consider the consequences of his actions to no avail. And this time it’s not just another pesky misadventure. This horrid mistake could have long- term consequences, jeopardized his future. I couldn’t, wouldn’t allow that to happen. I ha’ve, of course, solved the problem. He, however, doesn’t know that yet. And he won’t, until I’m convinced he’s learned his lesson this time, realizes he must think before he acts!.

When I look back to when Clarence got me pregnant,. I was so angry I could have killed him. How wrong I was. To this day, I treasure that precious moment when I cradled my son in my arms, touched of his tiny finger, felt the warmth of his tiny body, looked into his wide-open eyes, unable to turn mine away. I succumbed to a love I never knew existed. We were the only two people in the world. I vowed he’d have a wonderful life, that. I’d take care of him.,

Bbut only him. Clarence kept his appointment for a vasectomy.

When Billyhe was little, if someone picked on him I made sure the guilty party—kid, kids, teachers or whoever— weasre reprimanded, immediately. I got that Jerome boy suspended when he hit Billy and took his cap. Fortunately Billy remained a gentleman and did not fight back. Early on, I taught him table and social etiquette, to be well groomed, dress well., Sso important for the class of people with whom he would associate. His merely satisfactory grades broke my heart because I knew how smart he was. Iand told him repeatedly he could excel scholastically in high school if only he’d apply himself. Then he met that girl who lead him on and got pregnant, had an abortion that cost me a fortune, in spite of mey having told him to always use a condom. But that’s history!. The situation now is far more important than that little whore.

Billy’s sitting across the table from me, looking miserable. It’s time to get this situation over with.

“Billy, do you realize, do you have any idea how serious being expelled from Philmore is?”

“Mom, I tried., I really tried not to disappoint you. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“I don’t understand how you could do such a thing! Why didn’t you ask to make up the test?”

“I did. It’s her fault., Iif she had agreed instead of practically throwing me out of her office none of this would have happened.”

“It’s not her fault, it’s yours. How many times do I have to tell you to stop and think, give a second thought to what the consequences of your actions might be to avoid disasters like this?.”

“Everything happened fast. When I mentioned the spot I was in to this guy Carter, he said he’d ace the test for me for two hundred. He’s one of the students on a hardship scholarship. He said he did it all the time. So, I took him up on it. He was one of the hardship students on a scholarship.”

“That’s outrageous. He’s nothing but a criminal. You’d think Philmore would screen the student body more carefully. I’ve told you a hundred times to carefully choose the class of people you associate with, not the Carters of the world. Did you think you could get away with cheating? I just don’t understand you, dear. You are blessed with a fine brain, good looks, incredible potential. Everyone says you’re not working anywhere near your potential, and now here you are facing expulsion. I thought you learned your lesson last year after the fraternity experience, when you spent your money on clothes instead of paying your fraternity accounts.”

“It was the biggest party on campus, I needed a new sports jacket., Aand, Mom, when you told me to enclose your check in my letter of resignation all thate crap went away just like you said it would.”

“Oh, Billy, please, please refrain from such language!. It’s ungentlemanly. It’s extremely important to maintain socially acceptable language.”

He looks like my little boy, not knowing what iwas going on or what to do. He’s suffered enough. I’ll get him off the hook.

“If I consider helping you, do you promise me that from now on you will consider possible consequences before you act?”

“Yeah, sure, Mom.”

“Do you promise me that no living soul will ever know anything about this threatened expulsion from Philmore, especially Aunt Agatha and Uncle Dwight. Why are you smiling?”

“It didn’t hurt Dwight Jr. when they gave Philmore tThe Dwight C. and Edith J. Endowed Chair in Clinical Law.”

“You’re right dear, money always talks, but that doesn’t change the fact that you paid that Carter to take the exam for you, and you lied about it. I’ll help you this time, but this is the last time, Billy. Do you understand that?”

“I do, Mom., Nnothing like this will ever happen again, I swear.”

“All right, dear.” I take the file out of my briefcase. “This letter is to Dr. Wilhelm Jackson, President of Philmore University, andthat states among other things, that you will not be returning. All you have to do is sign it., I’ll mail it registered mail, and this nightmare is over. Dad pulled enough strings to play Beethoven’s Op. 133 to stop the proceeding to expel you. In addition, I’m sure you will appreciate knowing that we also made it possible for you to transfer and complete your senior year at State. In today’s world, you must have a degree.”

“State? Are you kidding? I’m going to freakin’ State majoring in nobodies?”

“Billy! How dare you say that after all we’ve just done for you.? I had hoped this time you’d show some appreciation. How about a thank you? Don’t you realize what we went through for you? Dad didn’t want me to bail you out this time. It took me a week to wear him down.”

“Yeah, but Mom, how about another private university?”

“I investigated three, and each cost more than Philmore. We’re well-off, not wealthy like Uncle Dwight and Aunt Agatha.”

“Why didn’t you ask them for the money?”

“And tell them why I needed the money? Where are you going?”

“Out.”

“I thought we could chat, have cup of coffee together. I bought your favorite cake from Alvi Bakery.”

“I’ve got a date for pizza with some friends at the mall.”

“Oh., I’m disappointed, but that’s nice dear. You have a good time with your friends. Love you!”

***

Thank God, I’m finally out of there. I’m not meeting any friends, just had to get the hell away from her. Her game doesn’t end until she says the magic words: I’ll help you this time, but this is the last time, Billy. It’s amazing—, every time she says that she sounds like she means it. The rules of the game are: I have a problem, she pretends she won’t help or can’t help, I ask or beg for her help, and after I pay the price of listening to her yak she takes care of it.

She’s smart though, I give her that. If there’s an angle, she finds it. I have to laugh. She’d really be pissed if she knew I wasn’t sick and that smart-ass Dr. Yank doesn’t keep attendance records for her 9:00 a.m. lectures.

Great, the mall’s loaded. What a blast it would be to pull into the parking lot driving a Mustang like Dwight Jr. ButAnd what do I get? A—a red Ford Focus. I stroll through the revolving door, merge into the crowd on my way to the Food Court. T where the line’s a block long at Papa Angelo’s. Maybe I’ll get a Subway and just get the hell out of …here.uh? HYeyah, there’s Richard’s sister Ann in line for pizza, and she’s with —Beth!. She’s hot. Are things lookin’ up or what? We’ve seen each other around town accidentally during spring and summer breaks. Awhen all we could do was say hi, how’s school, have a good day, exchange smiles, nods and air-blown kisses if her mom, the tyrant, wasn’t looking who at the moment isn’t anywhere in sight.

They don’t see me. They are only one person away from ordering, yakking away. They don’t see me. I didn’t text Beth, so she doesn’t know I’m home. I sneak up behind her. “Hey, who are these two hot

babes?”

They whirl around. Beth can’t take her eyes off me.

“Billy! You’re home? Is ….”

“Hi, Billy,” Ann says.

“Yeah, I’m home. Beth, how about I save a table for the three of us. You buy me a slice with sausage and mushrooms and a large Ddiet Coke. I’ll pay you at the table.”

“Sure., Ddid you really say mushrooms? Yuk!”

She crossesd her eyes when she saysid that!. I laugh all the way to a table. I want to get her alone to ask for a date, or find out if the tyrant is still calling the shots. Here they come. I pull a chair out only for Beth. Ann doesn’t like me. Screw her.

Ann says, “We’ve got another week before we’re out for the summer. You’re not usually home this early. What’s up?”

“Ah, it’s a short story.”

“I’m all ears,” she says.

“You wouldn’t be interested.”

“Are you checking out summer jobs? Ann and I got one at Walmart,” Beth says.

“No., I’ve pleaded with my parents for two years to let me get out of Philmore, and they finally agreed to let me transfer to State.” I might just as well tell them, they’d find out sooner or later.

“Are you for real, Billy?” Ann says.

“I said you wouldn’t understand.”

“Let me try.”

“I’m sure you had a good reason, Billy,” Beth says.

“The best in the world.”

“I don’t understand why anyone would want to transfer to Sate from Philmore., Iit can’t be grades, can it?”

She is one freakin’ bitch!

“Ann, you don’t get it, you don’t see the big picture. I was drowning at Philmore. I couldn’t breathe in that world of the far-right conservatives and damn Evangelicals. I had to get in a liberal environment where I could expand my horizon, and State is my last chance. My mom’s okay with this, but not my dad only just, until now got on board.”

“You’re so independent, Billy!,” Beth says, “leaving such an outstanding university.”

“You’re right, Billy, I don’t see the big picture. Let’s go, Beth.”

“I’ll walk with you,” I say, with a plan A in mind.

When we get to the revolving door, I push it slowly., “Here you go, Ann,” I say, smiling at her. The minute she steps in, I step in front of Beth, keeping us inside the mall as Ann continues her journey outside to stand alone on the sidewalk. SIs she is pissed!

“Beth, I didn’t want to be rude and ask you for a date in front of Ann. Do you think we could go to dinner or to a movie tomorrow night?”

“I have to ask Mom. I hope she’ll let me go this time.”

I take her hand.

“I hope so too. How old are you?”

“I’ll be seventeen.”

“Okay, if m o t h e r says no again we’ll have our date next year when you turn eighteen, an adult. It won’t matter what she says then. And hey, we’re both going to be seniors.”

“Yeah, this is awesome, meeting like this, being together, hearing your voice, holding hands. It , seems…”

I put my arm around her.

“A…a little strange instead of a getting a text or mey nodding from across the street?”

“Yes.”

“I couldn’t believe my good luck when I saw you without your mMom!.”

We both laugh.

“Yes! Ann’s waving, I better go.”

“Text me if we’re on or off.”

“I will.”

I grab her arm and, kiss her on the cheek on her way through the door. I wait until she’s with Ann. I wave, I knew she’d turn around and smile at me. I wave.

***

“Ann, don’t be mad at Billy., He didn’t mean to be rude. He didn’t want to ask me for a date in front of you. I hope Mom’ll let me go this time.”

“You’ve had a crush on him like forever. Did you really believe that Philmore story?”

“Sure, he wouldn’t lie. Why would he?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t believe him. Did he pay you for the pizza?”

“Ah, no., I guess he forgot.”

“He should have paid you. Wasn’t it weird how he kept looking at himself in the mirror on the wall?”

“No, I didn’t notice that.”

billy not all bad news m & i compromised we can go out in six months can’t wait

cool

richard’s going to be a chemical engineer when he graduates i want to be a speech and drama teacher what do you want to be?

looking over my options charles de lint said…you’ve got to find yourself first. Everything else’ll follow gtg

***

Ann and I lucked out when we got summer jobs to put stuff back on the shelves at Walmart. There was new stuff every day—, plus shopping carts loaded with stuff people returned or picked up and then put down somewhere itwhere they didn’t belong so we put everything back in order. It was fun and, I saved a lot of money. Mr. Higgins, our boss, said he’d hire us again next summer.

But I’m so excited about being a senior and back in school I’m going to explode!.

“Ann, !d I can’t believe it! Did you get the email?”

“Yes, everyone in the Drama Club got it.”

“Mrs. Clausen got her wish!. We’re going to do Roosevelt’s first musical with Mr. Miller. Our senior year is going to be awesome!.”

“Yeah, The Addams Family is a comedy. My mom said when it was on Broadway it won awards. …ah…Tthe Drama League Award, Drama Desk Award, the…there was another one. I remember, she said the Chicago production won the Jeff Award.”

“Wow!. I bet Carolyn will play Wednesday Addams. She’s got the best voice. Are you going to volunteer at the Boys and Girls Club again?”

“Yeah, some of the kids can really draw. Are you going back to the senior center?”

“Yeah, it’s nice. The director needs help with the tech stuff for the seniors. A lot of their kids giave them iPhones or tablets for Christmas or birthdays, so they need to learn how to use them.”

“You’re good at the computer. That’s not for me.”

“Thanks., I’d like to do a play with them. The director said I could next year if I’m here. Are you going to be an artist? You know, have shows where people can buy your paintings?”

“I don’t know if I’m good enough. I want to do something in the art world. What are you going to do? You’re really good at the computer.”

“I like the computer but I want to be a sSpeech and dDrama teacher. I’ve never said that out loud before.”

“Oh, you’d be a great teacher and director!. You’ve worked on all the plays since that first time you directed, remember the children’s play?”

“Yes, I was so scared and this year I can’t believe I’m so lucky. I’ll learn a lot about musical productions before I graduate, not just plays. How lucky is that!”

“You know what? Mom and I started to research colleges. I’m going to meet with Riley too. How did you do on the SAT?”

“A little above average.”

“Why don’t you talk to Riley too? She’s a good counselor., Sshe researched a lot of colleges and universities for Richard.”

“That’s a good idea. I will. Mom hasn’t said anything yet about college.”

***

Olga heaves a sigh of relief. Today I submitted my lLetter of rResignation to the administrator, effective June 1st to the administrator. It’s far in advance but I couldn’t wait to imagine that day when I can come and go as I please, no more boobs, whining patients and bosses. My timing is perfect. Beth is in her last semester, and I will have fulfilled my responsibilities on her birthday in May when she turns eighteen—an adult.

I’m a bit concerned though, as she’s mentioned overpriced and overrated college from time to time. I can get her a nice job in billing at the hospital., Sshe did very well in her computer science class. Then there’s the letter of recommendation signed by the principal for a job at Kirkland National Bank that offers better benefits and pay. Whichever job she takes, I’ll charge her a modest fee for board and room, better known as Adulthood 101. We’ll have a quiet, peaceful life together until she leaves me someday to be married. She is such a pretty girl. I was relieved when thatis Billy couldn’t come home during the winter break for their date. I’d like to put off her dating him off forever. I don’t know why he isn’t dating girls his own age.

“Beth, it’s after six. Long rehearsal today?” Soon all this playacting nonsense will end.

“Mr. Miller and Mrs. Clausen appointed me Student Director. Isn’t that awesome? The show is really good., I’m learning so much!.”

“If you say so., I—…”

“…Ms. Riley said getting actual experience working on a musical will help me when I’m in college.”

“What do you mean college, and who’s she?”

“Student counselor.”

“You don’t need any school counselor.”

“Oh, I do. She helped Richard find a university so I asked her to help me. I want to be a sSpeech and dDrama teacher.” Why is Mom frowning? “There are so many colleges and universities it’s hard to know where to apply. She said besides State, the University of Washington in Seattle or the University of California Los Angeles are among the best in my field and the closest to me. She did suggest State if the out-of-state tuition is too expensive.”

“I see., Sso you think this Miss Riley is going to tell me what you are going to do once you graduate from Roosevelt.”

“No, Mom, she’s helping me. I did fine on the S.A.T. State has an accredited teaching college a lot cheaper than..—.”

“S…stop right there. I was waiting to tell you that I’ve submitted my resignation, but. I am retiring on June first. There is no way I can pay for college.”

“But…how can I….”

“Looking like death warmed over isn’t going to change anything.”

“But the only way I can be a teacher is to go to college. How about financial aid? Ann is getting a small scholarship to The Academy of Art and financial aid.”

“I’m tired of telling you I don’t qualify because I’m not at the poverty level.”

“But I’ve got to go to college. I saved a lot of money this summer. I’ve got a little more thant twenty-five hundred dollars!. I’ll have even more after working this summer. I can get a part-time job and go to school, get a student loan.”

“Your dinky savings is a joke when it comes to college expenses. And you’d be so deep in debt with student loans it would take you twenty years to pay them off. —Aand I will not co-sign. I know some parents even borrow money against the equity in theiris houses. I will not do that. This house is my nest egg. Anyone with a brain in their head should have a nest egg for when they are old, so you forget about State. Everybody doesn’t have to go to college!.”

“But…I’m sorry. …I didn’t mean to—…”

“You should be thankful that you have two job offers.”

“All the kids—…” I stop. There’s no point in saying all the kids I know are going to college. I can’t go. I can’t be a teacher. It’s St. Thomas all over again. I couldn’t change things then and I can’t change things now. Bbut I want to go, to be a drama teacher, with all my heart!. But Mom’s worked hard, she can’t help it if there isn’t enough money—it’s always money!. I’m going to cry any minute!. “Mom, I’m going for a bike ride. See you later.”

billy i can’t go to college m can’t afford it i’ll never be a teacher

sorry to hear that

i might get a job at a bank

that doesn’t sound too bad maybe you’ll pick up merrill and grannini’s mantle to democratize finance ttul

I looked forward to The Addams Family, even if the experience iwasn’t important anymore. It iwas a huge success. Carolyn iwas awesome, and is going to Julliard. When I text Billy, he saysid since he couldn’t make the show dates so now he now owes me two dozen roses. He makdes me laugh.

Steve and I are just friends now. I pushed his hand away, but I had to gostill went to confession anyway when he touched my breasts. When I was younger and something bad happened, I’d be so scared that if. If I’d died in my sleep before I went to confession I’d go to hell and burn forever. I don’t know why, but I don’t worry about that anymore., Iit sounds silly. When Steve asked me to be his steady I felt bad when I said no. I didn’t know what else to do. I’m sorry I hurt his feelings. I’d go steady with Billy if he asked.

Tina and Laura don’t go out with boys. They’re gay. A couple of Sundays ago when Mom and I were at Mass, Father Perez said it is not known if homosexuality is genetic or social and it doesn’t matter because homosexual acts are condemned by God in several Bbible passages and can never be approved by the cChurch, and that the Domestic Partnership Act is wrong. He said we should pray for homosexuals because they have a life of trials, living a life of Christian purity and chastity. I lit a candle for Tina and Laura.

I had a few dates with Roy and Sylvester, but only one date with Art. TWas that was a bummer!. His car wouldn’t start. I called Mom, but I was forty minutes late and she wouldn’t believe that he had car trouble. I was grounded for two weeks. I’m getting ready now for my senior prom. I texted Billy the dance date when Mom said I could go with him since I’m almost eighteen. Wouldn’t you know it?, Tthe date doesidn’t work for him, so I’m going with Roy.

Mom wouldn’t let me take four hundred dollars out of savings for a prom dress, so Ann and I went to this nonprofit place where we rented a long formal dress, not a short one. The lady said, “Ccobalt blue is the perfect color for you with your blonde hair.”

When Mom saw the dress, she gave me my graduation gift early because I might want to wear them. I never saw anything more beautiful. She gave me the string of cultured pearls Uncle Harry gave her a long time ago. I love them.

There’s the doorbell. Roy looks nice in his black tux and bow tie.

“Whoa, Beth, you are gawjus.…”

He’s handsing me a wrist corsage of two white roses.

“Thanks., Mom, would you take our picture?”

“Oh, Beth, you know I don’t take good pictures.”

“Please? I’d like a picture of my senior prom.”

“I suppose. Stand beside the piano. Makes a nice background. Ready? Smile!.”

“Let’s see. …Iit’s great!. You didn’t cut our heads off this time!.”

I notice Uncle Harry’s photograph, the one on the piano, is in the picture. Hi, cute stuff.

Suddenly tears are in my eyes. He said, Hi, cute stuff.

Chapter 10

“Beth, are you ready? I made reservations at the Seven Swans. It isn’t every day that we celebrate my retirement, your eighteenth birthday and your first job. Who knows, you might work your way up to being a teller.”

“Seven Swans sounds familiar. Did Uncle Harry take us there?”

“He sure did.”

“It’s expensive, isn’t it? Are you sure you want to go there?”

“I’m sure. Was that your cell?”

I don’t recognize the caller’s number; it’s not our area code. “HYeah, hello?” I don’t recognize the caller’s number, it’s not our area code.

“Is this Beth?”

I don’t recognize the woman’s voice.

“Yes.”

“This is Aunt Jasmin. I hope you and your mother are well.”

“Yes, we’re fine, thank you.” Aunt Jasmin? I’m surprised, Aunt Jasmin?

“I assume you’ve graduated and have decided on a university.”

“I graduated, yes.”

Mom whispers, “Who is it?”

I whisper “Aunt Jasmin.”

Mom looks furious!.

“I’m calling Beth, to let you know your Uncle Harry had planned to—…”

Mom grabs the phone!. I grab it back, I almost dropping it!.

“That woman is not your aunt!. You end that call right now!.”

“Hello? Beth, are you there?”

“Yes, sorry., Mom and I were just leaving., I have to go now.”

“I heard your mother in the background. Before you go I want you to know your Uncle Harry loved you, as do I. He spoke of you often and had planned on paying for your college education, as he paid for Jackie’s at Northwestern University in Evanston Illinois. Your uncle was a kind, smart, generous man who left me financially secure for life. I will honor his plan for you.”

“What? I…I don’t understand.”

“I’m saying I will pay for your college education as your Uncle Harry would do if he were here, to help you and your mother.”

“Do you mean, are you saying I canould go to college?” I sptuttered.

Mom’s glaring at me.

“End that call now! What are you talking about!? End that call now! Do you hear me!?”

“Mom, please stop it.”

“Beth?”

“Yes, Aunt Jasmin, I’m here. I don’t know what to say.”

“I hope I haven’t called too late. The only condition is that the university or higher learning institution is in the United States. Let me know what you decide. Goodbye, dear.”

“Bye. …Aand thank you!.”

“Thank that woman for what? What’s this college nonsense? How many times do I have to tell you that who…woman is not your aunt?. How dare she call you, butt into our lives? What did she want?”

“She didn’t want anything. She said she’ll pay for college because Uncle Harry planned on paying for me, like he did Jackie’s.”

“She what?” Mom’s face goeswent blank.

“She said Uncle Harry left her secure for life and that she’d pay for college. She asked me to let her know what I decide.”

“What you decide?”

“It’s college, Mom. I could be—…”

“D…don’t even think about it.”

“Mom, she’d pay for it., I could— be a…”

“…What’s that woman really after? If you accept that offer you’ll be...do you know what you’ll be? I know. …I know what you’ll be. You will be obligated!. That’s what you will be, obligated to her for the rest of your life!.”

“Obli—…?”

“…I’m warning you. Do you think anyone hands over a hundred fifty thousand dollars or more and doesn’t get something in return?”

“She didn’t say she wanted anything. What does that mean? What do you mean by obligated?.”

“It means when she says jump you say how high—forever. That’s what it means. You don’t have any decision to make, forget all about her and her phone call. That woman is capable of anything. There’s no telling what scheme is up her sleeve.”

“But it’s college!. I could be a teacher. What does ‘obligated’ mean?

“It means when she says jump you say how high—forever! That’s what it means.”

“I don’t understand. She was nice.”

“That woman is capable of anything.”

“Maybe if we got a second opinion.”

“What? What in the world for?”

“To help me decide.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’ve got nothing to decide.”

“Mom, it’s college, I could be…Hhow about Father Perez? We could talk to him. I’ll call him.”

“That’s ridiculous., Bbut if that’s the only way to end this nonsense, I’ll call him when I know my schedule at the hospital since you insist on wasting our time.”

***

I knew my schedule. But tThere iwas no way that priest i was going to rock my boat!. When I called, I makde it perfectly clear to him in no uncertain terms that I do not approve of this college offer from an immoral whore whose behaviors will infect Beth, who is extremely impressionable. Before that woman butted into my life, my retirement years promised to be perfect, with Beth at home with a nice job waiting.

That God damn woman took Harry away from me, now perhaps Beth? No.. I will not be left alone again. And this meeting with Father better be short, sweet and go my way.

“Beth, Father’s busy and I have to get back to the hospital in an hour, so let’s not waste any time.”

“Okay.” I follow Mom into his office.

Mom says, “Good morning, Father. Thank you for squeezing us in.”

“Good morning, Olga. I understand, Beth, that your Uncle Harry’s widow has offered to send you to college.”

He’s talking to me but looking at Mom.

“Yes, Father.”

“That is a very generous offer.”

“Yes, Aunt Jasmin telephoned and—…”

Mom cuts me off.

“A…and I told Beth college costs thousands and thousands of dollars.”

“Yes, it is expensive. Do you know what Catholic college or university you’d like to

attend? Do you know what you’d like to study?”

“I want to be a speech and drama teacher. It’s just that I don’t know if accepting her offer is the right thing to do.”

“The offer is a generous opportunity that—…”

Mom cuts him off again.

“…No, it isn’t. On the surface this situation may appear to be an opportunity, while in reality it’s a ploy, waiting for some gullible person to walk through its door and a make a major, lifetime mistake. A free lunch does not exist.”

“Beth, I don’t know your Aunt Jasmin,” Father says, “bBut I do know St. Paul tells us “generosity inspires gratitude, and gratitude inspires generosity, which is a virtue.”

Why does he keep looking at Mom instead of me?

“This situation,” Mom says, “has nothing to do with recycling gratitude. I explained to Beth that if she accepts thousands and thousands of dollars she will be obligated for the rest of her life to this unpredictable, manipulating woman who is capable of anything.”

“Mom, she’s always been nice to me.”

“Of course, she has. That’s how she reels you in. I’m telling you this offer is not what it appears to be.”

“But Mom, she didn’t ask for anything. Father, what should I do?”

“I can’t tell you what to do, Beth. You and your mother have to make that decision. But Ah…I suppose obligation might be a consideration.”

“It’s the only consideration, and I have to get back to work.”

“My next appointment is here as well,” Father says to me.

TAnd that’s it? He didn’t help me at all.

As we leave, mom says, “Thank you, Father.”

I don’t.

He talked to Mom, like I wasn’t there. I’m so mixed up. The meeting didn’t make any sense to me. I want to go to college with my whole heart! It’s like when I asked Mom if I could take piano lessons. She said I could, but to pay for them I couldn’t go to movies anymore. I didn’t want to give up movies forever so I didn’t take piano lessons. Seems like I’m in the same place. I don’t want to have to do whatever Aunt Jasmin says for the rest of my life.

A few days later I called, thanked Aunt Jasmin and told her I decided to work at the bank. She said to call her if ever I changed my mind. I cried when I hung up. I couldn’t help it.

It feels strange, knowing I’ll be going to work not school. But the really good part is Billy!. He’ll be here any minute for our first date!. I hope he likes my new dress. It’s Kelley green with a v neckV-neck, not too low., Tthe pearls are perfect. The beauty operatorhairdresser did an awesome job highlighting my hair, but was that expensive—, forty-five dollars. Mom said ithat was a waste of money.

..There’s the doorbell!. Oh, Mom, please be nice.

My hand is shaking on the doorknob. I turn it slowly.

He’s in front of me in a suit and tie, like Uncle Harry.

“Hi, Billy.” My voice sounds funny. He’s holding a long-stemmed red rose. “Mom, you remember Billy.”

“Of course., Wwon’t you sit down?.”

“Thank you, but no., Oour dinner reservation is for eight. I hope you like roses.” He hands Mom the rose.

“I do and thank you. I won’t keep you then. Enjoy the evening.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Once outside, I say, “Billy, can you…I can’t believe we’re actually here, —together.”

“What’s the saying? Everything comes to him—or her—who waits? You’re so hot in that dress you’ll burn the leather!.”

He’s opening the car door like Uncle Harry. I feel myselfe blush and, praying I didn’t turn red. Swhen I suddenly I laugh, —kind of loud!.

“What’s funny?”

“For a minute I waited for Mom to tell me what time I had to be home!.”

“Those days are gone forever. But she was cool.”

“It was nice of you to bring her a rose.”

“Yeah, …most mMoms—…you’ll like Mantovani’s. It’s named after a relative of the owner, Roberto Mantovani, who was a geologist and violinist. It’s my parents’ favorite restaurant. If you like Lobster Fra Diavolos, it’s one of the house specialties.”

“I’ve never had that, but I trust you.”

He’s putsting his arm around me, smiling., I’m jittery. I’ve looked forward to this for a such a long time.

“So, you’re not going to college.”

“No, Mom can’t afford it and, I can’t do it alone.”

“What’s Richard been up to these days?”

“He’s working in Los Angeles. Do you have a job yet?”

“I’m checking things out.”

“I’ve got a job at the Kirkland National Bank. Ann’s off to The Academy of Art.”

“She’s in a good field at the right time. She’ll cash in on the art trend over the next ten or so years when corporations will be sponsoring artists, galleries and art schools.”

“Oh?”

“It’s all about co-branding, marketing.”

“What does that—…”

“H...here we are.”

A valet opens the car doors for both of us. Billy taookes my hand! and I shiver!. We hold hands walking inside. It’s quiet, dim., Wwe follow a tall waiter in a black tux, who seats us at a table with a tiny, yellow, glowing candle in the center of a white tablecloth. I open the menu., Wwow, that Lobster Fra Diavolo is fifty dollars. I usually order spaghetti or something that doesn’t cost my date too much money. But Billy knows how much this is, so ordering it must be okay.

“A mango martini, sir?” a waiter asks.

“Yes, thanks, Tony, and a Ddiet Coke for the lady. We’ll have the cCalamari appetizer and two Diavolos.”

“Yes, sSir.”

“You order dinner like my uncle.”

“You said he was a professional gambler.”

“Yes, and very successful. He played in games that were mostly in private homes and hotels all over the country, Europe and I think even parts of the Middle East. Do you play poker?”

“I played a few times, but it’s not my thing.”

“I don’t know how to play.”

He raises his martini glass. “Ah…a toast to our first date.” He raises his martini glass.

I say, “To us,” my heart racing

as our glasses clink. when I’m distracted by the singer and piano player. “I always liked that love song, ‘You and I.’”

“Love, searching for your soul mate, thanks to Zeus.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The Wheelie People.”

“Wheelie people?…”

“Greek mythology. The story is about the origins of love. Why we humans look for our true love.”

“Wheelie People?”

“Yeah, Tthe wheelie people had three sexes—, men, women and a combination of both—, and two humans were together, rolling around and around, day after day, amusing the gods, enjoying life, offering sacrifices, and—…”

“R…rolling around?”

“That’s right., Wbut when they grew arrogant, Zeus had his thunderbolt in his hand. B, but the gods liked the aroma of their sacrifices and enjoyed their entertainment, so instead of killing them, he cut them in two. That way, humans would be half as strong, they’d no longer be a threat to the gods, and the gods would have twice as many humans to offer more sacrifices. And that, Beth, is why we humans have a driving force we call love—to find their our other half.”

“Oh, what a story!. I love it!”

“The ancient Greeks knew how to tell a tale. You’re a good little Catholic girl, right?.”

“I’m Catholic. What are you?”

“My parents are Methodist, I’m an agnostic.”

“What’s an agnostic?”

“The short answer is I believe it’s impossible, at least now, to know the truth about a god or future life after death. Doid you like the lobster?”

“You don’t believe in God?”

“I’m not an atheist. I believe there just isn’t enough proof evidence to prove or deny a God. You didn’t tell me if you liked the lobster.”

“It was delicious.”

“Dessert?”

“I can’t!” He isn’t using a credit card, he just signed the bill.

“Nothing but the best. Do you want to go to The Hut?”

“I heard of it but I’ve never been there.”

“I’m not into sports, and we’re way over dressed, but we could join the mob and watch the Dodgers. They’re playing the Chicago Cubs.”

“Could we do that another time? I’ve got an early morning training session at the bank.”

“Sure, how about a movie tomorrow night?”

“Sounds wonderful, Billy.”

It feels like we just left home, but instead our perfect evening is going to end soon. He’s drivesing slowly with his arm around me, my head is on his shoulder., I hang on to the silence, wanting to keep the spell, wanting never to let it go. But I have tocan’t.

He’s walksing me to the front door.

“Billy, thanks. The evening—…”

He’s pullsing me out from under the porch light, drawsing me close to him, we’re and kisses me. ingH, his arms are strong., Hhis hand…, I move it away, but I don’t want him to let me go.

“I thought this night would never come.”

“I knew it would the first time I saw you. I’ll text you about tomorrow. I think show time is around seven. Good night, Beth.”

“Good night.”

We kiss again. I float inside, never before so happy.

The next night Billy taookes me to the Rialto theater. It’s the only theater in Las Vegas that features only classic movies. Wwhere we seeaw Psycho, from 1960. He saysid it didn’t win an Oscar but is one of the top twenty greatest movies ever made. He likes the classics best, so we take turns every week after that picking a movie. We’ve seen at least eight. Aand afterward the movies,s he said he wanted totakes me somewhere for a surprise me.

He took me forto ‘the best Chicago hot dog in Vegas’ on Gomer Avenue. That was the first time he surprised me. He likes to do that, takeing me somewhere places I didn’t know anything about. The second surprise was Alice’s Hamburgers, whichthat are so greasy ‘you can feel your arteries harden.’ The surprise I like best, so far, is this little zoo.

“Billy, I never knew there was a zoo here. It’s blocks away from the street. How did you find it?”

“My secret. Do you like it?”

“Oh, yes., Llet’s wait, maybe Mr. Peacock will spread his tail for us.”

“Okay, Beth, I’ve asked you before but you haven’t answered me. How about usour finding a place and moving in together? What do you say? Don’t look away. What do you say?”

“It’s too soon, Billy., Bbesides, I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Fornication is a sin.”

“Ah, yes, my good little Catholic girl who believes—…”

“L…look! Mr. Peacock’s spreading his tail. It’s a wonder, isn’t it?”

“What’s a wonder?”

“The beauty of his tail, all the birds we just saw, the colors, the designs. God did a good job.”

“I don’t believe in your personal god, heaven, hell, miracles. I agree with Thomas Paine’s take on religion in society. In his Age of Reason, he wrote, ‘“My country is the world and my religion is to do good., Belief in a cruel God makes a cruel man., Aany system of religion that shocks the mind of a child cannot be true. Some—’…”

“S…shocks? Who is Thomas Paine?.” A religion isn’t true if it scares a child?

“You never heard of Thomas Paine? Guess that’s no surprise, you going to a parochial school. His writings influenced our revolution, a thing called the Declaration of Independence.”

“Was he an atheist?”

“No, a deist.”

“What’s a deist?”…

“S…somebody who believes in the existence of god or gods as ruler of the universe based on nature, human reason and experience. Deism isn’t based in, and rejects, revealed religions like Judaism, Christianity and Islam.”

“Because we believe in the Bbible?”

“Yeah, they don’t believe God reveals his will to people as described in sScripture. I don’t care what anyone believes. B, but I won’t be going to any mMass. It’s too bad what you believe won’t let us live together. Maybe you’ll change your mind.”

“I want to be with you, be together, but I know I won’t change my mind.”

“If you say so. Let’s stop at the gift stand.”

Later, when I geot home and go went to bed, I put Mr. Peacock’s tail feather that Billy bought for me under my pillow and fall asleep in his arms.

“Mom, how do you know if you’re in love?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, that’s a ridiculous question. Don’t tell me you’re getting carried away withbut this Billy. You’ve only been dating for how long? Three, four months? You don’t know him at all.”

“But I do know him, we’ve been in touch for a long time.”

“Once a year, cCards, some photographs and text messages don’t mean a thing. He’s probably been sending the same stuff to all the girls he’s dating.”

“I don’t think so. When he transferred to State we texted almost every day.”

“It doesn’t matter., Iit’s face- to- face meetings where you learn about each other. And it’s a colossal mystery to me why he would transfer from Philmore to State. If you find out, let me know. He did graduate, right?”

I’m not going to tell her why.

“Yes, I guess so. His parents didn’t give him a party though.”

“What is his field? Where is he working?”

“He said he’s going to get a job in the Department of Building and Safety.”

“Going to get a job?. What’s he been doing all this time?”

“I’m not sure., I think he said he was doing something with his dad.”

“That’s no surprise. Is he an architect?”

“No.”

“Engineer?”

“No.”

“Well, what’s his field?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t tell me— he got a Bachelor of Trivia, void of any marketable skill, so that leaves it up to his daddy, who works for the city, who is probably going to get him that city job.”

“So what? You were going to get me a job for at the hospital.”

“Yes, because you are qualified and you had a letter of recommendation from your principal. I don’t see where this Billy guy is qualified to do anything, and that includes the Building Department.?”

“Stop it, Mom. Billy is smart!.”

“Don’t you get smart with me!. What can smart Billy do? How can he work for that city dDepartment if he doesn’t know anything about construction, electricity, plumbing, land, zoning or a million other considerations? Well, tell me, what does he do?”

“I don’t know!. I don’t’ know! I don’t care if he isn’t an architect or an engineer!.”

“You’re young, only eighteen, and you’re only infatuated with a handsome guy with an engaging smile who is more sophisticated than the other boys you know. That’s not love. Come back here! Where are you going?”

“For a bike ride. I won’t be home for dinner.”

“Well calm down or you’ll have an accident. Dinner’s at six.”

***

I look out the front window, watching her ride away. She’s growing up, that’s all. I know she will marry and, leave me someday, but certainly not now, not for him. She’s too young., Sshe likes her job., Wwe have a good life, for God’s sake. All of this Billy stuff will blow over sooner rather than later, although she obviously likes him. Her demeaner changes markedly when she’s with him. The minute he steps through the front door, her gentle smile turns bright and, she can’t keep her eyes off him. And him giving me that rose on their first date was a slippery touch.

Oh, I’m exaggerating. Beth will cool down. She’ll be here for dinner.

***

I can’t get away fast enough. Why did I talk to her? I should know better by this time. I text Billy: Billy I’m going for a bike ride in the park can u meet me?

be there in a few minutes

I sit on a bench to wait. I knew he’d come!. “Oh, Billy….” I love him with my whole heart, my whole heart, I know I do.

“What’s up? What’s with the tears?”

“Fight with Mom.”

“Come here.”

He’s takesing me in his arms, kissesing my forehead.

“She’s a piece of work, that one. She’s threatened, jealous, scared you’ll leave her., Ppsychology 101. She wants to control you. You either put up with her crap or consider the alternative we talked about.”

“I can’t do that, Billy!. I just can’t.”

“Okay, okay, but this is the third time she’s freaked you out. What was theis fight about this time?”

“UAh, us., Tthe job you have.”

“My job? Screw her. She’s going to turn you into a crabby old maid if you don’t do something. What do you want to do, —get married?”

“I thought maybe we would someday. I love you, Billy. I want to be with you. Do you think we could, you know, get married someday?”

“MAh, maybe., I suppose.”

“Let’s think it over.”

“Sure.”

***

Momiriam ’s looks likesure she’s on the verge of a heart attack.

“Billy, no., Even iif she’s pregnant, you don’t have to marry the whore!. You know that.”

With perfectly manicured finger nailsfingernails that match her Fire Engine Red lipstick, she wipes tears away with a Kleenex.

“Do not let this girl ruin your life!.”

“She isn’t pregnant, Mom,” he I sayid, chuckling. He I haved himyself a virgin.

“There isn’t anything funny about what’s going on here!. Why are you doing this? Your future is at stake. She is not the kind of girl you should marry. You should marry someone like Morgan. She’s lovely, you liked her. She graduated from Vassar. Her family is among the wealthiest in Nevada. That’s the kind of girl you should marry.”

“Morgan’s a gimp.” She dumped me, screw her., and I did.

“Watch your language and stop smirking. I’m terrified for you, dear. Dad and I can’t understand why you are doing this. She’s from a single- parent home, a Catholic., Yyou know how we feel about Catholics., Sshe’s a high school graduate employed as a proof-machine operator at Kirkland Nationala bBank. Aand if that isn’t bad enough, she’s adopted. God only knows what hereditarywhat hereditary genes she might be carrying.”

“How did you know she’s adopted? She only told me last week.”

“Dad has connections, you know that., Bbut he’s having trouble finding out who her biological mother is, or who the father is…, if anyone knows who he is.”

“I don’t care, Mom.,” he says,I’m enjoying her anguish.

“Dad cares!. I care!. She could have some genetic disease you don’t know anything about.”

“She has her medical history. There’s no diabetes or epilepsy.”

“And you believe her? What’s the matter with you? You hardly know this girl.”

“We’re getting married. You’ll like Beth once you get to know her. Y, you only met her once when the four of us went to the rugby tournament.”

“She barely said a word.”

“She’s a little shy.”

“You’re not ready for marriage. You should be concentrating on what you’d like to be or do. Establish yourself in a career path and enjoy the better things in life instead of saddling yourself with this nobody.”

“The chapel is reserved.”

“This is absurd!. You don’t have any money. How are you going to live? Where are you going to live?”

“Beth’s looking for a furnished studio apartment.”

“That will be expensive. How are you going to pay rent, utilities, food, clothing, healthcare, iPhone, computer, credit card and car payments? You’re not making much money, you’re not even full time yet.”

“Beth’s full time at the bank.”

“She can’t be earning more than twenty-four thousand a year!. How far do you think that will go after taxes? Can’t you at least wait, give this more thought, date other girls?. Is there anything I can say to change your mind, or at least postpone your decision?”

“No, I’m not going to change my mind.”

“Perhaps something will happen between now and your wedding that will change your mind. Oh, Billy, you come from a well-respected, financially successful family., Yyou have so much to offer, such potential, marrying you is a big step up for this Beth. How do you know she isn’t using you?”

“Give it a rest, Mom!.” he laughed, “She’s crazy about me!.”

“She loves you?”

“That’s what she says.”

“Do you love her?”

“Sure, get with the program.”

“The program is a mistake. But, …I’m your mother., I will support you if you go through with this. I don’t know if I can convince your father.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

I kiss her cheek. I knew she’d come around., Sshe always comes around., Iit just takes longer sometimes. —Dad? He’s nowhere.

“By the way, Mom, I should give Beth a ring. Can you loan me a thousand?”

Whoa! Her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline.

“How dare you ask me to pay for an engagement ring.? How will you repay a thousand dollars? You owe me a small fortune now.”

“Why are you freaking out? I just thought she should have a ring.”

“Please watch your language!. She’s not getting any engagement ring from me.”

***

He’s had an obstinate streak since he was little. And I don’t know how to protect him from making this terrible mistake. If when Clarence gets home we have another fight over whether or not to support Billy and he doesn’t come around, Billy might walk out. Dear God, what will happen to him then? I wouldn’t, couldn’t stop him. I have no choice but to make the best of this horrible situation, to go along, praying something happens between now and their wedding that will end this charade. If not, I hope they divorce quickly so he gets his life back before he has to support a bunch of kids for the Catholic Church.

***

“Why such a serious look, Beth?”

“Mom, I’ve got something important to tell you.”

“Oh?”

“Please don’t get upset.”

“For heaven’s sake, what’s on your mind?.”

“Mom, Billy and I are going to get married. I love him so much!.”

She’s staring at me, like she didn’t hear me.

“Mom? I’m going to marry Billy.”

“That’s the dumbest, most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said., Oor is it April, April first and this is, a lousy joke?.”

“I’m not joking.”

“Oh, Beth, for God’s sake, marrying that Billy is the most absurd, stupid thing you could possibly do. You’re too young, it’s too soon., Yyou’ve only been seeing him for what? Six months? You have a good job, you have a good life the way we are., Yyou have plenty of time ahead of you. I want you to marry someday, have a family of your own, but you’re not seeing Billy clearly. Tell me I did not hear you say you were going to marry him!.”

“That’s what I said, Mom. I love him.”

“Beth, you’re all I have in the whole world. What about us? And how are you going to live? The country is not in a recession, job market is terrific, yet he doesn’t even have a decent job, or any skill or trade that I can see., Sso what’s his excuse? How are you going to pay your bills?”

“He expects to work full time soon. We’re engaged. He gave me his fraternity pin.”

“His what? How touching!. You have a pin instead of a ring because he either can’t afford to buy one or he’s a miser. In either event, he’s pathetic.”

“I don’t care that he can’t afford a ring.”

“I beg you, Beth, don’t do this. You’re not going to leave me, are you? You’re all I have.” How could she leave me!? It’s too soon!. If she does, I’ll be alone again, after all I’ve done for her.

“I love him.”

I leave her alone in the living room, go into my bedroom and close the door. I get the overflowing shoe boxshoebox out of the closet and read all the cards he has sent me. I love him and he loves me, Mom.

I’d like to have an engagement ring, but Billy couldn’t afford one and that’s all right. I wear the fraternity pin every day. We’re going to be so happy!. He’ll be successful. He’s a college graduate, he’s smart, he’ll find what he wants to do., be W—we’ll be fine.

We talk and talk and talk and he tells me about events and people and places I’ve never heard of. Like the Civil War was first about saving the union, then about freeing the slaves, since slavery had become an economic loser., He explainsand what a genius Leonardo De Vinci was, how the U. S. Congress is bought and paid for, and that he believes in Darwin’s theory that we evolved.

Father Perez says that’s okay for our bodies to evolve from previous biological forms under God’s guidance, but God created the human soul.

I love to hear Billy talk. I’ll be the best wife ever. When we make love, I’ll remember the line from a book I read:, ‘be a lady, but a woman with your man.’ I’ll be a woman for Billy. I didn’t tell Mom I went to the doctor for birth control pills. I don’t want to have one baby after another like Janie’s mom. She’s pregnant almost every eighteen18 months. I accidentally metran in to Janie at Papa Angelo’s the other day and she told me they had to buy a new house because there are eleven kids in their family now.

I don’t believe birth control is a sin. It’s like the cChurch turns having a baby into a punishment for loving someone instead of a treasure. I won’t bother going to confession. There’s no point since I’ll take the pills until we want a baby. I hope we have two children someday. Billy’s parents are Methodists. He told me to be prepared—, they don’t like Catholics. Bbut he said they’ll come around. He said he hopes we have a perfect marriage like his parents.

They are polite to me, but I know they don’t like me. And I don’t like what his mother did. I really hurt me. It began when I started looking early Saturday and Sunday mornings for a furnished apartment. Billy was too busy to go with me so I was happy when he liked the one I found. The rent was six hundred a month. Even if I don’t know how much money Billy makes, with the two of us working I guessed we’d be okay. We were excited, ready to move in, when he toeldls me his mother found a furnished, four roomfour-room apartment and paid the rent for six monthas as wedding present ‘to give us a start.’

I didn’t like that at all. What will we do if when the six months is up we can’t afford to pay the nine hundred a month rent? We’ll have to move. And that’s not all. It’s only a block from his parents, but miles from Mom, the bank and St. Rita’s. I’ll have to go to Our Lady of Guadalupe. Mom hasn’t said much to me about the wedding, except I know she wants me to get married at St Rita’s not the chapel.

She says things like, St. Rita is where you were baptized, where you made your first communion, where you were confirmed, marriage is a sacrament, downtown chapels are for tourists. Truth is, I want Father Perez to marry us at St. Rita’s too. I’m afraid to ask Billy., I can’t get the words out. If he says no, that his parents would give him grief, I’d have to get married in the chapel, but I would not be married in the eyes of the cChurch. I don’t want to do that!. I’m ripped up inside.

when suddenly I blurt, “Billy, I don’t want to be married in that chapel. Marriage is a sacrament. I want Father Perez to marry us at St. Rita’s.”

He looks at me like I’m from Mars, but he’s smiling.

“Okay.”

Okay? He just said okay. and I made myself miserable for weeks, afraid to ask him, and all he said was okay!?

Am I a dork or what?

I called Father the next day to make arrangements. and did I freak!Wow! I didn’t know there were so many rules!. I haved to have permission from the bishop to marry a baptized non-Catholic Christian and enter into a mixed marriage., Wwe also have to join an orientation group and attend a series of sessions led by a married couple.

Billy didn’t think much of that idea, orand when I told him for our marriage to be valid we both haved to attest to four requirements in front of two witnesses: we’re free to marry; we freely agree to marry;, we intend to marry for life and will, be faithful to one another; and we will be open for children. I was afraid he’d bolt so instead of telling him I gave him athe pamphlet to read. When he said he’d ‘attest’ to the requirements and to raising our kids Catholic, I cried. He held me in his arms for a long time.

I go to all the group sessions., Hhe only goeswent to the first one. He either hasd to work, iwas sick or hasd to do something for his mom.

\

Chapter 11

“Beth, I’m not going to any tea. Who in the world gives teas?, Tthat Miriam has herself confused with the Queen of England.”

“It’s a bridal shower tea, Mom. They’re ‘in’ I guess.”

“All of this is wrong. You’re making a terrible mistake. Isn’t there anything I can say to change your mind?”

“No., I love Billy and he loves me. Miriam said the only people coming to the tea are from her sorority.”

“Since you insist on going ahead with this marriage, you and Billy can just move in with me. I will furnish and redecorate your bedroom and turn Uncle Harry’s into a sitting room with a TV so you would have some privacy. That way—…”

“…Mom, stop. We have an apartment.”

“An apartment? Have you signed a lease? Maybe you can get out of it. You can live with me rent free. I sure don’t see how you are going to pay your bills unless your Billy finally got a decent job. Well, has he? Have you signed a lease?”

“Not exactly. It’s nice of you to be willing to go to all that trouble and expense for us, but the apartment is a wedding gift from Miriam and Clarence.”

“You mean to tell me they are going to pay your rent? Answer me!”

“For six months. Could we get back to the tea? I could have invited—…”

“Where is this apartment?”

“South Rainbow Boulevard.”

“That’s miles from me and St. Rita’s!.”

“I know., Tplease, there isn’t anything I can do about the apartment. Please go to the tea with me. Billy says his mom is being nice, wants to introduce me to her ‘sisters.’ You have to meet Miriam sometime. I could have invited Ann, Tina and Laura if they weren’t in school. Please, you have to go.”

“I don’t have to do anything. I don’t agree with any of this. Oh, don’t look like the world just stopped. I suppose I can survive a couple of hours on one Saturday afternoon. It’s odd though, Miriam being so ‘in,’ so sophisticated, that she’s having this tea in her home instead of a hotel or at Mantovani’s.”

I didn’t tell Mom that I don’t want to be here in Miriam’s dining room either. I feel like a dork. I don’t know what to say to these women. When we got here, she introduced us to everyone, but I don’t’ remember anyone’s name. I thought sororities were only in colleges and universities until I read about them, and teas, on the Internet.

Ugh., I hope my dress is okay. It’s white, scoop neck and sleeveless with small light- blue flowers scattered here and there. Mom looks nice in her yellow dress. The room is pretty, especially the large bouquet of white roses reflected in the large mirror on the wall above the buffet, whichthat is covered with miniature cupcakes, scones and open- faced sandwiches, just like the website said. The tea potteapot is silver. A maid is serving tea in paper-thin China cups and saucers. I have to remember not to blow on the tea, to stir it gently, and don’t ever stick out my little finger—, that’s the worse faux pas ever.

“You said the buzz word!,” saysid the woman next to me. Her place card says Valerie. “Give me your clothespin, Gladys!.”

The website said this game is an ‘ice breaker.’

“Valerie, bride shouldn’t be the buzz word., Hhow—…”

“Ggive me your clothespin, Linda!,” Val says, laughing., “I plan on being the winner. Is the prize a trip to Paris, Miriam?”

Everyone laughs.

“It’s hard not to say you’re going to be a beautiful b-r-i-d-e, Beth.”

“Hand it over, Elaine!,” Val says, taking her clothespin. “Spelling the word counts!. Olga, I understand you’re at Community General. You and Beth might want to join us at our fundraiser next Saturday evening. Our charity helps support the families of children who have cancer.”

“That’s a wonderful cause,” I say.

“I’d be glad to put you to work,” says the woman across from me. I can’t see her place card.

Val laughs. “We wouldn’t be successful if not for Rachel and Carla twisting every arm in Las Vegas!.” laughs Val.

I smile as their conversation takes off about their fundraiser.

“Hey, it’s gift time,” Valshe says, handing me an unwrapped small box with a purple bow on the cover. I open it with care.

“Thank you, Val, I love it., I wanted a light-up phone case.”

***

Looking back, the afternoon was really nice. I was afraid they’d ask me a lot of questions, but they didn’t. We actually had fun, especially when I opened the gifts—place mats, napkins, a cook bookcookbook, even a gift card for Barneys and a set of Egyptian cotton sheets. On our way home, I asked Mom if we could go to their event., Sshe said no, but I didn’t really think she’d go.

***Everyone at work is being so nice. Margaret and Stella took me to lunch and gave me an awesome set of light blue towels, Mr. Hudson gave me a hundred dollars, Tina and Laura have been sending me funny text messages from school every day until the last one a few minutes ago. I text them: In less than an hour I’ll be Billy’s wife.

“Mom, are you ready? Father said our ceremony will only take 20 twenty minutes since there won’t be a nuptial Mmass.”

“Yes, I’m ready. You have a perfect day for your wedding.”

Her Beth’s eyes are ablaze with love and happiness. I had those feelings a lifetime ago;, he didn’t.

“Everything’s perfect. Ann’s my maid of honor, Richard’s Billy’s best man, Billy’s parents are great about usour getting married in church, and you know what, Mom? Uncle Harry is here too.”

“I think he’s here too.” How I wish you were, Harry.

Beth looks lovely in the street- length, white poly dress that looks like silk, her with the sequined cap, sparking in the sun light sneaking through a crack in the stained-glass window. Her eyes shine through the short veil falling across them.

It’s good she agreed with me to keep the ceremony simple. We didn’t know anyone to give her away, so she didn’t won’t walk down the aisle. That saved us the cost of an organist and singer. Billy’s parents are driving them to the airport for their honeymoon in San Francisco. The church is empty except for the three of us, the parents, in the first pew. The wedding party faces Father at the altar, their backs are to us.

I look at Miriam out of the corner of my eye. How she radiates self-anointed importance. When she told me at Beth’s shower that she is a member of Daughters of the American RevolutionDAR I wanted to laugh in her face., Aas if anyone today cares what boat some ancestor booked to get here. If not for Beth, I would have told her off then and there. She’s going to be one hell of a mother-in-law. My guess is that husband of hers speaks only when spoken to. I don’t like them, —or their son. The word slippery comes to mind whenever I hear his name. I hope Beth is doing the right thing, that my feeling of misgiving is wrong.

Oh, God, Richard’s handing the ring to Billy. I don’t know if I can stand what’s coming., I don’t want to hear…. it. Billy’s kissing Beth. I feel sick!. They’re facing us, smiling!. I stare at the small gold band on her finger. It’s over., Iit’s real. , Sshe’s married.

I want to run screaming out of here!. Run home, slam the door, hide. But —I can’t. I have to get through dinner. Only then can I go home to an empty house, again. But she’s a good girl., Sshe knows how I worry, how nervous I get., Sshe’ll call and visit, especially as I get older. And maybe that apartment thing will backfire and she’ll move home with me.

***

Billy carries me across the threshold into our room at Gilda’s Bed & Breakfast just like in the movies. Wwhere with love and tenderness we consummated our marriage. In the morning, I cuddle close to Billy, wanting to stay there forever.

He stirs.

“Are you awake?”

“Uh-huhAha. …Ccome here.”

By the time we roll out of the four-poster it’s late, so we’re eating lunch in our room.

Billy says, “Beth, I’m going to take you for a ride.”

“A ride? Where are we going?” I take my last bite of the tuna salad sandwich.

“It’s a surprise.”

Outside the sky is an awesome blue, the sun is bright, and a light breeze follows our every step. Heaven could not be more beautiful.

“Here you are, my lady.”

“Oh, Billy, cable cars! How did you know about this?”

“I’ve been to San Francisco before.”

We hop on and, ride along, up and down hills. Wand when we get to the end of the line the conductor and the gripman, that’s what Billy calls him, get off and turn the car around manually on a turntable.

“Is that the only way they can turn us around?”

“Yeah,” says the man next to me. “They used to let passengers help turn the cars around, but they stopped doing that in the ‘’70s., Ttoo dangerous., Ssome passenger probably got hurt.”

We hop off the car at the Powell Street station, walk down Geary Street and, stop in front of a theater.

“How do you like this, Beth?’”

“It’s beautiful, Billy.”

“It’s the famous Curran Theatre, restored to its former glory of 1922. It’s Renaissance

Revival sStyle., Alfred Henry Jacobs was the architect.”

“Look, Eclipsed is here. I’d love to go. C, could we—, oh, I see it.”

He’s pointing to the Sold-Out banner pasted across the poster.

At Fisherman’s Wharf we have abalone for dinner, then visit an Irish pub, where I taste Billy’s Irish cCoffee with Irish whiskey and whipped cream on top. “I can see why people like this!. It’s delicious.”

“That’s why it’s dangerous,” Billy jokes, making me laugh.

Later we make love and , fall sound asleep in each other’s arms. The next day we take the Alcatraz night tour, but the highlight for me was the Golden Gate Bridge at sunset. The brochure said three babies have beenwere born on the bridge, all boys. The view overlooking the waterfront atop Telegraph Hill from Coit Tower is awesome. I’ve never been so happy.

We’re on our way to a restaurant on Haeight Street for a bite to eat before we go to the jazz festival when Billy stops to look at some paintings.

“What’s this?” Billy asks the street artist, pointing to what looks to me like a dab of white paint in the corner of the mostly plain black painting.”

“You have a remarkable eye, sir!,” says the artist., “You have a gift.”

Huh? A remarkable eye?

“Let me shake your hand. You’re the only visitor who’s seens its significance. I’ll gladly

reduce the price to have you as an owner of my work.”

Yikes! The price tag is fifteen hundred!.

“Billy, don’t—….”

“H…how much do you want?” Billy asks.

“I want you to have it. Half. …It’s yours for seven hundred fifty.”

“Oh, Billy, I don’t—…”

“…I assume you’re visiting,” says the artist., “What brings you to our fair city?”

Silence.

“Well, welcome, where are you from?”

“Las Vegas,” Billy says.

“Will you be staying long?”

“No, we’re flying out tonight.”

“I’m going to take a wild guess. The way the two of you look at each other, are you on your honeymoon?”

Billy mutters.

“Congratulations! You’re such a nice young couple, starting a new life together. I want the two of you to have my work. You’d make me proud if you’d accept—I’ve never done this before, but —for five hundred dollars you will own my painting.”

“Cool!.” Billy hands him his credit card. “It’s a deal.”

He answered so fast I didn’t have time to say anything. How could he spend that much money? Does Billy have a lot of money? The painting looks like a hunk of black to me. The artist hands Billy the painting wrapped in brown paper to Billy. We walk away slowly.

“Beth, I know you don’t like this., Ttoo bad you don’t get that we have an outstanding modern work of art. The restaurant’s in the next block.”

When we get there, I open the menu, whichthat says Home of the Summer of Love in 1967. “Billy, do you know what that means?”

“Hippies, flower children, free love, drugs, music. A counterculture movement to fix the world.”

After dinner, Billy says, “I’m tapped out. Do you have any money? All I’ve got are the tickets to get us home.”

I pay for dinner with my credit card, and we hurry back to the B & B to get our suitcases. where wWe waited only a few minutes for the Uber driver to take us to the airport.

“Seems like we just got here, Billy.”

He puts his arm around me and, we kiss.

“I’m sorry to be leaving, but so happy!.”

As I stare out the car’s window we pass the street artist from earlier. when I look quickly at Billy. He’s looking out the opposite car window. He didn’t see it. The same artist just put the sameA painting identical to the one Billy bought was on the for-sale easel.

“Billy!?”

“Yeah?”

“NAh, nothing., I love you.”

***

Our wonderful week is over in what seems an instant. Instead of late mornings and late nights, I doid the laundry., Tthe janitor hung the painting on the wall above the sofa. and I’ll have just enough time this morning to fix Billy’s breakfast before I leave for work. I hope I don’t break the yokes.

“Hey, sleepy head.,” I touch his shoulder., “Your crisp bacon and two sunny- side ups are ready, just like the B & B!.”

“HAh…huh? What? Come here.…”

“N…no, Billy.,” I laugh, kissing him. “We don’t have time. I have to go to work.”

“We’ve got plenty of time. Come on.…”

“I can’t be late. What time do you have to be at work?”

“Don’t worry about it.” He turns over, his back toward me.

“All right.,” I grab my purse and train pass. “Please rinse the dishes before you put them in the dishwasher.… Ssee you later.”

When I get to the bank I had forgotten that oOur department was at the bank is scheduled for performance reviews. I was scared atthe first, time. Tbut thankfully though, Mr. Hudson iwasn’t scary at all.

“Good morning, Beth.,”

Hhe’s squinting at me through his way too thick glasses.

“Morning.” Hoping for the best, I sit in the chair opposite his desk stacked with files and computer printouts.

“Not only is your work and cooperation with coworkers excellent, but you learned, picked up on everything faster than any other new employee I’ve ever had. What I’m getting at is that tThe bank is going to open three more branches within the next six months. That means we’ll need more tellers. While it’s a bit unusual given your young age and length of experience, I’d like to recommend you for either teller training or to be my assistant. I’ve filled out most of your performance form.”

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Hudson!.” This is awesome!. A promotion!. Wait till I tell Billy!.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he says,id laughing. “Which would you prefer?”

Ugh!. Will I offend him if I say teller training?

“Would you like some time to think it over?”

“WAh, when is Mrs. Taylor retiring?” She’s been assistant manager to Mr. Hudson for years.

“First of next month.”

If I’m his assistant, I’ll be here forever. Being a teller, I’d meet people, do something different.

“You don’t have to answer now. Take a couple days to think it over.”

“I…I’d like…ah…I’d like to be a teller, Mr. Hudson.”

“That’s fine. I’ll add your name to the training schedule.”

As I go back to work, I realize when, am I a dork! I forgot to ask Mr. Hudson what my new salary will be. Doesn’t matter, I’ll get more than I’m getting now. D, darn., I left my ham on ryelunch at home on the kitchen counter. I can just make it home there and back during my break.

I rush through our entrance and open our door at the stroke of twelve and am surprised.

“Billy, you’re still here? It’s noon. What time do you have to be at work?”

He’s in a light grey seersucker suit, white shirt and silk multicolored blue tie.

“I’ve got my own schedule.” He’s in a light-gray seersucker suit, white shirt and silk, multicolored blue tie.

“Okay, I’ve got wonderful news!. I’m going to be a teller!.”

“That’s nice.”

“You don’t sound happy. I, isn’t that awesome? And I’ll be getting more money.”

“Don’t get carried away, it’s not exactly bank president. How much will you get when you’re a big shot teller?”

“I forgot to ask.”

I go back to work, confused and, disappointed that he wasn’t excited about the promotion., Also surprised atto finding him still home, although maybe I shouldn’t be. He said he had his own schedule. Everybody doesn’t work eight or nine to five.

I get home after work around six., “Billy, did Mr. Hudson ever laugh at me. He said I was the first employee who didn’t ask how much the raise would be.…”

My cell rings. It’s Miriam.

“Hello.”

“Hello, Beth, just checking in. How are you and Billy doing? I thought he’d call me when

you got back. His phone is turned off.”

Billy’s waving at me, mouthing I’m not here!.

“We’re fine. He’s not here right now. I’ll tell him you called., Tthanks for calling.” I end the call. “Why didn’t you want to talk to her?”

“I’ll call her later.”

“Okay., Aas I was saying, you’ll never guess! Tthe raise will be six thousand a year, five hundred more a month before deductions!.”

“Not bad, Mrs. Gates. How about you take me to a movie?”

“It’s a deal!.”

We seeaw Citizen Kane. Billy saysid it was voted the seventh greatest movie of all time.

The next morning I turn off my cell alarm at seven. “Hey, sleepy head. The schedule on the post card said your meeting was at nine today.” I get a grunt. “Did you set your cell or do you want me to set the alarm on my beautiful crystal alarm clock?”

“Yeah....”

“I’ll set it for eight.”

I love my clock. The beautiful crystal pieceIt was a wedding present from Ann, Tina and Laura. I shower, dress, finish my instant oatmeal, and start Billy’s breakfast.

“Billy, you better get up. I’m fixing breakfast.”

“I heard you.”

“Okay, grumpy.”

The alarm goes off just as the aroma of frying bacon fills the air. And I don’t mind saying the eggs are perfect.

“Didn’t you hear it?” I turn it off. “Your eggs over easy and crisps bacon are on the table.”

“For Christ’s sake.”

“It’s eight.”

He fluffs his pillow, rolls over., I don’t understand.

“Your breakfast will get cold.”

“Jesus Christ!”

“Why are you upset? I’ve got to go to work, see you tonight.”

Why is he upset? If he doesn’t get up, he won’t get to the meeting on time. Oh, he probably got up the minute I left.

It’s a little after six wWhen I get home from work. Billy’s not there. I’m not sure what I’m going to say to him. Should I ask how the meeting went, if he got there on time? I don’t want to make him mad. I go into the kitchen to start dinner. T, the chicken should be thawed so, I’ll pop it in the…I,— I’m numb. I can’t move. I’m a zombie. I start to cry like I’ve never cried before.

His breakfast plate is face down on the table!. Yellow streaks from the yokes have run across the table, down the leg of the tableand onto the floor. How , how could he? M…my cell rings. It’s— Miriam. I can’t talk to her. I can’t believe what I’m looking at. Why? Why would he do this? I’m a machine. I fill the sink with soap and hot water, scrub the hardened yellow streaks when my cell, Miriam. I don’t answer. I finish cleaning up and walk outside, down one street after another for I don’t know how long with tears running down my cheeks. Why would he do that?

It’s late when I go back home. Billy’s still not there. I pretend I’m asleep—on the sofa— when I hear him come in around midnight. I doidn’t want to see him.

In the morning I shower, dress, eat my instant oatmeal and leave without fixing his breakfast. We barely speak to each other.

After the fourth or fifth day of this routine I say, “We can’t go on like this, Billy. How could you do that?”

“I lost my temper.”

“That wasn’t a nice thing to do.”

“Anybody can lose their cool., Sso we had our first fight. Big deal. Let’s forget it. How about a movie? I’ve wanted to see—…”

“Not tonight, maybe tomorrow.”

He didn’t even say he was sorry. Would he do something like that again?

Later, when we went to bed, he made love., I couldn’t.

The hurt was still inside me.

Chapter 12

I haved stomach cramps so bad I leave work early. I wonder if the herring I ate for lunch wasere spoiled., Uugh, I feel terrible, can’t wait to get home. I step into the lobby and, oh my God, the odor! I’m nauseous, I’m going to vomit. I run up the stairs, make it to the bathroom just in time. I rinse my mouth with water to get rid of the after taste, go out to the living room and flop on the sofa. As I, lie there flat on my back hoping the cramps go away, soon when I recognize place that odor, —Hercules,. Billy’s heavy after shaveaftershave lotion.

But how could that smell still be in the lobby at three o’clock in the afternoon? It should have evaporated long ago, unless …unless Billy was in the lobby not too long ago. But that’s impossible, that can’t be right. He couldn’t have left for work that late in the afternoon. Of course, not, he’s not the only man who uses Hercules. But why can’t I get rid of the feeling that something’s wrong? The cramps ease and, I drift off, when my .

I’m awakened by my cell phone, sounds right on schedule.

It’s Miriam., Sshe calls every day at dinner timedinnertime. I’m so tired of her calls I stopped saying thanks for calling, but she doesn’t get the message. When I answer she’s going to say, “Hello, Beth, just checking. How are you and Billy doing?” Then I say, “We’re fine.” But we’re not.

“Hello, Miriam.”

“Hello, Beth, just checking in. HHHHow are you and Billy doing?”

“We’re fine.” But we’re not.

“That’s good. See you Sunday for dinner around five as usual, and tell Billy to turn on his phone.”

“Okay.” My strategy of saying as little as possible in hopes she’s stops calling isn’t working.

“And tell him to call me.”

“I will.”

Billy insists we go there for dinner every Sunday. He loves her fried chicken, creamed corn and chicken gravy. It is good. It’s just that I’d like to skip a Sunday once in a while. Great, here he is the minute she hangs up.

“Billy, call your mom.”

“What did she say?”

“What she always says. Please call her or she’ll take it out on me on Sunday for not telling you.” He won’t look at me. “Is something wrong?”

“She’s sore at me.”

“Why?”

“I quit my job.”

“You quit your….” My stomach coils, the cramps return. “Why? did…”

“…I hated that stupid, dead- end job. I only took it until I could find something better.”

“What are we going to do? I can’t pay the car insurance. It’s seven hundred thirty-five dollars.”

“Put it on the credit card.”

“I can’t., Aanother a hundred thirty-seven and we’re maxed out. There’s probably a casino

job you could get until you find something you really want.”

“That’s brilliant. How am I going to look for a day job if I’m working all night? Are those pearls of yours worth anything?”

“Billy! I love those pearls. Uncle Harry gave them to my mom.”

“Calm the fuck down!. They’re probably not worth much anyway.”

He’s calling someone on his cell. “Mom, we’re in a spot.”

I whisper, surprised., “You’re not asking your mother for money, are you?”

He signals me to keep quiet.

“My car insurance is due. I need the car to drive to interviews so could you help me out with a little money?”

“Oh, Billy,” she says, “I’m disappointed. I know all about ‘your ‘spot.’ The superintendent at Building and Safety told Dad he had to let you go because you were frequently late, missed morning meetings, even an appointment.”

“Face it, Mom, that’s a dead- end, pencil pushing, clip board, crap job.”

“Watch your language!. How many times do I have to tell you?”

“Mom, I’m asking for a loan, that’s not Armageddon.”

“I gave you five hundred just last week, dear.”

“Not to worry, I’ll pay you back as soon as I get another job.”

“Well, speaking of a new job, I have good news for you. Dad told me a bailiff job is going to be available and—…”

“B…bailiff?”

“Dad can’t get it for you this time, but he can put in a good word. The salary range is from thirty-eight to sixty thousand.”

“I’d be nothing but a cop with flatfeet for a future!.”

“I know, it would be temporary, till you find something suitable. But it’s all about networking. This is an opportunity. You’d certainly meet some important politicians, and who knows where new contacts might lead.?”

“It will lead to nNowheresville. I’m not going to be any cop errand boy. Oh, I know, I’ll be an order picker at Amazon or Walmart. Is that what you want? Why won’t you cut me some slack?”

“Do you have any good prospects?”

“I’ve got three interviews this week. If I can’t drive, I can’t keep the appointments, unless I drive without car insurance and if something bad happens….”

“No, don’t drive without insurance!.”

“I don’t have a choice, —do I, Mom?”

“How much is the car insurance?”

“I need fifteen hundred.”

“Fifteen hundred for car insurance?”

“A thousand would work, but to cover expenses I need fifteen hundred.”

“That’s is a lot of money!.”

“Don’t freak. How about a thousand?”

“Watch your language!.”

“Anybody can have a temporary downer., Ssorry I bothered you. I thought I could count on you.”

“You can, but not for fifteen hundred dollars. This is the last time I’m going to help you. Do you understand?”

“Sure, Mom.”

“Stop by the office around five for a thousand around five. And —don’t tell Dad.”

“See you then, and thanks.” He ends the call. “What’s your problem, Beth?”

“We shouldn’t ask your mom for money.”

“She’s cool.”

“We’ll have to save something every month to pay her back. But why didn’t you tell me you have three interviews this week? That’s awesome!. What are the jobs?”

“Oh, that?, I don’t have any interviews.”

“But you said—…”

“…I had to tell her something. I got the money, didn’t I?”

“You lied to her?.”

“Not really, I’ll find something.”

And he did!. He’s working for Phoenix Finance Company. He wanted me to comego with him tonight, so here we are in our car at two o’clock in the morning under a moonless, starless sky, squinting, trying to read house numbers in the dark.

“Billy, this is creepy. I can barely see the houses, it smells, trash is all over. What are we doing here?”

“You’ll see.”

We crawl at five miles an hour in the dark. I roll my window back up.

“The air stinks. Are you sure we’re on the right street?”

“Shush, yes., I’m trying to read house numbers.”

I get the flash light out of the glove compartment, point the beam through the car window toward the houses. when I sense I’ve been here before. Billy yanks the flash lightflashlight and turns it off!.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want anyone to see us.”

“I thought you said you worked for a finance company.”

“I do. Try to read the house numbers on your side. I’m looking for 813.”

“Okay…I just saw 752.”

“Should be the next block,” he whispers., Hhe turns off the headlights.

“What street are we on?”

“Palm Drive.”

Palm Drive., Tthat’s why this looks familiar. It’s where Leland lived, maybeor still lives., Wwhere Mom wouldn’t let me go to his birthday parties.

“This is a bad area, Billy. What are we doing here?”

“See that Cadillac XTS parked in the driveway next to that house?”

“Yes,” I whisper., “Why are we whispering? I don’t like this. What are you going to do?”

“Shush, be quiet!.”

He parks, turns the lights off, and takes a car key out of his jacket pocket.

“When I get out you get behind the wheel and keep the motor running. I’m going to back that Caddy out of the driveway. When I get on the street you follow me, and keep up as fast as you can.”

“What? You’re going steal that car?”

“No, I’m repossessing it. The guy defaulted on his car payments…be the hell quiet!.”

“This is your job? You are—….”

“Be quiet for Christ’s sake. I can’t drive two cars at the same time, can I? Are you ready?” He gets out of our car. “Don’t make any noise. Don’t close the car door until you’re ready to drive away.”

I slip behind the steering wheel, shaking, watching him walk away. He’s looking around, making sure no one’s on the street. What if someone catches him? He’s in the driveway next to that car. He’s in the car. Oh, wWhat if when he starts the engine the noise wakes whoever’s in the house? What if a person comes running out, —with a gun? Oh, no! Lights went on in the house!. Billy’s backsing the car out of the driveway! He turned on the car lights, he’s turnsing onto the street!. I slam the car door and, pull out behind him, driving fast to keep up with him.

I never, ever want to do this again.

I’ll never forget that night. When we got home, I told Billy how scared I was. I told him I didon’t want to do that again. He shrugged and walked away. TBut the next Sunday I overheard his parents, even Clarence who hardly ever says a word, giving him grief about Phoenix. He quit thaton Monday. That was two months ago., Hhe hasn’t worked since.

“Billy, please don’t ask your mom for money again. Why don’t you take the casino job, or the lLeasing cConsultant job the Mountain Employment Agency suggested?”

“They’re nNowwheresville crap.”

“Well, could you stop charging expensive lunches at Henri’s? I can’t pay the minimum on our credit card anymore.”

“You just don’t get it, do you.you? It’s all about networking., Iit’s important that I’m seen in places like Henri’s, where the money clientele is, where I can make good contacts. The only picture you ever see is wallet size, never the big one. Something will turn up.”

He was right. Something did turn up. Not in Henri’s, but in Walmart’s parking lot. He

accidentally metran into Jose Alvarez, a former classmate from State, who suggested he meet his dad, who worksed for the William Graham Insurance Company. When he met with Mr. Alvarez, Sr., he said he’d hire and train and hire Billy to sell life insurance. Things are looking up., Mmy teller training is almost over, I’m earning more money, and Billy’s busy complying with the legal requirement to sell insurance.

He first had to give the FBI and the state of Nevada his fingerprints for a background check. Then he had to pass a test to get a license, so he took a pre-licensing course, that’s what he called it. ,A and after he passed that he got his license and attended a ten-day training session with other new agents, all in addition to Mr. Alvarez’s one-on-one training.

He has a small salary now for the first two months. After that, he’ll get 90% commission of the first-year premium and from each whole life insurance policy he sells, and 5% of future renewals as long as the premium is paid. Billy said all he has to sell is two policies a week and he’d make from fifty to a hundred thousand his first year. What’s even better, he likes the job, feels positive about the future.

One thing bothers me though., except…

“Billy, please don’t put my mom on your prospect list. She won’t buy any insurance and she’ll get so mad at me.”

“Okay, I’m not going to try to sell a policy to her, or any relative, right away. The first step is just to let friends and familyies know I’m in the business. I’m going to send an announcement to everyone on social media, then follow up with them later.”

“That’s great, but delete my mom.”

“You got it. I’ll be getting some leads from the agency. Will you practice a script with me? You’re Mr. and Mrs. Smith.”

“Yeah!,” I say, laughing, lowering my voice.

“Why are you talking like that?” he asks, but he’s laughing.

“I’m getting in character for Mr. Smith,” I say in my low voice.

“Oh, all right. You’re Mr. Smith and you have three kids. I’m going to skip the part about your nice home, the pictures of your kids and a golf trophy on the mantle.

“Good evening, thank you for seeing me. You have a good friend in Marshall Washington, who referred me to you. Perhaps you know”—Billy pretends to take a something out of his suit coat pocket—“other policy holders in your area. We have their permission to use their names.”

I pretend to read the list of names. “No, I don’t think so.…,” I speak low, pretending to read the list of names.

“How about you, Mrs. Smith?”

“A few names are familiar,” I say in my natural voice.

“May I ask if you are a stay-at-home mMom, or do you work outside the home?”

“I’m a legal assistant atto Harvey & Harvey Law.”

“Today’s economy demands two wage earners to have a decent standard of living, doesn’t it? That’s why the policyholders on the list realized they needed to know how much coverage one should have if the major wage earner wais not in the picture. They wanted to be sure that the remaining loved ones could lead a decedent life and send the kids to college.”

I read Mr. Smith’s reply., “Ah…Marshall’s a good friend, but I have insurance. Wwe don’t need any more. I have insurance.”

“Let me congratulate you!. Do you have any idea how few husbands and fathers are as farsighted and responsible as you? Tell me, will your coverage cover your basic expenses?”

“Sure, I have plenty. Marshall meant well,” I read.

“You’re probably right. What does plenty mean?”

“A hundred thousand is a lot of coverage, pal.”

“Mr. Smith, I can see how much you love your family. But I must tell you. T, that isn’t anywhere near sufficient if something should happen to you today, to say nothing about the mega economy of tomorrow. Is your home paid for?, Hhow much are your mortgage payments?”

“Fifteen hundred.”

“That’s a bite. Do you want to leave your wife frightened, facing overwhelming expenses, including those mortgage payments, car payments, insurance, food, clothing and no money to educate your three children? Both of you have good jobs today., Uunfortunately, that doesn’t guarantee job security or prevent illness, accident or untimely death tomorrow. After taking a closer look, how far do you really think a hundred thousand will go?”

“I guess not as far as I thought.,” I say in my low voice.

“You know, Mr. Smith, I have to tell you, it’s a pleasure, seeing how dedicated you and your wife are to each other and to your children. You’d be surprised how reasonably priced adequate coverage costs to protect your family for tomorrow’s economy, to live a decent life in this fast-paced, competitive world, should that become necessary.”

“Honey,” I say in my natural voice,. “a hundred thousand really wouldn’t go very far.”

“You’re right, Mrs. Smith,” Billy says.. “At your age, Mr. Smith, you can leave your wife and your children $1one million whole life coverage for chump change—, only six hundred ninety dollars a year.”

“That doesn’t sound too expensive, honey.”

Billy laughs. “Mrs. Smith, it’s the best deal in town.,” Billy laughs.

“I guess we can swing that.”

Billy hands me the script, pretending it’s a contract.

“Sign right here, Mr. Smith, and put all your worries behind you, knowing you and your family are is coveredsafe.”

“Billy, you should hand me a pen,.” I say, out of character.

“Good suggestion, Mrs. Smith. I’ll remember that!,” hHe says, kissing me. “Now, whether I get a sale or not, I’m supposed to try and get a referral., Eevery person has a sphere of influence.”

“What’s that?”

“Friends, family, coworkers, golf partner.”

“Oh, Billy!, y You’re going to be a wonderful salesman.”

***

He was able to sellsold a small policiesy to his parents, his Aunt Agatha, and someone he met at a public speaking seminar. While he was collecting a salary, plus with the more additional money I’m now earning, we caught up a little on our credit card bill. Unfortunately, he’s been on commission now for two months, with only one sale to the guy upstairs. Billy says the agency isn’t giving him enough leads, and that Mr. Alvarez told him he had to get more referrals himself, try to sell either more policies or those with higher premiums.

He’s out late every night. Sometimes, he says the people aren’t home when he gets there. He didn’t answer me when I asked him if he had made an appointment, so I guess he did. He’s trying so hard. No matter what time he gets home he stays up late reading and studying like crazy. He bought Prospecting by Larry Giltwalter, who is some successful insurance salesman.

“Billy, it isn’t fair. , you’re out every night. I’ve given the brochure to everyone at the bank. How can Mr. Alvarez expect you to earn enough commissions to live on when you’re still learning the business and getting so few leads? The salaried time should be longer.”

“He said I was lucky to get two months.”

“What are we going to do? Did you post everything on social media?”

“I didn’t get one response.”

“That was a month ago. Did you resend?”

“No.”

“I know you contacted your family, but don’t you think it’s time to contact your friends?”

“I’m way ahead of you. And tThere’s no point in contacting yours., Tthey’re in school and don’t have any money, except big shot Richard, who wouldn’t even to talk to me.”

“How about your friends from Roosevelt, Philmore, State?”

“I haven’t kept in touch.”

His briefcase is open. I pick up a sheet of paper with names, addresses, phone and email contact info. “Is this a prospect list?”

“Yeah.”

“Two names are checked off. Did you call those people?”

“Yeah.”

“There are eight names unchecked,” I say, counting. “Are you going to contact them? Ten prospects sound pretty good to me.”

“Will you give it a rest.rest? I couldn’t get through to anyone on the damn list. Throw it away, it’s last week’s.”

“IOkay, if you don’t have an appointment tonight, why don’t we relax, stop worrying about bills, maybe go to a movie. We hardly see each other anymore.”

“Good idea., It Happened One Night is playing. We can make the early show. My I do have an appointment, but it’s not until eight.”

The romantic comedy from 1934 was a great choice. We laughed, ateat popcorn, awere happy. Billy taookes me home in plenty of time to make his appointment. I’m waiting up for him tonight. I hope the people buy a policy. I’d love to hear about what happens during an appointment, or at meetings in the agency, but he won’t tell me. He says work should stay at work, so I don’t ask anymore. It’s getting late. A and waiting up isn’t workingI have work tomorrow. I set my beautiful crystal alarm clock for 7:00 a.m. and go to bed.

The next thing I remember it’sknow the alarm is ringing. I feel like I just got here. I must have fallen asleep the second my head hit the pillow. I’m about to turn if off when Billy grabs the clock and turns it off.

“Good morning. You were so late last night you must have sold a million-dollar policy.”

I give him a quick kiss and get up. He rolls over, his back to me.

“Hey, sleepy head, you have that meeting.”

He mumbles something.

“When I leave, I’ll set the alarm for eight.”

***

Things still aren’t going well. But like Billy says, it’ll take time, he’s new to the business. And I’m excited. We’re at our first Annual Graham Recognition Dinner in the Lombard Conference Center. People are here from all over the country. We’re in a crowd of people standing in front of a long table outside Conference Room A, where name tags with table numbers are spread outlay in alphabetical order.

“We’re at table thirty-two32.” Billy hands me my name tagnametag encased in plastic with a safety pin.

Inside the conference room at the far end, a soft white spot light illuminates a forest of white palms trees etched into the a mirror across the entire wall behind the head table and a speakers’ podium. And wow, a huge sign reads: WELCOME: GRAHAM’S SALESPEOPLE and SALESPERSON OF THE YEAR.

I hope I look all right in my cobalt blue and Mom’s pearls. Everyone is well-dressedwell dressed. There are hundreds of people here. Some are at their tables already, others talking in small groups., Aa lot mill around the bar.

Billy pulls the chair out for me., “We’re the first at our table. J, just stay here,. I have to mingle.”

“Okay.” I don’t like to mingle.

The round table seats eight., Eeach place setting has a tall wine glass. I run my hand across the white table clothtablecloth, my eyes fixed on the centerpiece. It’s a silver bowl with purple orchids floating in the water. My eyes are misting, fixed on the orchids, remembering a dinner long ago.

I hear, Hi, cute stuff.

I say, Oh, Uncle Harry, I’m having a fancy dinner.

I pick up the evening’s program, whichthat carries a letter from the president, Mr. Graham, a short history of how his grandfather founded the company, and a list of the top salesmen., Billy’s name will be there one day. I look up. He’s across the room at the bar talking to some guys. Rather, oops, four guys and one woman. They’re leaving. He’sThe group breaks up and Billy walksing toward me, with his martini in hand. when,

A man sits down next to me. “Hi, I’m Joe. I just joined the agency yesterdaylast week.” The man sits next to me.

“Oh, nice to meet you.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Not a problem.”

He’s taller and older than Billy and, has bushy, way too busy hair.

“Joe, this is my husband, Billy.” The words awere barely out of my mouth when the room bursts into applause. “Who’s that?”

“Mr. Graham.”

He waves to people on his way to the speaker’s podium. Our table is so far away all I can see is his white hair. He raisesd his arm and; the room falls silent.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I stand here to give you my standing ovation and commend you for your outstanding work of serving the needs of others. It’s my pleasure to present Mr. Tom Reynolds, Salesman of the Year.” Mr. Graham is laughing and waving an envelope. “Plaques you hang on walls, checks you take to the bank!” He hands Mr. Reynolds the envelope and, everyone stands, clapping.

“Billy, this is exciting. Do you know him?”

“No, he’s been top salesman for years.,” Hhe says turnsing to Joe. “Beth tells me you just started with the agency. Have you sold insurance before?”

“Yes, I was with the company in Los Angeles.”

Waiters invade the room with carafes of red and white wine.

“Your wife tells me you’re new to the industry. How’s it going?”

“Great!.”

“You’re a better man than I. The first year I was on commission it was rough but my wife hung in there.”

“Couldn’t she come tonight?” I ask. It would be nice if I had another insurance wife to talk to.

“She and the kids will join me when school’s out. We sold our home in Los Angeles and , she’s tying up loose ends.”

“I read where the real estate market is the lowest in history,” Billy addsays.

“It took us six months but we did okay.”

“You were lucky, prices are predicted to go even lower.”

“Maybe not, Billy,” I join in. “I just read an article in the New York Times that says current trend—…”

“…Joe, never mind Beth. She doesn’t know anything about finance or real estate. Do you think the market’s going to collapse?”

I wish he wouldn’t say things like that.

“No, I think the market’s looking up. I read the same article, Beth did. T, time I call it a night.”

“Nice meeting you, Joe,” I say.

That’s odd,odd; he walks away without shaking Billy’s outstretched hand. As we leave I look back into the room. Joe’s talking to the Salesman of the Year.

“Billy, this was interesting, a very nice event.”

“The food was good.”

“I’ve been waiting to tell you. You’re gone almost every night so I enrolled at Harrington College. It won’t cost us anything. The bank offers the program free if I keep a B average. Is that okay with you?”

“Harrington? Go ahead.” He said, shakesing his head like I said something funny.

***

“You’re late.” Miriam looks at her Apple Watch.

“Sorry, Mom, couldn’t get away from Beth.”

“You said you need money for some seminar. I thought things would be better now that you’re in the insurance business. I told you I would not help you again.”

“Yeah, but this isn’t just any seminar. It’s Dollar Dynamic, the best insurance sales seminar in the country. I’ve got to go, Mom. Like Beth says, I’m still learning the business.”

“Aren’t you making enough money to pay for the seminar yourself?”

“Come on, Mom, you know I’m on commission. I have expenses, and it takes time to build up commissions. You know that from the real estate business.”

“Yes, I suppose I do.” He has everything it takes to be a leading salesman, yet he still isn’t thriving. …. “I gave you a list of all our friends. Have you contacted them?”

“Sure, they all got my email. I called Uncle Dwight but no luck there. With all his money the least he could do was buy a policy., Sso much for family support.”

“I don’t know why he didn’t help you.”

“There’s another reason why this seminar is important. I’m leaving the Graham.”

“You’re what? Why? The Graham Insurance Company has a good reputation. Are you getting to work on time?”

“I sell at night!”

“Do not shout at me. You can set up a lot of appointments during the day, especially if you call in the morning after nine. Why are you leaving Graham?”

“It’s old school, too small, not A rated, and is doing practically nothing on the Internet. I’ll never make any money there, the leads are crap.”

“Oh, your language!. I hope you don’t use that language with prospects.”

“You’re right, sorry.”

“Have you given Graham enough time? If you leave, what are you going to do?”

“It’s not if. I met this guy Bart. He told me the company he works for was hiring. Fast forward to the Fitzgerald Insurance Company. —Iit’s international, and I’m already set up there. This is a great opportunity, but I’ve got to go to this seminar, learn the ins and outs of the business. All Fitzgerald salespeople have gone.”

“That name does ring a bell. How much does this seminar cost?”

“I knew you’d understand. It’s a bargain, thirty-five hundred.”

“Thirty-five hundred for a sales seminar is no bargain!”

“Don’t freak!. You know you have to pay if you want the best. We’re both in the selling business. You know how valuable a sales seminar can be. I’ve got a lot to learn. The next seminar will be in New York City. My only opportunity is here and now in Vegas!.”

“No., Tthirty-five hundred is too much. I can’t keep giving you money. I told you I wouldn’t help you the last time you asked.”

“I know, but you don’t want me to miss this once- in -a- lifetime opportunity, do you? I could probably manage on twenty-five hundred, but I need the thousand to tide me over till those commissions start rolling in. To network within the circle of affluent people I have to look good, take them to lunch or dinner in five-star restaurants. This is the best seminar in the country, cCome on, Mom, you know it takes money to make money.”

“Oh….” He’s so eager, excited, like my beautiful little boy. “If I help you this time, it is the last time, Billy. I don’t know how I’ll explain thirty-five hundred to your father.”

“He understands an investment.”

“He won’t understand this one. If I help you this must be our secret, and that includes Beth.”

“Not a problem. She never knows how much money I make. I’ve got to have money in my pocket.”

“All right, Billy, but this is the last time.”

“Sure, Mom.,” I hug her.

***

“Beth, can you believe this?”

“No, I can’t!”

None of us could believe it. BThe bank examiners left were all over the bank last month, and yesterday the police came into the bank and arrested Mr. Hudson for embezzlement. Everyone likes him. I feel so bad for him and his wife. Down deep, I wish he’d gotten away with it. That sure explains why he never cared if the girls paid back the lunch money they borrowed.

But I haved a worry of my own. Rent.

The six months Billy’s parents paid in advance will be up in anext month. We’ll never be able to pay nine hundred dollars rent. Mom doesn’t know that. If she did, she’d want us to move home, but I don’t to, and I don’t want to fight. So, when I found another place, not in the best part of town, we moved into a furnished apartment for six -hundred thirty-five a month. Mom was angry and so was Miriam. I think she was angry because Billy did something without asking her first. And we did waste some of her rent money, but I was afraid if we waited till the last minute we might not find anything.

Our new lobby is small and empty, no sofa, chairs or paintings on the wall like the other one. Our apartment’s small, three rooms. The kitchen’s like a big shoe box. There’s a chrome table and two chairs at one end, the stove, fridge, and cupboards with pots and pans and bright orange stoneware dishes that are sort of ugly, are at the other end, with a little counter space. The building manager said everyone on the second floor has orange dishes. An archway from the kitchen leads to the living room. The picture Billy bought hangs next to a mirror on the wall behind a brown sofa with two matching chairs. There’s an end table, TV, and Billy really likes the desk. Our nine by nine-foot bedroom only has one closet. Billy’s clothes fill it, so I bought a wardrobe rack for mine.

It was good news when Billy told me he was going with the Fitzgerald Insurance Company with a small salary for two months. He’s not selling whole life anymore. He’s selling FE insurance. That’s Final Expense Insurance to older people, especially baby boomers. He says they are a better market. He reads everything on the Internet about how to get leads, how to get appointments, how a prospect buys him first as a person then insurance, how to get referrals from people who don’t buy and get referrals off his list of policy holders. I’ve never seen his list, but he must have one.

He’s buys all kinds of books. If he’s home at night, he reads about how to be a good speaker, how to develop a positive attitude, how to write proposals. He told me he got a scholarship to an expensive sales seminar, Dynamic Dollar. It seems like a seminar or conference is happening all the time that he says he must attend, so he charges them to a new credit card he took out, which soon will be maxed out. It was nice, that he remembered and bought me a birthday present, but we’re so broke. Aand the Bassike jacket wais expensive.

He keeps talking about how the commissions will be rolling in. I want to believe him, encourage him, be on his side, while all the timebut I don’t’m not understanding why he is making so little money. Something’s wrong. Fitzgerald, so far, looks like a replay of Graham. By now he must know the insurance business better than anyone else on the planet.

Anyway, I like being a teller, and the History and Writing courses at Harrington are offered year-round, making scheduling a breeze. Now that we’ve moved, it takes me a little longer to get to work so I’m up and gone earlier. Nuts! I forgot my history paper at home. It will be tight, but at noon sharp I close my teller window, eat my ham on rye on the train, and rush through the front door to the bedroom, where I left it on the dresser.

where, “Billy, you’re still in bed?. Are you sick? ”

“Ah…”

“Should I call a doctor?”

“No.…” He turns over.

“It’s noon., Iif you’re not sick…” I pick up the clock. “The button alarm is turned off. I set the alarm for you like always in case you don’t hear your cell. Didn’t it go off? I hope it’s not broken.,” I reset the alarm for a couple minutes to test it. The alarm rings loud and clear.

“Turn that damn thing off!”

He probably didn’t sell a policy last night and is irritable.

“You don’t have to yell. The clock’s working fine. Why aren’t you up?”

“Go away!. Go back to work and leave me alone!.” He pulls the blue blanket up over his bare shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

He pulls the blanket over his head.

“Don’t you have leads at the

office?” I touch his shoulder.,

Hhe leaps up, yelling, “Leave me alone! ” I jump back yelling, “I’m a night person!. I’ve told you a million God damn times I set my own schedule!.” He curls back under the covers.

“You scared me!” I run out of the bedroom. He shouldn’t yell at me like that. But he shouldn’t be in bed either. SurelyHe can’t, it can’t be that he sleeps late every morning. That’s not possible. But what if he does? He’s been in bed late before. If he’s not getting up, not going to the office, he’s missing sales meetings. Aand what else?

I have to know.

Chapter 13

Before I left for work this morning I set the alarm as usual for eight. I’m going to call him in a minute. I figure if he doesn’t answer, that means he’s up and out and probably can’t answer because he’s with client or in a meeting. His cell is ringing, ringing, ringing. Oh, that’s good. He’s gone. I was’m concerned about nothing., Yyesterday was just a bad day. He probably can’t answer now if he’s with client or in a meet…

“Yeah?” He sounds groggy.

“Billy?” He sounds groggy. He can’t be in…? “Good morning., Tthought I’d give you a wake-up call., Iit’s nine, s. Shouldn’t you be off to work by… —hello? …Billy? Billy?” He hung up on me. Was he in bed?

I muddle through the rest of the day in a fog. I call him a few more times but get voice mail, no reply to a text. I get home after work confused or scared, not sure which. He’ not home, no surprise there. We’ve got to talk, something’s wrong. I wait up until eleven o’clock happens, give up, and go to bed. I don’t know what time he crawled in bed.

In the morning I set the alarm, —again. At nine I call him from the bank, —again, only to find his cell turned off. I don’t bother texting. Why doesn’t he get up? Or can’t he get up? Does he need a doctor? On my way home, I ask Google and read several articles about sleep and sleep patterns. My cell rings just as I open our door. Caller ID says Adam Collection Agency. I don’t answer., Tthey called three times yesterday. No matter how late it is tonight, I’m going to wait up for him. We’ve got to talk.

I go into the kitchen to warm up the stew. when I can’t moveOh no!. I drop the pot, a hammer. How could he?, Wwhy? My beautiful crystal clock islay smashed to pieces on the kitchen table, smashed to pieces. My cell rings, Miriam, right on schedule. I won’t answer. Won’t she ever stop calling? I’m a

puppet. I put the hammer back in the kitchen drawer, take a cloth napkin so I don’t cut myself and gather the sparkling pieces, put them in the recycle bin. I can’t cry.,

I don’t wait up.

He acts like nothing happened. I haven’t talked to him for four days.

Tbut today is Sunday—Miriam.

“Hurry up, Beth, and can the silent treatment. I don’t want to be late.”

“You? You don’t want to be late?”

“Don’t get smart. Let’s go!.”

“How could you!? How could you destroy my clock? You know how much I loved it. That was a mean, nasty thing to do. You know Ann, Tina and Laura gave it to me. How could you?.”

“Because you won’t leave me alone!. For Christ’s sake, let’s go.!”

“I was trying to help you wake you up in the morning so you’d go to work.”

“You can’t think outside the box, can you?. I’m a night person. Get that through your thick head.”

“Your sleep patterning doesn’t make any sense. On our honeymoon we were up and out early, on our way to enjoy the day, every day. Don’t be mad at me, but I read some articles on line about sleep by Dr. Gary Cantor. He’s Head of the Sleep Institute at the Fargo Clinic. He said that some people suffer from hypersomnia, oversleeping; like the opposite of insomnia. He says it’s a medical phenomenon. You couldan see a doctor since, you’re covered by my healthcare insurance at the bank.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me!. I thought at least you’d know the Internet is full of quacks!. Christ, how many times do I have to tell you?, Eeverybody doesn’t work nine to five. And as far as your Internet doctor is concerned, myour doctor, and the two other referrals, told Mom I don’t have hypersomnia. Sso get off, and stay off, my back!. Let’s go.”

When we get there, I help Miriam serve her usual Sunday meal in the dining room. Her table is always pretty, always the same, —a white linen tablecloth, napkins, sterling silverware around Wedgewood China place settings. The centerpiece today is her low silver bowl filled with multi-colored pansies.

“Beth, aren’t you feeling well? You look a little peaked,” she says.

“I’m fine.”

Billy eats, or maybe gobbles is the better word. “Delicious as usual, Mom!.”

Billy eats, or maybe gobbles is the better word. I have no appetite.

“So, Mom, did you sell a house this week?”

“Indeed, she did,” Clarence says from the head of the table., “Tthree and half million.”

“Wow!, c Congratulations. You’ll go to the bank with that commission!.”

“Yes, Miriam, congratulations.”

“It is my largest sale. It has….”

I fade out, only half listen as they eat and talk about the house, how the wealthy purchaser also bought a Picasso painting from the seller that was in the mansion. I’m totally preoccupied. Billy’s right, everybody doesn’t have to work nine to five., Hhe has to call on some prospects at night, so hims being a night person should be okay., Sso why isn’t it?

A His future with Fitzgerald is fading fast. He took out a new credit card in spite of usour not being able to pay our bills, and hais chargeding expensive lunches and two dinners at Mantovani’s, a cCashmere sweater, and a four-hundred-dollar pair of shoes.

It’s like I don’t understand what’s going on, like I don’t know where I am. One thing’s for sure, I’m not in a good situation. I don’t like saying that. B, but I can’t pretend anymore. The truth is, I’m not in a good marriage. But all married couples must have problems, make compromises. Ffor better or worse, till death do us part. Only Billy can change Billy. I can’t do anything about his sleeping, or how he spends money, or help him sell insurance policies. I love him, so. I must accept him as is and hope for the best. I’ll make sure I don’t get pregnant. That would make things even worse right now. Maybe someday we could have a baby, a family.

“DBeth, do you want dessert? Beth, did you hear me?”

“Oh, sorry, Miriam, no thanks.”

“Dinner was great, Mom.”

I help clear the table, Miriam loads the dishwasher, they play Shanghai, I read the paper, and another Sunday is finally over and we’re home.

Billy picks up his book Success through a Positive Mental Attitude by Napoleon Hill and W. Clement Stone. I pick up mine for class, Go Tell It on the Mountain by James Baldwin, but I can’t concentrate so I go to bed., Aalone.

***

When the professor said to the class, “I’m going to read this paper so you know what an A paper looks like,” I thought I’d die!. Just die! It was mine! All I did was study. Is that all it takes?

“Billy!, I got an A in History and Writing!. The history instructor even read my paper to the class. Isn’t that awesome?”

“It’s Harrington.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. Their credits are even accepted at Philmore.” Why isn’t he proud? , I wanted him to be proud of me, especially since the grade came to me as a big surprise to me. “Next semester I think I’ll take—…”

“…Yeah, yeah., Mmy parents are taking us to dinner at Mantovani’s to celebrate our first anniversary.”

“That’s nice of them. We haven’t been there for a long time.”

He kisses me. He’s holding a large white dress box. I see the name Nordstrom.

“You thought I didn’t remember.”

“I wasn’t sure...”

“…Are you crying?”

“No.”

He wipes away the few tears from under my eyes.

I take the cover off the box., “Oh!” It’s a pale- yellow dress suit., Tthe label says silk, dress suit. “It’s beautiful, Billy. Thank you.”

He hugs me. He knows how strapped we are for money, yet he buys an expensive present anyway. Oh! Oh, wWon’t I ever stop thinking like this!? I kiss him. “I’ll try it on.” If it doesn’t fit I can take it back for a refund without hurting his feelings. I weare it ato Mantovani’s.

“Beth, you look lovely,” Miriam says.

“Thanks., Aa present from your son.”

“He has excellent taste.”

I’ve been asking God to help Billy at Fitzgerald’s, telling Him how hard Billyhe’ s trying, how he’s out every night. H, how, when he comes home late, at night he stays up reading, studying. But God allowed a cruel thing to happen anyway.

The Fitzgerald Insurance Company ran a sales contest. The salesperson with the least number of sales gets the goat—literally. Their idea of humor is gross., Aa live goat arrived at our apartment., Wwe had to pay for its upkeep at an animal shelter, pay for its shipment back to some farm., Aand now, here we are, at Fitzgerald’s regional dinner in the same room as Graham’s surrounded by hundreds of people.

Our assigned table is barely in the door. If it were moved back another inch we’d be in the hall. It seems the more successful you are, the closer you are seated to the head table. I sit alone at our table watching Billy mingle, smiling, talking and, shaking hands, like he’s on top of the world, without a care. I don’t know how he does that, or understand what he can accomplish by mingling with other salesmen since they aren’t a source of leads. Although, maybe, the man he’s talking to is more experienced, is giving him some tips. The woman with thehim is attractive. Her long auburn hair hangs straight around her face. I bet her silk white dress cost more than my yellow seven-hundred fifty-dollar dress suit.

Billy’s on the move. I glance back at the evening’s program, sip a little ice tea, look up, Hhe’s talking to a group at the bar. I go back tolook over the program, which says the main speaker will be up soon. Ah, there’s Billy with a small group, he’s leaving, walking toward me. Ugh! He stops. He’sNow Billy’s talking to another group sitting at a table. when here comes tThe woman with auburn hair joins them. Is she following him? She’s older than Billy. I don’t like her standing so close to him, or the way she’s smiling at him, or the gnawing in my stomach. Am I jealous? Is there anything to be jealous about?

I wait until we’re home before I asksay, “Who was the woman you were talking to?”

“What woman?” He picks up the a book, How to Win.

“The redhead in the white silk dress.”

He’s opensing the book, reading. Oor pretending?

“Who is she, Billy?”

“Karl’s wife, you don’t know them.” He turns on the floor lamp.

“What’s her name?” He’s reading. “What’s her name, Billy?.” I’m very uncomfortable.

“Gladys.”

“Does she sell insurance?” The gnawing is growing.

“No, her husband does. What’s with all the questions?”

“Did they get a goat?”

“No, go to bed. I want to read.”

I wish he wouldn’t talk to me like that. “Is something wrong, Billy?” I can’t stop the gnawing!. I’m scared. “Is something wrong, Billy?” I’m shaking inside. I must be wrong! He wouldn’t…

He turns a page in the book.

I’m shaking inside. I must be wrong. He wouldn’t.

“Billy, are you seeing that woman?” My heart is pounding like I’m running a marathon. “Are you?”

“Yes.…well...”

“…Yes? Just like that? Yes?”

Instant pain comes from somewhere. He’s seeing her? H, how could he with all our problems?. I run into the bedroom and, he’s followsbehind me. I grab his suitcase out of the closet, throw it open on the bed, yank open the dresser drawer and start, throwingugh in his socks, underwear.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“You get out of here.” I’m crying. I throw in some shirts. “Get the rest of your clothes tomorrow when I’m at work.”

“Beth, don’t.”

“How could you? How could you!?”

“Beth, I’m sorry.”

“Get away from me. I don’t want you to touch me.”

“She was just a piece of ass. I’m not seeing her anymore, I swear.”

“Oh, Billy.,” I’m crying like an idiot. I throw ties in the suitcase.

He grabs my arm.

“I promise, Beth, I’ll never see her again. Don’t cry, please don’t cry.”

I don’t want him to touch me. He touched her where he touches me!. I don’t want him to touch me.

“Come here.”

He holds me in his arms, warm and strong.

WHow could, why did he do this? Why?

He’s kissesing me, leads me to the bed. Hhe’s making love.,

I’m not.

Who is he making love to? M, me or her?

Our bond is slit. My love for him is bleeding.

I wade through days and night like a ghost, not sure where or what is going on. When I ask myself if our bond will ever be the same, I know it won’t. How could he hurt me like that? In spite of our troubles, knowing we had each other held us together against all odds. The truth is, if he loved me he would have treasured and, protected our bondus at all costs. Instead, he betrayed meus.

I hear myself telling the lie I forgive you, only to hear anthe other lie repeating in my mind—tTime heals all wounds. Time is nothing but a slow- acting drug that only suspends pain., Iit does not heal a thing. That pain will live forever in my memory, while he acts like nothing happened, and I keep asking myself if there is a place where we can find us again.

I was down, really down, for weeks, so when Billy came home with great news it couldn’t have been better timed. His sales qualified us for Fitzerald’s an all-expenses- paid weekend at Tthe Ritz-Carlton Resort & Spa on the California side of Lake Tahoe.

It was wonderful. The people were friendly and fun., Wwe had a kKing rRoom with an awesome view of the mountain., Sstress melted away at the spa, whereile I had manicure, pedicure, a message, soaked in some kind of special water, and got wrapped in hot towels., Aand best of all, I was feeling better about Billy and me in spite of the lingering hurt. We laughed, held hands, took walks and made love. Even the insurance sales stories during dinners were fun, as each story got better than the last one, like fish stories.

That was a couple of months ago, so I’m was surprised when Billy coames home all excited and saysid, “Have I got news for you!. I didn’t want to tell you until it was a done deal. I quit Fitzgerald and—…”

“…You quit Fitzgerald? But you said you were working to increase your sales. so…”

“…Fitzgerald’s history. I am now with the Wallenford Insurance Company based in Texas. Not only that, I will have my own agency!.” He’s beaming.

“Your own…did you say agency?” Did he really say that? With the exception of one good sales month with Fitzgerald’s, his sales record isn’t, hasn’t been good.

“Yes, agency!. I met this guy Norman Anderson who is a recruiter for Wallenford a few weeks ago at the seminar who is a recruiter for Wallenford. He said Wallenford’s expansion plan includes opening two agencies in our area. He’s going to hire, with a salesman to head each one.”

“And he hired you?”

“Yes! That’s what I’m telling you!. Aren’t you excited? Get with the program!.”

“And you’re going to have your own agency?”

“What’s the matter with you? Don’t you know what an agency is? You ought to know that much by now.”

“I know what an agency is, Billy.” Why would anyone hire someone who has a poor sales record to head an agency who has a poor sales record? I’m not going to say that though. I don’t want to make him feel bad or discourage him.

“Christ, I thought I’d at least get a smile. Don’t overdo your excitement.,” he sneers.

“I’m sorry,” I say, smiling, knowing it’s weak. “That’s wonderful, Billy. It’s just such a big surprise.”

“My office is in your old neighborhood, on Monet Street, just north of Walmart’s in the Garfield Building. I move in Monday.”

“WYou’re…how…who’s going to pay for thean office?”

“Beth, The Wallenford Wallingford Insurance Company is paying for the office, a secretary, and all expenses, including a small salary for three months. Then I’ll get a commission on everything I sell and on what my salespeople sell.”

“The company is paying all expenses?” This Mr. Anderson, or the company,

must have done a background check. No company would invest all this money unless they thought Billy would be successful. so how? Was Billy’s one victory good month at Fitzgerald good enough for this Mr. Anderson? —Oor does Billy sell more policies and make more money than I know? Even if he did, it couldn’t be much more money since he failed at Graham and was failing at Fitzgerald.

“How are you going to get salespeople?”

“I’ll recruit at conferences, seminars, workshops, restaurants—a, anywhere. Bbut only college educated, experienced salespeople with connections.”

“Will you have to provide them with leads?”

“Sure, some, but anyone I take on will have a prospect list and their own sphere of influence. You don’t know what that means.”

He’s talking to me like that again.

“I do know what that means, Billy. When you go on commission will you have to pay all the office expenses? That will be a lot of money.”

“I wish for once you’d get the big picture., I recruit salespeople, they do the selling, I get commissions on what they sell and go to the bank!.” He talks like this is going to be easy.

“You make it sound simple.”

His blue eyes sparkle like a little boy on the first day of school with no past, only an exciting future, like the little kids in the audience a century ago. How handsome he is, immaculate in his blue seersucker suit, white shirt and tie, Hercules cologne. —Nnew shoes.

“Beth? Aren’t you excited? This is great!.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“Now you’ve got it. Like Edison said, h“He never failed. He just found 10,000ten thousand ways that wouldn’t work.”

“I like that. Do you want me to help you settle in? I’d love to see your office.”

“That’ll be great., Aah, I invited Anderson to dinner.”

“WYou…where, …when?”

“Friday night around seven, here.”

“But I’m not a good cook, and you want me to cook dinner for your boss and his wife?”

“He’s not my boss, he doesn’t have a wife, he’s gay, and that chicken thing you make is good.”

“Oh, Billy!.”

Chapter 14

Mr. Anderson is going to be here any minute. I could die! Just die! I’m scared to death. What if everything tastes terrible? Billy said he was going to serve martinis and I should make an appetizer. I borrowed wine glasses and two white linen table clothes from Mom. One is on the card table in the living room where I put the shrimp appetizer that cost a fortune. Tand the other table cloth is on the kitchen table, whichthat doesn’t look too bad. At least the orange stoneware dishes match and the stainless-steel knives and forks look okay.

Oh God, the bell!.

“Billy, he’s here. Will you get the door?”

“Yeah…Norm,”— they shake hands—, “come in. This is Beth.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Anderson,” I say, smiling.

“So, Billy,” he says, “this is your little place., Ssoon to be improved upon, eh?”

They laugh as Billy hangs his jacket on the clothes tree. I feel kinda funny. I hope I look all right in these brown slacks and shirt. I know why Billy’s wearing a suit and tie. Mr. Anderson looks like the front cover of a mean’s fashion magazine. He’s much older than we are, but handsome, perfect teeth, perfect arched brown eyebrows, haircut, silk-like tanned skin, manicured finger nails.

“Excuse me,” I say. “I have a few things to do in the kitchen. Enjoy your martinis.”

I pray the chicken casserole will be good. The lettuce salad is fresh, the dinner rolls and chocolate cake squares for dessert are from the expensive bakery on the corner.

“Dinner’s ready,” I say.

They join me at the table., I hold my breath as , Billy’s takesing a bite.,

“This is great, Beth.”

I fly to heaven. Dinner is going well. It’s interesting, listening to their conversation, including how important it is for Billy to recruit good salespeople quickly.

when Mr. Anderson says, “Beth, clear this mess,”. Anderson says. “I don’t like to sit at dirty table while I drink my coffee.”

I don’t understand. He’s giavinge me an order?.

“Mr. Anderson, we’ll have our coffee in the living room.”

I fill our coffee cups on the a tray and mosey follow along behind them, listening to Mr. Andersonthem talking to Billy.

Andersonwhen he stops and , points to the card table where the shrimp was. “I can’t stand a mess. Clear away these dirty plates.”

He gave me aAnother order?. He is rude, but I won’t say anything. I want this to go well for Billy. I pick up the appetizer plates and the table clothtablecloth, whichthat has red stains from the dip for the shrimpcocktail sauce. On my way back to the kitchen,

Anderson says, “Billy, yesterday’s wealth was whales’ teeth or horses or land. Today it’s money, lots and lots of money., Sstock market gains and assets. The top 1% of Americans control 38% of the wealth.”

I return as Billy says, “Everything is for sale today.” ,” Billy says.

“Not everything,” he says. “Congress is already bought and paid for, so you better be among the haves., Tthe great divide is impregnable for the have- nots.”

I say, “AnThe article in yesterday’s paper compared that to feudalism,” I say, “except instead of accumulating land in exchange for services, 20% of our American lLords control 93% of financial wealth, and the rest of us, the 80% control only 7%.”

Billy scowls at me.,

Anderson ignores me and says, “Billy, there will always be winners and losers, all we need is a bigger pie.”

I say, “The article disagreed with—…”

“…Billy,” Anderson says, cutting me off, “you better join the Republican conservative movement. They’re gobbling up state legislatures one by one and they’ll soon own the federal government.” Oh, he’s looking in the pockets of his jacket. Is he’s leaving? Ugh, no, hHe taookes a small white box out of his coat pocket.

“Chocolate mints are customary, always the perfect touch following dinner.”

He offers them only to Billy, unwraps one for himself. I go back to the kitchen. Maybe I’ve got this evening all wrong. Anderson just wants to get to know Billy better. I guess I shouldn’t have said anything. B, but he makes me feel like a maid. After a few minutes, I call Billy to come here a minute.

“What’s up, Beth?.”

“Mr. Anderson is rude. treating me like I’m a maid. He’s treating me like I’m a maidrude. Do you think he’ll leave soon? Could you make up some excuse so he’ll leave?”

“I didn’t know he’d be like this, honest, but I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“He gave me five thousand.”

“Dollars? He gave you…” A gay man gave Billy five thousand dollars?

“He said the money is a pre-emptive bonus to jump-start the agency. He doesn’t give that bonus to everyone. He believes in me. He said I’m a late bloomer, that I’ve got what it takes. , so forget it. Once I settle in at the office, he’ll be off to Texas, so forget about him. How about we go to my office

tomorrow?”

“Oh, I’d love that. I’ll stay in the kitchen until he leaves.”

But when it geots to ten o’clock and they’ were still talking in the living room, I sayid good night and went go to bed.

I don’t know when Mr. Anderson finally left, but I’ll be glad when he goes back to Texas. And there’s no reason for me to feel uncomfortable about that money and him being gay. Billy’s not gay.

It’s late afternoon when we enter the Garfield Building. “Billy, look, you’re on the dDirectory—Wallenford Insurance Agency, Suite 115. This is awesome.”

Surrounding me in the lobby are black and white paintings, or maybe prints, of birds. Large green-leaf plants gleam in big, black, shinny pots on either side of the gold-colored elevator doors. A large paint brushpaintbrush stroke of red is across the front of the white, half-moon shaped reception desk, where a woman sits, smiling.

I walk through his office door and stare atsee three brown metal desks. , Eeach has a computer

and a matching two- drawer file cabinet. I’m having trouble believing this is real.

“Two desks are for agents to share, the other desk next to my office is Gail’s, my secretary. and…”

“…Where did Gail come from?”

“Roosevelt High, she’s a senior. She’ll work Saturdays and a couple of days after school., Na nice kid. I gave her a key so she can come in anytime. She won’t need me here to copy and mail forms to the corporate office. The rent includes everything—, utilities, access to a meeting room, copy and postage machines, and an option on a large suite on the second floor when I expand.”

“Oh, Billy.,” I hug him, my eyes tearing. “I can’t believe this. It’s wonderful.”

“What are you crying about?” Hhe smiles, leading me by the hand into the smaller, second room. “Welcome to s my office.”

I wipe my eyes. There is a desk, executive chair, matching file cabinet, and computer, with and the bright sunlight coming through the two large windows. It fills me with hope. He has everything! he needs Everything to be successful. No one could ask for more.

“Billy, this is like a dream. I see lots and lots of policies all over the desks.”

That’s what I said that day, what I wanted to believe, but we have been excited like that before. So, when he sold only a few policies and recruited only one salesman in two months, the notice from the Wallenford corporate office didn’t come as too much ofas a surprise.

Notice of Probation

Notice of Probation

Immediate steps must be taken to correct the following:

Agent Mr. Benjamin Laken must upgrade his clients;, sales and recruitment of salespeople must increase;, and you must replace your secretary. She is submitting the wrong forms and, is not following home office procedures as provided in the Procedures and Policies of Wallenford Insurance Company Manual.

These improvements must take place within the next thirty days. If not, your contract , under V.III, will be terminated. per section V, subsection iii of your Agency Agreement.

Larry Wallenford, President

Everything’s slipping away. I don’t know what to do. Mom says never tell anyone your personal business, but I need to talk to someone. I can’t talk to her. She’d just yell at me and bad- mouth Billy. I don’t want to text Ann. Maybe…,

“Father Perez, may I, could I possibly see you sometime today?”

“Of course, Beth., Iin fact, I can see you right now.”

“Thank you. I’ll be there ASAP.”

I step into a forgotten world of long ago when I get off the bus and walk past St. Rita’s

Church and school. If there’s help to be found, it must be here. I climb the stairs of the rectory, ring the bell.

“Thank you for seeing me, Father.”

“Not a problem. It’s nice to see you again., Ccome, sit down, make yourself comfortable. How can I help you?”

“It’s my husband. He, he sleeps, he sleeps late every morning, late, really late. I don’t know what time he gets up, or when he goes to work. He’s losing his insurance agency, we can’t pay our bills., I don’t know what to do.”

“What time does he go to bed at night?”

“I don’t know. He works nights, and when he gets home he reads., I’m usually in bed.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“Ever since we got married.”

“Have you talked to him about his sleep patterning?”

“Yes, but he gets upset, angry.”

“Is there anything wrong physically? Has he seen a doctor?”

“He said he has and that there’s nothing wrong physically.”

“Maybe he’s formed a bad habit, staying up too late at night.”

“He said I just don’t understand that he’s a night person. He does work nights.”

“Perhaps he can’t, or doesn’t want to, face the day. But I’m not schooled in this area. I suggest your husband see a psychiatrist or, or a social worker, counselor—, or some professional who might help him, —and you.”

“My insurance at the bank won’t cover that.”

“Then try talking to him again. He’s not Catholic, but if he wants me to, I could refer him to a priest who is professionally trained.”

“I’ll try. …Tthank you, Father.”

I haven’t called Billy in the morning since he broke my clock., and I feel guilty now, lying at work about being sick so I can go home. But I must make sure I’m not wrong. I’ve got to know for sure if he is or isn’t sleeping in during the morning. This is the only way I can find out.

It’s noon and hot., Wwalking home from the train stop,. I stop and, wait a few minutes holding my breath before I turn the corner onto our street. No! I don’t want to believe what I see. The car, o—our car is parked under the port. He’s home.

I walk into the lobby of our complex, not knowing what I’m going to do or say. I quietly open the door.; Hhis shoes are still on the living room floor. I go into the bedroom. He’s sound asleep under the blanket, his mouth hanging open. I stand there helpless, looking down at him.

“Billy?”

Silence.

“Billy,” I say again, a little louder.

He rolls over, startled, his blue eyes dark.

“We’ve got to talk about your sleeping. You’re in bed when your agency is on probation. Please, don’t turn away. I talked to Father Perez. He’ll help you find someone you can talk to, someone who might help you stop sleeping like this.”

I start to cry.

Silence.

“Your wonderful agency, an awesome opportunity. We’re getting letters, emails and calls from collection agencies, threats to garnishee my salary. Please, Billy, please get out of bed. Talk to me.”

He doesn’t move. His back is to me.

When I touch his bare shoulder, when he shoots up and, hits me across my face.

, I fall, get up.

He’s raising his arm.

, I blurt out, “If you hit me again, I’ll call the police!”

His face goes blank. I stand a second beside the bed looking down at him, curled up under the blanket like a dog with his tail between his legs.

I run to the bathroom and, rinse my face in cold water. I , grab my purse, run out the door, not knowing where I’m going., admitting nothing is going to change, what is the answer? Where can I go? I can’t go to Mom’s. I’m so hot. Cool, iIt’s cool in the library. I sit at athe table covered with newspapers feeling my heavy breathing starting to calm. At five thirty, when I’m pretty sure he won’t be there, I go home.

There’ was a note on the kitchen table. Beth, I’m sorry.

A few days later, I talked to Billy again about his sleeping problem and Father’s offer. But he saysid he doesidn’t need any psychiatrist, his body clock is fine, just different. A, so all I can do is accept the fact that he’ll get up when he feels like it, that money will probably always be a problem, and that I’m in a difficult marriage.

How odd., Aaccepting those facts makes me feel better, almost peaceful.

If Billy’s worried about being on probation, or losing his agency, it doesn’t show. He seems to glide along, smiling, reading books like 97 Ways to the Top, Unlocking the Secrets of Self-Esteem, Igniting Sales in Three Easy Lessons. , He keeps going to seminars, workshops and conferences about self-improvement, management strategies, selling techniques. He did recruit a new salesman, but too late. The letter terminating his Agency Aagreement arrived fromwith the Wallenford Insurance Company arrived exactly thirty days to the date.

I don’t answer the land house phone anymore;, it’s always another collection agency. When I opened one of our credit card bills that included a nine-hundred-dollar charge for a new suit I wanted to say, are you crazy? Bbut why bother?. We’re so far in debt it doesn’t matter.

I leave for class, where I can forget all of this for a little while. Billy texts that he’s having lunch at Henri’s with his mom. I know he’s going to ask her for money.

***

“Mom, the home office expected miracles! All I need is more time. If you can bail me out, everything will be fine in a few months.”

“How much is it this time? I can’t keep doing this, Billy.”

“This will be the last time. I’ve got a plan.”

“You haven’t told me how much.”

“Around thirty, …forty thousand.”

“Forty thousand dollars!?”

“Don’t freak! That’s not a lot of money today.”

“I can’t., Dad and I can’t afford to give you that much money.”

“Why not? You don’t have to tell him. Come on, Mom, I’ll make it up to you. It’s not a loan, it’s an investment.”

“You haven’t paid back any of the money I’ve given you. I could never give you that much money without telling your father, and in any event we cannot afford it.”

“But I’ve got to have it, Mom. You’re not going to hang me out to dry when all I need is

a few more months?. I’ve got two guys who will make great agents and the money will be rolling in. Come on!, y You’ve got the money.”

“I can’t this time, Billy.”

Why hasn’t she said the magic words? Why hasn’t she said ‘I’ll help you this time…?

“Sure you can!. Your house., Yyou can mortgage your house.”

“How can you ask Dad and meus to mortgage our home, knowing that could seriously hurt us financially in the future? Don’t you dare ask me to do that. Don’t you realize how much money forty thousand dollars is? I’ve helped you all I can, dear, but not this time.”

“You’re not…Mom, what am I going to do? If you don’t help me I can’t save the agency. I’ll have to declare bankruptcy!.”

“I’m sorry., Tthis is breaking my heart too.”

***

I didn’t tell anyone when Billy declared bankruptcy. It doesn’t matter that I feel ashamed, there wasn’t anything else to do. F, for better or worse, in sickness and in health, ‘till death do us part.

Now, with a fresh start, maybe I’ll find a better way to control our money without offending him. What amazes me is how he glides along as if everything’s fine. It’s like he’s under a bright, cloudless, blue -sky where nothing can touch him. He said he’s going to turn a lemon into lemonade—, that’s a saying he picked up at a seminar. And for sure, something’s up. He’s been glued to the computer for weeks, writing something.

“Beth, did you get the mail?”

“Yes, here’s a letter for you. Is this what you’ve been waiting for? I don’t recognize the return address.”

He grabs it, rips open the flap.

“Yes! This …this will be great.…. Tthat son -of -a -bitch!” He’s tearing up the letter.

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

“The son -of -a -bitch said no to my proposal. Uncle Dwight has millions, maybe billions tens of millions for all I know. I sent him a ten-page proposal asking for a lousy hundred thousand to be my partner and to buy a $1one- million- dollar policy to protect our business. You know what that is to him? Petty cash. I listed companies I’d represent, types of policies I’d offer, included pie charts and spread sheets estimating and projecting expenses and income, even a logo design, and he sends me a God damn one- sentence rejection letter!?”

“I don’t know what to say except I’m sorry, Billy. Does he know about the bankruptcy?”

“Not a chance. Mom won’t tell anyone. To hell with him. I don’t need any partner, or to pay rent for an office!. I’ll work from home, right here!. Wait till I tell her about her fuckin’ brother.”

Chapter 15

I don’t know what Miriam said when he told her about her brother. All I do know is her real estate office was upgrading equipment and furniture and she got a desk and file cabinet free for Billy’s home office. Our small living room is crowded but that’s okay. I didn’t ask where he got the money for the new computer, stationary and a new land house phone with three lines.

I don’t know when he gets up., I just go to work.

He’ll do whatever he does, days and nights.

He’s bringing in a little money. A, and it’s a relief not getting calls from collection agencies, no mega bills hanging over us, at least for now. I pray the future is better than the past. Billy seems content, being on his own. Papers and files cover his desk, a monthly -planner calendar is on the wall. with Aa big red X coversn next Saturday and Sunday, reminding him to attend the seminar, You’ve Got It: Don’t Doubt It! seminar.

I still like being a teller. I recognize a fewsome of the customers now, and they like not being asked for their driver’s license. What came as a terrific surprise yesterday was a bonus added to my

paycheck because I got straight As at Harrington.

I’m waiting now for Billy. Mom invited us to dinner at Phil’s Grill Food Place and he’s late. so I better text Mom.:

running late. be there soon.

Soon was 20 twenty minutes.

The instant we step inside the overflowing dining room Mom hollers to us from a table in the middle of the room., “Where have you been? I’ve been sitting here half an hour!”

I could die! Jjust die!.

“Mom, please, everyone is looking at us.” I knew she’d be mad., Sshe always gets mad if I’m not on the dot.

“Every time I invite you anywhere you make me worry,” she says without adjusting her volume. “If you can’t manage your time, who can?”

“Didn’t you get my text?” I say, helplessly. She invites us to dinner once a month and it always turns out this way. I ‘m glad when we leave.

“Olga,” Billy says. , “wWe’re not that late and we can’t stay long. I have an appointment.”

“Big business man like you certainly can’t be late for that!,” Mom snaps.

He reads the menu, ignoring her. I appreciated it when Billy agreed to go with me to visit my mom in spite of their mutual dislike. B—but no more. On our way home, he saysid he wilould not go again so I visit her alone now.

***

It’s Mother’s Day, so I invite Momher to brunch after Mass atin the new Italian restaurant across from Walmart after Mass. There are beautiful portraits on the walls of famous Italian-American-Italian singers and actors.

“Mom, do you like the portraits?”

“Yes, and there’s nothing like white table cloths and strolling violinists playing ‘“Volare.’”

“Happy Mother’s Day.” I give her athe card and twenty-five dollars.

“Thank you, and for the card.”

Her hair is almost completely gray, making an attractive contrast to her brown eyes, piercing as ever.

“I hope when you’re old you’re not alone.”

“You’re not that old, Mom.”

“You look tired, Beth.”

She always says that.

“I’m fine.” She always says that.

“I get so lonely sometimes.”

“Do you ever see people from the hospital?” That’s a useless question. ; I know she doesn’t.

“No, there isn’t anyone left at the hospital I care to see.”

“You could volunteer at the hospital, or how about joining St. Rita’s Ladiey’s Society? They sponsor book fairs, have all kinds of events, and you’d meet new people.”

“I know you mean well, but no busy bodies for me who don’t know what’s going on in the world.”

She is well informed, if only she wasn’t so smug. I was about to suggest she join a book club, but kiss her on the forehead instead, feeling bad that she won’t, or can’t, reach out to others. I’ve wondered sometimes if she’s shy. We quietly finish brunch with an awesome piece of chocolate cake that must have at least a trillion calories.

“See you Saturday for Mass,” I say, giving her a hug.

***

Miriam’s tone is much friendlier when she calls now. We still go to dinner on Sundays, and they taught me how to play Euchkore, so we play after the dishes are in the dishwasher. It’s uncomfortable though, when Billy yells at me and Miriam yells at Clarence. We don’t answer them., Wwhy bother?

***Billy and I don’t go to movies as often as we used to.

Oops, my cell vibrated—unknown caller.

“Hello?” I don’t recognize the number on my cell.

“Is this Beth?” It’s a man. I don’t recognize the voice.

“Who are you calling?”

“I’m calling Billy’s wife.”

My heart jerks.

“Is Billy hurt? Yes, I’m Beth, his wife, is he all right?”

“He’s a son -of -a -bitch, and you tell him to leave my woman alone!”

“Who…? What are you talking about?” What is this man saying? I tremble.

“You tell that son -of -a -bitch to leave Louise alone. He’s strutting around here like a God damn peacock!”

Every nerve in my body explodes!.

“What? …Wwho is this? Hello? Hello?...!” The line is dead.

Louise? Another woman? Billy is seeing another woman? This can’t be!. That man must have us confused with another couple. Billy wouldn’t,…. couldn’t. Should I call his cell? No, he’s on a call, or is he? I’ll wait. I curl up on the sofa, shaking, staring at TV not seeing or hearing. The next thing I know, it’s midnight. I stay curled on the sofa, waiting for him to walk in. I will not fall asleep.

A ; a key is unlocking the door.

“What are you doing up?” He’s stunned to see me.

“A man…” I can barely talk.

“‘What’s the matter with you?”

I clear my throat. “A man called.” I clear my throat.

“Yeah, …so? Who was he?”

I can’t look at him. He’s standing in front of me.

“He didn’t say. He said …who is…” I can’t. What if it’s true?

“For Christ’s sake,. what the hell did he say?”

“Do you know a Louise?” I’m trembling.

“Huh?” He’s frowning.

“Are you seeing another woman?”

No answer. Why doesn’t he say no!?

“Are you seeing another woman?”

“Yes.”

I can’t breathe., Tthose words rip open the old wound. My heart is breaking apart, piece by piece, scrap by scrap, kernel by kernel, grain by grain, molecule by molecule. …. I picture him again, holding another woman in his arms as he holds me. I can’t look at him. How many other women have there been? when I hear myself say, “Do you want a divorce?” I don’t know where those words came from.

“Yes.”

Yes?… Hhe said yes? I can’t…I didn’t expect that. …where is the terror coming from?

“You get out of here,!” I shoutcry. “Get your things tomorrow while I’m at work.”

In the morning, I go to work, full of turmoil that goes on for days. Was our entire life together a lie? I’m a failure, embarrassed, ashamed. What will Mom say? , Ann… Divorce is wrong, all wrong. —Ttill death do us part, in sickness and in health. We shouldn’t just give up., I love Billy, maybe he still cares for me, at least a little. Oh, I’ve got a text from him:

do you have an attorney?

before we see lawyers we should talk to a marriage counselor

OK who, where and when

That’s a surprise. I thought he’d say no. That means he believes there is hope that we can work things out.

When I telephoned Father Perez, he refersred usme to Monsignor Martinez in the diocese office on the other side of town. Hiswhose office is in athis beautiful old mansion. There are with two huge white pillars on each side of the massive white double front door.

“Good morning,” I say to his secretary. “We have an appointment.”

“This way, please.”

Billy and I follow, walking silently on the gleaming gray marble floor. What will the monsignor say? Father told me he was a trained family counselor. I don’t want a divorce or the church’s annulment, whichthat can take years. I want our marriage to work, to be happy. I love Billy. I really do…I think I do, I’m scared., Hhow could this happen?

“Come in, sit down,” Monsignor Martinez says, shaking Billy’s hand. He’s a bit overweight and looks to be in his late 60s sixtiesand a bit overweight. There’s oOne blue file lay on top of his large, oak desk. “I commend you, may I call you Billy? I see you agreed to all the Catholic conditions when you married Beth. Have you considered embracing Catholicism?”

I’m scared to death I’m losing my marriage and he wants to convert Billy?

Billy grins. “Not really.,” Billy grins.

“Perhaps you will change your mind as you watch your children learn about the Holy Mother Church and our dear Lord, Jesus Christ. It is to your credit that you, being here as a non-Catholic, are allowing me to help you work out your difficulties. I see here,” he says, reading from the open blue file, “you are an insurance agent.”

“Yes.”

“Do you like your line of work?”

“Yes.”

“It’s not easy earning a living these days, is it?”

“You got that right!.” Billy laughs. “I’m in the insurance business for myself.”

“Ah, ...an entrepreneur. I’m not equipped to counsel you on how to deal with financial issues, so if that’s part of your problems, here’s Father Finnegan’s card. He’s the expert. Where a successful marriage is concerned, having and raising a family consolidates and enhances love and devotion between husband and wife. “Beth, I see here you don’t have any children.,” Hhe closes the blue file.

“No, we don’t.” What is this man talking about?

“Is there a medical reason?”

“Not that I know of.”

“You are both young and healthy. Why don’t you have children, Beth?”

“Children are not our problem.”

“You are a practicing Catholic. You’re not practicing birth control, are you?”

I want to say ‘of course I am’ but say, “Yes, I am.” I surprise myself when I hear how annoyed I sound. I don’t understand why he is criticizing me. Doesn’t that file tell him about Billy and the other women?

“You are Catholic, you know that is a sin. When you have children you become a family, they bring you and your husband together to grow deeper in a mutual love. “Billy, do you want children?”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

Our world is falling apart and he’s talking about usour having children.

“Beth, you see?, Yyour husband wants a family.”

“I have nothing to say, Monsignor.”

When is he going to talk about adultery, loyalty, respect, responsibility, earning a living? He’s turning away from me like I’m the bad guy.

“Billy, every marriage hits some rough spots, mostly due to misunderstandings that, when clarified, will make you wiser, happier, and once again the loving couple you were on your wedding day. Clarification furthers understanding of the heavy responsibilities a man carries in marriage, to recognize misunderstandings, to clarify so as not to be quick about assuming a remark is an intended insult, to be honest with each other and, most of all, raise a family together. Our first step is to identify, then clarify, your particular issues., Tthat will take time. Do both of you agree to meet with me once a week, say for the next six weeks more or less, depending upon what progress we make?”

“Sure, …all right,” Billy says, sort of grinning.

“To get off to a good start for our next meeting, tell me, Billy, what do you see as your the major problem in your marriage?”

“She never stops talking about money.”

“Money is frequently a symptom not a cause, so contact Father Finnegan for practical

ways to deal with financial issues. You know women worry more about money than we men. We’ll search for the cause, or causes, if you agree, Billy.”

If Billy agrees? Am I here? Does this priest see me sitting here?

“Sure, that’s fine.”

Billy is…he’s enjoying this.

“You know women worry more about money than we men. That does it for today., I’ll see

you both next Saturday at the same time.”

“Sure,” Billy says, smiling, shaking the mMonsignor’s hand.

“Beth, as an aside, your marriage is valid. I see no grounds for an annulment. You should examine your conscience and stop practicing birth control. Should an unfortunate divorce occur, you may not re-marry in the Catholic Church.”

I don’t answer. Billy and I leave his office together.,

“Do you want a lift home, Beth?”

“No thanks.”

I sit on the bench in front of the mansion, watching him walk to the car.

What just happened? This meeting made no sense to me. Billy and the monsignor got along great. It’s my fault our marriage is failing because we don’t have children? Huh? That priest’s crazy if he thinks children would have changed anything for the better. But Billy did agree to more meetings. He wouldn’t do that unless he thinks, or wants, to work things out, to get back together.

Back together. That’s what I want, isn’t it? Back together?Together. That’s why I came to a marriage counselor. I’m crying. I want our marriage and Billy, not a divorce. Right?

He’s waving to me from the car, smiling, like it’s just another day.

I tried., I honestly tried to be a good wife. And now

What am I doing now? I’m going to meet again with Billy and the mMonsignor so we might get back together. Why doesn’t that possibility make me feel good? What hurts the most is I now question whether Billy still doesn’t loves me. Did he ever? He never said I love you. Was our whole life together a lie? No, it wasn’t.

But if I go back, I’d go back to a cheater, a liar. I’ll be, scared and worried about money all the time, while he sleeps and makes love tosleeps around with other women, turning our love-making into a lie and something dirty. Billy’s not going to change. That’s the future if we get back together.

What am I doing? Is that what I want? No! IOr is this an opportunity? Is this my chance to be free? I’ve never been free. A million pounds feel like they lift off me, drift away. I won’t go back., Nno matter what might happen to me, I won’t go back.

I enter the a number on my cell.

“Monsignor, this is Beth.”

“Yes, we had a good meeting and I hope you give serious thought to what I said.”

“Monsignor, I’m calling to tell you I will not be back. You will never see me again.”

I end the call.

There was no point in telling him that I will absolutely remarry someday. No all-knowing, loving God would consider living a natural life a sin. That’s crazy. And I’ll have children when my future husband and I want them. Looks like I won’t be going to cChurch anymore, and I won’t be going to hell either. My conscience is clear, like Father Perez said, my conscience tells me what’s right or wrong.

I don’t know what’s going to happen. Maybe this is how people feel when they jump out of an airplane, hoping the parachute opens.

I stumble through the next couple of days, putting off two phone calls. I’ll call Mom first, get it over with. What will she say? That I’m a failure, that marriage is till death do us part, that I need to apply to the cChurch for an annulment, that she told me I shouldn’t have married him in the first place?. Whatever she says, nothing is going to change my mind.

“Mom, it’s me. Am I calling at a bad time?”

“No, this is fine. What is it?”

“Ah…Billy…Mom, I’m not sure how to tell you.”

“Well, just say it.”

“I’m going to get a divorce.”

“It’s about time.”

“What?” What did she say? Did she really say it’s about time? She’s not criticizing me for failing in my marriage?

“What did you say?”

“I said it’s about time you dumped that loser. You just come home now and everything will be fine.”

I don’t answer.

“Did you hear me? Are you there?”

“Yes, I’m here. Thanks, Mom, talk to you later.”

I won’t move back home, even if I can’t do what I want to do.

I make another call. Her cell is ringing. I hope she’s home. I’ll be older but…,

“Aunt Jasmin?”

“Beth, what a surprise. How nice to hear from you.”

“I’m calling to let you know I’m going to get a divorce.”

“I’m sorry to hear that if you are. How’s your mom? Are you still working at the bank?”

“Mom’s fine and I’m a teller now. I’m calling for another reason.”

“And that is?”

“Do you remember when you offered to send me to college?”

“Yes.”

“Would that still be possible? I mean, could I still go the college? I don’t have any money. Billy had to declare bankruptcy.”

“As I recall I did sayalso said to call me if you changed your mind, and of course the offer still stands. I’m delighted, and I know Uncle Harry is too. Do you know what you want to study?”

“Oh, yes! I want to be a sSpeech and dDrama tTeacher.”

“Wonderful., I suppose you’ll go to the Las Vegas campus of Sierra Nevada College?”

“No.” “

“Oh., Aanother university in Nevada?”

“If it’s possible, I want to go to the University of Washington in Seattle. It’s consistently ranked first or second in my field.”

“Sounds like you’re making an excellent fresh start, good for you. When you have all the details, send them along and we’ll move as quickly as possible. Beth, I know divorce is painful, I’ve been there. And sometimes getting over the pain takes a very long time, even when it’s the right thing to do. I hope you don’t mind mey saying be cautious., Yyou’re vulnerable now, and will be for as long it takes to bury the hurt. You’ll meet asome wonderful guy someday, just as I met your wonderful Uncle Harry.

“Thanks, Aunt Jasmin., I don’t know how to….”

“Don’t cry, Beth, or you’ll make Uncle Harry cry in heaven. We love you dear.”

I look out the window. Big, puffy clouds float around in the deep- blue sky in the bright sunlight. Mom was Mom when I told her my plans, telling me I’m making a big mistake leaving a secure job., Aand even though I knew in advance she’d bad- mouth Aunt Jasmin, her remarks still made me feel bad. Mom’s so resentful and unhappy. I’ll call her every Saturday.

I’m legally free now. The divorce only took two weeks since, we both willingly signed the documents and, no kids or property were involved. Ann texted me the other day to let me knowthat Billy was getting remarried and had asked Richard to be his best man again. Richard, but he turned him down. He’s marrying that Louise. She’s a widow with two children, and rich. When Ann told me that, it made me feel bad. I don’t know why. It just did.

I had to laugh though, when I told Ann I was going to college she was as excited as I was.

Oh, the light just flashed to fasten on our seat belts.

We’ll be landing at Seattle-Tacoma International any minute now.

The end

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