Before I Say Goodbye Page 10

  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.

  Chapter Twelve

  Dante

  I should have seen it coming, but I guess a parent never does. I could look at the children in my ward and see what they needed—anything from a little extra parental attention to drastic measures like drug intervention. But I hadn’t seen any indications of disobedience from Travis. Maybe with your own child it was different. Maybe I’d trusted him too much, maybe I had expected him to do the right thing simply because my hands were too busy with everything else.

  “Dante,” Becca tugged at my sleeve, “he hasn’t robbed a bank, and he’s not on drugs. You don’t have to kill him.” She spoke with a completely grave expression, which poked more fun at my overly dramatic thoughts than anything else could have done. My Becca knew me too well.

  “Fine. I’m just going to make him think I’m going to kill him.”

  “That’s okay, then. As long as I don’t have to visit you in prison.” She started for the door, reaching for the phone in Allia’s hand.

  “I’ll call.” I quickly dialed his number on my cell. Travis had a phone, but it was what we called the family cell phone, and we had given it to him to use when he got his license. There was no texting, and we had to pay by the minute, but it worked. That meant he didn’t give out the number and he only called us. When he could pay for his own phone, it would be a different matter. For now he was on our dime.

  He’d complained. So had Allia, because she wanted a phone, too. But Becca and I both felt that until they were at least sixteen and could pay for it themselves, they had no need of a cell phone for personal use. On the other hand, we needed to have a way to contact them and the peace of mind that they had a way to call in case of an emergency. Thus the compromise.

  “Where are you?” I said when Travis finally answered.

  “At BG’s. Didn’t Mom tell you?”

  “If you’re at BG’s, tell me what your twin was doing in your car—no, my car—at 7-Eleven driving a bunch of friends.”

  Silence. Just as I thought.

  “We just went to get some snacks.”

  “What’s the rule, Travis?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Travis, what is the rule?”

  “Six months of no driving friends.”

  “Exactly. And guess what? That six months started when you got your license last month, but now it starts over. No, it starts when I decide to finally let you drive again. Now, get in the car and drive yourself home—slowly.”

  “But, Dad, I didn’t mean—”

  “Now.” I hung up and smiled at Becca. “He’s coming home.”

  The corner of her mouth twitched. “Your canines are showing.” She took my hand and pulled me past Allia into the house.

  “This is all my fault,” I said.

  Becca shook her head. “No, it’s Travis’s.”

  I turned back to give my daughter a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t ever do this to me, okay?”

  “Okay. Hey, Dad, can you check to see if Kyle’s baptized? She says she’s not, and if she isn’t, I’m going to try to get her to listen to the missionaries.”

  I smiled. “Not a bad idea. That must be why you’re my favorite child.”

  “But, Daddy, I thought I was your favorite child.”

  I looked up to see Lauren in the kitchen doorway.

  “No, I am,” Cory said from behind her.

  “We’re all his favorites,” Allia said, rolling her eyes. “Except Travis. He’s in the doghouse.”

  Lauren frowned. “We don’t have a doghouse.”

  “No, but that’s what Dad always says when someone’s in trouble, and Travis drove friends in the car when he wasn’t supposed to.”

  “Never mind that. Come here, you guys.” I opened my arms, and the younger children attacked me with hugs. This was my favorite part of the day, to come home and find Becca and my children waiting. They were what I lived for. Travis used to wait for me, too. I pushed the thought away, not wanting to spoil the moment.

  Becca headed into the kitchen. “I’ll just put away the rest of dinner so we can go.”

  “James ate with us,” Lauren told me. “He eats more than Cory.”

  “Really?” We called Cory our carnivore because he loved meat more than pretty much anything else. Becca told me he often searched the fridge for a spare pork chop or chicken leg after school.

  “It’s true.” Cory seemed a little put out about losing to James, so I tickled him until he screamed for mercy. Sometimes a father’s job is tough, but someone’s got to do it.

  When the kids finally opted to abandon me for the video Becca had rented for them, I slipped away to change my clothes. “We going to see a movie?” I asked Becca.

  “Dinner. Then I thought we’d do a round of miniature golf.”

  I laughed. “So you can kill me again?”

  “What’s with all this killing talk?” She sidled up to me and put her arms around my neck. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you’ve got killing on the brain.”

  “Hardly.” I kissed her because she was in the perfect position for it, and I could kiss Becca all day, especially after an entire day of writing about software. She tasted like sunshine and a hint of mint.

  A slamming door interrupted our moment. “Must be Travis,” Becca said. “Now, Dante, talk to him like you’re in the bishop’s office.”

  Whenever I was really angry at one of the children, she said something to that effect, and for what it was worth, it did calm me down. Not that I was prone to angry outbursts, but it was easier to be hard on your own children. I felt Travis had let me down in a big way, that by his disobedience he was discarding everything I’d ever taught him. If he sneaked around behind my back in this matter, what else had he done? What else would he do?

  We went to the kitchen and looked in the garage, but instead of Travis, we found Allia on the back porch talking with one of her friends on the phone. “That movie’s a little young,” she said to us. “I told the kids I’d be out here if they needed me. How come you aren’t gone yet?”

  “Travis hasn’t come home.” He’d had plenty of time, and I wanted to get those keys from him. I took out my cell and started dialing. No answer.

  Becca frowned, a worry line appearing between her eyes. “Why isn’t he home?”

  “He must be afraid,” I said, my voice again nearing a growl. “For good reason.”

  “I hope nothing’s happened to him.”

  Why did women do that—automatically jump to the worst conclusion? “I’ll go look for him.” I started for the door.

  “Maybe we should go on our date and let him come home when he wants.” That’s what she said, but her eyes were agreeing with me. “Okay, you go. I’ll wait here
in case he comes home. But, honey, please don’t drive too fast.”

  “I won’t.”

  “What a pain,” I heard Allia say as I left. I couldn’t agree more.

  I drove to BG’s and then to each of Travis’s other friends’ houses. None of the parents had seen Travis, and when they called their children, none would admit to knowing where Travis was.

  Now I was really going to kill him when he got home, or at the very least ground him until he went on his mission. Or so I told myself. Inside, I was worried.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Rikki

  I felt a lot better after leaving Becca’s. I’d done something about James, given Becca the information about the show, and eaten supper—I hadn’t been able to resist Becca’s meatloaf or her sauce. I suspected eating was what had made energy kick back in. Or maybe the migraine pills were finally doing their job.

  “How about renting a movie?” I asked James.

  “Yay! Can we rent the same one Lauren got? It’s about a dragon that can fly.”

  Flying sounded good to me right now, too. “Sure. Whatever you and Kyle decide.”

  “Okay, but you go get her. She’s cranky.”

  I went downstairs, my steps slowing as I heard the music. Kyle was in the unfinished family room dancing on the bare cement. It wasn’t a dance I recognized, and I thought I’d seen all the ones she’d learned from her classes and her videos. It was a mixture of ballet and modern, the steps difficult, but she went through them easily, as if they’d been written for her.

  If I’d had half her talent, I might have done far more with my dancing. Problem was, she didn’t have a chance. Not really. I couldn’t afford the right kind of lessons. She might have them eventually, though. That was part of the plan.

  She came to an end of a difficult pass and stopped before trying a few different steps, shaking her head and substituting new ones. Beautiful, elegant, graceful—all contrasting with her tiny size and the layers of dark makeup. I’d never minded her makeup, feeling it was an expression of her teens, but for a stark instant, I saw her how others must see her—how Dante and Becca and Allia must see her. They wouldn’t perceive talent but only her dropout potential.