Dwelling Places (28 page)

“How's everything going out there?” she asks. Her son looks happy.

“Fine. They got here about an hour ago. Sharon is so tall I hardly recognized her.”

“It'll be so good to see the kids.” Rita nears tearfulness but sucks back the lump that's rising. “How does Marty look?”

“Good. She looks real good. She brought a friend.”

Rita looks at him, and he clarifies. “A guy she's been dating for a few months. Name's Joe. Seems like a nice guy.”

Rita stares at the snowy tracks ahead of them. She's not prepared for this. Her first response is protest. This is a
family
event, after all.

As if he senses her conflict, Mack adds, “And the kids seem to like him a lot.”

“Really? That's good.”

“Yeah. I think you'll like him. I get a good sense off him.”

Rita takes in as full a breath as she can. More adjustments. More changes slapping up against them all.

They walk into a kitchen full of people; Jodie is handing dishes to any pair of hands available, and Marty emerges from the dining room. She comes across the kitchen immediately and throws her arms around Rita.

“Rita, you look so good!” The words come out close to Rita's ear. Unlike Jodie, Marty never got into the habit of calling Rita “Mom.” But the affection in her voice now is unmistakable. Finally, the grasp loosens, and Rita stands back to look at her former daughter-in-law. Her hair is a different shade, lighter, and she's put on a bit of weight, which is good, because she was always so thin. She's wearing a bright holiday sweater and makeup. Just then she is pushed aside, and “little” Sharon comes forward. She is now taller than Rita, and her resemblance to Alex makes Rita draw in a sharp breath.

“Hi, Grandma! Merry Christmas!”

“Hi, Grandma!” David is standing beside his sister. He is two years older and two inches taller, long and lean like Rita's own sons but bearing the eyes and smile of his mother. Rita hugs and kisses each child in turn, aware that she's teary-eyed but not worrying about that. The room is so bright that she can hardly bear it—all her family in one place and each person smiling. Young Taylor is dressed normally for once. He comes up and kisses Rita's cheek, then takes her coat. Kenzie comes by quickly for a hug before returning to help Jodie.

Jodie calls out, “Merry Christmas, Mom,” and glances across the room. Rita makes a point to smile at her and return the greeting.

“Rita, I want you to meet Joe Bernard,” Marty says. A tall man with thinning blond hair and a friendly face comes forward and grasps Rita's hand.

“Pleasure to meet you.”

Marty continues. “He teaches computer science at the community college where I've taken classes.”

So. She met him at school. Well, that's not a bad place to meet people. Better than a bar. And he does have a wonderful face—handsome enough but full of other things too. Rita feels better right away. She had feared that she would be angry at seeing another man where her own son used to be. But at this moment it is clear that her son Alex is now part of family history. And this man has stepped in to carry on life. In fact, Rita's usual holiday blues don't feel present at all today. Two miles down the road, her husband and son lie under headstones in the rough winter ground. She can hold that thought without feeling its full force for once. It is Christmas, and her remaining children and grandchildren are here, in this house. She is glad that it's time to eat, because she feels the need to sit down. So much is hitting her senses, inside and out. She dares to identify the beating in her heart as joy.

As they pass dishes and fill the room with conversation, Rita doesn't say much. She watches each person and does her best to soak it all in. Mack was right: David and Joe trade jokes as if they have been friends for years. They gang up on Sharon, who is quite capable of defending herself. It causes Rita pain to see how healthy Marty is now; she had to get away from Alex and his alcoholism to find life. Years ago, Rita admitted to herself that Alex was tearing his family apart. But it is hard to see the truth of that confirmed in how well his wife and children are doing now, having put distance and death between him and them.

Jodie appears to have made the same resolution as Rita. She acts as if nothing horrendous has happened and talks with Rita the same as always. She and Mack relate easily today, maybe because the holiday and the houseguests have absorbed their attention. But Rita imagines
that Mack looks across the table at his wife with true affection. She imagines that Jodie pats his back as she walks by on her way to the kitchen.

She imagines that they sit together on the loveseat as if they want to be there. Two hours after dinner they have all moved to the living room, where a very large Scotch pine sparkles in front of the picture window. Kenzie and Young Taylor pass out the gifts. Jodie has mulled some cider and made more coffee. She and Rita take lids off the Christmas tins and urge everyone to try this and that. The fact that half of the treats are not homemade doesn't matter. Such a thing would have bothered Rita a few years ago, but she is content that her fudge tin gets visited more than anything else.

Kenzie

It is perhaps the most important evening of her life so far. Kenzie stands in front of the mirror that hangs on the back of her bedroom door, and she studies herself more intently than she ever has. She wears a velour dress that buttons all the way down the front. It is deep purple, almost black in places. The sleeves are long and have three pearl buttons on each cuff. Mom found the dress at a sidewalk sale in Ottumwa last February. It cost next to nothing because of a seam that was noticeably crooked, what should have been a factory reject. Mom took care of that, although it meant resetting the entire dress from the waist down. It reaches Kenzie at midcalf, and so she wears her knee-high black boots, having polished them earlier in the day. She also set her hair, which she usually doesn't do. She wears the glittery earrings that Sharon gave her for Christmas. In fact, Sharon helped with her hair.

Downstairs, Dad and Joe are discussing basketball. It's weird to hear Dad talk about sports, but he doesn't often have another guy around—Young Taylor does not count when it comes to so many guy things—and her father's voice makes Kenzie's throat ache. He's acted so happy and healthy this Christmas; is it too good to be true?

She can't hear Mom and Aunt Marty, because they are off in Mom and Dad's bedroom, at the far end of the hall. Mom is going through the clothes she can't wear anymore—mainly jeans and shirts and other work clothes. Now that Marty has gained some weight, she is a mere size smaller than Mom, who has outgrown some things in the past year or two. Kenzie is sure that they are using the closed door to shield their conversation; after all, Aunt Marty has a boyfriend now.

Kenzie tries not to dwell on the fact that her aunt is sleeping with a man she's not married to. Of course, nobody comes right out and says that this is happening, but when older men and women hang out for months, they're not just dating. Mom seems so happy for Aunt Marty, and Grandma Rita acts as if this new relationship is fine with her.

It irritates Kenzie that Young Taylor has turned normal for now and the Omaha relatives act as if he's a great kid. Maybe they don't know anything about his Goth act or his getting kicked out of school. At any rate, David, who looks as normal as guys get, has hung out with Young Taylor the whole time. They sit in Young Taylor's room and listen to music, and David talks about Omaha and Young Taylor talks about Des Moines; they both talk about how lame their schools are. Their voices sometimes rise and drift across the hallway.

Sharon and Aunt Marty have shared the double bed of the spare room across the hall. Joe has bedded down in the family room, and David slept in there on the floor in his sleeping bag one night but last night fell asleep on the floor in Young Taylor's room. Kenzie offered her bedroom to Grandma Rita—none of them wanted her to spend the holiday alone at her house, even just overnight—but she is content to sleep in the living room on the sofa, in the glow of the Christmas tree. Kenzie is thankful that her own space has not been encroached upon. Sharon is really nice, but Kenzie sees right away that they are now from completely different worlds. When Sharon and David lived here, she and Kenzie did a lot of faith-related things together, but Sharon's present involvement with God is the minimum church attendance, and she has not picked up on any of Kenzie's comments meant to explore her
spiritual state. Kenzie stays out among their houseguests as much as seems necessary but has retreated several times to her room. She can't manage to get to the church for her regular prayer time, so she simply prays in her room and hopes that no one knocks on the door.

But tonight everything could change. She is singing in the Christmas pageant at the Baptist church. Jenna is reading a poem, Trent is reading the Christmas story from Luke's Gospel, and Kenzie will sing a solo at the end, “O Holy Night.” And after she sings, the pastor will lead the congregation in carols, and the last carol will be “O Come, All Ye Faithful,” which will be the altar call. Reverend Darnelle believes that people should have the opportunity to turn to God during any service, even special holiday worship.

Her whole family will be there. This could be the night of battle, and of victory. It could be that God has brought her family to this very night in order to work miracles in their hearts. She imagines them walking up the aisle one by one, and the pastor praying with them. She imagines hugging each one afterwards, telling them how much she has prayed and how happy she is that God has touched them.

Mitchell will be there too.

He was unsure at first. Sometimes his worst battles are at church, as if Satan chooses that place to torment him the most. But two days ago he told Kenzie, “The Lord told me that you'll need my support. So I'll be there, Kenzie. I'll probably sit in the back, but I'll be singing every word right with you.”

She stares at the young woman in purple, who smiles back at her from the mirror. She has finally come to the place where God wants her. And she can say with all honesty that she is beautiful tonight.

The church is full, warm, and noisy before the service begins. Then the lights go down, except for candles in the windows and dim lights over the altar. The crowd grows quiet. Kenzie's family is seated in two rows halfway back on the east side of the sanctuary. As she sits by the piano, with the rest of the choir, she looks at each loved one and prays silently for the Holy Spirit to move.

The service goes along slowly: the opening hymns, the prayers and welcome, the children acting out the Nativity as Trent reads. Trent's voice is more irritating than ever. He's trying to be deep-toned like a preacher. Kenzie notices Young Taylor and David smirking at him. She wishes Pastor Williamson were reading; he has such an intelligent yet friendly kind of voice.

Then the choir performs a special Christmas medley, and Jenna reads her poem, and Reverend Darnelle preaches a sermon that is shorter than usual. That doesn't cause him to be any less enthusiastic or evangelistic. He's possibly at his best tonight. Kenzie watches Mom and Dad, who are attentive, then Grandma Rita, who looks tired and uncomfortable. Aunt Marty and Joe are listening politely, and Sharon is not paying attention at all; she seems to be paging through the hymnal. Young Taylor is unusually focused, but on the candles to his left, and David appears to be counting the blocks in the suspended ceiling. Kenzie keeps praying.

She turns her gaze for about the twentieth time to Mitchell, who sits in the back pew near the gas heater, hair neatly combed, looking so handsome she can't stand it. He wears a dark green sweater over black slacks. He has sung with gusto through the entire service, listened to every word, and bowed his head deeply for every prayer. Twice now he has winked at Kenzie and raised his hands slightly from his lap; they are pressed together prayerfully.

Suddenly the sermon is over and the pastor says, “Before our final hymn tonight, we have a very special treat. Kenzie Barnes is going to sing for us.” He turns toward Kenzie and the pianist, and Kenzie stands, feeling as if the universe were swirling around her.

She has memorized the song, but it takes all her concentration to sing, and so she reads the music in her hands, which are shaking slightly. The one or two times she looks up, it's her father's eyes that catch her. They are glistening, and he smiles at her the way he used to when she'd show a calf at the fair, leading it to the center of the circle and hoping it would come willingly rather than making her pull at its halter and reins and making a mess of things. No matter where she
looked, it seemed that Dad was right there, his face saying it all:
You can do it, sweetheart. It'll be fine.

She finishes the song, and the congregation applauds, and she's too overwhelmed to look at anybody. As the congregation stands to sing the invitation hymn, she kicks herself for not looking at each member of her family while she sang. She should have made some eye contact at least.

But the invitation has begun now, and she can't be distracted by her own performance. She sings with the choir, facing the crowd, and at every line, she looks up at those middle two rows. Through the first two verses there are no signs of response; they're just standing there, singing. Young Taylor and David aren't singing at all, but whispering to each other. Kenzie sings the third verse, her eyes glued to Mom and Dad. She shifts them to Grandma Rita. Aunt Marty and Joe are singing but look ready to be somewhere else now. Sharon reads off of their hymnal and joins in halfheartedly. It seems that the only people who might respond to the Holy Spirit are her parents and grandma.

She sings the fourth verse, willing her father to move out from the pew and walk down the aisle to the altar. She wills her mother to follow him. She pictures Grandma Rita sitting in the pew to pray. But they all just stand there and sing. Daddy's eyes are no longer glistening. Mom's eyes don't leave the hymnal.