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Caitlyn
The Forest Gateway B & B brimmed with life, loud talking, laughter, and the smell of Italian food. Caitlyn’s parents and sisters shared one of the three booths in the big dining room. Peter’s parents, his aunt, and guests sat around the long table in the middle of the room. More guests filled the other two booths.
Peter, Zoe, and Caitlyn ate dinner in the living room, balancing their plates on their laps. Toby sat on the floor, playing a game on the TV and whining every time Caitlyn’s two-year-old brother David reached for the remote. The baby slept soundly on a blanket on the floor, between the couch and recliner. Zoe had barely touched her dinner, had barely spoken a word, and appeared absorbed in Toby’s game—an old version of Super Mario.
A clock hung above the TV. Jarret would arrive in twenty-seven minutes, if he were punctual.
Hunched over her second plate of spaghetti and lasagna, Caitlyn twisted noodles onto her fork. Anxiety made her hungry.
Her gaze slid to the purse beside her on the couch. Zoe’s purse. Not the little black one she usually carried. The bigger denim one. The one big enough to hide a pregnancy test kit among its contents. If only Zoe would’ve taken the test as soon as she got here, but she insisted she needed to eat first.
Minutes passed. Guests finished their dinners and returned to their rooms. Zoe sat holding her fork but not eating.
Caitlyn stuffed the last bite of lasagna into her mouth, set the plate on the coffee table, and shoved the purse toward Zoe. “If you’re not hungry, why don’t you go to the bathroom?”
Peter’s head turned. “What’re you, her mom?” he said with his mouth full.
“Yeah, Caitlyn,” Zoe said. “Are you my mom? I’ll go when I need to go.” She flashed a snotty smile and turned away, flipping her hair.
Caitlyn huffed and sunk back in the couch. “Come on, Zoe. Now’s a good time. Let’s not wait any longer. Besides . . .” She hadn’t told her Jarret was coming over, and they must not have talked all day, because she didn’t seem to know. Fearing it would affect her decision to take the test, Caitlyn didn’t want to tell her yet.
Caitlyn stood and slung Zoe’s purse strap over her shoulder. “Well, then I’m going to the bathroom.”
When Caitlyn stepped past Zoe, Zoe groaned. “Oh, all right.”
“It takes two of you to go to the bathroom?” Peter said.
“Will you watch the baby?” Caitlyn headed for the steps with Zoe at her heels.
Peter shouted, “No,” but she knew he would.
In an earlier discussion, Caitlyn and Zoe decided to use the upstairs bathroom, Peter’s bathroom, in case someone needed the one downstairs. Peter’s bedroom was the only other room upstairs in the converted attic, so they should have complete privacy.
A few minutes later, they stood motionless in Peter’s bathroom, huddling over the test stick and peering through the result window.
“I see two stripes,” Caitlyn said.
Zoe’s eyebrows drew together. “Are you sure?”
“What do you see?” No matter how you looked at it, two pink stripes ran across the result window.
Zoe sighed and staggered back, bumping the towel rack. “I’m pregnant.” She slid to the floor, next to a pile of damp towels.
Caitlyn sat beside her. “It’s not the end of the world. It’ll be okay.”
She shook her head, looking like Caitlyn had lost her mind.
A thought occurred to Caitlyn. She could take care of the baby for Zoe! Mom might not like the idea, and Zoe wouldn’t want to hear it now. Besides, it was too early for that kind of planning. First on the “to do” list: tell Jarret.
“Do you think the results could be wrong?” Zoe crawled to the garbage can and dug the box back out.
“I don’t know. I wouldn’t think so. It said something about showing you’re not pregnant when you really are. I don’t think it goes the other way around.”
Kneeling by the garbage can, Zoe spread out the crinkly instructions and stared at them through desperate eyes.
Caitlyn wished she had words that would comfort her. “I guess you could get another—”
The doorbell rang.
Caitlyn’s mouth fell open. She still hadn’t mentioned that Jarret was coming over. Zoe should know so she could prepare herself. She grabbed Zoe’s arm. “I have to tell you something.”
Still reading the instructions, Zoe wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Huh?”
“Have you talked to Jarret today?”
Zoe shook her head. “He was car shopping.”
“Um, well, Zoe, I think Jarret’s here.”
Lifting her gaze from the instructions, she gave Caitlyn a blank look. Then her forehead wrinkled and her eyes got big. “What?”
“I saw the Wests at church today and I . . .” How in the world could she word it?
“You what?”
“I wanted to know what happened to Keefe in Italy.” Oh my, she had no idea how to tell her without revealing what a lousy, selfish friend she was.
Zoe shook her head, still looking troubled but also confused. “I thought you said Jarret’s here.”
Footfalls sounded on the stairs, many footfalls, as if a gang ascended them. Then voices. Someone pounded on the door.
Zoe and Caitlyn gasped.
“Hey, are you still in there?” Peter shouted. “The West boys are here. Every. Last. One of them. And two of them are up here with me.”
“I’ll be out in a minute.” Caitlyn meant to give the impression she was alone so no one would wonder why they were both in the bathroom.
“Let’s get you fixed up.” She smoothed Zoe’s hair then went to the vanity to find a clean washcloth.
Zoe stood. “Jarret’s here?”
Caitlyn held a washcloth under cold water, rung it out, and handed it to Zoe. “Try to compose yourself, or he’ll wonder what’s wrong. You don’t have to talk about it now. Wait until you’re ready. Okay?”
She nodded and turned to the mirror. Within seconds, she had composed herself, model perfect.
Caitlyn cracked open the bathroom door. Voices came from Peter’s room. “Ready?” She looked at Zoe.
Zoe nodded.
They crossed the landing to Peter’s half-open bedroom door. The door wouldn’t open further, so they squeezed into his room.
Clothes lay in piles by the bed, the closet, and behind the door. Boxes of electronic projects lined one wall. Peter sat at his desk, the cleanest thing in the room, showing Roland something. Jarret sat on Peter’s messy bed.
“Hey.” Jarret stood when he saw Zoe.
“. . . so next time I need to pick a lock, I’ll be able to,” Peter said to Roland then looked at them. “You girls done in the bathroom, or did you need more help in there?” He grinned.
Roland turned and gave Caitlyn a shy smile, making her heart skip a beat. He’d changed out of his Sunday best and now wore a straight black jacket over a black shirt, the hem of a red shirt showing from underneath.
“Hi,” Caitlyn said to Roland. “I didn’t know everyone was coming over.”
“Yeah, Peter’s father invited us.”
Jarret came up to Zoe and rubbed her arm. “Something wrong?” he whispered.
“Mr. West and Keefe are downstairs,” Peter said in his typically loud voice. “Your dad’s getting the scoop on their trip to Italy.”
“He is?” Caitlyn was missing it! Keefe was probably telling them all about the miracle. She had to get down there.
Zoe folded her arms and moved closer, bumping Caitlyn.
“What’s the matter?” Jarret said to her, no longer whispering, sounding annoyed.
“You know our Halloween party is going to be soon.” Caitlyn looked directly at Jarret, but his eyes were fixed on Zoe. “I have some volunteers. Some people offered to help with things.”
“Why the heck do you want to throw a big costume party anyway?” Peter looked from Roland to Caitlyn. “Sounds like a lot of work. And what if it rains?” He spoke lower, to Roland. “Do you have a costume?”
Roland nodded.
“What is it?” Peter said. “No, let me guess. You’re going to be a vampire.”
“Let’s get a notebook for planning and go downstairs.” Caitlyn pushed past Peter to get to his desk.
“Why does everything have to be a secret with you?” Peter said to Roland. Then he shouted at Caitlyn, “Stay outta my desk.”
Caitlyn found a notebook in the second drawer and bolted for the door.
Jarret stood in her way, arms folded, peering at Zoe. Eyes downcast, Zoe shook her head.
Caitlyn stepped around Jarret. “Come on, Zoe, guys, let’s go downstairs.” She figured Zoe would want to be around more people. But, more selfishly, she just couldn’t miss the details about the miracle! Not really knowing Keefe, she would never find the courage to ask him herself.
Caitlyn’s sisters and brothers romped around the living room while Toby played a game on the TV. The bed-and-breakfast guests had left the dining room, leaving only her parents, the Brandts, Mr. West, and Keefe. They sat at the long table, so Caitlyn slid into a booth.
Mr. West, seated at the end of the table, said something about paintings.
Peter and Roland strolled side by side into the dining room. Peter slid into the booth, sitting across from Caitlyn, but Roland approached Keefe.
After Roland said something to Keefe, Keefe shook his head. “He’s not talking to me,” Keefe said. “It wouldn’t do any good.”
Looking sulky, Roland came to the booth. His gaze swiveled from Peter to Caitlyn, then back to Peter, but then he slid in next to Peter.
“Where’s Zoe?” Caitlyn said.
“Didn’t you hear them?” Peter grinned. “As soon as we left my room, their conversation got heated.”
“What about?” She hoped they didn’t have an answer to her question. She hoped Jarret and Zoe weren’t talking about Zoe’s situation. Zoe should wait until she’s had time to think it over.
Peter shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, I’m nosy, but . . .” He smiled at Roland. “Roland wouldn’t let me stand there and listen. He said it’s none of our business.”
Roland stared at his father, who was describing a basilica in Florence.
“Wow,” Caitlyn’s dad said, chuckling, “that makes our church sound like a mere chapel. So, uh, tell us Keefe . . .”
Caitlyn’s ears perked.
“What was your favorite part of Italy?”
Keefe rubbed his hand over his hair. Maybe the short haircut still felt odd since he’d worn his hair long all his life. “My favorite part . . .”
Someone stomped down the stairs, and all heads turned. Jarret stormed past the living room and to the front door. As he grabbed a leather jacket from a wall hook, his gaze shot to his father. “I want my car. I’m not waiting any longer.”
Mr. West made no reply.
Jarret didn’t wait for one. He yanked open the door. Rain poured outside, but he pushed open the screen door and stormed out. The screen door slammed behind him. He left the front door wide open.
Caitlyn’s dad chuckled. “Well, he’s in a hurry. Must have a hot date, huh? Or off to get that car.” Dad wouldn’t have known Jarret’s date was upstairs and probably crying her eyes out. Dad just always said silly things. Maybe he thought it lightened a tense moment.
Keefe scraped his chair out and stood.
Before he could take a step, Mr. West latched onto his forearm. “Let him go,” Mr. West said in a low voice.
“But it’s raining. Can I take your car, drive him home and come back?”
Mr. West shook his head. “Let him sort this out on his own.”
They stared at each other, Keefe standing at his chair, Mr. West clutching his arm. No one spoke until Mrs. Brandt said something about drinks and got up. Mom went to help.
A long moment later, Keefe sat down and scooted his chair in. He might’ve been willing to answer the question Dad had asked about his favorite part of Italy, but to her dismay, Caitlyn wouldn’t be around to hear it. Zoe hadn’t come downstairs yet, so Caitlyn excused herself and climbed the stairs.
Zoe sat on the windowsill in Peter’s bedroom, staring through raindrops on the window to the darkness outside. She remained motionless as Caitlyn crossed the room to her.
Caitlyn wrapped her arms around Zoe’s shoulders, hugging her from behind. “You told him?”
“You know me. I can’t hide the way I feel.” She faced Caitlyn. “He knew something was wrong. I told him we’d talk later but . . .” She dropped her gaze. “. . . that made him angry.” She paced across the room, stepping over a toolbox and a book, and turned around. “Didn’t you hear him?”
Caitlyn shook her head. “I didn’t hear anything from downstairs.”
Zoe stopped by Peter’s bed, grabbed a crumpled sheet and pulled it straight, then she dropped it and sat on the mess. “He calmed down after a short rant and said he cares about me. That’s why he needed me to tell him. So I told him.”
Caitlyn sat beside her. “What’d he say?”
“He wouldn’t believe it at first.”
“He believes you now, doesn’t he?”
Zoe nodded. “I told him I’d take another pregnancy test to be sure. He’s not happy about it.” She pressed her lips together as if to keep from saying more. She probably needed time to think.
“Is he downstairs?” Zoe said.
Caitlyn shook her head. “He left.”
“It’s raining.” She glanced at the window. “And he rode with his father.”
Caitlyn shrugged. “Maybe he’s sitting in the car.”
Zoe got up, combed her fingers through her hair, and walked to the bedroom door. “I don’t care. Let’s go plan the party.”
As they reached the foot of the stairs, the Brandts and Caitlyn’s parents burst into laughter. Mr. West sat with his back to Caitlyn, so she couldn’t tell if he laughed, too. Peter and Roland sat across from each other in the booth, Peter leaning forward and saying something that became clear as Caitlyn neared.
“. . . never expected to see him darken the doors of our church.”
“Papa made him go,” Roland said. “There was a big fight in our house this morning, or we wouldv’e gone to an earlier Mass.” His eyes shifted to Caitlyn and Zoe, and he shut his mouth.
Zoe slid into the booth next to Peter, leaving the seat next to Roland the obvious choice for Caitlyn.
Caitlyn struggled to suppress a smile.
Roland scooted over then leaned close. The faintest scent of spicy cologne—maybe just deodorant—the warmth of his body, his shoulder bumping hers . . .
A bolt of electricity passed through Caitlyn.
“Everything okay?” he whispered.
Unable to speak due to the influx of emotion, she nodded.
Peter’s aunt said something about ice cream floats and, in the next minute, appeared at their booth and handed one to each of them.
Regaining her voice, Caitlyn thanked her and turned to Peter. “So, what was everyone talking about while we were gone?”
“Italy.” Peter grabbed his spoon and the tall frosty glass. “They were telling us about the ancient city of old buildings and basilicas and all.”
Caitlyn sighed, dipping her spoon into the blob of ice cream in her glass. Keefe had probably told his miracle story, and she’d missed it. Maybe Peter knew, now. Maybe he’d tell her. She watched him eat for a second then said, “Why don’t you share some of it with us? What was the most interesting thing they talked about?”
“They took pictures. Mr. West said he’d invite us over for a slideshow.” He turned his attention to his float, shoveling spoonsful of ice cream into his mouth. Then his gaze snapped to Caitlyn again. “Oh.” He gave a sly grin. “Keefe told us why he got the haircut.”
Was it related to the miracle? She leaned forward. “He did? Why? Why’d he get the haircut?”
Peter shrugged, tossed his spoon and straw aside, and brought his glass to his mouth to finish off the float. Then he banged the glass down and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Eh, it sounded kind of personal. Maybe you oughta ask him yourself.”
Caitlyn looked at Roland, hoping he would tell her now that Keefe had made it public.
“I’m sure he’d tell you if you asked,” Roland said.
She slumped back in the seat. Of course. She’d missed the whole conversation. Now she’d never know. She didn’t know Keefe. They’d never even been introduced. How could she ask something so personal? Why did she feel so compelled to know? It wasn’t her business anyway. She should just let it go.
With a sigh, she sat up, dragged her glass closer, and resumed sipping the float.
Someone knocked on the front door, and Peter’s dad told Peter to answer it.
“Me? Why me?” Peter said as he trudged to the door. He opened it to a drenched and sour-faced Jarret.
Jarret stepped inside, bumping shoulders with Peter as he passed.
“What’d you do that for?” Peter glared.
Jarret stopped by the coat hooks and stared at Zoe, water dripping off his curls and into his frowning face.
Zoe stared back. Then she slid out of the booth and ran to him. She hugged her drenched boyfriend for a good long time, probably soaking up his wetness. Then she helped him remove his jacket and led him to the couch.
Caitlyn didn’t hear him apologize, but he looked sorry enough.
Mr. West, who sat with his back to the living room, twisted around and gazed in their direction. Throughout the evening, he continued twisting around and glancing at them. The conversation at the table went from Mr. Brandt’s work as a forest ranger to Mr. West’s future assignment in Mississippi. Peter, Roland, and Caitlyn got down to the party planning business. The day would come before they knew it.