The People in the Park (18 page)

“Do you know something about dealing with life’s blows?” I asked.

“You better believe it! I identify with the crooked tree, how it started out strong, but something happened that caused it to bend. But it didn’t quit growing. It found a way to grow upwards in spite of the trouble that came upon it.”

I stared at the tree. It did have a beauty that the others didn’t have. It captured your attention through its bent trunk that eventually straightened. Its limbs spread wide to disclose its flaws and beauty at the same time.

“You have a good day, Lauren.” Ted walked away.

He was right. The crooked tree was eye-catching. As I looked at the other trees in the park, I saw that many were crooked. They didn’t all grow straight up. A few trees had long streaks down their sides where lightning had struck and torn the bark off. The crooked trees were vital to the whole makeup of the park, even though they’d been wounded in some way. Very few trees grew straight up without some form of imperfection.

I wanted to be like the crooked trees. Able to withstand anything and keep growing.

****

Dad arrived home for the weekend and expected everything to be solved concerning my wishes to remain here. When he discovered otherwise, we avoided the topic.

Saturday, Callie called and wanted to hang out at the mall. She picked me up in her sports car. We purchased accessories to wear with our prom dresses. I could shop again without a dire warning going off in my head. Still, I made sensible choices, not spending more than fifty dollars for earrings and a necklace. Later on we stopped by Melanie and Stacie’s house and watched movies in their home theater, replete with popcorn and deli-style sandwiches made by their mother.

40

Mom and Dad discussed the house in Fayetteville.

Calls between them and the realtor and the homebuilder regarding changes they wanted to make in the plans took up much of the weekend.

Sunday morning we could avoid each other no longer. Mom had prepared brunch on the patio, and we hung out there reading the Sunday paper while we ate. We didn’t go to church often, the church Mom liked was over a half hour away. I used to participate in a Teen Group at Callie’s church, but I hadn’t gone in months. This Sunday morning I longed for the atmosphere of Tiffany’s church.

After we had devoured the newspaper and finished eating, it was time to talk.

“Your Mom tells me you are adamant about not going to Atlanta with us.” Dad spoke, his tone thick with displeasure.

I nodded. “I want to be here. Please let’s not fight today.”

“I don’t want to fight either, Kitten,” he said. “I just need to understand what it is you want to accomplish by staying here.”

“I thought we had settled this when we last talked. I want to get to know my family. You’re always telling me that we should be able to depend on each other and be close. How can I depend on somebody I don’t know?”

Mom and Dad were quiet, yet they looked at me like I had grown horns or something.

“How can we really relate to each other unless we have common experiences?” I asked. “Years in the future we can always talk about the year I spent with them. I just want to walk in Tiffany’s shoes. I want to really know what it’s like being a black person in America.” The right words to describe what I wanted had finally come to me.

“It seems to me that you should know that already,” Mom said, with unexpected bitterness. “Jay’s family cut you off at the first sign of trouble. Jay’s friends, who are white, by the way, wrote all over your car. If he had been in town, he probably would have helped them.

“Steffy, your quote unquote friend delights in tormenting you by driving your car.

“And your father, well he was splashed all over the media in a scandal that he had nothing to do with. He was guilty by association before the facts were found out. I can only think it is because of the color of his skin.”

If her plan was to make me feel bad, she succeeded. I lowered my head and tried to remain calm while she finished her tirade. When she was done I lifted my head and looked directly into her eyes. “That’s why I want to discover what it’s like to have positive experiences as a black person. Tiffany and her friends are happy. They…”

“Hah! There’s nothing positive about being a black person in America!” Mom said with derision, cutting me off mid-sentence. “We tried to soften the cushion for you by bringing you out here where you’re only one of few. But it didn’t work. Don’t fool yourself. You’ll see. After a few months you’ll be begging to come to Atlanta with us.

“You think I don’t understand what you’re trying to do? I do. More than you think. You thought I stopped going to my committee meetings and fundraisers because I was ashamed of what had happened to your father. Far from it. I was called on the telephone and told not to come back.

“All the years I put in working to make those events a success and I was told not to come back. All the money I raised and it all came down to being black in America.”

I didn’t know what to say. I’d never heard Mom talk like that, ever. Dad’s jaw was throbbing like it did when he got upset and wanted to measure his words.

“The people in the park have been good to me,” I said, whispering. “And they’re white.”

“I know they have, baby. But I just couldn’t face them. I admit I was ashamed to go to the park. I was afraid they would see the truth in my face. I couldn’t face them, because I had been rejected by people who I thought were my true friends.”

Dad pulled Mom to her feet and held her in his arms. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You had enough on your plate,” Mom said. She tried to regain her composure. “It doesn’t matter. It’s all over now.”

“Is this what’s been causing all the tension between us? Rejection from committee members? I thought you blamed me for this financial mess. I sensed you thought I was guilty.”

“I didn’t know what to think. Everything was going wrong at the same time.”

Dad tenderly raised Mom’s face to his. “I would never endanger our family or our future by getting involved in quick money schemes.”

“Deep down inside I know what type of person you are: honest to a fault. But I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“I was afraid life would never be the same for us again. I was afraid that what I heard on the news might be true.”

“I asked you to trust me.”

“But you wouldn’t talk to me. You locked yourself away in your study.”

“I was trying to clear my name! And I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to. I didn’t want to show you my fear, so I put my head down and worked day and night going through my files.”

All the pain and heartache of the past months came rushing back, for all of us. Each of us had locked ourselves away in our own world.

“Did we make a mistake by moving here in the first place?” Dad wondered.

“No, honey, don’t think that. It was a learning experience.” Mom tried to put on her best smile.

“I wrote about our family for an article I’m writing for the school paper, what happened and all.” I figured now would be a good time to let them know.

Mom gasped, horrified. Dad’s jaw throbbed again.

“You wrote about us and this ordeal?” Mom asked, holding onto the back of her chair for support.

“Not exactly,” I tried to explain. “You see, I, well, Mrs. Stevens assigned me an investigative story for the last issue of the year. I’m writing about how the recession has affected people at my school. I interviewed students and even a couple of teachers. They were upfront with me. Everyone knew what happened to us, so I didn’t think it would be fair unless I started the story with how we had to cut back, but it wasn’t because of the recession.”

I thought Mom was going to faint right then and there. All color seemed to disappear from her face, if that’s possible.

Dad put his hand on my shoulder. “It’s OK. You’re a journalist. You had to give full disclosure.”

“I didn’t do it to hurt anybody.”

“I know.”

Mom kissed the top of my head. “We’re moving away. I won’t have to see anybody here ever again.”

Dad said, “This whole thing has affected both of you in ways that I never imagined. I was so busy trying to clear my name that I barely noticed what you were going through.”

This wasn’t the time for recriminations. We all had to come together and support each other if we were going to start new lives. The fabric around our perfect family seemed to be fraying. I hoped it wouldn’t be a permanent tear, just a rip in the seams that could be put back together again.

The issue of race had been swept under the rug. Mom’s disclosure about being rejected by Fairfield society wasn’t discussed anymore. The hurt she must have felt!

Dad went inside himself and blamed the desire for a better life for me as the culprit instead of seeing the truth, which was the action of snobby, petty people. We had never addressed issues head on. If we had, we might see that the life we had crafted for ourselves had cracks in it.

As I thought about everything, I realized Dad had come out better than Mom and me. After the files had been sifted through, everybody knew he was an honest person who just happened to be working for someone who wasn’t so honest. He’d even been recruited for a better position.

Ted had been right. How we reacted when storms arose in our lives showed our true character. Dad was standing tall and flourishing. Mom was bending with the wind. Me? I was in danger of being uprooted.

Our faith had definitely been challenged by Dad’s situation. Why did God let this happen? Why didn’t He keep it from happening? Hopefully, learning more about God would help me understand.

41

The week leading up to the prom at Patrick’s school was a happy time.

I busied myself with appointments for hair, nails (manicure and pedicure), and makeup. Of course I did it all with Callie, Melanie, and Stacie. After school they accompanied me to my appointments even though they weren’t going to Patrick’s prom. They made sure I had everything together. I think they were just glad I had found somebody to go to our prom with other than Jay. I was pretty glad of that myself. My friends felt they had a stake in my happiness, besides they had seen Patrick first and introduced us at the restaurant. They wanted to make sure I would be looking my best.

Even though I talked to Patrick on the phone every night, his prom would actually be our first date. Coming home every evening was a happy time, too, at least until the middle of the week when Mom stopped me.

Wednesday night I breezed past her in the dining room where she was going over one of her many moving lists. I was anxious to get to my room and finish homework so I could talk to Patrick when he called.

“Dinner is on the stove,” Mom said.

“I ate with Callie, Melanie, and Stacie. We picked up a bite to eat after getting our makeup done at Nordstrom’s.” I carried bags of newly purchased cosmetics and perfume.

“You’ve been late getting home every night. You’ve gotten your nails done and a pedicure. Today makeup. What’s next?”

“Tomorrow I have a hair appointment.”

“Good! I’m glad your life is getting back to normal. You used to do all these things with your friends before the situation with your Dad. You look really happy.”

“I am, Mom. I’ve met the greatest guy! He’s taking me to his prom Friday night.”

Mom immediately put down her list. “What new guy? Do I know the family?”

“No, he lives in Olathe.”

“Where did you meet him?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I have time,” she said.

I took a deep breath and explained how we’d first met when I was out eating with my friends. Then how we’d later met when Maybelle introduced me to him as the grandson of one of her friends.

Mom almost had a heart attack. She could barely speak. I thought she was going to choke. After a while she found her voice. “You mean to tell me that Maybelle from the park found you a prom date? The people in the park know all our business.”

“Mom, it’s not like that. She was just trying to help. I didn’t want her to do it at first. But when I met him I realized I’d already met him before.”

“Still, it’s embarrassing. Who are his people?”

“You can ask him yourself when he arrives Friday night to pick me up.”

“I don’t know about you going out with him. Your father and I have never met him.”

“He’s not a complete stranger. Maybelle and Rose know him.”

“Is that supposed to be comforting?” Mom could be a real pain sometimes.

“I thought Maybelle and Rose were your friends.”

“Park friends. I don’t know them outside the park. What were you doing talking to them about your problems anyway?”

“They saw that I was real sad one day and wanted to make sure I went to my prom. Patrick asked me to his prom before I asked him to mine.”

Mom shrugged and shook her head as if I had committed a mortal sin.

“You’ll like him. He knows what he wants to be and everything. He has his future all planned.”

“But who is his family? What do they do?”

“Mom. Ask him. I have to finish my homework.” I ran up the stairs.

I knew she would be on the phone to Dad complaining about my date and how we’d met.

42

Friday when I got home from school Dad was there. He had taken an early afternoon flight. He hugged me real tight.

“I hear you have a date tonight to a young man’s prom.”

“I have to get ready. He’ll be here soon. He’s picking me up at seven and we’re going out to dinner with his friends to a jazz restaurant at The Legends. Then we’re going to the prom at the Ritz Charles. Then we’re going to an after party at one of his friend’s house in Overland Park.”

“Sounds like fun,” Mom said, coming into the room. I couldn’t believe it. Had Mom changed her mind about me going out with Patrick? She had a black velvet box in her hand. She held it out to me.