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Caitlyn
Caitlyn hadn’t told a single lie, so why did she feel like a snake? On Friday, Mom gave her permission to go over Zoe’s house with Keefe, and Caitlyn hadn’t even asked. “Of course, it won’t be a sleepover like last year.” Mom giggled. “But if you want to stay until eleven or twelve, that’s fine.” No doubt, Mom assumed Zoe’s parents would be there the entire time.
The clock struck seven and Jarret’s red car, looking picturesque under the street light and the sprinkle of snow, rolled into the Summers’ driveway. Keefe spoke with Dad while Caitlyn shoved her arms into her long wool coat and stuffed her feet into boots. Priscilla whined and complained, mad because she couldn’t go, not that she had gone last year either. Mom told her they’d have a little family party tomorrow, which meant cake, ice cream, music, and balloons—probably at the Brandts’ since tomorrow was Sunday.
Keefe escorted Caitlyn to the car and offered the front seat to her, but she didn’t want to sit next to Jarret, not even for the short ride to Zoe’s house.
“Can we just sit in the back?” Caitlyn said, a pleading look on her face.
“Um . . . okay.”
When she slid into the backseat and bumped into a present with a big blue bow, she realized why he’d wanted her to sit in the front. Keefe scooted in beside her, reached past her for the box, and set it on the front passenger-side seat. What could he have possibly gotten for a girl he’d just begun courting? She hoped it wasn’t something expensive.
“What, are you afraid to sit next to me?” Jarret peered through the rearview mirror.
She flashed a sweet smile at him. “Thanks for picking me up.”
He backed up fast and took off faster, making her hope Dad wasn’t watching through the window. Guilt gnawed at her stomach. What would Keefe do when he found out Zoe’s parents weren’t home?
Welcoming lights shone in every window of Zoe’s house. Balloons and streamers in the living room showed through the big front window. The door opened before they stepped onto the porch.
Zoe wore a dark red dress, shorter than Caitlyn would’ve worn, but long-sleeved and very pretty. “Happy birthday, girlfriend.” She stepped outside barefooted, hugged Caitlyn, and dragged her inside.
Pop rock blasted and smells of fried food filled the air.
“We picked up two movies.” Zoe smiled and bounced on her toes. Caitlyn hadn’t seen her so excited in a long time. “And I have all kinds of snacks, more than last year, and your favorite: shrimp rolls.” She took Caitlyn’s coat and hung it in the closet.
Caitlyn sat on a lower step of the staircase to take off her boots. “I wondered what those wonderful smells were.”
As Caitlyn unzipped a boot, Jarret plopped down beside her, his leg bumping hers. He threw her a sideways glance, grinning as if he knew he made her uncomfortable. “You don’t mind, do you?” He unbuckled his black boot and yanked it off.
Keefe stood by the shoe pile, kicking off his tennis shoes. “You have a cozy house,” he said to Zoe as she took his leather jacket.
“Come see the decorations.” Zoe led everyone down the hall to the kitchen.
Balloons and streamers decorated the front room, kitchen, and the sunken family room that came off the kitchen. A plate of shrimp rolls and paper plates lay on the kitchen table. Caitlyn had never seen the countertops more cluttered . . . a mixer, glasses, oven mitts, and cookie sheets.
“Oh, Zoe,” Caitlyn said, admiring her work. “You shouldn’t have.”
She smiled, handing her a tall glass of a pink, slushy drink. “Yes, I should’ve. You’re turning fifteen. That’s special.”
Caitlyn brought the glass to her mouth.
Before she could take a sip, Jarret snatched it from her. “That’s not ready yet.”
“Where are her parents?” Keefe said to Jarret. “I’d like to meet them.”
Zoe turned her head so fast her hair fanned out and landed over one shoulder. She and Jarret shared a look. Then she took Caitlyn’s hand. “Come see the basement. We even decorated down there.”
Their basement, much like the Wests’ recreation room, had a pool table and dartboard, but they also had two arcade games and a stocked bar. Zoe, or more like Jarret, had strung white Christmas lights along the top of the walls.
“This is so nice.” Caitlyn sat on a bar stool and spun it around, stopping to face Zoe. “What did your mom say about all this? She’s the one who called my mom, right?”
Zoe sat on the stool beside her, smiling from ear to ear. “She thought it was a great idea. You’re fifteen, in one day, why shouldn’t you have your own party? Do you think other kids our age are having birthday parties with their parents?”
“I don’t know. Some are. Dominic, Philomena, Peter and—”
Zoe smacked Caitlyn’s arm. She must’ve known Caitlyn knew at least a dozen kids who still had birthday parties with their families. Did a person ever grow out of it?
Caitlyn ran her toes along the smooth face of the bar. “I hope Keefe doesn’t mind when he finds out.” When her toes reached the edge of the bar, her foot pushed into some wires.
“That’s why we’re down here. Jarret can talk to him. And since you’re already here, hopefully, he won’t make you leave. Apparently, Jarret thinks he can get Keefe to do anything he wants.”
“I don’t know about that.” Caitlyn bristled inside, not wanting to think about Keefe as one easily manipulated by others. She jerked her foot free of the wires, and all the little white Christmas lights went out. “Oops.”
“What happened?” Zoe peered up at the lights.
Caitlyn slid her hand between the bar and wall, wanting to fix things. She must’ve accidentally unplugged something. She patted the wall, searching for an outlet. Her hand brushed a tangle of wires. Suddenly, lights jerked free of the crown molding along the nearest wall.
“Oh no!” Zoe jumped up, laughing.
Caitlyn ran for the wall. “I can fix this.” A string of lights hung to the floor and dangled from the dartboard. She grabbed them, bumping the dartboard.
“Oh, look out!” Zoe laughed harder.
The dartboard slipped to the side.
Caitlyn smacked both hands against it, keeping it from falling. More lights fell.
Zoe doubled over, her laughter so hard it was no longer audible.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Glancing from the lights on the floor to Zoe, almost on the floor, a wave of heat washed over Caitlyn. Then she saw the humor in it, too. If it didn’t bother Zoe, why should she let it bother her? “You’d think a girl would outgrow her awkwardness by the time she turned fifteen.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll send Jarret down here. He must not have put them up very well.” She dragged Caitlyn from the dartboard. It slid down the wall and landed on its face.
Caitlyn stared at it, hoping it didn’t break.
Zoe draped her arms over Caitlyn’s shoulders and pressed her forehead against Caitlyn’s. “Caitlyn, it’s okay. It’s your fifteenth birthday party, and we’re going to have fun. You’ll get a chance to talk with Keefe without people all around. You can cuddle on the couch watching a movie, eating snacks, cake, more snacks . . .”
They giggled.
“Okay, I’m just sorry for the mess. It looked so nice.”
“These decorations are here for you. If you want to tear them all down, tear them all down.” Zoe took Caitlyn’s hand and turned toward the stairs. Then she stopped. “Oh, there’s something else I wanted to ask you, a favor.”
“Sure.”
“Please don’t say anything about me being pregnant.”
Caitlyn knew she looked dumbfounded. “You already told Jarret. Oh . . . Keefe doesn’t know? You don’t want him to know?”
“Jarret doesn’t know.”
“What? But you told him the day we—”
“No, he thinks I had the abortion.”
“What?” Caitlyn’s stomach turned.
“He thinks that’s why I haven’t been talking to him all week.” She glanced at the top of the stairs. “I never told him that. He jumped to the conclusion, and I didn’t correct him. I figured it would be easier. He was really hounding me, but when he assumed I did it, he was real sweet, comforting. He’ll do anything for me right now.”
“But, Zoe, you’re going to start showing. Don’t you think he’ll be mad then?”
“I don’t care. Maybe I’ll break up with him. He shouldn’t push me to do something I’m not comfortable doing. Come on.”
As they stepped into the kitchen, Jarret handed each of them a slushy pink drink. He kissed Zoe on the lips and whispered something in her ear.
Keefe came to Caitlyn. “I need to talk to you.” A hint of displeasure showed in his eyes. He glanced at Jarret, who stood in the kitchen.
“Aw, not again,” Jarret said to Zoe. “I’m not fixing it. Someone else can fix it.”
Keefe, who had yet to hold Caitlyn’s hand, took her by the arm and led her into the front room. Someone had turned the lights off in the front room, hall, and formal dining room, so they stood in semi-darkness with only the dim light that traveled from the kitchen.
“Zoe’s parents aren’t here.” His soft tone and the shadows on his face kept her from knowing if he blamed her. “They’re out of town.”
“I know.”
“I think we should go.”
At this moment, Caitlyn realized distinctly that she had a choice. She really wanted to stay, but she agreed with Keefe. They should go. Suddenly, a million reasons for staying came to mind and a few tumbled out of her mouth. “It’s my birthday. I come over here every year on my birthday. My parents aren’t expecting me home until midnight.”
“But your mother thinks Zoe’s parents are here.”
“Does she? She never told me that. Is that what she told you?” This was true, although she figured Zoe’s mother had sort of lied to her mom about who would be here.
“Well, no, but . . .” Something in the foyer drew his attention.
“Hey, there you are.” Jarret carried two more slushy drinks. He made Caitlyn take one, trading it for her empty glass. The other he gave to Keefe. “Zoe’s mother talked to Caitlyn’s. You aren’t still worrying about that, are you?” A grin flickered on his lips. “Maybe Mrs. Summer trusts her daughter.”
Keefe’s jaw twitched.
“It’s not like we’re completely alone,” Caitlyn said. It felt strange being on the same side as Jarret.
Keefe nodded and his face softened into a look of resignation. He sipped his drink. “This is good. What’s in it?”
Jarret gave a satisfied grin that annoyed Caitlyn. “Why don’t you ask Zoe? She’s in the basement. Besides, she needs help with something.”
Keefe narrowed his eyes at his brother. “What does she need help with?”
“Your girlfriend here . . .” Jarret smiled at Caitlyn playfully. “. . . went and knocked down all my lights, all my hard work.”
Keefe laughed.
Caitlyn hid her face with one hand, glad that the attention was now on her clumsiness. “I did. It was an accident.”
“You don’t mind fixing them, do you?” Jarret said to Keefe. “I just can’t do it again.”
“Yeah, sure.” Keefe squeezed Jarret’s shoulder as he passed.
Standing in a dimly lit room with Jarret, and no one else, made Caitlyn want to crawl out of her skin. Eyes to the floor, she walked past him, planning to return to the kitchen.
He followed.
Once in the kitchen, she picked up a dirty cookie sheet and set it in the sink. She could clean until Keefe and Zoe came back up. It was a bad habit of hers, and Zoe wouldn’t approve, this being Caitlyn’s party and all.
“You guys afraid to be alone together?”
Jarret stood closer than she realized, making her jump. “What? No. Why would you say that?”
“He hasn’t even kissed you yet, has he?”
She gave him a none-of-your-business glare and kept cleaning, dumping onion rings onto a plate, peeling foil off the cookie sheet, putting the cookie sheet away . . .
“Maybe you’re both afraid of your feelings.”
Caitlyn tensed, her armor coming out. “Not everyone does things the way you do. You put the horse before the cart, or cart before the horse, or whatever.”
“What does that mean?”
“You know what it means. You’re too fast.”
Grinning, he went to the blender and returned with a slushy pink drink that he poured into her half-empty glass. “Why don’t you take your drink and your onion rings and go sit at the table?”
“I don’t want to sit at the table.” She wiped the counter with a damp washcloth.
“Where do you want to sit, on the countertop?”
“Maybe.” She dried the counter with a hand towel, then turned and pulled herself up onto it, giving him a smug grin and folding her arms.
He looked pleased and swaggered closer. “I bet your parents put the cart before the horse. That’s what happens when two people are into each other. They know what it’s like. Maybe that’s why they set all these silly rules for you.”
A comfortable fog had entered her brain and every muscle in her body felt smooth and relaxed. “My parents did not put the cart before the horse.”
She studied his face. It was amazing how two people, just because they were twins, could look so alike. Keefe and Jarret had the same high cheekbones, curvy mouth, dark brows, and heavy-lidded, long-lashed, Coca-Cola eyes.
The eyes . . . Now that she really looked into them, there was a difference. Perhaps it was a reflection of what lay behind them. Keefe had nothing but pure and kind intentions, while Jarret seemed bent on annoying her.
He handed her a drink then rested his hand on the counter, next to her, a leering look in his eyes. “So, tomorrow’s your birthday, huh?” While he scrutinized her entire face, his thumb touched her skirt at the thigh.
“Yes, it’s tomorrow.” She glanced at his hand but couldn’t tell if the touch was intentional, so she decided not to draw attention to it.
“Okay, and when were your parents married? Their anniversary? When is that?” With eyes glued to her face, his thumb moved an inch down her thigh.
Could that have been accidental? “Um . . .” She broke from his gaze so she could think. Where was Keefe? How long did it take to re-hang lights? He wouldn’t like that Jarret had her trapped on the kitchen countertop where she couldn’t get down without sliding into his arms . . . Okay, what was the question? “My parents . . . They got married in April, I think. Yeah, April.”
A slow grin spread across his face. “April, huh? How long they been married?”
She glanced at the ceiling, trying to remember. Oh yes, the cake. She helped make their last anniversary cake. Let’s see . . . which anniversary was it? “Fifteen years.”
His lips parted and a breathy chuckle came out. Then he nodded and rested his hand on her thigh.
“Stop it.” She shoved his hand and clutched his wrist so he couldn’t touch her again.
He twisted his arm until he had her wrist, but she didn’t release his. “So you’re turning fourteen tomorrow?” He smirked.
“No.” She wrestled her wrist from his grasp and rubbed it with her other hand, not that it hurt. His touch disgusted her. “You know how old I’ll be. I’ll be fifteen.”
As he snickered again, he pushed off from the counter. “Yeah. Told you. Takes nine months for a baby.” He stepped backwards. “You do the math. Your parents did it in February and married when they found out about you.” He jabbed his index finger at her and turned away.
She watched him swagger through the dining room and into the sunken family room. He couldn’t be right. April was their fifteenth anniversary. May, June, July . . .
She counted months on her fingers but only came up with seven. Any chance she was a premie? That had to be it. As strong as her parents felt about waiting for marriage, there was no way they—
“Hey.” Keefe came through the basement doorway. He glanced at Jarret, who now lay on the couch playing with the TV remote, then came to Caitlyn. “Why are you sitting on the countertop?”
“What? Oh. I don’t know.” She slid down, into his arms—that he withdrew as soon as her feet landed on the kitchen floor. She sighed and picked up her drink, wishing he wanted to kiss her.
He took the drink from her and set it on the counter. “I think these are spiked.”
“What?”
Keefe opened a cupboard, closed it, and opened another. “Can’t you feel it? I’m starting to feel sort of fuzzy.”
“Oh. I guess I am, too.” She eyed the drink suspiciously then stomped to the family room.
Zoe had also returned and now lay beside Jarret on the couch, with her arm draped across his chest. Jarret only seemed interested in flipping channels.
Caitlyn stopped, intentionally blocking Jarret’s view of the TV, and folded her arms. “Did you really put alcohol in our drinks?”
He craned his neck to one side. “You’re in my way.”
“Aren’t you going to answer me?”
“You figure it out.” He grinned, his eyes sparkling with his cocky attitude. “That’ll give you two things to figure out tonight.”
“What’s the other thing?” Zoe asked.
“Caitlyn, let’s just go.” Keefe came up beside her and offered his hand.
“What?” Jarret shoved Zoe aside and jumped up from the couch. “You can’t leave. This is your girlfriend’s birthday party. We’ve got cake, music, drinks, a movie. Or . . . you can go upstairs.”
Keefe’s face flinched. He drew back a fist.
Jarret glanced at Keefe’s fist and grinned, looking pleased that he’d managed to rile up his ever-calm twin. “What’re you gonna do with that?”
Keefe lowered his fist, took Caitlyn’s arm, and tugged her from the room.
Jarret followed. “Man, you’re a wimp. She knew Zoe’s parents weren’t gonna be here. She wants you to lighten up.”
“Don’t speak for me,” Caitlyn said.
Keefe led her down the hall, stopping at the pile of shoes by the door. He stooped for her boots and handed them to her. Then he faced Jarret, stepping toward him as he spoke. “Listen, brother. You put yourself in situations like this where you end up doing something stupid, something wrong.” He continued inching forward though Jarret stood his ground. “All my life, I’ve tried talking you out of bad decisions.” They stood face to face now, closer than two guys really ought to stand. “But I’ve also gone along with you . . . too many times. I’m done doing that. You’re on your own.”
Jarret’s bottom lip jutted out, his eyes sulky. “I’ve been on my own since you went to Italy. You went to Italy, and a stranger came back. You’re not my brother.” He turned away, to where Zoe waited in the hall, and the two of them walked arm in arm back to the living room.
Caitlyn picked up Keefe’s tennis shoes and stuffed her feet into the boots while Keefe yanked their coats from the closet. Eyes downcast and shoes in hand, he opened the door and motioned for her to go out first.
“I’m sorry about all this.” Caitlyn buttoned her coat as the door squeezed shut.
“It’s not your fault.” Keefe shoved his foot into a shoe, stumbled, and sat on the patio chair under the window to finish the job. “I have a different way of looking at things than I had in the past. He doesn’t understand that. He doesn’t respect that. I don’t blame him. He’s right about me coming back a different person. To him, I’m a stranger.” He stood and gazed through Caitlyn, perhaps recalling a memory or thinking of Jarret.
She wanted to take his hand and wished he wanted to kiss her, but she shoved her hands into her coat pockets instead.
As they walked, the cold air and sprinkle of snowflakes did her good. She took long, deep breaths and soon the cloud in her head dissipated. Guilt and joy crept into her mind, a confusing and uncomfortable combination. She knew where she went wrong. But she marveled to see the strength in Keefe. She hoped he wouldn’t change his opinion of her over this.
“Keefe . . .” It took a bit of courage for her to speak. “Jarret was right.”
Keefe didn’t look or reply. He pulled a stocking cap from his pocket and put it on.
“I knew her parents weren’t going to be there. I let Zoe talk me into this party. I’m sorry. Now we have to walk back in the snow, and I’ll have to tell my parents.” The last thought troubled her the most. She’d always been trustworthy. This was her first lie, and she hated to let them down.
He turned and in his eyes, she saw only compassion. He smiled. “We all make mistakes, me more than others.”
Caitlyn couldn’t imagine why he felt that way. She gathered it had something to do with what he had said to Jarret before they left, about going along with Jarret’s bad ideas.
They walked to the sound of their feet crunching in the snow. Snowflakes danced like ballerinas in the sky and gathered on their shoulders.
As they climbed the hill between Zoe’s and Caitlyn’s house, Keefe broke the silence. “Jarret was right about me, too. I did change in Italy. I changed when I witnessed that Eucharistic miracle.”
Her heart skipped a beat. He was going to tell her more about it, and she didn’t even have to ask.
“I tell you, Caitlyn, when I walked into that church, I had no idea what was about to happen to me. I was just looking for my father. But as soon as I laid eyes on that cloth, on the blood, I just . . . I fell to my knees. I knew in my heart it was Jesus. At that moment, I could think of nothing else. It was my Lord, Creator of the universe, Redeemer of the world, and He loved me. It overpowered me.”
Keefe dipped his head and wiped his nose with his gloved hand. “Feeling His amazing love made me want to . . . I don’t know, try to love Him back. I decided things in my life had to change. I made promises. That’s why I cut my hair. It’s a sign of my promises.” His expression showed sadness but also joy. “Sometimes, I still feel His love strong like that, especially at Mass. Not that I have to feel it to believe it, but . . .”
“I understand.” His words struck her deep within, making it difficult for her to speak.
“I’m so weak, Caitlyn. Part of me wants to be who Jarret wants me to be. I ache thinking how alone I’m making him feel.” He shook his head. “I have faith but my faith is so . . . weak. When I was in Italy, I drew strength from the churches, museums, all the religious artwork, even just walking down the streets of that ancient city. But now, I’m on my own.”
“You’re not on your own. The Lord is with you. You said so yourself.”
He nodded.
“I’m with you, too,” Caitlyn said. “We can help each other, like you helped me tonight.”