The Weight of Love (6 page)

9

JAYCEE

Youth activity tonight
, the teenagers. I feel so guilty for the relief I have in having one night a week where I don’t have to do Bridger’s nighttime routine. Sister Allen is there with him, like she is every Wednesday night. The snow’s really coming down and I’m thankful again that Matt’s life insurance paid for my truck. It sucks gas like lemonade, but I feel safe.

I’m the
third car here, right after Bishop Allen, and one of the small silver cars that the missionaries drive. The door will be unlocked and the gym open. We’re playing basketball games tonight—horse, pig, around the world… I may be short, but I can shoot. Well, five foot, six, isn’t really short, it’s average. It’s just short for playing ball. I dash from my car into the building. My huge down coat is wrapped tightly around me trying to make up for the loss of warmth on my bare legs. I can’t play ball in pants.

I step into the foyer and let myself shiver a few times before sliding my huge coat off. I feel eyes on me. My head jerks up from where I’m stomping snow off my tennis shoes to see the missi
onaries – Worthen and Smitts, sitting with some kid who’s a friend of someone in the singles ward. I forget they’ve been meeting with him here.

“Sorry to interrupt.” I glance between their three faces, all of which are pointed at m
e. “The kids will be here soon. If you want quiet, you’ll have to go somewhere else.” I smile.

“We’re finishing up.” Elder
Worthen’s voice is smooth, low. His eyes don’t waver from me, not for a second. My shirt suddenly feels a lot smaller than it did at home.

I try not to notice, hang my coat in the closet
, and jog to the gym. It’s empty, but the balls are out and the lights are on. Paul did this for me, I’m sure. Well, he did it for everyone, but he knows how much I like to be in here alone, and how little it happens. I take the ball in my hands and let it slide through my palms. It feels good. I dribble a few times and step up to the free-throw line.

I have a routine. I get low.
One… dribble, two… dribble, dribble, three…
I let my legs straighten as I arc the ball. My first shot is nothing but net. It pulls a smile from my face like nothing else.

I chase my ball down and try not to think about the fact that Jeremy weaseled his way into helping me tonight. It’s not a date if we’re supervising a youth activity, right?
I haven’t seen him in more than a month. This shouldn’t be a big deal. As the ball hits my hands, I forget about Jeremy again. My chest relaxes and I dribble back to the free-throw line.
One… dribble, two… dribble, dribble, three…

A little
rim, mostly net. Nice.

The missionaries walk in, followed by their investigator.

“Mind if we play?” Elder Smitts asks.

“Don’t pull me from my happy place and you can stay as long as you like.” I
don’t turn toward them, just head back to the free-throw line. Again, nothing but net. This feels great, and better with each throw.

Elder Worthen jogs over, retrieves my ball and passes it to me. It hits my hands hard.
A real throw. Nice.

“Thanks.” I nod, go back into my zone
, and toss another one up. I make it, but just barely. Elder Worthen is watching. He retrieves the ball again and passes it to me.

This time I don’t look.
One… dribble, two… dribble, dribble… three…
It bounces off the rim, but he jumps and easily snatches it. I want to call interference, or distraction or something, but it doesn’t really seem appropriate.

“My turn.” I notice his perfect, white teeth and step aside for him to shoot.

His companion and investigator are at the opposite hoop. This is about as alone with him as I’ll get. And I also really need to not think things like that.

He ha
s nice form, I can tell as soon as the ball leaves his hands that it’s a perfect shot.

“Are you trying to give me some competition?”
I tease as I retrieve the ball and snap it to him.

It slaps as it hits his hand
s, and his eyebrows rise at the strength in my pass. “Just been a while since I shot, that’s all.”

“Alright.” I let myself smile back at him.
For all he knows, I’m just being friendly, but I’m still self-conscious in my snug shirt and baggy boy shorts.

“Sister Layton!” The first o
f the kids arrive. This is good. Better. This’ll be fun. It’s better than shooting with someone I’m not aloud to like and not aloud to touch. Maybe I’ll be able to relax with extra people here.

“You should stic
k around with the guy you were talking to. Help show him how un-perfect us Mormons can be in a room where basketball is involved,” I tease.

“We plan on it.” He laughs and jogs across the gym to talk with his
partner.

And like an idiot, I watch him go.
Watch his easy, long strides. Broad shoulders. I force a sharp breath out. This is ridiculous. In the same thought, I hope Jeremy doesn’t get here ‘til late. I’m not sure how I feel about him being around me. The missionary, I’m apparently okay with. Jeremy, I’m afraid of. This means that there must be something fundamentally wrong with me. Maybe I like Worthen
because
he’s unavailable.

But the
n his laugh echoes in the room and hits my chest. Maybe I’ll just keep trying to
tell
myself I like him because he’s unavailable.

10

ELDER WORTHEN

Not quite 19 months

Jaycee’s good for the youth. It’s easy to see they all look up to her. The only people who can keep up with her in basketball are two of the older guys who play on the varsity team at the high school.

Eric, our investigator
, used to play ball, so even though its kids here, he’s having fun. It might be easier with the teens because
he
has something to teach
them
. He spends twenty minutes or so with some of the kids who play on their schools’ teams working on free-throws. He could use the support I know he’d get from the people here, so I’m glad he came.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Jaycee freeze. I keep my eyes not directly on her, she’s too distracting, but I look her general direction. Her shoulder
s slump and she glances at the floor before walking to the side of the gym. I let my eyes follow to where she’s looking.

Hmm.
A guy’s standing there watching her move toward him with a look I recognize. I wonder if she feels the same? And I know I shouldn’t be thinking this, but I’m just curious. I mean, she
is
one of the people we help out once in a while…

He’s shorter than me, by a f
ew inches I’d guess—blond, light brown eyes. I’m taking stock of this guy as if he’s competition. He’s
not
competition. I’m not in the running. At all. Nor should I be. And it’s not just the obvious, it’s that I have a whole life and job to try to get back together when I go home before I should even think about girls. This sucks.

I turn back around and try to focus on the happy fact that we ended up helping wi
th a youth activity, allowing my companion and I to do something we don’t often get to do. The ball is passed to me and I nail a three-point shot. Alright. This is okay. One of the kids passes me another.

“We should go,” Elder
Smitts says.

“What?” I stop with the ball under my arm.

“We should go. We have that movie to drop off to the Dean family and we need to be home before curfew so we can make calls for tomorrow.”

“
Yeah. You’re right.” I scan the room, but Jaycee’s nowhere to be seen. Odd. “I’m gonna hit the restroom before we take off.”

“
‘Kay.”

I walk down the hallway, blissfully alone. We really are together all the time. I get it, I see why it’s i
mportant, but after more than eighteen months of always having a shadow, it’s starting to get a little stifling.

I stop w
hen I reach the corner. I hear Jaycee’s voice and a man’s voice. Probably short, blond guy. Okay, he’s not
short
, short, but he’s shorter than me. I can call him short.

“I’m just not…” H
er voice is quiet and sounds stressed.

I hold my breath.

“Did I do something wrong, or…”

“No. And I know this is like the worse thing to say ever,
but it’s not you. I’m just not… I’m just not ready.” There’s so much sadness in her voice that the single sentence cracks and pulls at my heart. I feel like a bit of a jerk suddenly for the passing thoughts I’ve had about her.

I rest against the wall and listen.

“I don’t know what to do.” His voice is still quiet.

“I’m sorry, I…”

She shouldn’t be apologizing. I feel myself tense up.

“I know it’s been a long time and that I should be ready to move on, but I don’t feel it, not yet.”

I’m trying to picture her face. Her small thin lips pulled down in a sort of apologetic frown.

“Do you know when you’ll be ready?”

Now, it could just be me, but it seems like kind of a jerk-off thing to say.

“No.” It comes out a little sharp. I’m glad. She’s holding her ground. And
ohmygosh I need to walk away right now. My legs don’t move.

“I wish I did…
” She almost sounds like she’s crying. “It would make a lot of things easier, but I don’t know. I’m sorry, Jeremy. Again, it was really nice of you to drive all the way out here.”

“I guess.” He lets out a breath. “I guess call me if you change your mind.”

No one says anything, and I realize that I need to move. If either of them comes around the corner, it’ll be obvious I was listening in. I turn and walk back to the foyer where Elder Smitts is waiting.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Yep.” I follow him to the car, climb in and then remember I still have to pee.

11

JAYCEE

“What’s with all the cars?” I ask as Bridger and I step into the Allen’s house.

“The missionaries are here doing their Christmas calls.” Sharon smiles.

“Right.”
They get two phone calls home a year. It helps keep them focused on something other than missing home…aside from around those two calls a year. I hand up the chocolate cake Bridger and I baked after opening presents this morning. The rest of our Christmas day will be spent with the Allen’s. Kyla and Tom are in Utah house-shopping and visiting his family. It makes sense. I’m her only family here, and she knows I have the Allen’s. Still I miss her.

Bridger finds a chair with his Nintendo, and I’m almost sorry I got it for him. It might just add to the list of things I need to limit his time on.

Just as promised, the living room is filled with guys with nametags. I scan quickly for Worthen. He’s not here. I panic when I realize he might have been transferred, then I realize he’s probably on the phone. And then I further realize that I shouldn’t panic over the transfer of a missionary.

“I’ll be right back.” I run to the restroom. Mayb
e some cold water on my face will pull my brain back to where it should be.

As soon as I step into the
hallway bath, Elder Worthen’s voice travels through the wall.

As much as I know I should turn around and walk back out, I don’t. I sit on the edge of the tub and listen.

“…great to hear your voice too… Gage! Wow, man, you sound even older than last time we talked… Yeah, just a few more months left… I’ll be home in time to play ball with you this summer… You’re thinking of doing a mission? That’s awesome!”

His voice is deep and full of love and things it should be on a phone call home.
It’s silent for a moment.

“… Y
eah, Mom, it’s still there, but I’m okay…” His voice drops.

Wait, what did I miss? Is something wrong?

“… just being careful, or as careful as I can be. It shouldn’t be a big deal, right…? Only like four more months. I can do four more months, no matter who’s distracting me…” He chuckles.

Is he having a problem with a companion or something?

“… I will say that this is the first time that I’ve been at a point where I really want to come home…”

I feel the half-sadness of his comment in my chest. He still sounds determined. Guess it’s something they all do. At least they’re not off fighting a war. Well, not a physical one, anyway. I suddenly feel like a stalker or something for eavesdropping. I stand up and run the cold water just long enough to splash
some on my cheeks then stare at myself in the mirror for a moment.
Focus, Jaycee.

I stare at my feet, pull open the bathroom door and run into someone on my way out.

“Sorry.” I look up into Elder Worthen’s blue eyes and my breath catches. Something in me says
move
, but I can’t even look away.

“I can think of worse things.” He smiles, but it’s a small, soft smile, not the wide one I normally see from him.

I don’t even realize his hands are on my shoulders until they slide off, leaving a wave of warmth behind. And still I can’t say anything, and still I can’t move.

“You done yet?” Someone yells from the front.

He jumps, I jump, and he moves quickly away from me. What does that mean? Nothing? Something? Did his hands end up on me on purpose? Or because he was trying not to be run over? It’s the first time I’ve allowed myself the thought that he might feel some of what I do. How huge would that be?

“You okay, Jaycee?” Paul puts his arm around me.

I’m standing still in the hallway, alone. “Uh… yeah.” I nod. “I’m okay.” But not okay. What I wouldn’t do right now to be in a position where I could talk with Worthen, like normal people, just for a few minutes.

I rest my arm across Paul’s back and he pulls me
next to him like he always has as we walk into the living room.

“I’m ready for the next one.” He chuckles as he lets
me go. I step into the kitchen where Elder Worthen and Elder Smitts are sitting at the counter. Nerves flit through me at the thought of our brief moment in the hallway—real or imagined.

“How was your call home
?” I ask needing to think about something else. Anything.

“I’m home in a couple of week
s, but it was still nice. Makes me anxious.” Elder Smitts chuckles and pulls a cookie off a plate in front of him.

“And how about you?” I let my ey
es shift to Worthen. I want a clue as to what he was talking about. I want to know more about his family and his brother, Gage.

“Good.” But he doesn’t smile, just maintains. “It’s the first time since coming out here that I miss home.”

“What do you miss?” I ask before thinking.

He glances down briefly. “I miss my family, of course, but I’m also missing some of the freedoms I had before my mission.”

“Music? Movies?” I tease. The guys are always talking about what movies they’ve missed.

He runs a hand through his hair
and his eyes don’t meet mine. “No.” There’s another pause. “Neither.”

“Sorry.” So, so sorry because I finally feel like maybe, just maybe… it’s me. And I have to find away to be okay around him. Maybe he’ll be around here until he goes home? Maybe we’ll get time to learn more about one another or
something
.

“It’s alright. I really just have a little
over four months. Elder Smitts here takes off shortly, then I’ll get someone else in this area, and then I’m down to three months. I never thought, when I started, that I’d be counting down. I kind of didn’t want to be, you know?”

Counting down. I’ve done that.
“I can understand that. I counted down when Matt was gone, too. Both times…” I don’t see the room, the guys. All I can see is the post-it notes on the fridge. I’d write little things on each day.
100 days – made cookies, your favorite kind. 99 days – saw a small red fox with a baby. 98 days – watched Men In Black, I know how you love that movie. 97 days – spent all day missing you.
“I obviously didn’t make it to the end on his second tour.” And now that it’s out, I realize how personal it was. Wow. I suck in a breath because my chest fell in and I didn’t realize.

Sharon puts her arms around me from the side. My eyes catch
Worthen’s for a moment.

“Sorry.” His voice is a whisper.

“Come on.” Elder Smitts grabs his arm so they can join their group in the living room.

“You okay?” Sharon asks
after they leave.

“Yeah.” I nod. “I’m okay.”
My eyes burn with fresh tears. It hurts, but with it comes hope. There’s a little more of that each time. A little more hope that I won’t carry this around forever. Well, I will carry it around forever, but maybe it won’t weigh me down forever.

She kisses my temple and rubs her hand up and down my arm a few times.

“I don’t know where that came from,” I whisper.

“I’m always full of memories on this holiday.” She gives me one more squeeze before walking away.

I stand in her kitchen. I still have it, that spot of hope in my chest. It won’t be quenched. It won’t die. I tried to kill it for a while, when the news was still fresh, but it stuck. I still have a lot of life, a lot of things to do, and that’s a good thing. With that thought, I know right now, in this moment, that I’m going to follow Kyla to Utah. It nearly kills me to admit that I’m ready to let my life in Alaska go, but I think I am. If I’m not ready, I’m still going to try, and maybe the force of moving will simply make me ready.

The thought, the realization of leaving fills me and warms me, and I know I’ll be able to do it. No ma
tter how hard it is; I’ll be able to do it because I’m doing the right thing.

I close my eyes.
Thank you.