A Not-So-Simple Life (19 page)

“Do you know this for a fact? Have you been around the world to see whether it’s really round or flat? Or do you simply believe what you read or what someone told you?”

Kim laughed.

“That’s ridiculous,” Natalie said, unruffled. “Everyone knows that—”

“You seem to enjoy speaking for everyone,” I retorted.

“I just enjoy speaking the truth,” she said. “I have strong convictions, and I don’t care who hears them. It’s all part of being a Christian.”

Okay, I know it was stupid, but I just couldn’t control myself. Besides, from what Marissa had told me, Natalie’s tarnished reputation is common knowledge anyway. “So can I assume that your Christian convictions endorse premarital sex? Because I must admit, that’s a new one to me.”

Kim’s eyebrows shot up, and I knew that was a warning for me to stop, but it was too late. The elephant was in the living room, and far be it from me to pretend that it wasn’t.

“Not that I’ve known all that many Christians,” I continued, “but the ones I knew were a little uptight about—”

“Yes!” snapped Natalie. “I did make a mistake, okay? A mistake I attempted to rectify. As the Bible says, let he, or in this case she, who is without sin be the one to cast the first stone.”

“Huh?”

“It’s a Bible verse,” Kim said quickly. “Kind of a metaphor for not judging others.”

“Well, maybe Natalie should pay attention to that one herself,” I said. After that, I shut up. And so did Natalie.

“Why do you keep pushing her buttons?” Kim asked me as she and I went into her house. Natalie had already stormed off to her house next door.

“Me?” I gave her an innocent look.

She kind of laughed. “Okay. Nat likes pushing yours too.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

“It’s probably hard for you to understand, but Nat has this deep need to convert everyone.”

“Maybe she should focus more on her own issues.”

“Good point. And just so you know, she really has a good heart.”

“I’m sure.” But as I said this, I could taste the sarcasm on my tongue.

“And if she didn’t care about you, she probably wouldn’t say half of what she does.”

“Wow, I’d hate to hear how she talks to her good friends… like you?”

Kim shrugged. “Trust me, Nat and I have had our own go-rounds for years now. But in the end, when I need someone to stand by me, she’s always there.”

I wanted to ask why that was a good thing but had a feeling I’d already stepped over the line as well as on some toes.

I’m not going to tell Kim or Natalie that Spencer has been pressuring me to go to the prom with him. He makes these jokes like since I’m new here and he doesn’t have a date, we should go. I’m flattered, but there’s not the slightest chance I’ll go with him. And not because of Natalie’s stupid comments. In fact, just hearing her say that makes me want to spend more time with Spencer. Even though I don’t want to go to the prom, I might go out with him. Just to show Miss Busybody to mind her own business.

Something in the house felt odd today. Both Kim and Uncle Allen were very quiet at dinner. As usual, I was ready to fix my own food, but to my surprise Kim urged me to join them. She had even attempted to fix a vegetarian dish of spaghetti and
tomato sauce. Of course, it wasn’t vegan because it had Parmesan cheese on top, but I didn’t scrape it off. And anyway, I’ve been slacking off a little lately. But mostly I didn’t want to offend her, so I actually tried to make some light dinner conversation, but it seemed to go nowhere. Oh, they were polite, but it was like something was wrong. Really wrong. I began to suspect that I had done or said something to offend them. And I quickly finished my food and excused myself, saying that I had homework.

As it turned out, it’s the one-year anniversary of my aunt’s death. I didn’t figure this out until later this evening when I went outside to get some fresh air and to check out the garden. By then the sun was just going down, and it was shadowy and cool, and when I came around a hedge, there was Kim. We both sort of jumped.

“Sorry,” I said when I realized I’d startled her. “I didn’t know you were out here.”

“That’s okay.”

“Did I do something wrong tonight?” I asked suddenly. “I mean, if I’ve said something to offend you or maybe Natalie or—”

“No no, not at all…” She held up her hands to stop me. “It’s just that I’ve been thinking about Mom today.” Then she explained what day it was.

“Oh, I’m sorry…I guess I forgot…I’m not really good at dates…like birthdays and whatnot.” I wanted to add how
my own mother often forgot my birthday but didn’t see the point.

“That’s okay. I wouldn’t expect you to remember.”

“I wish I had known her…” I looked around the garden. It was really starting to look good. “Being out here in her garden sort of makes me feel like I almost know her.”

“You’ve done some nice things out here.” Kim sighed. “I think she’d appreciate that. And I meant to do some weeding and stuff, but I’ve been so busy with the end of school and getting in scholarship things.”

“I don’t mind. I love everything about gardening—whether it’s weeding or planting or watering or fertilizing. It probably seems weird, but I have always loved getting my hands dirty.”

Kim was looking at me now, kind of studying me. “You know what’s even weirder, Maya? My mom loved all that too. And it reminds me that you’re actually related to her—I mean, even more than I am—when it comes to genetics and DNA. You know what I’m saying?”

I shrugged. “I guess. But you’re related to her in a lot more ways than that. According to your dad, you’re a lot like her.”

She nodded. “Yes. I know.”

We stood out there in the dusky light, and Kim told me some of her favorite things about her mom, and by the time she was finished, we were both crying. I know I was crying
for her, and her dad, and their loss. But I was also crying for myself. I never had a mother like that. Not ever.

M
aybe it was because of our talk in the garden, or maybe it was because Natalie was not going, but for whatever reason, I agreed to go with Kim to her youth group meeting tonight. And okay, it was pretty weird sitting in this room with a bunch of Christian kids and trying not to be too rude. Finally I just decided to be myself. It was open discussion time, and the leaders, an attractive couple named Josh and Caitlin Miller, had invited everyone to jump in. Naturally, the Christian kids jumped in. I sat on the sidelines and just observed. And perhaps I spaced out a bit too, because suddenly the focus changed, and Josh Miller was talking to me.

“How about you, Maya?” I could feel the others staring at me now.

“What?” I blinked and sat up straighter.

He smiled, and it was a Brad Pitt sort of dazzling smile. “Sorry to catch you off guard, but I wonder, what question would you ask God if you got the opportunity?”

His wife poked him with her elbow, then laughed. “You’ll have to excuse Josh. He can be a little pushy sometimes.”

“I’m just curious,” he continued. “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”

“Well…,” I began, “if I believed in God, and that is a gigantic if, I would ask Him why He lets so many bad things happen. Why do innocent people die in earthquakes or tsunamis? Why do African orphans suffer from AIDS? Why did Hurricane Katrina make so many people homeless?” I almost asked why God lets people like Shannon have children when they obviously don’t want them, but I figured I’d thrown enough crud onto the table. Besides that, the room seemed very quiet now, and maybe I had these Christian kids stumped. I wasn’t sure whether to be happy or sad.

Josh smiled again. “You remind me of my sister.”

Some of the kids kind of chuckled, and I wasn’t sure what to think about that. But then Caitlin translated. “You can take that as a huge compliment, Maya. Chloe Miller is an amazing girl. And some of us can remember when she was asking questions a lot like this.”

“By the way,” added Josh, “that was a really great question.”

“But you don’t have an answer?” I asked.

“We might not have an answer you’ll like,” he said. “First of all, God doesn’t define ‘bad’ the same way we do. Sure, He created an earth that’s capable of things like earthquakes and tsunamis. God didn’t design this planet to go forever. And our earthly lives are a temporary existence. That’s why
He created heaven to be an afterlife—something that’s made to last through eternity.”

Okay, I’m still trying to wrap my head around that one, but I suppose it makes sense to someone with faith.

“I’m not saying God sends earthquakes and catastrophes to kill people,” Josh continued. “That’s a question that won’t get answered until we see God face to face. But I do believe He uses tragedies to remind us that we are mortal. I mean, it might come as a surprise to some people, but nobody is getting out of this place alive.”

There were some chuckles at this.

“I’d like to answer part of your question too,” Caitlin said. “Some of the sad things you mentioned have more to do with bad choices people make. Take AIDS, for instance. That’s a result of people choosing to do things that God has clearly said are wrong. Sometimes people hurt themselves. Sometimes they hurt others. And it doesn’t please God at all.”

“But God can use these negative things,” Kim said. “I’ve experienced some real pain…and I know how God has used it to teach me things I wouldn’t have learned otherwise. Going through the death of my mom has helped me grow into what I hope is a better person.”

Some of the others chimed in now too, telling of tough experiences that helped change them, claiming that God used challenging circumstances to make them stronger. Their stories were interesting and genuine, but I suppose it was their
enthusiasm that really got my attention. It’s like they were excited about their lives.

“Is this making any sense to you?” Caitlin asked me.

I shrugged. “I suppose it all makes perfect sense if you believe in God. But like I said, I’m not convinced.”

She just smiled. “Hey, we’ve all been there.”

I frowned. “Really?”

“Oh yeah,” Kim said. “You don’t think we were born Christians, do you?”

“No…not really.” Suddenly I’m remembering Grandma Carolina and things I heard in her church. And as different as this group seems from that congregation of old black people clapping and singing, there is an uncanny similarity. I think it’s related to their enthusiasm about life and God. And their hopefulness. I know I don’t have that. I doubt I ever will.

“We’ve all had questions about God,” Josh said finally. “And God is not the least bit intimidated by them.”

“That’s right,” said a guy with long dark hair and the clearest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. “You can throw anything at God—He’s a big boy. He can take it.”

Then Josh challenged me and everyone else to keep tossing their biggest and hardest questions at God. Josh held up his Bible. “And trust me, this is our best answer book. It’s all in here.”

“But keep in mind,” added Caitlin, “that God won’t answer all our questions in this life. There are lots of things He expects us to trust Him for. That’s where faith comes in.”

They all sort of nodded then, like they totally got this. Although I didn’t get it—and I still don’t get it. Then Josh said a prayer and led some songs with his guitar. And after that, it was fellowship time, which I figured meant we were supposed to eat junk food (which I passed on) and talk to others (which I wasn’t too sure about).

But then the guy with those eyes approached me. “Those were great questions. That’s cool that you felt comfortable enough to ask.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know about that.”

He smiled, and I realized he had a great smile too. “Yeah, I guess Josh kind of cornered you. He does that sometimes. But it’s a good way to get people to think about what they believe.”

“I’m not sure what I believe. And I’m not too sure about God either.”

“I hear you.” He nodded, then stuck out his hand. “Hey, by the way I’m Dominic Walsh.”

“And I’m Maya Stark.” We shook hands, and his blue eyes twinkled in a way that reminded me of the Pacific on a sunny day. Okay, I know that sounds totally cornball, but I can’t help myself.

“To be honest, I’m not the best one to answer all that many questions. I’ve only been a Christian for…not even a year yet. And my parents were never churchgoers, so this all still feels pretty new to me. But I do meet with Josh once a week to learn more, and I’ve been spending a lot of time reading this.” He held up what looked like a fairly well-worn Bible.

“I used to have a Bible too,” I confessed, not mentioning that it was a small pink one with a zipper. And then for no explainable reason, I told him about my grandmother and her influence, then how she died. “I guess I blamed God…and kind of set the whole religion thing aside.”

“Sounds like your grandmother was a cool lady. I’d bet she really cared about you…and still does.”

“I don’t know…”

“I’m guessing she planted some seeds back then, and she’s probably up there in heaven just waiting for them to grow.”

Seeds? I knew he meant this as a metaphor. But since I’m a gardener, just the mention of seeds got my attention. That and thinking of my grandma. We talked awhile longer, fortunately moving on to lighter topics, like where I came from and whether or not I liked Harrison High. As we talked, I couldn’t help but be drawn to this guy. In fact, he reminded me of Jason—the handsome roadie I fell in love with last winter. But something about Dominic is even more attractive—
and different. I mean, although he’s obviously not as old as Jason, it’s like he has a maturity beyond his years. And he also has this very straightforward manner, this attitude like he’s really at ease with himself and comfortable in his own skin. Well, why shouldn’t he be? He’s tall and has those gorgeous eyes and that cool smile and great cheekbones. He’s really good-looking. Okay, color me shallow…but I’m not blind!