Why can’t I be more like Sondra?
Allyson pushed that question from her mind. Maybe that had been the whole point of this night, to learn to be more flexible. To learn to find peace no matter where she was. To let things go. To go along for the ride, and so far she had failed completely. She took a deep breath and focused on Sondra’s gaze.
“I am really sorry about the horrifying display out there.” She drug out the words and her eyes darted to the side. “I actually think I’m going a little crazy.”
Sondra’s brow furrowed as she listened, and then she shook her head, dismissing Allyson’s apology. She offered a compassionate gaze. “You were just having a moment.” She reached over and patted Ally’s hand.
She leaned forward, offering a confession. “Yeah, well it was like my fifth one this week.”
Sondra didn’t seem surprised, or even horrified. “It happens to everyone.”
A half-laugh emerged from Allyson’s lips. For some reason she didn’t believe Sondra. She laughed again under her breath. “Really? Somehow I can’t picture you having
a moment
.” Sure, she’d seen Sondra blow up at Zoe a little, but that was different from Allyson’s display in front of total strangers.
Sondra smiled a knowing smile, and Allyson waited for what she had to say. But then, Sondra’s look changed and she put on the peppy, happy face again.
“So how’s the blog going?” Sondra asked instead. She played with the straw in her drink cup; as if that was the most important thing she had to think about. She took a sip from her drink and then wiped the corner of her mouth with a finger. Sondra had no reason to worry. Her hair was perfect. Her makeup was perfect, and there wasn’t even the smallest smudge on her lipstick.
“Oh, the blog.” Allyson bounced a little in her chair, and tilted her head to the side, trying to find the right words. “It’s—it’s not coming, really at all.” Allyson lifted up her straw and swirled it around in her cup. “I can’t—I can’t really find anything worth saying.” She rested her elbow on the table and then rested her cheek on her hand.
“And almost every time I sit down to try . . Allyson stretched out her hand for emphasis. “. . . I just end up watching that eagle’s nest. You’ve completely ruined me.”
A smile lit Sondra’s eyes, and she leaned close. “And Ray thinks it’s crazy.”
Allyson laughed. “And you know, seriously. I can’t stop watching. It’s like crazy.” She placed an open hand on the table, feeling the cool Formica under her fingers. Allyson closed her eyes and let her words tumble out. “I don’t know . . . she’s so . . . there. You know?”
Allyson pounded soft fists on the table. “Like, she’s peaceful. Happy.” She glanced up and realized that tears rimmed her eyes. “Are you . . .” Allyson swallowed, laying her heart on the table between them. “Are you . . . happy?”
The burden came again. Heavy. Big. And it settled on her chest. It was always there, even though she tried to ignore it. And sometimes—like now—it seemed heavier than others.
“Look, Ally. Life is not about a . . . parking space.” Sondra briefly glanced over Ally’s shoulder to where Mattie Mae was still bowling. “It’s not about God taking away all our problems and making everything perfect.” She clasped her hands together. “It’s about finding . . . meaning and joy and purpose in . . .” She motioned to the space around her. “This. In the crazy. In the chaos. It’s about knowing God is with you in the good days and the bad days.” Sondra reached over and took Allyson’s hand again.
“Yeah.” Allyson lowered her head and looked to Sondra’s hand on hers. Then she looked up at her, peering up under her lashes.
“And does my faith give me that?” Sondra continued. “Yeah. It does. Am I always ‘happy’ No. That’s a fantasy.” It made Ally feel better. She wasn’t the only one with these struggles and issues. And she knew that God was there—with her—no matter what. But still . . . well, she just wished it was easier to change.
Allyson released a sigh. Some of her pent-up tension released with it. “I think I’m up.” Ally stood to bowl. She moved to get her ball.
“Hey Ally,” Sondra called after her. Her voice was low. Allyson turned back.
There was a softness to Sondra’s face that Allyson hadn’t seen too often. A tenderness and maybe even vulnerability. Allyson leaned over, placing her hands on her knees, to hear what Sondra had to say.
“Thanks for inviting me tonight.” Sondra offered a shy smile. “You know, it’s the first time anyone from the church has invited me to something like this.” She shrugged. “First time in five years.” She forced a soft laugh, as if it hadn’t bothered her . . . but Allyson could see that it had.
Allyson stood straighter. “Of course.”
Sondra looked back to the table. Her lips were pressed into a thin line as if she was trying to hold her emotion in. And if Allyson wasn’t mistaken, there was the hint of tears in Sondra’s eyes as she looked back to her drink. Sondra lifted it up and took a sip.
Allyson turned back around slowly. For so long she had thought Sondra had everything together, but maybe that was just a show. Was it better to explode or better to hold everything in and keep everyone else at arm’s length? For the first time Allyson wondered if one was just as bad as the other.
Izzy hurried around Allyson. She placed a hand on Allyson’s arms and pointed to the balls. “Hey, go.”
“I’m going. I’m going.” Allyson stepped closer. Izzy walked around her and then sat in the chair that Allyson had just left. She settled in and then leaned forward.
“Hey, can I ask you something? A little free advice?” Izzy asked, leaning close to Sondra.
And then, as if someone had just pulled down the shades on a sunny day, the look on Sondra’s face transformed. The vulnerability was gone. She took off her Sondra hat and put on her pastor’s wife hat again.
Allyson released the breath she’d been holding, and in that moment Sondra looked differently in her eyes. Sondra wanted to help everyone, but how often did people want to help her? She tried to be everyone’s friend, but who reached out to befriend her? Allyson had been so worried about her mommy meltdowns that she hadn’t even taken time to really listen to Sondra’s concerns.
As she picked up the bowling ball and hurried to the lane, Allyson wondered if it was suffocating being the one who everyone confided in. Especially when hearing everyone else’s confessions, worries, and fears did nothing to help your own.
CHAPTER TEN
Marco / 8:00 PM
Called 10 times, where R U?
Marco / 8:00 PM IZZY . . . HELP!!!
Sean / 8:00 PM Ally, don't freak out.
Marco / 8:00 PM
I'm freaking out-of-control
Sean / 8:00 PM
Got everything under control
Marco / 8:00 PM Totally out of control!!
Sean / 8:00 PM Just need to chat.
Sean tried to ignore the sounds of video games behind him as he spoke into his cell phone. He’d tried to text Allyson, but she hadn’t returned the text messages. He knew Marco had tried to reach Izzy too.
Sean had seen the frantic look in Marco’s eyes as he’d tried to get a hold of Izzy. “This is bad. This is bad,” Marco had repeated over and over.
Finally Sean gave in and called Allyson. He knew she’d be upset—really upset—if he didn’t try to reach her. There was no answer to her cell phone, so he decided to leave a message. It made him happy that Allyson had taken his advice to unplug. She’d also obviously encouraged her friends to do the same since no one was responding.
Sean pictured the women in his mind’s eye, sitting around a small cafe table. Talking, laughing, and tasting everything that everyone else had. When he usually went out to dinner he never wanted anyone to touch the food on his plate, but girls were different. They not only enjoyed their food, they wanted others to taste it too, and enjoy the moment with them. It’s as if the food tasted better if someone else oohed and aahed over their selection.
After four rings, Ally’s voicemail came on, telling him to leave a message. After the beep he started in.
“Hey Ally, it’s me, just wanted to let you know that everything’s going great here. Uh, we’re all good. We’re going to take a little trip to the hospital.” He tried to keep his voice calm, his tone light. And he thought he was doing a good job, but over his shoulder Sean could hear Kevin’s voice, and Kevin was anything but calm. After using up their tokens, and finishing up their games, Kevin and the kids had ventured over to the prize counter to redeem their prizes.
“Are you kidding me?” Kevin’s voice rose above the noise of the arcade room. “You want 50 tickets for this plastic spider?” The dinging of a pinball machine filled the air, but Kevin’s voice was louder. “That’s extortion!”
Sean continued leaving the message, keeping his voice even-keeled. “Beck got stuck in the Rocket to Mars game,” Sean said as unemotionally as if telling her they’d had chicken strips for dinner. “They didn’t have to use the Jaws of Life this time, thank goodness.”
Sean looked over to Beck who was sitting next to him, chow-ing down on a piece of candy and holding an unwrapped sucker in his hand. Allyson never let Beck have a big sucker like that— choking hazard.
Beck looked around, watching the colorful, flashing lights around him, taking in all the noise, and he didn’t seem to have a care in the world.
“He’s free now,” Sean continued on the message, “but the fireman said he had to be checked out. A matter of policy. So I’m gonna take him. Which is convenient because I kinda dislocated my shoulder trying to get him out of there. Funny thing.” Sean smiled, knowing full well that Allyson wouldn’t think it was funny.
The fireman approached as Sean talked, angling the stretcher so that it was more like a chair, and urging Sean to lean back into it. Sean turned around and lifted his leg over Beck, so that his legs straddled the young boy. Then, as gingerly as he could, Sean leaned into the stretcher. His youngest son allowed the EMT to move him, so that he sat between Sean’s legs. Beck’s small tennis shoes stuck up next to Sean’s larger ones on the stretcher. It would make a cute picture for him to post on Facebook . . . well sort of. Allyson wouldn’t be amused.
Sean tried to adjust against the back rest, but pain shot through his shoulder. As long as it was immobilized in the sling it didn’t hurt too bad, but even the smallest movement caused searing pain to course through him. His heartbeat quickened, and his stomach lurched. For some reason the pizza he’d just gobbled down wasn’t sitting too well.
As Sean allowed the EMTs to situate him on the stretcher, he could see Kevin still at the prize counter. Kevin leaned forward, eyeing the teen boy on the other side as if on a face-off.
“We spent $50 in tokens and got 200 tickets. I want something of equal or greater value,” Kevin declared. “Like a—”
“A puppy!” Bailey cut in, her blonde hair bouncing on her shoulders as she bobbed with excitement. Brandon stood next to her, nodding in agreement.
Kevin pointed to Bailey excited. “Yes, like a live animal. I want something like a live animal. Like a turtle or a pet pig. I want a pet pig.”
An EMT leaned close, looking into Beck’s eyes in a pin light, checking for a concussion and breaking off Sean’s view of Kevin and his other two kids.
“Me and the Beckster are kind of cruising on our own,” Sean continued on his message to Allyson, “but they need the minivan to move the kids around. We know where you are. So we’re just going to slip into the parking lot, and we’re going to switch the cars around and take the minivan.” He took a breath. “Marco texted Izzy that, so she knows that—”
A beep sounded, letting him know that he’d run out of time for his message, and then the call dropped. Sean looked down at ttle as the EMTs rolled him and Beck past the video games and toward the front doors.
“I’m pretty sure she got most of that,” Sean mumbled to himself. Just as long as Allyson got the part that he was taking the van and leaving Marco’s car. That was the most important part of the message. Sean could hear Marco’s voice trying to help the ticket counter guy and Kevin come to some type of compromise.
“What about the bouncy balls? Kids like bouncy balls!” Marco said.
“Marco, that’s a choking hazard.” Kevin’s voice was far from patient. “Why am I the only one who knows this stuff?”
***
The music at the bowling alley blared! Blared! Sondra resisted the urge to cover her ears. They’d been “so lucky” to be there when the bowling alley switched over from regular to cosmic bowling. This meant that they turned off the lights, turned up the music, and turned on the black lights. From Sondra’s experience, more noise and less light never led to anything good.
Sondra watched as Izzy bobbed and carried a plate of nachos from the snack counter. That had to be Izzy’s third trip up there. She’d spent more time eating than bowling, not that Sondra minded. She liked being with her friends, but bowling wasn’t her favorite. She wasn’t coordinated, and she was too self-conscious to let herself go and have wild fun.
She envied Allyson in that way. Allyson didn’t hold anything in. Instead, she let it all out—all her frustration, all her worries, all her annoyance. Sometimes she let it out in inappropriate places, at inappropriate times, but surely that had to be better than holding all of it bottled up inside, right?
That was the hardest thing about being a pastor’s wife, Sondra supposed. She knew everything, but couldn’t speak a word about anyone, lest she be considered a gossip. There were times she wanted to cry, but didn’t want to alarm anyone. There were times she was furious with Ray, but didn’t want anyone to look negatively upon their spiritual leader.
There were even times she wished she could ask advice about how to deal with Zoe, but how could she when she was the one who was supposed to have all the answers? Her greatest fear was that she’d say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing and Zoe would walk a dark path, just as she had. But who could she even relate that fear to? No one.
“It’s time for the Dance Cam,” the DJ called over the sound system. People around them cheered. Izzy continued toward them with a little hop to her step and a sway to her hips. And even though Sondra didn’t think it was possible, the music grew even louder.