That Was Then... Read online

  Dear Tired,

  I can understand your frustration. But I can also understand your hesitancy to move out Here are my questions for you: 1) Is there another relative who you might live with during your last year of high school? 2) Or do you have a good friend with understanding parents who might let you stay with them? 3) If you really want to move out, do you have enough money for a rental deposit? 4) Have you estimated what it will cost each month, making a budget that includes things like rent, food, utilities, clothing, commuting costs, etc.? 5) Have you asked a school or church counselor for advice? B) Last but not least, have you told your mother how you feel—have you asked for her help in making this adjustment?

  I know that being on your own looks tempting right now, but it could end up being like jumping from the frying pan into the fire. Maybe you should do what you can to get yourself ready to move out (like saving and planning a budget) while you give yourself time to see whether or not your mom has made another mistake.

  Just Jamie

  Two

  Friday, September 8

  I just finished the first week of my senior year, and as far as academics go, I think it’s going to be easy breezy. I’ve already taken most of my requirements as well as several AP classes, and I could actually graduate early if I want. Not that I want to.

  The only reason I’m even thinking about this is because that’s what Natalie plans to do. She met with the academic counselor this week. And her new plan is to finish high school before the baby comes. Fortunately, like me, she’s taken almost all of her requirements, and by taking a full load of classes this term, as well as one night class at the community college, she can be done by Christmas.

  “Of course, I’ll come back and walk with my class for graduation,” she informed me at lunch the other day. “But I think it’s better to do it like this.”

  And while the selfish side of me wants to argue this point with her, I know she’s right. Unfortunately, the first week of her senior year has been anything but easy breezy. And despite the negative feelings I’ve harbored toward my best friend lately, I’m feeling really sorry about that and actually pretty defensive of her now.

  Naturally the word’s leaking out. Okay, it’s more like a dam that has burst wide open. By the end of this week, the only people who don’t know about the pregnancy and upcoming marriage of Nat and Ben must be living under a stone. But the comments I’ve overheard and the looks I’ve observed—toward Nat, not Ben—have been nothing short of downright mean and cruel.

  The weird and sad thing is how quickly our classmates put their own spin on this regrettable story. Acting like Nat got pregnant on purpose, like it’s her way to catch poor Benjamin O’Conner. Like Ben is some innocent, unsuspecting victim who got pulled into Natalie’s diabolical scheme. Give me a break!

  It doesn’t help matters that Ben seems to be avoiding Nat. He told her he’s just trying to lay low until the news dies down. Poor Ben. I really do feel sorry for him too. Life as he knew it is pretty much over now. He doesn’t get to play sports this year, and although he acts like it’s no big deal, I know it’s got to hurt. He’s been such a jock in the past. Nat said he’s thinking about graduating early too, although he doesn’t have quite the academic record Nat has and will need to take more community college classes.

  To make matters worse, some kids are throwing Natalie’s religion in her face, making fun of her for messing up, even calling her a hypocrite. Some do it behind her back. Some to her face.

  “I hate this school!” Nat slams the door of my Jeep. It’s Friday afternoon, and as usual, I’m giving her a ride home.

  “Give them time,” I say. I want to tell her not to take it out on poor Daisy (my Jeep), but considering her mood I think better of this. “In a week or so, they’ll have something new to gossip about.”

  “I can’t wait to get out of here,” she says as I pull out of the school parking lot. “For good.”

  I don’t tell her that I’m feeling slightly abandoned by this announcement. Or remind her that when she leaves school, she’s leaving me too. Of course, I could easily graduate early myself. But I was actually hoping to finish this year in style. And it’s no secret that I have a chance at being valedictorian. Not that it’s such a big thing. But I do remember how Mom always thought I would get it. And I guess I’d like to do it for her. Graduating early would wipe out those chances.

  “How’s Ben doing?” I ask, hoping to change the subject to something she likes better. But she just shrugs.

  “Everything okay with you two?”

  Again with the shrug. “We haven’t talked much lately.”

  “I don’t mean to be intrusive,” I say, “but if you’re getting married in, what, like two weeks? Well, shouldn’t you two be talking?”

  And then Nat bursts into tears.

  Oh, great. I try not to be too distracted as I navigate my way through traffic. I mean, getting in a wreck won’t help matters. Finally I decide to stop at the mini mart and get us both a cold drink. I ask her what she wants and then go inside to get it, relieved to be away from her for a few minutes.

  As I wait at the cash register, I try to figure out something to say to her. I mean, Nat knows that underneath my maid-of-honor good attitude (well, for the most part) I seriously question this marriage. But I also know that it’s not my life, not my decision. And I can’t exactly go out there and tell her she’s making a huge mistake. Still, I can’t help but think I should be willing to say something.

  “Here’s your change,” the woman tells me.

  I thank her and pick up the drinks, and as I walk back outside I silently pray. I ask God to give me words for Nat—whether they’re words of encouragement or warning, that they will be wrapped in love. I want to be willing to be used however God would use me.

  “Here you go,” I say cheerfully as I hand her a drink.

  “Thanks.” Nat gives me a wet-looking smile. “Sorry about that. I mean, losing it with you. I guess emotions can get a little whacked out when you’re pregnant.”

  “No, it’s okay,” I say as I get in. “And you must be under a lot of stress too. There’s a lot going on in your life.”

  She nods and takes a sip. “You got that right. And hearing all the snide remarks at school this week, well, it doesn’t make things any easier.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Okay, I’m trying to be understanding, trying to hear what God would have me say to my friend.

  “And then there’s my mom…”

  “What’s up there?”

  “It’s like she’s going to be mad at me forever.” Nat sniffs. “I mean, she’s supposed to be a Christian, but honestly, I don’t feel much forgiveness from that woman.”

  “Oh…”

  And Nat goes on and on, finally settling on Ben. “He missed our premarriage counseling appointment with Pastor Tony last night.” She starts to cry again. “And he hasn’t talked to me all day.” She turns and looks at me. “Do you think he’s changed his mind?”

  Okay, I’m sorry, but I start to feel a tiny bit hopeful just now. Although I try not to show it. “I don’t know…”

  “What would I do, Kim?” Her eyes are wide with fear now. “If he backed out, I mean? What would I do?”

  I consider my answer. “Well…you know that I happen to think adoption is a pretty good option for some children.”

  I can tell she’s about to get mad at me, to overreact, but then it’s like she’s trying to control herself too. She just slowly nods. “Yeah, it’s worked out okay for you.”

  “Okay?” I echo. “I think it’s been great. I mean, consider the alternatives. I could’ve remained in an impoverished Korean orphanage. Or worse yet, what if my mother had kept me and what if she was a hooker and what if I’d been forced to grow up in some horrible—”

  “I’m not a hooker, Kim.”

  “That’s not what I mean. But seriously, Nat, how hard would it be to be a teen mom, barely finished with high school and trying to raise a baby
and support yourself totally on your own?”

  She looks down at her drink. “I know…”

  Although I know it could get me in trouble, I decide to take the next step. “And it wasn’t that long ago that you wanted to get rid of the baby completely. Remember? But wouldn’t it be much braver of you, and much better for the baby, to allow some really good parents, people who have a good home and money and everything, to raise this child?”

  I can tell she’s thinking about this, but she doesn’t say anything.

  “I know that I’m really thankful my birth mother did that much for me. And my parents were thankful too.”

  Now she sits up straighter, and I can see this look in her eyes, this look that’s slightly hard and cold and somewhat calculated. “Ben promised to marry me. He said he wants to be a father to our baby. He knows it’s the right thing to do.” She pushes her hair out of her face. “And that’s what’s going to happen. Even if it looks bad and dark right now, I know God is going to work this out for good. I just need to have faith, Kim. And that’s what I plan to do.”

  Well, that seems to end our conversation, which is a good thing since it’s getting pretty hot in the Jeep now. So I start up the engine and drive us home in a silence so thick I can feel it pressing against me.

  “Thanks for the ride,” she says in a stiff voice as I stop in front of her house.

  “No problem.” Then I drive a couple houses down to my house, get out of my Jeep, and now I slam the door. Poor Daisy.

  There’s a message from Caitlin on our answering machine. She’s helping me plan Nat’s bridal shower, which is supposed to be at my house, but at the moment I’m not feeling too enthusiastic about it. Even so, I call Caitlin back. And I guess she senses that all’s not well by the edgy tone of my voice.

  “I’m sorry, but I just dropped Nat at home and she’s making me crazy.”

  “What’s up?”

  Since Caitlin and I have already discussed this, and since she’s Ben’s sister and has promised me confidentiality, I feel fairly safe telling her. Without going into all the gory details, I admit that I still think this marriage is a great big mistake. I also tell her how I probably offended Nat by bringing up the adoption option again. “I really blew it.”

  “You shouldn’t feel sorry about that,” Caitlin says. “And Nat should respect your advice.”

  “I’m worried about her,” I finally say. “The scariest part of this whole thing is the way she believes that if they get married—or as she says, ‘do the right thing’— they’ll automatically be blessed and live happily ever after. Like God is going to miraculously make everything wonderful. But I think it’s going to be hard. Really hard. Their chances of making a marriage work are pretty slim. And if it doesn’t work…well, where does that leave Nat? She’ll be stuck with a baby and nothing more than a high school diploma. Where do you go from there?”

  “I know…”

  “You do?”

  “I’ve got an idea, Kim.”

  “What?”

  “Oh, it might be crazy. But it just might be a good wake-up call for Nat too.”

  Then she tells me about one of her high school friends and how this girl got married when she was just a little older than Nat and under some very similar circumstances.

  “That first year was really hard on Anna and Joel,” she continues. “And they’ve struggled ever since. They just had their second baby in June, and shortly after that, well, Joel decided to call it quits. He left Anna a couple months ago. According to Anna, it’s hopeless. She sounds fairly certain that they’ll be divorced before Christmas.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  “I know. It’s really sad. And Anna’s so sweet and so smart. But she’s so stuck too. She never finished college either. She worked to support them while Joel finished up and finally graduated. Anna’s working at a restaurant now.”

  “So what’s your idea?”

  “Anna just moved back to town last month, and I thought maybe we could take Nat to visit her. Let Nat see for herself how something like this can turn out.”

  “Do you really think it’ll work?” Okay, I’m thinking this sounds like a good plan, but how will we get Nat to go along with it? Won’t she know that it’s a setup from the get-go?

  “This is how we’ll present it. I’ll tell Natalie that Anna’s a young mom too, that she’s just moved back to town and doesn’t really know any other young moms around here, and that I want to introduce them. I’ll also ask Nat to encourage Anna to come back to church. She used to go to Faith Fellowship, but now she doesn’t go anywhere. She says she’s too busy.”

  “That’ll be perfect,” I say. “Give Nat a mission to get Anna to church, and she’ll be all over it.”

  “Okay. Maybe we can even pull this off tomorrow. I’ll give Anna a call tonight and see how her schedule looks.”

  “Great. Let me know.”

  “And how about I just e-mail you the list of names and phone numbers of the ladies for the shower,” Caitlin says finally. “You’ll want to call them ASAP if we’re going to do the shower by next weekend.”

  “Maybe things will change by then. Maybe we won’t need a bridal shower after all.”

  “Better be prepared just in case,” she warns me.

  Even so, I decide that I also better keep the receipts for anything I get for the shower (other than perishable items, and I’ll wait until the last minute to get those anyway) so that if Natalie should come to her senses, I’ll be ready to return everything. A girl can hope. I’ve already saved the receipt from my dress, and as much as I hate returning anything, I’d happily become the Queen of Returns if it meant Natalie avoided making what I think will be the biggest mistake of her life. Okay, maybe the second biggest mistake.

  Dear Jamie,

  My best friend doesn’t want to be friends anymore. When I call her, she hangs up. When I try to talk to her at school, she just snubs me. I don’t know what’s wrong, but it’s really hurting my feelings. On top of this, she’s started gossiping about me behind my back. I’m so mad at her that I’m thinking about getting even. I could tell everyone some things about her. Like how she used to wet the bed. I know that sounds mean, but that’s how she’s treating me. What should I do?

  Fighting Mad

  Dear FM,

  You need to get to the bottom of this and find out why your friend is angry at you. If you honestly can’t think of anything you did to hurt her, you need to come up with a way to talk to her. Why don’t you write her a note, telling her how badly you feel and asking her what it is that went wrong and if she could make time to talk to you? And if that doesn’t work, I suggest you just move on. Find a new friend. And, for sure, do NOT tell anyone about your friend’s old secrets. Besides hurting her, it will make you look like a bad friend.

  Just Jamie

  Three

  Sunday, September 10

  Caitlin, Nat, and I went to visit Anna after church today. And it was pretty strange. At one point, I wished I’d bowed out of this weird little scheme altogether. But on the other hand, I guess I was glad to see what Anna’s life is really like. Not that I’m planning on getting married and having kids anytime soon, but just as a point of reference.

  Anna was really nice. And I could tell she was hurting. But it was sweet of her to let us into her world. I suspect that Caitlin had explained the circumstances beforehand. Even so, I’m not sure I could’ve been as transparent as Anna was. If I were in her shoes, I mean.

  She and her mom (who, according to Caitlin, is actually her grandmother) share this tiny apartment that’s not in a very nice part of town. And although Anna knew we were coming, it didn’t look like much effort had gone into straightening things up. But then her kids are pretty small and into everything, and I suppose she was tired from work. Or maybe she just wanted to shock Natalie. Not a bad idea, really.

  “Come in,” she tells us as she opens the door. She’s holding a baby who’s crying, and a toddler is cling
ing to her leg. “This is Hannah.” She nods down at the little girl with the same mocha-colored skin as her mother. She leads us through the cramped and cluttered space. “And this is Ruthie.” She holds the fussing baby out for us to see.

  “Oh! She is so sweet. May I hold her?”

  Anna smiles at Caitlin and hands the baby over. “Most definitely.”

  Then Caitlin introduces us to Anna. “Like I said on the phone, Natalie’s going to be my new sister-in-law, and her baby is due in January. Kim is her best friend.”

  “Sit down.” Anna removes a laundry basket and some toys from the couch. “I would’ve cleaned up, but I worked the late shift last night, and then Ruthie was fussy all night, and well…”

  “Don’t apologize,” Caitlin says.

  “Yeah,” I agree. “It looks like you have your hands full.”

  She nods. “My mom and I both work. We alternate our shifts so we can take turns watching the girls.”

  “That must be hard.” Caitlin gently jiggles Ruthie, soothing her fussiness as if she really knows how to do this. And then I remember that she has worked at an orphanage in Mexico. I guess that gave her some experience.

  “Not as hard as when I had to do it on my own,” Anna admits. Hannah has crawled into her mom’s lap now, snuggling up as if to show us that she belongs there. It’s really kind of sweet. “When Joel was in school and I was working, I had to do pretty much everything myself.”

  “Joel didn’t help?” Caitlin asks.

  Anna just laughs, but there’s a bitter edge to it. “Unfortunately for me, Joel’s one of those old-school guys—thinking the little woman should take care of the kids, the house, all that sort of thing.”

  Caitlin shakes her head. “Too bad.”

  Now I notice how Nat’s not saying anything. In fact, she looks a bit like that proverbial deer in the headlights. Does she see her life flashing before her eyes?

  “What are your plans?” Caitlin asks. “I mean, like going back to school?”