Becoming Who We Are Ch. 08

The five-minute bell sounded, and Patricia put away her paperwork and took out her attendance book. One more day, and then two weeks of freedom. As much as she enjoyed teaching, she needed the break.

**

Luke put away his gym clothes with a feeling of dread. While the other boys chattered happily about their plans for Christmas break, Luke foresaw two weeks of relentless criticism with no relief. He had called Shelly three or four times after her inexplicable departure. Each time, she had hung up on him. Although the logical part of his brain told him she did like him but obviously had other problems, he listened instead to that inner voice that accused him of being ugly and worthless, and concluded she did not share his feelings. The realization left him depressed and drained. To have felt so alive after feeling so numb for so long ... Now he hurt worse than ever. He closed his eyes as he shut his gym locker, then leaned against the metal door. What was so wrong with him that no one loved or wanted him?

Putting that thought aside, Luke trudged to his other locker and collected the textbooks and notebooks he would need over the holidays. Every teacher except Frau Jaeger and Coach Spencer had assigned work over the break, but he added those texts to his bag too. He knew his parents not only would expect him to study math, but would not believe that Coach Spencer had not assigned any homework. He wished again that Shelly would talk to him. TO his parents' amazement, he had brought home an "A" on a test after her inspired tutoring, but his performance had slid back to its usual level afterward. As for German, he enjoyed it and figured he might as well read ahead, especially if he decided to take the national German Achievement Test in the spring.

He swung the heavy pack over one shoulder and worked his arm under the other strap. The school library had closed for the day, so he had no alternative but to go home. He intended to make the journey last as long as he could.

**

Shelly regarded her dog with a mixture of affection and exasperation. Shelby sat by the back door, his leash in his mouth, giving her the most pathetic look in his repertoire. No other dog in the Western Hemisphere suffered such neglect, his eyes seemed to say. If she really loved him, she'd take him outside for a walk.

"Oh, all right," she said to him.

His tail thumped against the doorjamb as she bent down to snap his leash to his collar. The look worked every time, he thought smugly. No human could resist it.

Once outside, Shelby lifted his snout to determine if the breeze held any interesting scents, then dropped it to give the ground a thorough snuffle. Shelly laughed. Silly dog. His antics never failed to lift her spirits.

And her spirits needed lifting these days. In the weeks since she had stormed out of the Tang house, she had found her thoughts returning again and again to Luke. She felt awful about what she had done. She didn't quite know what had possessed her to throw away such a promising relationship. No one had ever said such nice things to her, or had treated her so tenderly.

Although she reviewed the incident several times, she kept coming up with a blank. And while Shelly knew in her heart that she had some kind of emotional curse on her, she did have complete confidence in her brains. The fact the she could not find a logical answer to her question annoyed her.

The odd thing was that her friends -- back when she had had friends -- always had come to her for advice and she had always delivered. Why couldn't she apply the same skills to her own problems? She scowled, yanking Shelby away from a particularly aromatic fire hydrant. He gave an injured yelp, but trotted after her.

She wished she could discuss the situation with someone. Her mother, of course, was impossible. Shelly didn't know how to contact her father; he had left when she was just a baby, and she had not heard from him since she was five. Thirteen years! She sighed. Even if she'd had an address, she didn't think she'd be able to have a heart-to-heart with him.

Her mother's boyfriend she refused to think about. She had never told anyone about the shameful things he had done to her -- he had threatened to kill Shelby if she said a word to anyone -- and she never intended to. Thank God -- if there was a God, that is -- that he had ignored her since last year's unexpected growth spurt. Certainly she could not talk to him.

At her new school, Shelly remained on the periphery of the cliques. A few kids seemed nice enough, but they never invited her to do anything with them after school or on the weekends. That left her old friends, the ones her mother had forbidden her to see.

A pull on the leash brought her back to reality. Shelby quivered with bloodthirsty instinct as a squirrel darted up a tree.

"Shelby, you goof," she said. "It's just a squirrel. Calm down."

Shelby peered up at the furry beast and growled as it scolded him. He wished his mistress would let go of the leash, just for a minute. No self-respecting dog should have to take such abuse from a tree-climbing, acorn-gnawing rodent!

Pulling on the leash, the girl dragged the dog several feet before Shelby decided he'd prefer to walk under his own power. Relieved, Shelly returned to her thoughts.

She considered her old friends. Although she would never admit it to her mother, she did feel kind of glad to be free of them. She had enjoyed the drinking and partying, and certainly the guys had proven willing enough to be led to bed, but other than that, she had little in common with them. That was one reason she had liked Luke so much. At nineteen, he had more brains and imagination than most guys she knew. She loved drawing him out and listening to him talk about all the things he wanted to do when he could leave home.

They rounded a corner and she surveyed the street with a shock. Somehow, her feet had led her to his neighborhood. A slight, black-haired figure with a heavy pack plodded down the street. She wanted to call to him, but her throat dried out and her stomach started doing calisthenics. She felt unable even to whisper. He did not look up and walked into his house without seeing her.

She stood on the corner for a long minute, then whirled and pulled at Shelby's leash. She bit the inside of her lip until she tasted blood, then castigated herself for being stupid during rest of the walk home.

**

Mrs. Tang no longer decorated much for the holidays. She allowed the children to put up an artificial Christmas tree -- she refused to have a live tree shedding sticky needles onto her immaculate floor -- and she did like having a wreath on the door. However, she loathed shopping in hot stores with all those people pressing around her, so she told her children each year that Christmas had become too commercial, and that their restrained celebration captured the true spirit of the season, just as their own names reflected the family's worship of Christ. They did not believe one word of her explanation, but had learned not to protest too much or she would buy them nothing but underwear and socks.

The restaurant's clientele had mushroomed over the last few months. During their vacation, all three teens found themselves working most days, usually during the lunch shifts. Mary minded the register under the supervision of her mother, while Luke washed dishes, and Mark waited tables. The regular waiters did not begrudge him the midday shifts. Lunches never cost as much as dinners, and the tips reflected this. Still, a few customers left five or ten dollars on top of a ten or twenty-dollar meal, and Mark soon found he had enough money to get Melina a present he knew she would love.

During one of their forays to the mall, she had admired a pair of silver earrings from which beads of lapis lazuli dangled. They would look spectacular on her, he had thought, wishing he had the thirty bucks to buy them. Now he did, and he anxiously took the bus to the mall to see if the store still had them. He hurried to the store and spotted them in the case.

"May I help you?" a pudgy man asked.

"Yes. I want to buy those, please," Mark replied, pointing at the earrings.

"Certainly," the man said in the jolly way some salespeople affect. "Present for someone special?"

"Um, yes," Mark said, blushing. Why did adults have to make such a big deal out of everything?

"Well, she should love these. Very nice design. I was thinking about them for my niece. Shall I gift wrap them for you?"

"Please."

With deft hands, the man wrapped the small box with paper and a flourish of ribbon.

"Will this do?"

"Absolutely. It looks great."

"I'll just put a little card in your bag, too," the man said. "It's the same size as the box, so it won't dwarf it as a regular card would."

"Thanks."

Mark paid and endured another wink as he accepted the bag, feeling uncomfortable with the man's attentions.

"Happy holidays. Your friend's very lucky to have such a generous young man."

"Um, thanks."

Still blushing, Mark dashed from the store. If he hurried, he thought, he could make the next bus. The salesman stared after him wistfully. Nice looking kid, he thought, then turned back to the business at hand.

**

By the time Julie arrived home on December twenty-third, the Taylor family had reached a pleasant state of uproar. Her mother's parents and paternal grandmother had already arrived, with Aunt Julie, for whom she was named, and her husband and three kids due any second. She regarded the new house, as she thought of it, with interest. She had seen the house last summer, but she still had not gotten used to it.

"Ready to plunge into the fray?" her father asked.

She smiled. Her father could be such a dear.

"I'm still reeling from finals, but I think so."

"That's my girl," he said fondly. He picked up her bag, put his other arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. "It's good to have you back. We've missed you."

"Likewise."

She had, especially at the beginning. Julie could not believe how much she had wanted to come home that first week, sure she had made a mistake in choosing George Mason, sure that she would never fit in. Yet within three weeks, she had met Cliff Jennison, the man she felt sure she wanted to marry. God, he was perfect! She wondered what he was doing at that moment, then shook her head slightly to bring herself back to the present. He'd call her tonight and she could certainly last until then. Well, probably.

The front door burst open and Melina ran down the front stairs to meet them, her arms wide to hug her sister. The two embraced enthusiastically, then walked into the house arm in arm, leaving the colonel to bring in the bags. He snorted, then smiled. Women!

Upstairs, a gaggle of relatives hurried to greet Julie. Melina watched, amused, as the grandparents subjected her sister to the same intensive quizzing they had given Melina upon their arrival. Julie admitted to gaining three pounds, dating a senior, and enjoying college, but kept the details to a minimum. Melina grinned to herself. She looked forward to comparing notes later.

Not until long after dinner did the sisters have a chance to talk together, and that opportunity came only because Julie had to sleep in Melina's room.

"So what's with the senior?" Melina asked after she turned out the light.

Julie chuckled.

"I wondered when you were going to corner me about that. I'll tell you only if you promise not tell anyone else in the family, especially Grandma Fletcher. I had forgotten what an interrogation from her is like. Too bad she wasn't a detective. She'd have solved every crime because she'd wear all the criminals down."

Melina laughed and said, "Deal. You secrets are safe with me."

"Good. I always could trust you. Well, his name's Cliff Jennison and he's a senior from New Jersey. He's a runner, too, which is how we met. He has the best legs!"

"You've always looked at legs, haven't you?"

"Occupational hazard, sis. All runners do it. Anyway, he's really smart and really sweet and really cute. He wants to be a sports psychologist."

"What's that?"

"Someone who counsels athletes."

"Why would athletes need counseling?"

"Injuries and things can affect a person's frame of mind, which can then affect their physical performance."

"Oh, I see."

"It's very up and coming. Anyway, I think he's just about perfect."

"I can see that. But what's he like? Is he chatty, or quiet, or funny, or what?"

"He's pretty quiet until you get to know him. Like you, kind of."

"Do you really like him?"

Julie was silent for a few moments.

"Actually, I think I love him. I mean, I know I love him."

Melina sat up.

"You do?"

"Yes, I do. I ... even think I might want to marry him."

"Marry him? That's great and everything, but I don't get it. How can you be thinking that way already?"

"I don't understand it myself," Julie admitted. "You know I've always had a boy or two lurking around, and I've gone out a lot and had fun. Before I met Cliff, I didn't expect to get married until I was at least twenty-five. But now I've met him and I, I can't explain it, but I'm sure he's the one. I've never met anyone who seemed so right for me."

"Does he want to get married?"

"Not yet. He thinks we should wait until I graduate."

Melina felt a wave of relief wash over her. Their mother had married their father after her sophomore year. While she had never regretted that decision, she had told her daughters, she had wished she had graduated first. Not having a bachelor's degree had closed many employment doors, and she wanted her children to have the opportunities she had missed.

"But enough about me," Julie said, her voice taking on a teasing note. "Tell me about this Mark guy since I missed seeing him over Thanksgiving."

Melina lay back down and beamed into the darkness.

"He's great! Also very cute, funny, fun to be with, a good dancer, a good kisser, and really smart. You know, all the things a girl wants in a guy."

"How'd you meet?"

"He sits right in front of me in homeroom, Plus, we have band together."

"A musician? Excellent! What does he play?"

"Tenor sax. He also has a soprano, but he doesn't play it much."

"Ooo, so he's bisaxual!"

"Shut up!" Melina drawled, not meaning it.

"Oh, come on, sis. It's all in fun. He sounds very nice."

"He's also teaching me the fundamentals of self defense."

"Really? Cool! I always wanted to learn that, but I've never gotten around to it."

"It's a lot of work, but it does make me feel more confident."

"And a woman can always use it. So, am I going to meet him?"

"I hope so. He said he'd by tomorrow to give me my Christmas present."

"Are you two pretty serious, then?"

"I don't know. I really like him and I know he likes me. I haven't thought much further than that."

Both stared at the ceiling, each lost in her own thoughts.

"You think you'll, ah, do it with him?"

"Julie! How could you even say that?"

"Grow up, sis. You're a woman. He's a man. It happens."

"Have you done it with Cliff?"

Julie paused for several seconds.

"Yes."

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Well, what's it like?"

"Hard to explain. I'm not even sure I should try."

"Come on."

"We-ell," Julie said reluctantly, "after the first time, it's okay."

"What happens the first time?"

"It hurts," Julie said, her voice flat.

Melina gulped. This did not sound at all promising.

"But it gets better?"

"Yeah, especially if you and your partner talk about what you need and all." She paused again. "You know, I'm really not comfortable talking about this. I mean, Cliff and I only did it for the first time a couple of weeks ago, and I'm still getting used to the idea that I'm not a virgin anymore."

Both fell silent. Then Melina found her courage and asked, "Do you wish you had waited?"

"Don't know. Maybe. Maybe not."

"How come you sound so sad about it? I thought sex was supposed to make you happy and feel good."

Julie stared into the darkness, feeling tears behind her eyes.

"Oh, it does. It's just ... Melina, swear you won't say a word to anyone?"

"I swear."

"I think maybe I might be, um, pregnant."

Melina sat up again and switched on her lamp.

"What?!"

Julie looked at the floor.

"You heard me."

"But why do you say that?"

"My period's two days late."

"Have you taken a pregnancy test?"

Julie almost laughed.

"I haven't had the guts."

"Does Cliff know?"

"Not yet."

Melina sat back on her tailbone, regarding her sister's red eyes and woebegone face. She had never seen her sister look this way, and she didn't know what to do.

"Well, you can't take a test with Grandma in the house," she said. "She'll find out, and then she'll lecture you on losing your Christian morals."

"Tell me about it. I got a long lecture from her right before I left for college."

Melina stared at the wall for a minute, as if hoping to find a solution there.

"Maybe we could do it at Mark's house. His mother's never home around lunchtime and at night and his father's gone almost all the time."

"I'm not sure I want Mark in on this."

"Oh, Mark's a rock when it comes to trouble. When I was in the hospital, he came to see me every day after school and then at night. And he's always there for his brother."

"Do you think we could pull it off?" Julie asked.

"With the right amount of stealth, why not? If you can get your hands on a test -- there's a pharmacy real close to the college where you can probably buy one -- I can convince Mark to invite us over. The results don't take very long, do they?"

"Two to five minutes," Julie said. "I looked at one yesterday."

Melina shot her sister a glance and rubbed the back of her neck.

"This is going to take some finesse," she mused.

Julie stared at her younger sister.

"You sound exactly like Dad."

"Do not."

"Sure you do. You sound just like him when he's planning how to get around some obstacle at work, like that old C.O. of his, what's-his-name, Schwartz."

"It was a good day for all of us when he got transferred out of there, even if you had to leave at least five broken-hearted guys. Dad was such a jerk back then, although now that I think about it, that boss of his was probably to blame."

"You're growing up," Julie said, adding absently, "You know, Jay still writes."

"Figures. You and your harem. Anyway, do you think you can get to a drugstore tomorrow morning? Or I guess we could just walk down there and pick up one on the way to Mark's, even if it's not exactly on our route."

"I'm still not sure about getting your boyfriend involved."

"It's him or Grandma Fletcher. Take your pick."

"I know. Hobson's choice, I guess."

"Mark's great. He won't let us down."

The girls solidified their plans and settled down for the night. After a hearty breakfast and morning gabfest with the grandmothers and Aunt Julie, they made their excuses and escaped. Both inhaled the damp, cold air with relief.

"That was close," Melina said.

"Yeah. I thought for sure Aunt Julie was going to saddle us with her kids."

"Thank God for Grandma Fletcher," Melina grinned. "If she hadn't argued the weather was too cold..."

"If she only knew."

"Don't even say that. She probably has telepathy, or maybe antennae under that puffy blue hair of hers."

The girls walked at a brisk clip to the store, Melina setting the pace. She knew her sister had mixed feelings about even getting the test, but she felt certain it was the right thing to do. Better to know than to sit around worrying, she thought. Once they knew, they could decide what to do.

"You really have done a lot of growing up since I left," Julie remarked, picking up her thoughts from last night so she would not have to think about her own problems. "All of a sudden, you're not my baby sister anymore."