A Sister's Promise (Promises) (6 page)

CHAPTER SEVEN

Later that afternoon Kate marched into her house, anger bubbling inside her. She tossed her bag onto the living room couch and turned down the volume on the Dave Matthews Band. Her bad mood had escalated when a detour took her past a horse farm, reminding her of when she was fourteen and had longed for a horse.

Instead of sending Kate to horseback riding camp like her friends’ moms, Aunt Suzy arranged for her to spend the summer cleaning stables. Aunt Suzy expected her to walk the three miles to the farm, but sometimes Kate borrowed her cousin Jonathan’s bike and Walkman to make the trip more tolerable. He didn’t even notice since Aunt Suzy chauffeured him to tennis lessons and baseball games in her air-conditioned VW bug. Family or not, Kate hated them both. Now Kate stood in front of Mitch. “Can you believe Aunt Suzy hasn’t so much as called Joely to see how she’s doing?”

Mitch looked up from tinkering with a broken watch and smiled at her. He was experienced enough with Kate’s Aunt Suzy rants to offer support mostly with his sympathetic brown eyes.

“My sister is going through chemo! She has an incurable disease! You would think that the woman who raised her would rush to her side.”

“There’s no sense in getting all worked up about it, Honey.”

Kate reached for the phone. “That’s it. I am going to give her a piece of my mind.”

“Don’t be crazy. You know you’ll never tell her how you feel.”

“Yes I will. I’m ready to finally lay it on the line.”

Kate’s throat tightened as she considered standing up to the woman who begrudgingly provided her shelter. From the outside Aunt Suzy looked like such a wonderful person, taking on her sister’s two kids. Everyone thought she was a saint, but Kate and Joely knew the truth. Aunt Suzy was such a good actress, though; sometimes Kate thought if it weren’t for Joely, she would start to doubt her own recollections. Although her aunt didn’t technically abuse them or anything, she managed to make them feel unwelcome. She would take them to Jonathan’s guitar lessons, but never let them participate. Whenever chocolate-chip cookies went missing from the cookie jar, she spanked them, even though they explained that Jonathan had eaten them. In Aunt Suzy’s eyes, Jonathan could do no wrong while Kate and Joely caused her marriage to crumble.

Kate looked up the number in her address book.
Ring.
Boy, was she mad.
Ring.
She had a lot she wanted to say to her.
Ring.

“Hello?”

Kate hung up. She cursed and threw down the phone. Then it rang. She looked at the caller I.D. Her eyes widened. “She *69ed me.”

“Are you going to answer it?” Mitch asked.

She took a few deep breaths. Then she picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Did you just call and hang-up?” Aunt Suzy scolded.

“No. I mean, we must have gotten cut-off,” Kate explained, sounding apologetic.

“Oh, well. . . Kate, how
are
you?” Aunt Suzy asked, with the sticky sweetness of corn syrup. “We haven’t talked in so long.”

Yes we have, Kate thought. I just called you last week and told you your niece is sick. Don’t you remember? “I’m fine. I wanted to update you on how Joely’s doing.” After Aunt Suzy faked appropriate concern for a while, Kate hung up. Fortunately, Mitch didn’t say anything about her wimping-out. He wasn’t much of one for confrontation, either. That was part of what made their marriage work.

# # #

Unable to sleep that night, Kate lay in bed listening to the steady
chirp-chirp
of crickets, thinking about the day her childhood ended. On that of all days, she was mad at her sister because Joely had been playing with Kate’s Fashion Plates kit without asking. (Even though Kate would’ve said no if she
had
asked.) Just before Dad walked them over to Mrs. Pilo’s, Kate had pulled the box out of her closet and noticed her favorite plaid skirt pattern and some of the colored pencils were missing. Joely was always the culprit when one of Kate’s favorite toys disappeared or broke and she was just about to accuse her sister when their dad told them it was time to go.

Mrs. Pilo, an elderly neighbor, often looked after Kate and Joely when their dad needed to run errands and their mom needed to rest. Kate remembered her house always smelled sweet as if she had just baked a lemon meringue pie.

That day Mrs. Pilo taught Kate how to play dominoes at an oak table marred with scratches and nicks. Joely sat next to them painting a butterfly with watercolors. It was one of those blissful, sunny afternoons. Then the doorbell rang.

Mrs. Pilo went to open it. Kate heard someone mumble. Mrs. Pilo gasped. Kate peered around the corner to see a man in a blue-gray police uniform in the foyer. Mrs. Pilo’s hand covered her mouth and her whole arm trembled. A few minutes passed before she showed the officer into the kitchen. That was when he told Kate and Joely about the car accident. Their dad was on his way home from the grocery store when a semi barreled through a red light and smashed his car.

Kate and Joely both cried that day, but for different reasons. At the age of ten, Kate was just about to begin the tumultuous tug-of-war between little girl and independent adolescent. Even so, she could not imagine a life that did not include the man who trimmed the crusts off her peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and let her help steer while he cut the grass with his John Deere lawn tractor.

As the older sister, she usually put on a tough face, hiding her emotions, running to her bedroom and closing the door whenever she needed to break down. For Joely, seeing Kate cry was like pouring alcohol on a fire. She wailed and sobbed for so long she hyperventilated. In that moment, in Mrs. Pilo’s lemon-scented kitchen, Joely transformed from Kate’s competition to her confidante, from her rival to her responsibility.

Kate remembered praying to God, begging Him, to bring her dad back. If He could resurrect Jesus, then she knew He had the power to do this, too. After all, Mrs. Pilo had told her that God always answered your prayers. But as far as Kate was concerned, He hadn’t answered hers. Twice. And her once boundless faith tarnished.

That fatal car crash meant leaving the craftsman-style bungalow the sisters had always called home. Their mom went into a nursing facility while Kate and Joely moved into a plain white ranch, where they shared a room. Since Aunt Suzy and Uncle Burt lived in the same town as Kate’s parents, they didn’t have to switch schools and make all new friends, but the adjustment was still painful. Six months after the accident, their mother died. Kids at school didn’t know what to say and a few just avoided them altogether, as if tragedy were contagious.

On the weekends Aunt Suzy and Uncle Burt insisted Kate and Joely stay in their room until at least ten a.m., which was fine because Kate didn’t even want to get out of bed. Sometimes she would just lay there, staring at the dimpled ceiling, unwilling to face the void in her life. Joely would beckon her to play and Kate insisted that she didn’t want to. When Kate finally gave in to her sister’s pleas, they both slowly began to heal.

Although Kate had always valued her privacy, throughout the years, she discovered that she liked whispering secrets to her sister in the darkness of night. Between their traumatic losses and the shared quarters, they became close in a way Kate never would’ve foreseen.

Close enough to have a baby for her? Kate wasn’t sure.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Kate hadn’t been to Nancy’s house since the baby shower. As she drove through the development, she worried she wouldn’t remember which two-story colonial belonged to her. Then Kate saw the black, red, and gold banner flipping haphazardly on the flagpole just below the stars and stripes. Obviously the home of a former German teacher. Even though Nancy had also taught French, in her heart she always favored her grandparents’ native Deutschland. Unfortunately, when Nancy quit, the small town couldn’t attract another equally qualified teacher and Foxworth’s German program dissolved. Kate still hadn’t quite forgiven her.

She walked to the front door and rang the bell. A minute later she found herself on the threshold, face-to-face with Nancy. “Surprise. I hope you don’t mind that I stopped by unannounced.”

Nancy ran her fingers through her long hair. “Well, the house is a mess. . . but come in.”

Kate stepped into the foyer, recognizing the fresh scent of fabric softener and the telltale hum of a clothes dryer. She pointed at Nancy’s hair. “Nice.”

“That’s right. You haven’t seen me in a while.” Nancy shook her head as if she were in a shampoo commercial. “I went in to get the standard ‘mommy cut’ and I just couldn’t do it. So, I got highlights instead.” She laughed.

“They look great.” Her hair may have looked fine, but without make-up, Nancy appeared washed-out and tired.

“Thanks. Hey, ya want something to drink?” Nancy asked in her Louisville drawl. Kate found it endearing the way she had a friendly Kentucky twang when she spoke English, but could switch it off to converse in German or French. “I’ve got apple juice or water.”

“I’m good, actually. Thanks.” They walked through what Nancy once told her would be the dining room, but now looked like a Gymboree. There was no mahogany table that seated eight (perfect for dinner parties), no classy black and white photograph of Berlin’s Brandenburg Gates, nor a china cabinet displaying her collection of steins. Instead, a chubby baby was banging his fists on a plastic table, causing melamine plates, fake vegetables and broken crayons to bounce up and down. Pint-sized playground equipment surrounded him—a slide, swing and basketball hoop. Apparently the miniature Michelin man was the master of his domain.

Nancy picked him up and carried him into the living room where they all sat down. Looking at all the toys on the stained carpet, Kate wondered if the chaos bothered her friend as much as it did her.

“It’s time for Sammy’s feeding,” Nancy announced, lifting up her shirt.

Kate looked away and self-consciously touched her hair. She wondered what they had in common any more. It was like when Nancy had a baby this wall went up between them.

“Does he ever bite?” Kate couldn’t help but ask.

“He did for a while, but he eventually stopped,” she said with a shrug.

“Oh.” Kate shivered at the thought. She tried to think of pertinent questions. After all, her visit was more than a social call; it was research. “I heard babies sleep all the time. Is that true?”

“He used to fall asleep more often. Now he takes a forty-five minute nap in the morning and then another nap in the afternoon. He’s about ready to eliminate one nap a day and I can’t wait. I just love playing with him. But I’m afraid the house will become an even bigger mess when that happens.”

Kate felt obligated to say, “The place looks fine.”

“It’s just so hard to get anything done when he’s awake. So, I try to clean while he’s sleeping.” A loud buzz came from upstairs. “And as you can hear, I’ve always got a load of laundry going.”

Kate wondered how Nancy got out of bed in the morning knowing her only accomplishments would be chores. “Does Lance help out?”

“Not much with the housework. But he’s always willing to help with the baby. Sometimes he brings files home from the office, but then realizes that he’s missing out on time with Sammy. Oh, I have to tell you. The other day we were dressing Sammy and I almost put white shoes on him. Lance pointed out that we had a blue pair that matched Sammy’s outfit perfectly. I couldn’t believe it. I mean, this is the same guy I’ve caught wearing black socks with brown shoes.”

They both laughed, even though Kate didn’t think it was that funny.

Nancy continued, “Lance is hoping Sammy will follow in his footsteps and play soccer. I’ll have to show you the nursery. It’s full of soccer stuff.”

Kate smiled with closed lips.

Nancy switched sides for Sammy’s nursing. “Mitch isn’t into sports, is he?”

“No, as a kid he was too busy taking things apart to see how they worked.” She laughed quietly to herself. “Once he took apart his dad’s watch and couldn’t figure out how to put it back together again.”

“Uh-oh. I bet he got in trouble for that.”

“He sure did.”

They had an awkward moment of silence. “So, what prompted your visit?” Nancy asked, quickly adding, “Not that I’m complaining. It’s so nice to see somebody from the old days.”

She considered telling Nancy about her situation. She would have been the first person Kate told, which was weird, in a way, since they hadn’t spoken in so long, but also good because she probably wouldn’t talk about it with anybody Kate knew. She wished she had told Mitch about the promise right away, before she had time to obsess about what she should say and before she had time to realize it might cause a giant rift between them.

“You’re pregnant!” Nancy said.

“No.” Kate shook her head rapidly. “It’s not that.” She crossed her legs and took a deep breath. “I’m thinking about it, though.”

Nancy squealed like a schoolgirl. “That would be wonderful. Lance and I are trying, too. Our babies could play together.”

Oh, my God, Kate thought. She’s thinking about having another one. “How old is Sammy?”

“Twelve months. We want the siblings to be close together in age.”

“Wow. I can’t believe he’s that old.” Shouldn’t he be drinking milk from a bottle by now? Is Nancy going to be one of those freaks that still breastfeeds her kid when he’s five?

“Have you been tenured yet?” Nancy asked.

“This is the big year,” Kate said, relieved to be talking about work.

“That’s good. You want to be tenured because then you can take maternity leave for a whole semester instead of just six weeks and they have to guarantee you your job when you come back. It’s in the contract. Of course, once you see your baby, you might not want to go back.”

Kate doubted that. But it was good to know she would have the option of a longer maternity leave if she wanted one. She cleared her throat. “Tell me, honestly, how painful was the delivery?”

“Well, you can’t go by me. I wanted to deliver vaginally so badly. You see, my water broke, but then Sammy just wouldn’t come out. The doctor was patient and let me go through hours of labor until I finally agreed to a C-section. Next time I’m just going to have the C-section right off the bat.”

“Like, how many hours?” Kate asked.

“Twenty.”

Kate’s mouth fell open.

“Kate, seriously. Yours won’t be that bad. Mine was an unusual case. It would be so great if you had a baby. We could put them in strollers and go for walks together.”

“How do you like being a mom?”

“I love it. It’s so fulfilling, you wouldn’t believe.”

“Really? Do you ever get bored?”

“I tell ya, right after ya have the baby you’re too busy feeding him and changing him to be bored. Now, Sammy and I have play dates almost every day.”

A play date. Kate wouldn’t even know what to do on one.

“Kate, being a mom is the greatest. The first few weeks are hard, but it’s so worth it.” Her enthusiasm reminded Kate of a used car salesman and she couldn’t help but feel suspicious. Nancy removed Sammy from her breast and pulled her shirt down. “You want to hold him?”

Kate hesitated, but remembered she needed to learn everything she could about what she might be getting herself into. “OK.” Nancy brought him over to her.

Nancy placed him in Kate’s arms.

She felt nothing. No warm fuzzies. No flood of endorphins. No maternal longings whatsoever.

Nancy reached for a blue and white striped album off the top of the bookshelf. “Let me show you the scrapbook I made.” She sat next to her on the couch. Kate couldn’t believe how slowly Nancy turned the pages, giving a full description of each picture. It started with several images of the grandparents holding Sammy as a newborn in the hospital, swaddled in a white blanket. After that there was Sammy lying on his stomach, lifting his head and crying, labeled with stickers that spelled out “tummy time”.

How many pictures did she have of this kid? Kate decided to focus on the pretty background papers and embellishments. Now those were interesting.

Sammy tugged on Kate’s hair. She extricated her locks and he reached for her earring. “No. You can have this.” She slipped off her bracelet and handed it to him. When he put the gold cuff in his mouth, Kate found herself playing tug-of-war. Finally, Nancy handed him a pacifier. Then she showed Kate tons more pictures of the boy being held by relatives.

Maybe Kate could make a scrapbook of her family. She didn’t have many pictures of her parents, though. In fact, she only had one of her mom. She would have to ask Aunt Suzy for the ones in the shoebox in her closet. And maybe she could make a copy of any pictures Joely had, too. She would love to have a duplicate of the roller-skating photo.

Suddenly Kate realized that she should take more pictures of her sister.

Sammy’s pacifier fell on the floor.

Kate looked at the last photo then focused on Sammy, thinking how lucky he was to have such a loving mother. After studying Kate’s eyes for few minutes, Sammy’s serious face softened into a one-toothed grin. It was one of those my-belly-is-full, my-world-couldn’t-be-better, kind of smiles that curled his fingers and toes.

Kate tingled all over. She started bouncing Sammy up and down, secretly thrilled to discover this perpetuated his smile.

Nancy went into the adjoining kitchen. “I’ve got to show you all of these great gadgets they have for babies. Don’t buy cloth bibs. A couple of these are all you need.” She held up a large vinyl-looking bib with a pocket at the bottom. It had a drawing of a child’s face covered in food and below it said, “Look, Ma! No hands!”

Sammy bounced and smiled non-stop while Nancy informed Kate about sippy cups, travel systems and wipes warmers.

When her arms grew tired, Kate moved Sammy up onto her shoulder. In an instant, everything went terribly wrong. Creamy white spit-up spewed down her back. “Eww,” she couldn’t help but exclaim.

“Oh, sorry. He hardly ever does that any more.” Nancy took him from Kate and dabbed at his mouth without offering any assistance to Kate. “There, there,” she said in the voice you use to talk to a puppy. “Do you feel better now?”

Kate craned her neck to look at her blouse, wondering if the dry cleaner could get baby puke out of silk. She walked to the bathroom but was unable to open it. There was a big plastic ball surrounding the normal handle.

“You have to squeeze on the sides of that thing, then turn the handle,” Nancy instructed.

Kate struggled with the contraption some more, feeling dampness seeping through her blouse. She started to lose her patience and rattled the handle.

Nancy came over and with one hand easily operated the door. “Sorry. You get used to it.”

Once inside, Kate dampened a washcloth and wiped her shirt. Then she looked in the mirror. Was she meant to be a mom? She searched for the answer in her face, but didn’t see it. She splashed some cold water on her cheeks and patted them dry with the hand towel. When she returned to the living room, she announced that she needed to get going.

“Sammy, can you wave bye-bye?” Nancy asked.

He appeared to think about it, but turned away, clinging to Nancy’s shirt.

Kate tripped on a crack in the sidewalk as she headed for her car. “Maybe next time.”

“Oh, he just did it!” Nancy said.

Wonderful
. After climbing into her car, she looked back at Nancy who kept smiling, despite the dark circles under her eyes. Kate could not picture herself ever getting used to it, as Nancy had said.

When Kate arrived home and heard a panicky message from her sister, she couldn’t dial the phone fast enough.