The Perfect Family (7 page)

“Maybe not. Maybe she regrets what happened and will want to see her oldest daughter.”

“That would be a miracle.”

He gave her a half-smile. “God does provide those once in a while.”

“You know, I always wondered why God deserted Caroline.”

“Oh, honey, He didn’t.”

Maggie stared at him.

“And as far as your mother’s concerned, you’re forgetting what your counselor said. She can’t hurt you anymore if you don’t let her.”

“You’re right.”

Mike hoped he was. He hoped and prayed that having Caroline in their lives now was a gift, not a burden, one that might help Maggie forgive a church that took Caroline away from her in the first place.

*

Despite the snow drifting outside, the atmosphere in Maggie’s Psych 102 classroom was warm and bright, with its wall of windows letting in an unusual February sun. Her students normally sat in a circle in the spacious area, but today they were scrunched in front where Maggie had displayed birth-order characteristics on a screen. Maggie had taught this lesson before, but the content had more meaning for her this year.

After about five minutes of allowing the kids to complete their individual tasks, she said, “Time’s up. Who wants to share what they’ve written?”

Susan Blakely, a petite brunette, sweet and smart as a whip, waved her hand. “Me, Mrs. Davidson.”

Crossing to the girl, Maggie handed her an eraser. Props helped keep this group, which tended to be talkative and rowdy, in line. The only person allowed to speak was the one in possession of the eraser.

“I’m the oldest,” Susan began. “I think some of the traits up there are insulting. I don’t feel neglected, and I don’t always have to be right.”

“Not all the traits are going to apply, Susan. As I said at the start of class, this is a psychological theory we need to assess. Is there any trait up there that does fit you?”

“Yeah, I guess. I do feel responsible a lot of the time. My mom worked and I took care of the littler kids a lot.”

Maggie thought of Caroline, who’d bought the Lorenzo children’s clothes, purchased Christmas presents for them, and signed school notes when their mother couldn’t get out of bed.

But today, at the memory, instead of the hollowness she used to feel when she taught this part of the lesson, an inner joy spread through Maggie. Caroline hadn’t called yet, but Teresa said to give her time and Maggie was being patient. Teresa
had
e-mailed her a picture of her sister, and Maggie was dumbfounded by how much they resembled each other. Jamie, particularly, had been fascinated by Teresa’s call and Caroline’s story.

“Someone else needs to share now.”

A boy yelled, “Me, me, me.” Cute Tommy Sengle, a star athlete who came to RCC for a year to boost his grades and was dying to play football at for a Division I college.

Susan tossed him the eraser.

“I’m the fourth kid, and I get my own way all the time.”

A girl slouched next to him blurted out, “You think, Tommy?”

Everyone laughed. Tommy was one of the reasons they’d resorted to the eraser. He’d dominate the discussion if Maggie let him.

Other students talked about which traits applied to them and which didn’t. Despite the preponderance of negative examples in the material, most picked good traits they had because of their birth order.

“What’d you put down, Mrs. Davidson?” asked a young boy who reminded her of her brother Jimmy.

As a teacher, Maggie almost always participated in the exercises she expected her students to do.

Again she thought of Caroline, and how some of her own personality had been formed by her sister’s leaving her at such a young age. “I’m the second child and am an overachiever.” She shrugged. “I wish I wasn’t, though.”

“Why not?” another boy asked.

Because Mike hated it and said she was always trying to make their lives perfect.

“It’s not an easy trait to live with.” She glanced at the clock. “We’re almost out of time. Open your notebooks again. Put in the date. Write down one thing you learned today that might help you dealing with life in general.”

Maggie was a firm believer that if a class, whether it be psychology, math, or English, didn’t relate to her students’ lives, the material delivered was worthless. She’d had disagreements over that philosophy with other teachers who claimed it was impossible to make every lesson relevant. But it wasn’t that difficult, not if you thought outside the box.

While they wrote, she considered Jamie’s and Brian’s birth-order traits. They weren’t so stereotypical. Jamie was more somber than Brian, who had an easygoing attitude. Jamie examined life and Bri seemed to let events happen without worrying about them. But they were both caring and loving, and they liked to have fun. Last night, they’d played a video game on the TV and jabbed each other the whole time.

When the students left, Maggie headed to her office. Once she got inside, she dropped down in her chair, opened her desk drawer, and took out a picture of her and Caroline that she’d kept since childhood. Both had dark hair and dark eyes. Of course Caroline had matured into a beautiful young woman while Maggie was going through the awkward body stage of an eight-year-old. She remembered when they were trying on clothes, Caroline saying,
I looked just like you at eight, baby. You’ll grow out of it.

As Maggie stared at the photo, she was once again appalled by how Caroline had been taken away from her. It had been the driving force in the family Maggie herself had created. She believed nothing could cause this kind of schism among her, Mike and her boys. But for the first time in years, Maggie felt optimistic about having an older sister in her life again.

*

“What a day this has been…” Jamie sang the words to “Almost Like Being in Love,” for once putting his heart and soul into it. Not because of Fiona, his love interest in
Brigadoon
, but because of a guy in the audience, tenth row, end seat. He was super excited that Luke was there, despite the fact that Kiki was with him. With the lights shining bright on his face, and the packed house enthusiastic, Jamie poured his heart into the lyrics celebrating real love.

Rising from the bench, he did the dance steps Ms. Marlo had choreographed for the scene, then fell into the role and executed a couple of improvised turns and arm flourishes across the stage’s wooden floor. The director sat in the audience for every performance, and when he finished the song, he heard her yell out before the applause began and the audience gave him a standing ovation. Jamie basked in the accolades. Even if other areas of his life hadn’t yet fallen into place, this one had. He was meant to act.

The rest of opening night, the laughs seemed louder, the songs more dramatic, and when he took his curtain call, the audience once again leapt to its feet. Including row ten.

Still in costume, the actors followed their usual routine of appearing out front to take pictures and greet their parents and friends who’d come to see the spring musical. His mom and dad and Brian were there, of course, as well as his grandparents. Aunt Sara’s family was coming Saturday night. Several of his teachers came up and congratulated him, but he kept scanning the area for Luke.

Brian, especially, seemed up for him. “Hell, you’re good,” he said to Jamie. “I could never do that.”

“Thanks, Bri.”

After talking with tons of people, Jamie took one last glance around, but didn’t see Luke anywhere. Disappointed, he went backstage with the cast.

Ms. Marlo hugged him and his friend Paul as soon as she walked into the room. “You guys! I love you.”

“I love you, too, Ms. M.” Jamie picked her up and swung her around, as she was little, weighing less than his mother.

“What was with the turns?” Ms. Marlo asked when he put her down. “I’ve been trying to get you to improvise for weeks.”

“It felt right.” His grin matched hers. “You know I always do better when I have an audience.”

“Aren’t we happy tonight?” she said, taking his cheeks in her hands.

“Yeah, we are.” He kissed her forehead, then someone grabbed her from behind. Adrenaline pumped through them all after a performance and they tended to be more affectionate.

Happy, Jamie crossed to the vanity area and sat next to Paul to remove his makeup.

“Can I catch a ride to the Ground Round with you, Jamie?” Though the formal cast party wasn’t until the last show, they celebrated at a local restaurant after each of the other performances.

Jamie applied some cold cream to his face and wiped off the foundation. “Um, I have to take Brian and his girlfriend home.”

“Why? I saw your parents here.”

“They had plans and had to duck out right after we said hi. I told them I’d chauffeur Brian and Heather. Can one of the other kids give you a ride?”

“Probably.” Paul frowned into the mirror as he cleaned off lipstick. “You’re coming to the restaurant, though, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be there after I dump Bri. I promise.”

Distracted by the lie he’d told, Jamie finished with the makeup and left hurriedly. In the men’s dressing area, he shed his costume and put on brown jeans and a tan light cotton pullover that had taken him an hour to pick out at home. Slipping into a leather jacket, he headed out of school without saying good-bye to anyone. He didn’t want to answer any more questions.

It was cold and windy, and light snowflakes had begun to fall, so Jamie jogged to his car. The engine warmed up the interior of the Prius and he sat there for five minutes before the passenger door finally opened. The night air slid inside along with Luke Crane.

“Hey,” Jamie said, hearing the nervousness in his own voice, trying to quell it, but he couldn’t.

“Hey, Jame.”

Luke wore a sharp gray sports coat and navy blue sweater beneath. His shoulders ate up the inside of the small car, and his cologne, one that was both woodsy and musky at the same time, filled the entire space. Jamie wanted to lean in closer, inhale the scent and touch the skin that lay beneath those clothes.

“Man, you were unbelievable. I never saw you perform before. It was awesome.”

Had praise ever meant more to Jamie? His heart beat even faster. “Thanks. A lot like you are on the pitcher’s mound.”

“Maybe.” When Luke drummed his fingers on his knee, Jamie realized he was nervous, too. “We have more in common than I think sometimes.”

“Yeah.” A hesitation. “What’d you tell Kiki?”

“I dropped her off at Julianne’s. Some other kids were already there. I told her I had to go pick up soda.”

“Mmm.”

“Sorry about all that.”

Luke had told Jamie he wasn’t ready to go public yet, and since Jamie hadn’t come out either, he went along with the secrecy. They’d been hanging out since the Valentine’s Ball, though, and every time it was more exciting, more physical, more…normal. Now he wanted everybody to know who he was. So Luke still dating a girl felt like they were backtracking. And it pissed him off.

Probably sensing that, Luke added, “I won’t be seeing her too much longer, Jame. I promise.”

“I guess.”

As Luke stared over at Jamie in the lamplight from the school parking lot, his blue eyes filled with excitement. Now,
that
made the lying easier. “At least I get to be with you for a few minutes after that performance. You know, kind of to share in it.”

“I know.”

Reaching over, Luke grasped Jamie’s hand. His was big and callused from throwing balls and holding bats. The texture made Jamie’s skin sizzle. That, and the fact that he’d never held hands with anybody in the moonlight.

And when Luke yanked on his fingers, dragging him as close as he could, Jamie realized he was about to get his first real kiss from somebody he was totally into.

Funny, it
was
almost like being in love.

Madonna blasted out from the portable CD player in the corner of the laundry room, a big space at the end of a hallway and adjacent to the garage door entrance. Maggie sang along with one of her favorite old tunes from high school, “Papa Don’t Preach.” The volume was high and she was a little off-key, but the memories came in full force, probably because Caroline was back in her life. She was thinking about her boyfriend, Jack, and necking in his car while this very song played on the radio. But as usual, the positive recollections led to bad ones from her childhood years and she couldn’t stop the leap this time…

Physical abuse as a ten-year-old…

Get a switch from the lilac tree. You’re going to get it now.

What did I do, Ma?

You know.

Often, Maggie didn’t.

Psychological manipulation as a teen…

You can go out only one night on the weekend.

Why, Ma?

Because Amelia Ranaletti is doing that with Andrea.

That doesn’t make any sense.

And maybe the worst of all, damaged self-esteem…