Chapter Eleven

Becca

Travis came into the kitchen, car keys in hand. “Mom, can I go to BG’s and watch a movie?”

“Is your homework finished?” I asked, looking up from correcting Lauren’s math. It was always a huge adjustment for the children to go back to school. What they didn’t know was that it was every bit as difficult for me. I had to correct homework, talk to teachers, make sure they got to and from school. The good news for me was now Travis had his driver’s license and we’d found an affordable car so he could drive himself to school, and eventually maybe he could even pick up Allia at the junior high. I wasn’t sure about that yet. Maybe after a few months of experience going solo. He wasn’t allowed to drive friends for at least six months, a law I was grateful for.

He tossed his keys into the air and caught them. “I don’t have any homework.”

“What about the history thing you told me about?”

“Not due until Tuesday.”

“That’s not very far away.” There’d been a time when he’d at least started his projects on the same day or the day after they’d been given. The last few months of tenth grade, however, he’d become a procrastinator, which often sent the whole house into convulsions as he frantically tried to beat a deadline. Dante and I had discussed letting him crash and burn, but his GPA destined him for a scholarship at BYU, and we were reluctant to withhold our help and end up footing the college bill ourselves. We hoped the stress of doing it last-minute would teach him something.

Apparently not.

“We have family night on Monday,” I said, “and we don’t do homework on Sunday, so when exactly are you going to do this paper?”

He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Tomorrow. She’s giving us time in school on Monday, and I can do it before family night.”

“I’ve heard that one before.”

“I got it covered, Mom. I promise I’ll get an A. What more do you want?”

“I’ll tell you what I don’t want. I don’t want Monday night to roll around and have you frantically searching for information because you didn’t find enough already. You can go tonight, but tomorrow I want to see a strong rough draft before you go anywhere.”

He gave me a pained looked. You’d think I’d told him to take Lauren with him to hang out with his friends. “I was going job-hunting.”

“Your job is to get that scholarship.”

“I will. I promise. Anyway, I’m only going to work a couple days a week. To get some extra cash.”

Lauren grinned. “You just want to meet girls.”

He gave her an irritated look, where once he would have laughed. “Stay out of this, midget.”

“Travis, we don’t say things like that.”

He sighed. “She’s such a pain.”

“She learned it from you. Now, have you cleaned your bathroom?”

His irritation increased, but he turned on his heel and stomped down the hall.

“I take that as a no,” Lauren said, sounding exactly like her older siblings.

“Guess so.” I looked down at the math problem. “That’s right. Now you need to color this picture for your English class, and then you’re finished.”

“What color should I use on her coat?”

“Whatever color you like.”

“I can’t decide.”

I didn’t understand it. When she was with children her age, she bossed them around, but in other situations, she couldn’t seem to make simple choices.

“Well, figure it out.” I started toward the stovetop where my potatoes awaited mashing.

Allia breezed into the kitchen. “Look, Mom, I finished.” She extended her hand with a plaid scrunchy.

“Wonderful. I’m sure Kyle will love it.”

“I also made her this flower with the scraps we had in the material box.” She held up a flower with burnt edges whose blue color matched the plaid. “That way she has a choice. You know, for if she’s at home or school or going somewhere nice. She can wear them together or separately. Only I’m not sure she uses this kind of thing, you know? She wears her hair all swooping down over her face. ”

“It’s perfect.” I put an arm around her, feeling proud of my daughter, despite my own reluctance about Rikki. “I’m glad you’re trying to befriend her. I think she’s really lost.”

“She’s not even baptized. At least she doesn’t remember if she is. Maybe she can take the missionary lessons.”

“Good idea. When her mother’s records arrive, wherever they are, we can ask your dad to check into it.”

Allia nodded. “Thanks, Mom.”

Lauren waved Allia over to the table. “Come look. What color should I make this guy’s coat? And what about the dog?”

“Black coat,” Allia said. “No, do it blue because black will make the picture too dark. Do the dog brown. Maybe mix a little gold in it. You have gold, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Lauren set down her orange crayon, grabbed a blue one, and started coloring.

No wonder Lauren couldn’t decide. She had all of us to do it for her. I wondered if she made decisions with her friends, or if she asked their opinion and then made them follow through. I’d have to keep an eye on that. I wanted all my children, especially my daughters, to make their own choices in life.

I finished the mashed potatoes and put the butter back in the fridge. Leaving Lauren at the table, Allia walked over and leaned against the counter by the sink. “You know, it was kind of weird,” she said in a voice too low for Lauren to overhear, “going over to Kyle’s on Monday and her showing me all my old clothes. Her mom didn’t tell her where she got them.”

I opened the oven to check on my meatloaf. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”

“No. But it was still weird.”

“Think how you’d feel if it was you.”

“Yeah, but what if she finds out now? Will she think I was lying to her?”

“I see what you mean. But no, hopefully, if she does find out, she’ll see you were trying to be sensitive and kind.”

She sighed. “I guess.”

“What about the man’s boots?” Lauren asked, her forehead scrunched in concentration. “What color should they be?”

The doorbell saved either of us from answering. “I’ll get it.” Allia shot from the kitchen, while I followed at a more sedate pace, hoping it wasn’t school kids selling something to raise money for this or that. I hated the schools using children as salesmen, and I opted out of it for my children, instead making them earn what they needed around the house or at my sister’s, who often had work available at the small advertising firm she ran with her husband. Since Dante was the bishop of the ward and I was in the Primary, every child in the neighborhood who sold anything always stopped by our house. At some point, we’d had to start saying no. I hated disappointing them, though, and there were a few families I’d sponsor, regardless, because I knew the children wouldn’t have any other way to participate in the activity.

I was surprised to see Rikki at the door with her two children in tow, James with his bright smile and Kyle with her sullen stare.

“Hey, Kyle,” Allia said, “look what I just finished. I was going to ask Mom if I could walk over and give them to you.” She held out the scrunchy and the flower. “The flower is for maybe a dressier place, like church. You could use them both. You know, hold back all your hair with the scrunchy and put this flower right here on the side, kinda toward the front.” Allia demonstrated. “Want to see in the mirror?”

“Sure, I guess.” Kyle’s sullen look had vanished but not because of Allia. Her eyes were focused beyond all of us.

I turned and saw Travis. “Can I go now?” He used an aggrieved tone that was worse than nails on a chalkboard. I’d never thought I’d be happy to see my precious boy leave home for school or a mission, but now I was beginning to understand the old saying that teens became annoying specifically so their mothers would be willing to let them go.

“You don’t want dinner first? It’s almost ready.”

He shook his head. “I’ll eat at BG’s.”

“His mother is going to be home?” Friday night was date night for a lot of couples. It was for Dante and me when there wasn’t an emergency in the ward.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Okay. You call me if you go anywhere else and come home if no adults are there. No driving other kids.”

“I got it, I got it.” He disappeared through the kitchen.

“Sorry about that.” I gave Rikki a smile.

Lauren appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Come on, James. You can help me with my homework. Do you know how to color good?”

The kids scattered, and still Rikki didn’t speak. She was dressed in jeans that were probably a size too big and a fitted pink shirt that showed she wasn’t all skin and bones. As usual, her blonde hair was everywhere. She looked fragile, as though a breath might topple her.

“Tough day?” I asked, feeling sympathy despite my worry about her intentions toward Dante. I didn’t invite her to sit down, however. I wanted her gone and the kids fed before he came home.

She gave a weak laugh. “I had no idea repetition could be so . . . so, well, draining. Look, I’m sorry to bother you, but I have a question, and I don’t know who else to ask. It’s about James.”

“Oh?” I asked, interested despite myself. James was adorable, and the fact that he couldn’t read was tragic.

“Kyle says you homeschool Cory, so I thought you might know something that would help.” She glanced behind me and lowered her voice. “James has always had trouble reading. I was working a lot when he started kindergarten, so I didn’t know there was even a problem until the end of first grade, but we’ve worked on his letters a lot in the past months, and it hasn’t seemed to do any good. Now he’s in resource and hating it. He feels stupid.”

They’d wanted to put Cory in resource, too, but he’d improved considerably over the summer, and I was confident I would have him at or above his grade level by Christmas. “Have you had him tested for dyslexia?” I asked. “Or something else?”

“No one ever recommended that, though one teacher wanted to give him drugs once, to keep him still.”

I shook my head. “James isn’t hyperactive. He was fine in Primary. Anyway, the school should have a way to test him, or I have a friend who works for a private school in town who’s good at finding the reasons for delayed reading. She tutors a lot of children.”

“I’m afraid I wouldn’t have money to pay her. I’ll have to depend on the school.”

Her despondency was as touching as James’s problem. “I can try a few things with him myself, if you want. Maybe it’s not anything serious. In fact, it’s probably not. I didn’t graduate from college, but that’s what I went to school for, elementary education. There are a few tricks I could try.”

“I’d be grateful for anything you could tell me.”

“Okay. But it’ll have to wait until Monday. Dante and I have plans tonight, and Saturdays are crazy around here. We try to get the house cleaned.”

Her eyes ran over the room. “Looks pretty good already, I’d say, but Monday’s perfect. Except I’m working until five-thirty, and I usually don’t get home until almost six.”

Dante had a similar schedule, except on most days I was lucky to get him home by six-thirty. Mondays he made an effort to get home earlier.

“Actually, Tuesday would be even better,” I told Rikki. “Say, Tuesdays and Thursdays. On Mondays I’m usually hurrying to get everything ready before family night. Could Kyle bring him over after school?”

“Sure. Yeah. Thanks. I really appreciate it.” She paused. “He adores Lauren, you know. They’ve been playing together at recess.”

I hadn’t known that, but Lauren had been full of all kinds of information about the new things happening to her at school, so she must have forgotten to tell me. “She likes him, too.” I wondered what time it was. Dante should be home soon, and I needed to get the kids fed so I could be ready to leave.

Lauren and James appeared at my side. “Mom, can James eat with us?” Lauren asked. “The meat smell is making us hungry.”

“I’m sorry,” Rikki said quickly. “He just ate. He can’t be hungry.”

“I didn’t finish my noodles, Mom, and we didn’t have meat.” James spoke without guile, simply stating a fact.

I suspected she’d fed the kids packaged noodles, which had a lot of fat and little in the way of nutrition. Not a good choice when James was already so thin. He needed protein during these growing years.

“We’ll make some when we get home,” she said. To me, she added, “Kyle made him something earlier. You know how kids are—food goes right through them.”

“Yeah,” I said.

She looked about ready to drop, not like someone able to go home and cook a meal. Pity sprang up inside me. What must her life be like, working all day and then coming home to try to take care of her children? All alone. Dante wasn’t around nearly as much as I’d wanted since he became bishop, but he was here occasionally to lend a hand.

This isn’t my problem, I thought, knowing I should simply agree and let them leave. I’d already promised to help James with reading.

Except James was my problem, at least in a gospel sense, and so was Rikki. My parents had raised me better than to think any other way. A ward meant family, and for better or worse, Rikki was in our ward. For now. I needed to get over my insecurities.

“There’s plenty of food,” I said. “Why don’t you come in for a bit? We can talk while the kids eat.”

Rikki looked like she was going to say no, but James and Lauren went whooping into the kitchen without waiting for her approval. “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

“It’s okay, really.” Suddenly it was okay. If I knew anything about my husband, it was that he wouldn’t be home for at least another half hour, and if he was, so what? Rikki was a member of the ward, nothing more. I was still worried about Kyle’s influence on Allia, but my daughter seemed to have her head on straight—for now.

“Allia,” I called. “Time for dinner.”

The girls came out, Kyle’s hair pulled back in the scrunchy, the large blue flower on one side by her eye. She looked adorable—or would have if it weren’t for that heavy coating of black around her eyes, and how did she get her eye shadow to go on such a heavy blue?

“Nice,” I said, hoping they didn’t notice how I choked on the word. “I like seeing your face under your hair.” Now if only I could see her eyes.

Kyle actually laughed. “It smells really good in here.”

“Thanks. I’m afraid it’s meatloaf. Do you like it?”

“I like just about everything.”

“Mom puts a really good sauce on it,” Allia said. “Come on, let’s get the plates.”

I went to the top of the basement stairs and yelled, “Cory, dinner!” He didn’t delay a moment. Meatloaf was his favorite dish.

Kyle and James started eating the minute their plates were before them—until Lauren reminded them about the prayer. “Oh, yeah,” James said. Rikki was staring out the window. I doubted she even saw the plate I put in front of her.

Allia’s prayer seemed to shake her from her reverie. “Oh, thank you. This is beginning to be a habit. Us eating here, I mean.”

“Cool. You could eat here every day,” Lauren said. “Hurry, James. Allia’s going to babysit me and Cory, and that means you can’t stay. Mom doesn’t allow friends when she’s not home. So we have to go outside and play fast.”

“Sorry, another day, Lauren.” I poured them both more milk.

She pouted. “At least I get to watch a video tonight.”

In five minutes everyone was finished, even Rikki. Amazing how long it took to make a meal in comparison to how long my family took to devour it.

“Thanks,” Rikki said. “One of these days you’ll have to come over, and I’ll make you guys a dinner. I make pretty mean spareribs.”

She looked significantly recovered, and I was grateful I’d followed my intuition. “Sure, why not?” I’d make sure it was on a night Dante had church business. Guess I still wasn’t above feeling jealous. Crazy. I’d never been jealous of anyone in my entire life until now.

“Oh,” Rikki said, as I walked her to the door, “I saw this and thought you might be interested.” She pulled an ad ripped from a magazine for a garden show in Saint George. “It’s like a home show, only for gardens. Not too far from here, really, and the gardens should be really nice this time of year, after having all summer to grow. It’s on for a few weeks, I think.”

I found I couldn’t speak past the lump in my throat. She was the only one I’d ever told about my gardening dream. Silly, really, yet she’d remembered. “Thanks.” I made my voice purposefully light. “I’ll look into it.”

Her eyes met mine for a long moment, and I felt exposed, as if she could see into my soul. I didn’t think I was fooling her at all. I think she knew how much it would mean for me to see the show, and how touched I was that someone, anyone, had remembered.

Rikki grinned. “If Dante can’t go with you, maybe we should take the kids and go. You know, for a day or two.”

Right. A day or two with my husband’s former fiancée. “Maybe,” I said.

“Well, thanks again. I’ll make sure Kyle brings James after school on Tuesday.”

I nodded. “See you at church.”

Of course Dante had to arrive as they were leaving the porch. He waved and left his car on the driveway instead of pulling into the garage. “Hi, guys,” he said, offering James his hand. “How’s it going?”

“Good!” James pumped Dante’s hand with enthusiasm.

“Fine.” Rikki seemed taller and more vivacious now, though I didn’t know if it was because of my dinner or because she now had a male audience.

Kyle didn’t stop to talk but made a beeline to her mom’s truck. I wished Rikki would follow her example.

I’d trailed Rikki down the sidewalk, and Dante smiled at me. “You two have a good visit?” Could he sound any more like a bishop? One thing was sure: he didn’t sound like Dante at all.

Rikki folded her hands across her stomach. “Actually, I came here to ask Becca for some help with school for James. And we’ve been talking about visiting a garden show in Saint George. It’s supposed to be really good.” She turned and smiled at me as though we were best friends. “I meant it when I said I’d go with you if Dante can’t. It’d be fun.” She looked pointedly at Dante. “We could let our hair down.” With a little wave, she grabbed James’s hand and started for her truck. “See you later.”

Dante watched her go. “Let your hair down?” He shook his head. “Knowing Rikki, that doesn’t sound at all good.”

“Next time, be home earlier,” I said. “Or I might just take her up on that.”

Dante drew me into his arms and kissed me. I could smell a hint of his aftershave, the detergent I used to launder his shirts, and the other bit that was all him. For a moment, I forgot all about Rikki and the garden show.

“Mom.” Allia stood on the front door, a phone in her hand. “Cydnee just called me, and she says she saw Travis at the 7-Eleven with a whole bunch of boys. He was driving. I thought he couldn’t drive friends yet.”

I looked at Dante, whose face had gone stiff like my own. So much for trusting our son.

“I’m going to kill him,” Dante growled.