Lifelines
These days, dusk catches me unaware. At the end of the day when I sink into my chair to read the evening paper, the light goes quickly. I hear banging and scraping in the boys’ bedroom, and then silence. Roger comes through the door, wiping sweat off his forehead with the end of his tee shirt.
“Well, that’s done. The car is all packed. I’m going to take a shower. The boys have gone to get a pizza.”
Tomorrow, David is moving into his dorm room at Stanford. He’s been with us for seven months, but we’ve barely gotten to know him. Roger strips off his tee shirt and jeans and sits down on the end of the bed in his boxers. He runs a weathered hand through his hair, massaging his scalp.
“Dee, I feel like I’ve failed my son.”
“How? You helped him get into Stanford. How have you failed him?”
“I’ve spent so little time with him and now he’s leaving.”
“You’ve spent a lot of time with David. You practically live in the garage with him. And he’s not leaving. He’s just a few miles away. He’ll be here lots of weekends, I’ll bet.”
Roger continues to worry his scalp with hard rubbing. He draws his hand down across his chin, feeling a day’s growth.
“I forgot to shave this morning.” He reaches over and takes my hand. “David and I never really talked. Oh, we talked about this thing he’s trying to invent, but not about anything personal.”
He drops my hand and stands up from the bed, wincing at a pain he gets in his knee sometimes. He walks around the room like he’s trying to work something out, soreness in a muscle or a mystery in his mind. I stay quiet.
“I don’t think I know any more about him or what he’s interested in than I did before he got here. The difference is, now I can’t blame Dara for that, I only have myself to blame. I didn’t try hard enough to make a connection with him.”
I think about the stretches of time Roger spends on the golf course, the evenings he and Andy enjoy each other’s company at The Echo, and the way he stays busy with home improvement projects, but I say nothing. I fold the paper and set it aside. Then I stand up and go wrap my arms around my well-meaning husband who did not get the opportunity to raise his child.
“Give it time.” I lay my cheek on his bare chest. He hugs me and we release each other. “You know, David came to us at time in his life when boys close up to their parents. You still think of him as a boy you should be tossing a ball with. He’s a young man who is focused on making his own way in life.”
Roger smiles at me, like a man who expected censure and got a reprieve. “How did you get so smart?”
“Trial and error. Mostly error. Go take your shower.”
Water blasts from the showerhead, and Roger yells above the noise. “Hey, Dee, can you guess what David’s decided to major in?”
“Finance?” Of course this would please Roger.
“Electronic Engineering.”
R
Pizza boxes pile up on the counter. We sit around the table, pulling salty meat off the remaining few crusts and popping the last of the olives into our mouths. We’re like a flock of birds that keep picking at crumbs long after we’ve had our fill. Sophie is making an effort to be part of the celebration, even as she deflects attention away from herself. She looks decidedly plain these days, if that’s possible. I’m alarmed to think that our environment is so toxic for her. She is not the brave girl who emerged from a taxicab last spring carrying a cosmetic case full of hopes and dreams.
“Sophie?” What do I say now? I don’t want to put her on spot.
She squares her shoulders as if she’s been preparing for this moment.
Tread lightly. “Would you like to help me clear the table?” I shoo the rest of the family into the living room with the back of my hand.
We stand at the sink, shoulder to shoulder, washing and drying.
“Have you signed up for any fall classes?”
“No, I want to be here to help Valerie with the baby.”
“The baby isn’t due until November. There’s really not much for you to do until then.”
“I can find ways to make myself useful. Anyway, I can’t afford the tuition, but that’s okay. I’ve been thinking I will take a typing course. That seems like a good skill to have, don’t you think?” She is pulling for approval. I tilt my head from side to side, disallowing a blessing but offering no objections. Sophie barrels on. “I can probably get a manual and teach myself at home.”
“You could, Sophie, but if you want to make yourself really useful, I know someone who could use your help.”
“Who?”
“Laura. She’s starting up her girls’ leadership group again, and I know she would welcome your assistance.”
Sophie frowns. “It’s a Bible study group, isn’t it?”
“It’s that too, but the emphasis is on the unique gifts God has given women to lead their families and communities in the way of peace.” As those words tumble out of my mouth, I wonder how well I’m doing in this arena. Have I been a peacekeeper in my family? In my neighborhood?
“I’ve never thought of myself as a leader of anything. I’m the ballet corps, not the principal dancer.”
I see a spark of the old Sophie.
“True enough. But, isn’t leadership required when you are pioneering a new dance movement?” The more I talk, the clearer I see the transition Sophie needs to make, from an obedient dance student who exercises her muscles on cue to a young woman capable of employing her mind and spirit with conviction and courage. Where Laura is in life right now, she’s the perfect person to help Sophie set her dancing feet on a new stage.
We’ve finished the dishes. I take my last opportunity to give Sophie a gentle shove.
“It takes courage to move in a new direction, Sophie. You have courage; you just need to draw from it. Sure, take a typing class, but challenge yourself in other ways that will free you. Let our cousin Danny teach you how to drive the stick shift so you won’t have to depend on anyone else to take you where you want to go. And if you are afraid of being out by yourself, let Roger teach you how to shoot a gun.”
“What?” Sophie gasps with shock and dissolves into nervous laughter.
“I’m not suggesting that you shoot anyone who threatens you. Just knowing that you could shoot a gun if you had to can give a girl courage.”
New awareness blooms in her eyes. “You have a gun?”
“We feel no need to keep one in this house. Roger has a gun that he keeps locked...” Careful, “he keeps it locked in a case, in a safe place that’s not in the house.”