Home From Within (8 page)

“Actually, brunette. I think it’s that girl who wears a jean jacket
in winter
with cigarettes sticking out of the pocket.”

“I did see him walking real close to that black girl, Kenyatta.”

“An equal opportunity dater,” Jessica said. “Impressive.”

Jessica made light of the situation because she had no other choice. But seeing Paul with a new girl every couple of months was starting to make her feel worthless—a feeling that she knew should not be lost on a boy, but she could not stop herself. Her only shelter was their friendship. They talked all the time in school, even writing notes and passing them during the day. Once in the hallway while they were walking to lunch, one of the “flavors” stopped and asked Paul where he thought he was going with Jessica.

“To lunch.”

The flavor eyed Jessica up and down. “I don’t think so. You need to find your own man.”

Jessica stepped back stunned, and Paul lurched forward into the flavor’s face.

“You don’t own me. And you don’t tell me who I eat lunch with. Got it?”

“Fuck you, Paul,” she said and stormed away.

Jessica looked at Paul. “I don’t want to cause any problems.”

“You’re not,” he said. “No one tells me who I can hang out with.”

As they got back onto the track they had just derailed, Paul said, “And truthfully, I’d rather hang with you anyway.”

They locked eyes for a brief moment. His smell was making her pulse rise—brisk and clean, like a bar of soap. And his eyes appeared fresh and open. It reminded her of a pristine pond where she swam in the UP. Before she knew what was happening, Paul grabbed her hand and rubbed his thumb gracefully along hers. Her body and mind were digesting every second of his touch, so that it could be played out again and again in bed, next to her pillows.

Paul looked at her longingly. “Are you ready to sneak?”

Without another thought, her instinct to protect kicked in, and she let go of his hand.

“I’m sorry. I can’t,” she said in a defeated tone.

“Jessica, I know one day you’re gonna come to me and say you’re ready. And when you do, I will be.”

Jessica found Paul’s effort valiant; however, he did not know her father. Besides the whole “shooting a boy who steps foot on the property” threat, Jessica had a lot of self-control. All thanks to her self-control training. Her father would put marshmallows in front of Jessica at the age of two and make her wait before eating one for fifteen, twenty, even thirty minutes. If she tried to reach for it, he would hit her hand. No squirming either. Her father took pride in Jessica’s ability to sit still with her hands folded in front of a marshmallow treat for thirty minutes at age two and a half.

But in bed that night, Jessica cried next to her pillows. Her soul was forever being scarred by watching Paul with his slew of girls. The self-control she took so much pride in was starting to wane, and in the dark of the night, her thoughts started to bend toward taking Paul up on his offer to sneak. She thought it would be easier if her father was away on a business trip, but she’d heard nothing about him traveling again. And it had been four months since his return home.

The only bright spot in her life was Aunt Lodi’s visit. Aunt Lodi always came to Chicago in the spring for a week. Her mother prepared the guest bedroom as if someone was being laid to rest. Jessica loved the fact that this was one of the only times that music was played on the radio in the kitchen. Usually it blasted news coverage 24-7, but with Aunt Lodi around, sounds of peace and yesteryear prevailed.

C
hapter
8

There were two pictures in her parent’s bedroom. One was on her mother’s dresser; a round, shiny silver frame showed a black-and-white photo of a man in a hat and suit holding a baby. He was not smiling even though it looked like a special day. The baby was dressed in all white, with a little bonnet. Even the blanket that wrapped the baby in warmth was white. On her father’s nightstand was a simple black frame with a picture of him and Aunt Lodi on horses in the woods. They looked young, maybe in their twenties. Snowcapped trees and white hills surrounded them as a crisp baby blue sky hung low. It almost looked like they could reach up and touch it with their hands. Jessica was amazed at how beautiful the scenery was in that picture. The natural elements helped, but her father and Aunt Lodi looked so intertwined with it all, like they were one with the earth. It was the type of picture that should be showcased in the office. But as she thought about it further, its mere presence amongst the harsh visuals of war would no doubt drown out its beauty. Maybe that’s why her father kept it in the bedroom, behind the closed door, because it’s too easy for a beautiful memory to be engulfed by a room full of harsh ones.

Jessica sat at the desk in her bedroom contemplating how to lie to her parents. She already lied to Aunt Lodi. Well, she didn’t think of it as a lie but as a way to gather information about her family history. She’d told Aunt Lodi that she had a genealogy paper to complete for Humanities. Mr. Gambino did assign a paper; however, it was on her heritage. Jessica knew she was German, Swedish, and Norwegian. Her father taught her that as he lectured, using a map, about the history of America at war. The missing pieces were the stories about her grandparents and those before them. Why is her father so different from his sister? Why does he seem to care about his children but can barely put his arms around them?

At dinner that night, Aunt Lodi brought up the paper before Jessica had a chance to formulate her lie.

“A family tree?” her father questioned. “What does that have to do with your academics?”

“Well, I’m not sure, but it’s an important part of history according to Mr. Gambino.”

Her father and Aunt Lodi looked at each other. She smiled at him and gently said, “You know, I’m sure this is something we can figure out.”

Jessica watched their apprehensive expressions. Aunt Lodi did not seem that concerned when Jessica had told her alone, but now, in her father’s presence, she seemed more rattled. This was the third day into Aunt Lodi’s visit, and her mere presence made Jessica feel like she could challenge the status quo of the household. Not head-on, but in small chipping away steps.

“It would be nice to know more information about your parents,” Jessica said.

“What exactly do you want to know?” asked her mother.

“Well I need to make a family tree and put the names and birth dates of your parents and their parents before them. I also need to include immigration, like when they came through Ellis Island, and any stories that are relevant in our family history.”

“You sound so professional, you straight ‘A’ student,” Aunt Lodi said with a grin. “Aren’t you so proud of her?”

“Of course,” her mother said. “But let’s not get distracted. So you need your father and I to tell you about our ancestors?”

“Yes,” Jessica said.

All three adults looked at each other. Jessica stared at Jason as he shoved more venison stew into his mouth—one of Aunt Lodi’s concoctions.
What is wrong with our ancestors?
Jessica wondered.

“When is your paper due?” asked her father.

“Next Friday.”

There was a long silence before her father spoke up again. “We will have a talk over the weekend, in the office.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Aunt Lodi said, slapping the tabletop. “Now who wants some of my famous homemade brownies?” Aunt Lodi pushed herself up from the table and made her way to the kitchen. “And don’t give me that look, Katherine. My hard-core hippie days are over.”

One of Jessica’s favorite times with Aunt Lodi was in the morning. She would wake up extra early, without the help of an alarm clock, and tiptoe to the guest bedroom. Aunt Lodi would be meditating on the bed, and Jessica would quietly slip under the covers while Aunt Lodi took cleansing breaths. Then, Aunt Lodi would pull Jessica in close. They would whisper, do exercises like the bicycle, and sometimes Aunt Lodi would read her palm. The most wonderful predictions about Jessica were made on her palm. Jessica will have a very successful career helping others, maybe have two children with a man that is very loving and generous. He will be big, like her father, but in a more teddy bear kind of way. Jessica always giggled about that. Aunt Lodi had been telling her that since she was little. As she got older, it would lead into the question: is there a special someone in your life? Jessica would always laugh, and Aunt Lodi would tickle her. But that was before, when it was impossible to have a special someone. Things were different now. Paul was someone special, but Jessica was not sure she could trust Aunt Lodi with that secret. If that secret ever crept into her father’s ears, who knows what would happen to Paul.

“So, do you have a special someone?”

Jessica hesitated. “Well, there are lots of cute boys at school, but no, they’re not into me.”

“What?” Aunt Lodi whispered. “Jessica Turner, you’re probably intimidating those boys with your smarts and looks. You know, boys who like girls are usually too shy to say so. They do all sorts of dumb things to get your attention.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, they take your mittens and hat, so you have to chase them down. They try to act too tough or too funny and end up looking idiotic. Is any of this ringing a bell?”

Jessica thought about it. No one had ever taken anything of hers to make an impression. Plus a lot of what Aunt Lodi was referring to sounded like something that happened in elementary school, not high school.

“No, none of that has happened, but I’ll keep my eyes open for that type of behavior.”

Aunt Lodi laughed and squeezed Jessica tighter. “Yes, please keep an eye out for that ‘behavior,’” she said, playfully mocking her. “Then you’ll know for sure that a boy likes you.”

It struck Jessica in a funny way. Since Aunt Lodi was around, she wasn’t having as many lonely thoughts or feelings. And while she did think about Paul a lot, she didn’t crave his company as much. She wondered why, but she shrugged it off as another way that Aunt Lodi and her contagious self worked. The brightness in her could fill a void in anyone’s soul.

Springtime brought about a renewed love of the outdoors, so the lunch table sat empty of the seniors since many would walk two blocks to JJ’s Gyros for lunch, or go to someone’s house nearby. Eddie now had a girlfriend and would sometimes go to her house with their friends. He never invited the girls along, so one day Marilee asked him why.

“Because you’re my little sister.”

“What does that mean?” Marilee asked.

“Well, things that seniors do aren’t the same things that freshmen do.”

Jessica and Marilee looked at each other. “So you’re making out and drinking?”

“That’s none of your business,” Eddie said and walked away. The girls watched Eddie and his girlfriend lean their heads together as they made their way outside.

“I wonder what he’s doing over there. You don’t think he’s having sex, do you?”

“I don’t know. What do you think of his girlfriend?” asked Jessica.

“She’s nice, you know, one of those cheerleader girls. Always like, ‘
hi
’ and ‘
rahrah.
’”

Jessica smirked, but then wanted to cry. “Speaking of cheerleaders, did you notice who Paul is with?”