Becoming Me Read online

  I honestly don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive him for all this—not to mention he has totally lost my respect forever!

  I’ve got to change the subject or I am just going to totally explode and go splatting across my room in tiny little pieces. Take a deep breath, Caitlin, just relax now, calm down.

  Okay, well at least something good happened to me today. When I got to school this morning, Jenny was waiting by my locker. And to my surprise, she just threw her arms around me and apologized. Well, I was so shocked I almost fell over. And stupidly enough, I got a little teary-eyed. But then I’ve been under a lot of strain lately. She said, “I’m sorry I was such a total idiot yesterday. I was just all worried about what was going on between me and Josh.” I nodded and said it was okay and that I was sorry too. Then without thinking I blurted out what was going on with my parents and how it had me all stressed out. At first I thought it was a big mistake, but Jenny was actually quite understanding and sympathetic.

  She pointed out that my dad was probably just going through a midlife crisis and that he’d get over it eventually, and that everything would be back to normal before I knew it. With honest skepticism, I asked her how she could be so sure, and she said that the exact same thing had happened to her parents about a year ago, and that everything worked itself out, and that, by the way, was why her mom got that slick new BMW for Christmas and, of course, why Jenny now has her own car.

  “Just think,” she said with her usual confidence. “By summer you might be driving your mom’s car.” Well, I had to laugh at that one. But it’s something to hope for. Anyway, I’ll try to take Jenny’s advice and not get too worried about the whole thing. Although I have to admit I’ve even been feeling sorry for Benjamin lately (he’s been acting kind of strange and I think the whole thing is pretty hard on him too), and as a result I was actually nice to him this morning and let him have the last bowl of Cheerios.

  Friday, February 16 (something’s happening here)

  A really weird thing happened tonight, actually a couple of weird things. But one in particular that I don’t even know what to make of. Anyway, after the game a bunch of us went over to Jenny’s house. It wasn’t a party or anything, although her parents weren’t there, and she did get into their bar which they assume always remains locked up when they’re away, but they don’t realize she has her own key! But no one was really getting drunk or anything wild like I’ve seen at some of the other parties. Instead we were just sitting around talking and stuff, acting fairly adult.

  So, the first weird thing that happened tonight, was that I actually had a drink. Okay, let me tell you why. I figure that if my dad can preach at me about how to live my life so perfectly and everything, and then he goes off and does—well whatever it is he’s doing—then why in the world should I listen to, or even respect, a single word he has to say? I mean, it’s not like I plan on going totally crazy and becoming some wild child—I know that would be incredibly stupid. I figure, what’s one drink going to hurt? Besides it didn’t even taste good!

  But here’s the second weird thing, and this one’s really got me wondering. When it was time to clear out (because Jenny’s parents were supposed to be getting back from their movie any minute), Josh offered to drop me off on his way home. Well, now that Josh and Jenny seem to be doing okay (and I try and repress any feelings—good or bad—that I have for him), I thought, sure, why not? Jenny didn’t seem to mind a bit, she mostly just wanted to get everyone out of there before her parents got back. So Josh drives me home. And we talk as he drives and suddenly I’m thinking, man, this is the guy I always thought he was. I mean, he sounds all smart and thoughtful, and I almost forget that he is actually going with Jenny.

  Then at my house, we’re sitting out in front talking about (I kid you not) world peace. And suddenly he leans over towards me, and I swear he’s about to kiss me! Well, I am so shocked that I pull away, jump right out of the Jeep, and dash into the house (real mature, I know). But Jenny is practically my best friend now, and we already had one big blowout that left me feeling pretty miserable, and now she’s being all understanding about my parents and everything. So, how could I do that to her?

  But, let me be truthful, as soon as I was in the house, I wanted to turn around and get back in the car, and take it right from where we left off. Of course, his little Jeep was completely out of sight by then. For which, I’m sure, I should be very thankful. But what in the world was that all about? And how do I act the next time I see him? And, of course, I can never tell Jenny. Now I’m starting to wonder if I didn’t just imagine the whole thing in the first place. I know I have (what Beanie used to call) a hyperactive imagination. And then how embarrassing would that be? I mean, for me just to leap out of his car without any explanation, and without even thanking him for bringing me home, and all he was going to do was open the door for me or something.

  But I don’t really think it was my imagination. He had a certain look on his face (at least I think he did). And now I’ll probably dream about him and that old crush thing will start up all over again. Oh brother!

  Saturday, February 17 (clearing the air)

  My dad came home today. Apparently it wasn’t his first time to drop in. Mom told me that he’d already been by while we were away at school to pick up some clothes and things. According to Mom, he’s been staying with his friend, Brad Schielbert, at work. Although I wonder if he might actually be staying with Belinda (whoever she is—and for some reason, I keep imagining her as this flashy little brunette who wears way too much makeup).

  My dad wanted to sit down and talk to Ben and me about everything while he was here. Mom had already left the house by then; I think they had worked the whole thing out ahead of time. Anyway, I sat like a stone on the sofa while Dad explained that he had reached a difficult place in his life where he needed some time and space to figure some things out. (Yeah sure, I thought, you just need some time and space to be with your beloved Belinda, you big, old hypocrite! But I kept silent.)

  Ben asked some questions, and I could tell by his voice he was almost crying. Poor Ben, I think this is even going to be harder on him than it is on me—I mean, at least I only have a year and a half at home before I go off to college. But Ben’s only twelve. I’m sure my dad could tell by my sour expression that I wasn’t taking this whole thing real well, and when he was all finished talking, he turned to me and said, “Are you going to be okay with all this?”

  Then I just looked him straight in the eye and said, “Do you really care?”

  Of course, he said he did. And then I told him if he wanted to hear what I thought, he’d better hear it in private. I think this surprised him a little. Then he asked if we both wanted to go have lunch with him. I told him no thanks, but maybe he should take Ben. And while Ben went upstairs to get his coat, in a very controlled voice, I told Dad that I knew all about Belinda. And furthermore, I told him that I thought he was a liar and a hypocrite and that I no longer respected anything he had to say about church or Christianity or anything for that matter. Then I turned and ran up the stairs before he could say anything. And what, I ask, could he possibly say to that?

  But at least I got it off my chest. Then I threw myself across my bed and cried really hard for a long, long time.

  So, why did God let this happen to us? I mean, here my family’s been going along just fine—all things considered, we were doing pretty well—going to church sometimes and sticking together all these years without any great, big problems. So, why this? Why now? I just don’t get it. And frankly, it just doesn’t seem fair.

  SEVEN

  Sunday, February 18 (picking up the pieces)

  For the second Sunday in a row, we didn’t go to church today. Not that I really care. I think if God turned his back on us, then we might as well turn our backs on him too. Do you think I could be struck by lightning for writing something like that? Oh well, it might be for the best since I just seem to be making a perfect mess of everything a
nyway.

  Okay, here’s what happened. Last night I was feeling pretty grumpy. For one thing, there was nothing to do, and Jenny hadn’t called all day, and I didn’t call her because I’m still feeling guilty about what Josh tried (at least I think he tried) the other night. So anyway, I was just hanging around being your basic grump and naturally ended up having a fight with my little brother, who was acting like a total moron and had just made this huge mess in the bathroom that we have to share and I thought he should clean up (what I wouldn’t do for my own bathroom like Jenny has).

  Anyway, Mom actually had to come in and break us apart (Ben’s almost as tall as me now and was getting a little carried away). It was pretty embarrassing to need Mom’s help in fending off my little brother (and I seriously doubt that I’ll be engaging in any more tangles like that with him real soon). I did feel slightly bad ’cause I know Ben’s pretty upset about all this crud with Dad.

  Well as a result, Mom took me into her room to talk, saying all this stuff about how she really needed my help right now, and how I had to take more responsibility and everything. I told her I would try. Then she asked how our talk had gone with my dad today. Well, I couldn’t look her in the eye and answer honestly, so I just said “it went okay.” Then she was acting all understanding and compassionate towards Dad, saying that we just needed to be patient and allow him this time to figure things out.

  Well, that was just too much! So I said, “What are you talking about? Are you going to just sit around here waiting while he figures things out with Belinda?” And it was like I had slapped here across the face. The expression of pain that came in her eyes was more than I could stand to look at, as she asked in a shaky voice, “Who’s Belinda?”

  And then, of course, I just burst into tears and told her the whole sorry story. I mean, what am I supposed to do—she’s my mom for crud’s sake!

  Now talk about a really bad scene. My mom just totally fell to pieces at this bit of news. And I didn’t know what to do. Should I call 911? Grandma? No, I decided, this is a job for Aunt Stephie—she’s the expert in the area of broken hearts. Thank goodness Steph was home,and she bundled up baby Oliver and rushed right over. As penance I baby-sat Oliver all night while Stephie took Mom out to talk. I don’t know where they went, but they didn’t get home until late. And Stephie ended up spending the night and most of the day today. But I must admit, it’s good to have her here and I don’t even mind helping with Oliver (who is just starting to walk and is getting into everything and has just about totally demolished my entire room!).

  But here’s something unexpected—Aunt Stephie actually wanted us to go to church this morning! At first we thought she was kidding—I mean, this is Stephie the “wild child” as my dad used to call her. And now she’s trying to get us to go to church. Mom explained she didn’t really want to go to church without Dad and have to tell everyone what was going on. But then, wonder of wonders, Stephie says, “No, I meant you should come to my church.”

  And so, it turns out, that Aunt Stephie has begun going to church of all things! I guess someone at the bank, where she works as a teller, invited her around Christmastime to this new church that’s meeting in one of the grade schools. And Stephie dressed Oliver up in a little suit and just went. And she said the people there are all very real and that it was nothing like any church she’s ever been to before (apparently they have a band that plays with drums and electric guitars and everything), and she’s been going pretty regularly ever since. Well, you just never know! But just the same, we weren’t in the mood for church this morning, and Mom told her maybe next week, and Stephie said she’s holding us to it.

  February 21, Wednesday (confusing confessions)

  So far this week’s been fairly uneventful. Stephie has been over at our house a lot, and she and Mom seem closer than ever before. This takes a big load off of me, and even Ben seems to be adjusting a little better now. He announced today that he’s going to try out for the sixth-grade baseball team, and seems pretty happy about it.

  My dad called to talk to me yesterday evening. I almost hung up, then decided to hear what he had to say. Naturally, he asked me how I knew about Belinda, and I told him about the bracelet. Then he had the audacity to say that he has not been unfaithful to my mom. So I said, “What do you mean?”

  And then there was this long silence and finally he said. “I haven’t had an actual affair with Belinda yet.” It was the yet that caught me.

  “Then you’re considering it?” I said accusingly. Another long silence.

  “I want to be honest with you, Catie,” he said. “Yes, I’ve been thinking about it.” I didn’t know whether to believe him or not—whether to yell at him or simply hang up? But somehow I managed to stay on the line.

  “Well, isn’t there a verse in the Bible that says if you think about something, it’s just like actually doing it?” (I could hardly believe I came up with that line, but all those years of going to church shouldn’t be for nothing!) He coughed slightly, kind of like he choked on something. Then I continued. “You know you used to give me all those stupid talks about boys and dating and all that crud—and the whole time you were off thinking about cheating on your wife!”

  Now I was just waiting for him to hang up on me. But surprisingly, he didn’t. Instead he said, “I guess I deserve that.” His voice sounded so sad that I almost felt sorry for my harsh words. Almost.

  Then I said, “So, Dad, if you haven’t cheated yet, what’s stopping you?” I couldn’t believe we were even having this conversation. I mean, when had everything changed so drastically; when had the earth shifted on its axis?

  “I don’t know,” he answered quietly. “I’m just trying to figure it all out—I don’t want to destroy everything—”

  “Do you still love Mom?” I demanded.

  “I think so, but I don’t know…”

  Then I thought again of all that church stuff and his Bible study friends. “Do you still believe in God and all that crud you used to go on and on about—or are you trying to figure all that out too?”

  His voice grew stern now. “It’s not crud, Caitlin. Just because I’m having some trials right now doesn’t mean that anything I’ve taught you was wrong—”

  I cut him off again. “But it means that it doesn’t work. Does it, Dad? I mean, it obviously hasn’t worked for you. How can I expect that it will work for me?” By then my voice was getting all ragged with tears (I can only take so much of this confrontational stuff until I fall apart) and so I had to hang up on him.

  I just couldn’t bear for him to know that he had actually made me cry. I don’t want him to think I care enough to cry.

  And now I’m sitting here wondering about all that stuff. God, the Bible, church—all of it. What good has it done my parents? What good has it done me? And, besides, how can I base my entire belief system on my parents’ beliefs (which seems to be failing them miserably, by the way). I’ve considered discussing all this with Aunt Stephie, but she seems to have her hands full with my mom right now. And besides, everyone knows that Stephie is kind of flaky. I mean, she can be madly in love with a guy one day, and then hate him the next. Who’s to say she won’t be the same way about this new church of hers? No, it may be best to ponder these things in private. Figure it out for myself.

  February 23, Thursday (a surprising invitation)

  Something very strange happened today. I went to the library during my study period. I had decided to find a book about religion and do some research for myself. I know that may sound slightly obsessive, but all these questions about God and religion are so confusing, so I thought I just might find some answers in this book.

  Anyway, I had just settled down to do some serious reading when Josh Miller comes in and sits down right beside me. Well, naturally, I just act all nonchalant and cool (the way I’d been acting toward him all week, but usually Jenny is around to sort of buffer things). And so he asks me what I’m reading. Sort of embarrassed, I show him the fr
ont of the book, and explain I’m trying to understand things better. I figure he’ll probably make fun of me, but oddly enough he doesn’t. Instead, he says that he understands how I feel, and that he’s been trying to get his life right with God lately too.

  I’m just about dumbfounded at that. I mean, give me a break—how can it be that Josh Miller, the most popular boy in school, is trying to get his life right with God? Then he tells me about the youth pastor in his church and how he’s been talking to him a lot lately.

  “You go to church?” I ask incredulously. To which he laughs and says, “Sure, why not?” Then he tells me that he knows he’s got some things wrong in his life and he really wants to get things straightened out before he goes off to the state college next year. Then he gets real serious and tells me about his older brother who went to college and got totally messed up with alcohol and drugs and ended up dropping out and now his parents don’t even know where he is or if he’s even doing okay.

  “It’s weird because Caleb was always the smart one, getting straight A’s and stuff like that,” he tells me sadly. “But look what happened to him. I don’t want to end up like that. I don’t think my parents could take it.”

  I was totally amazed—and I thought I had this guy all figured out. So, I closed my book and looked at him. “Well, it sounds like you don’t need to worry about that, Josh. It looks like you’ve got your head on pretty straight.” He smiled, then said he wasn’t so sure.