Child of Mine (13 page)

He inhaled slowly. “Okay. I should have talked to you earlier, Nattie. Instead of springing it on you.”

She looked at him, eyes blinking. “By the way, Dad, what will happen to Laura if you marry Karen?”

Skipping over the
if you marry Karen
part, Jack replied, “Nothing would change, sweetie. Laura stays.”

“Things
always
change,” Nattie whined. “Karen won't like Laura. Nobody does. Nobody understands her like me. I'm the only one who has her back.”

“Honey—”

“Why can't you just marry
her
?”

Jack pulled back if only to get some distance from Nattie's steely-eyed gaze. A car pulling in behind them tapped its tinny horn. “We've already had this discussion, Nattie.”

“I didn't like how it turned out.”

“Laura and I are friends . . .
just
friends,” Jack said. “You have to love someone before you marry them.”

Turning toward the window, Nattie shook her head. “It's not like Laura hasn't ever dated before, you know. She's had practice.”

“I'm not surprised.”

“She had a boyfriend once,” Nattie muttered. “That's why Laura got shunned.”

Jack was taken aback. He'd never heard this part of the story, the real reason,
any
reason for that matter, behind Laura's shunning. “I doubt she was shunned just because she had a boyfriend.”

Nattie nodded sharply, as if to say,
“Yeah huh,”
until her expression wilted, her face turning carrot red, her natural response to shame. “But I shouldn't have told you. It's private stuff.”

“I won't tell anyone,” Jack said.

“You
can
't.
”

“Listen, Nattie, I've decided to start dating. I'm not sure anything will come of it, but I'm going to trust God and see where He leads.”

Nattie flinched. “You're gonna date
other
girls
after
Miss Jones?”

“Possibly.”

Nattie looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. “Let me get this straight.
You
are going to go out on dates? You've never even
been
on a date . . . like
ever
!”

Jack frowned. “Put your seat belt on,” he said. “We need to get back.”

With exaggerated slow motion, Nattie smoothed her shorts, wiggled into a comfortable position, adjusted her T-shirt, wiped her hair out of her eyes, then finally clicked her seat belt into place.

Backing out, Jack glanced at Nattie, who grimaced. “I really can't believe you're telling me like . . .
two
minutes before Miss Jones arrives.”

Frustrated, Jack said nothing.

“Why not just marry
Laura
?” Nattie repeated, pursing her lips and going silent for the duration of their trip home.

That went well,
he thought grimly.

F
rom his office, Jack could hear the hum of the oven fan as Laura worked that afternoon to prepare the evening meal for the so-called date with Karen Jones. He'd passed through the kitchen earlier and noticed various chopped ingredients for a salad, which Laura had organized on the cutting board, and the rich scent of bubbling tomato sauce filled the air. It was then he remembered hearing San say something about spaghetti's not being recommended for a first date and wondered if they shouldn't have grilled steaks or salmon outside. But it was too late to rethink this. Besides, he felt fairly confident he could manage not to wear his dinner.

Back in his office, Jack was busy plowing through the aircraft rental figures for the month when he heard a soft padding of feet.

Suddenly, clammy arms encircled his neck, and Nattie's silky hair brushed against his neck. “I'm sorry I'm such a girl
and
a kid all rolled into one,” she said. “You still love me, Dad?”

Jack grasped her hands, seeing the repentant look in her eyes. “I happen to love you
best
as a girl and a kid,” he said, turning in his chair.

Nattie sniffed meekly. “So . . . we good?”

He wrapped his arms around her. “We're always good, kiddo. Always.”

“And . . . you won't get married without telling me?”

Jack looked into her eyes. Nattie wrinkled her nose suddenly and then sneezed, not once, not twice, but three times, covering her entire face with her little hands. She made a sorry face. “Did I get you?”

Jack pulled a tissue from one of the ever-present tissue boxes Laura kept around the house and Nattie wiped her nose.

He braced her shoulders again. “Okay. Where were we before that explosion?”

They both laughed.

“Listen, Nattie. I won't marry
anyone
unless we talk about it first, okay?”

“Deal.”

They shook on it, and Jack ignored the icky-moist splotch that migrated from Nattie's thumb to his palm.
Raising kids is not for the faint of
heart,
he thought, grinning.

Seemingly satisfied, Nattie tossed her tissue in the wastebasket and ran off to help Laura in the kitchen. Jack emerged from his sanctuary and began vacuuming the family room.

Later, he and Laura set the table, and the phone rang just as they were finishing. Nattie got the phone upstairs and called for him, “It's Auntie San Fran!”

My dating coach,
Jack thought with a smile.

Jack got on, but the line had an echo. He turned, glancing toward the upstairs. Nattie was peeking around her door. She hadn't hung up yet.

“Nattie . . .”

She pulled a face. “How else am I going to learn stuff!”

As soon as she hung up, San laughed. “I haven't even left yet, and you're already losing control over there.” She asked how Nattie had taken the news, and he paused. “She's okay with the dating if that's what you mean.”

San began firing questions: “Have you scoured the bathrooms?”

Yes.

“What're you planning to wear?” she asked.

“Well, my tan cargos and a Winnie the Pooh T-shirt.”

“Very funny,” she replied.

When he told her the truth—a pair of broken-in jeans and a sweatshirt—San hit the roof. So he agreed to change into nicer pants and a golf shirt. They discussed further details, proper etiquette for supper, suitable conversation topics, and appropriate behavior until Jack's head began to hurt.

He hung up as quickly as possible and shooed away Nattie, who'd been hanging around, undoubtedly trying to decipher his side of the conversation. She scampered off to change her own attire while Laura continued to monitor the spaghetti sauce.

“Why don't you and Nattie return home before too long?” Jack suggested. “I'd like Nattie to spend a little time with Karen, if that's all right.”

There was a whimsical glint in Laura's expression, and they settled on seven-thirty for their return from the mall, an hour after Karen's anticipated arrival.

Jack wandered into the dining room, seeing the candles, unlit but poised for greatness, the table set, the house “redded up,” as Laura would say, and all systems go.

———

Laura hurried Nattie to the door just as Karen pulled into the driveway, fifteen minutes early.

“What now?” Nattie asked, clearly amused.

“Just act normal,” Jack said.

“What's that?” Nattie muttered, grinning.

Removing her dark sunglasses, Karen came to the door wearing a long soft pink skirt and a sleeveless white blouse. Jack decided immediately that Karen Jones would have easily passed San's muster.

Three sets of eyes met Karen's. Laura and Nattie welcomed
her, then tried to slip past as Laura explained sweetly, “We were just headin' out.”

Karen frowned, clearly disappointed. “Isn't Nattie staying for supper?”

“Oh, she'll be back later,” Jack said, thinking Karen's response rather strange, considering he'd made this clear earlier.

“Are you sure she can't stay?” Karen asked, glancing back and forth between Jack and Nattie.

Nattie took it from there. “Yeah, I want spaghetti, too. I
never
get spaghetti.” She smiled brightly at Karen, flashing her perfect teeth. “You look pretty tonight, Miss Jones.”

“Well, aren't you sweet,” Karen replied.

Jack found his manners and introduced Nattie's Amish nanny, and Laura flinched a little when Karen offered to shake her hand.

Then, with an amused sparkle in her eyes, Laura gestured toward her car. “Well, yous have a
gut
time, all right? I'll be back tomorrow, then.”

Nattie escorted Karen into the great room, and Jack said good-bye to Laura, apologizing for the mix-up.
Really
awkward
, he thought. But Laura took it in stride, giving him a few last-minute tips on the spaghetti dinner. Then she gave him a wave good-bye and walked down toward her car.

Standing on the steps, Jack heard the door unlock as she pointed the remote key at the car. Laura turned back again. “Did I forget something?”

Jack shook his head, almost wishing she had.

“You'll be fine tonight . . . with your date,” she said quietly.

He nodded. “Thanks. You're very kind.”

Back inside, he and Nattie gave Karen the five-minute tour. The aroma of spaghetti and meatballs wafted throughout the downstairs as Nattie showed off her tower of DVDs, meticulously ordered according to her favorites, in the great room. Shortly thereafter, Jack opened his office to show Karen his aviation wall.

Eventually, they settled into the dining room, with Jack at
the head of the table. Karen and Nattie sat on either side of him, across from each other. After the blessing, the meal progressed as planned. Jack recalled Laura's particular instructions for serving the food, and happy conversation proceeded.

Nattie held court and Jack steered the discussion along noncontroversial lines. But then halfway through the meal, Karen noticed Nattie hadn't eaten any green beans.

Earlier in the day, Laura had suggested green beans to Jack, since
“Not everyone likes
corn or peas, but most folks like cut green beans
with plenty of butter.”

Except Nattie,
Jack had thought at the time.

Presently, however, Karen Jones was leaning forward on her side of the table, coaxing Nattie to “Just try a few beans, honey.”

Nattie put on her politest face and shook her head.

“Our tastes can change as we grow older,” Karen added.

Nattie nodded exuberantly, overly agreeable. “Well, mine haven't yet.”

Oh boy,
Jack thought.

Nattie wiggled her nose. “I'm cool with just a salad, but thanks.” In fact, as a compensation for the lack of beans, nearly half of Nattie's plate was filled with leafy baby greens.

Taking matters into her own hands, Karen did the unthinkable. She dished up a small portion and placed the beans on one side of Nattie's plate. “Why not try a few,” she said, winking at Jack. “You might be surprised.”

Nattie stared at the offending green things as if they were roaches. She looked over at Jack, horror in her eyes, silently beseeching him:
“Rescue me!”

“Nattie really doesn't have to eat green beans,” Jack intervened. “As long as she's willing to compromise.”

Karen raised her eyebrows. “Compromise?”

“Well, sure, by eating salad,” he replied.

Karen applied her paper napkin to her lips. “I suppose that's one way to approach it.”

Nattie nearly collapsed with relief, and for the next few minutes they ate in silence.

Finally, Karen put her spoon down and steepled her fingers.

Jack took that as his cue. “So . . . are you ready for dessert?”

“It's strawberry pie,” Nattie announced proudly, apparently having recovered from her close call.

“Well, we certainly don't have any objections to sweets, now, do we?” Karen smiled.

Nattie returned the smile, but Jack could tell she was melting under Karen's sarcastic reproach. Jack bit his tongue.
Let it go.

After dinner they settled into the great room and reviewed the photo album from Nattie's third grade. Later, they played Uno until nine o'clock, when Karen made a move toward the door. Meanwhile, Nattie waited in the living room, nursing a worried look.

At the door, Jack and Karen exchanged appropriate niceties about the evening. Karen inched closer, until she was stroking his arm. She extended her cheek, and if Jack wasn't mistaken, she puffed it out a bit.

After a moment of confusion on his part, Jack kissed her cheek.

“I had a delightful time,” Karen said again, reaching up to wrap a silky rainbow scarf around her neck. Jack offered to walk her to her car, but she objected. “No, no. You stay and keep Nattie company. But thanks.”

Nattie wandered over and joined Jack at the door. They watched as Karen Jones walked down their steps to the driveway, got into her car, and without further admonishments, lectures, or stink-eyes, drove off into the night.

Jack put his hand on Nattie's shoulder and squeezed. “I'm proud of you, sweet pea.”

Nattie looked up at him. “I did okay?”

“Better than that.”

Nattie breathed out a long sigh as the two of them, like refugees from a hurricane, huddled in the doorway.

“We survived,” Jack said, moving away from the door at last.

“
Now
will you ask Laura out?” Nattie just had to say.

“Please don't start.”

“Just askin'.”

Together they cleaned up the kitchen, and when they'd finished, Jack sat on one of the counter stools and patted the one next to him. They stared at each other for a moment, faces blank, lulled by the whooshing of the dishwasher.

“I'm exhausted.” Nattie yawned. “She wore me out.”

Later, when Jack tucked her in, he mentioned how much Karen had enjoyed looking at Nattie's scrapbook.

“She was just trying to impress you.”

Jack considered that. “Surely there was something good about the evening.”

Nattie creased her eyebrows and pressed her finger on her forehead. “Let me think about that.”

Jack tickled her and she squealed. “The strawberry pie was the best part. That's what it was.”

“Not the green beans?”

Nattie giggled again as Jack pulled Laura's Amish “quiltie” up to her chin. After their prayers, Jack leaned in to kiss her good-night, and Nattie widened her eyes dramatically, puffing out her right cheek.

“You caught that, too, I see.”

Nattie nodded and Jack kissed her waiting cheek, which deflated suddenly. Nattie chortled. “Wait, Dad, I feel crooked.” She puffed up her left cheek just then, and when he kissed it, Nattie's cheek popped like a balloon, complete with sound effects.

“Better?” he asked.

“Better.”

Better indeed,
Jack thought.

Nattie handed him Flounder, and Jack accepted it graciously. “Flounder doesn't talk any more than Whiskers, but I thought you could use a break tonight.”

Jack turned off the light and retired to his room, placing Flounder beside his pillow, wondering what his sister, San, might have up her sleeve for him. He didn't relish the thought of her guffaws once he admitted she was quite right about Miss Karen Jones, bless her heart.

He wandered out to the balcony and gazed downstairs, marveling at this very small step forward, his first date since college.
I actually entertained
a woman in my own home.
Small potatoes for other men, perhaps. And despite tonight's disappointment, the whole dating plan somehow didn't seem as daunting anymore.

But he couldn't help reflecting on how Laura might feel about the whole thing, if she felt excluded, or pushed out . . . or worse, betrayed.