Authors: Carolyne Aarsen
“Thank you for sharing, Anneke,” Leslie said as I tried not to laugh out loud. “I'm sure you've given the customers of the
Harland Café something else to digest along with their soup and sandwiches.”
I hurried away, determined to show myself efficient and caring. Helen came by as I dropped ice into a pitcher. “I'm going
to take my break now,” I told her. “Then I'm done for the day.”
“Sure. I'm guessing that's your sister?” Helen said, poking her thumb over her shoulder.
“Yeah. Leslie VandeKeere.”
“Isn't she a nurse?” Helen's question was innocent, but I heard her underlying question:
So why are you just a waitress?
I knew how our lives compared better than Helen did. “She's the smart one in the family,” I said as I pulled Anneke's chocolate
milk from the cooler.
Anneke was still chattering, swinging her feet, and making a pyramid out of the plastic cream containers.
She frowned as I set the container in front of her and unwrapped the straw. “This is s'posed to come in a cup.”
“I thought you would think it was fun to drink out of the little container,” I said, pulling up a chair. I turned to Leslie.
“Remember that time Mom gave us some money and you and I went to the corner store and bought chocolate milk for the first
time?”
“I thought we got the money from the neighbor,” Leslie said.
“No. Mom had some extra cash. I remember seeing her take it out of her jewelry box.”
“Wow. She actually had some left over from buying cigarettes and liquor.” Leslie's faint sarcasm bothered me.
“She didn't blow
every
extra penny she had,” I said, defending our mother.
“Every other extra penny, then.” She ducked her head and took a sip of her tea.
Irritation flared through me. It was as if Leslie was determined to see just the negatives of our past. But I had to let that
slip. I had my own mistakes to make up for. “So how are the visitors from Holland?”
“They left yesterday.” Leslie stirred her iced tea with her straw, the ice clinking against the glass. “Refresh my memory
on why you took this job?”
“You know I have to stay until I get this whole stupid assault thing cleared up.”
“Is that the only reason?” The hurt in Leslie's voice burrowed deep.
“Of course not. I want to pay you back. And I knew you would fuss if I told you.”
Helen came to our table, coffeepot held aloft as she glanced from Leslie to me, still trying to figure out how Leslie got
the brains and I got the dim-witted genes. “Can I get you anything else?” she asked.
“I need to pee,” Anneke announced.
I pushed my chair back to take her, but Helen laid her hand on my shoulder, stopping me. “You stay and visit. I'll take her.”
I smiled my thanks, but as soon as Anneke was out of earshot, Leslie zeroed in on me.
“You don't need to pay me back. I'm your sister. I wanted to help you.”
“I think I'll save the financial aid for something more permanent. Like a house. Besides, I know what kind of trouble you've
been having with your mother-in-law.” I caught a twitch of her lip and felt her infinitesimal shift in attitude, so I pressed
on. “My bumping up against her every time we see each other causes you problems. You don't need me complicating matters any
more.”
“Mom—Wilma—has a tendency to be judgmental,” Leslie said with a light sigh, “but she does have her good points.”
Mom indeed! “That woman was making you crazy just a year ago.” How could she so easily defend Wilma VandeKeere and so quickly
find fault with our own mother?
“Things have changed in my life. Wilma and I have come to an understanding. I'm learning to respect her commitment to her
family and her faith.”
“Faith.” As I spoke the word, I tried to fit it in with the sister I thought I knew.
“Yes, faith. I go to church—and not just to satisfy the family like I did at first. I go because it means a lot to me. I find
peace there.” She hesitated, and I sensed she was uncomfortable telling me this. She should be. My mind flashed back to a
scene of the two of us sitting on the balcony of an apartment in a sketchy neighborhood in San Jose. Our legs hung out between
the bars of the balcony as we called out rude comments and dropped empty beer cans in front of an older lady on her way to
church every Sunday, trying to see how long it would take for her to get angry.
By the time we moved, all we had to do was yell out, “Praise the Lord, sister!” as she stepped into the parking lot and she
would shake her fist at us, her Sunday peace shattered before she even got to her car.
“Things have changed for me. I've come to know a God who cares about me and knows everything that happens to me. You should
come with me.”
“To church?” She had to be kidding.
Leslie gave me a tight smile and nodded.
Not kidding.
“Can you feature me in church? I've been places, done things… No.”
“Terra. God knows your heart.” Leslie stopped, then laughed. “I'm all wrong at this. You should be talking to my friend Kathy.”
“How about we just leave the whole religion thing for now. I get enough from Father Sam and Cor over there.”
Leslie turned around in time to see Cor waving at her with a benign smile on his face.
Right then, Helen returned with Anneke, saving me from any more uncomfortable discussion about church and God and what He
could and couldn't see.
Anneke was full of news about the bathroom and the kitchen and how the icemaker worked.
“Where are you staying?” Leslie asked when Anneke took a breath long enough to blow more bubbles in her chocolate milk.
“At Helen's.”
“You can stay at our place, you know.” Leslie sounded a little put out, but I let it slide.
“I don't have a car, Leslie, and Helen lives in town. Besides, I think it's a good idea to give us some space.”
She gave a tight little nod, which bothered me. I had to confess, I was hoping for a hearty declaration denying my very wise
statement.
“So, what are your plans? Or do you have any?”
“I think I'll stick around until I get this court thing done, then head out east. I've never been to Chicago or New York.”
Our conversation drifted randomly. The window of opportunity to rehash the past had been shut. We were now moving on to the
future. A safer place for me, to be sure.
During one lull in the conversation, Leslie reached across the table and grabbed my hand. “I'm glad you're here, Terra. I
missed you.” The hitch in her voice caught me as tightly as her fingers caught mine. “I want to find out what's been going
on in your life. Any special guy?”
I shook my head. That was a cesspool I'd rather not splash around in.
“There are a few single guys around here…” Leslie offered with a hopeful note in her voice.
“I met some, at the bar. No thanks.” Even as I gave her those brave words, I thought of Jack and his rescue the other night.
“Expand your horizons, girl. The bar isn't the best place to pick up a guy.”
I gave her a wry look. “I keep forgetting: When you met Dan, was it beer you were drinking, or shooters?”
The flush on Leslie's cheeks gave me the first upper-hand moment I'd experienced since I came here.
“Regardless,” Leslie said quietly, giving me a warning look. Anneke blissfully slurped down her chocolate milk, unaware of
how easily her Auntie Terra had annihilated her mommy's precious argument.
“Regardless of how that happened, you want me to behave differently? Kind of a double standard, don't you think?” I pressed
my advantage, but kept my voice down.
“Things have changed in my life. I'm starting to find a purpose beyond being a wife, mother, and nurse. I want the same for
you.”
Her voice held a faint note of conviction I'd never heard before, and I felt my sister slipping away from me. “Well, my life
is pretty much the same as it's always been. You didn't think I needed to change last year. I think I'll stay on course.”
“But are you happy?”
Her question shot like an arrow into the hurting places in my life. The places I kept tucked away because rehashing them didn't
help and didn't change things. There was no point in looking back.
“Yeah. I'm happy.”
But Leslie, who had consoled me when Tom Merrihew took Bethany Aronson to the prom, and who had been with me after I passed
my dreaded biology test, knew the Twenty Moods of Terra.
And the skeptical look she shot me proved it.
“Okay, so I'm not ecstatic. But for now I have a job, and—”
“And then what? You'll leave again? Keep moving, keep bending rules until they break? Getting into trouble…”
I held up my hand to stop the words that stormed at me, pushing at my defenses. “Innocent until proven guilty, Sis.”
Leslie's gentle sigh was like a soft slap.
“You had the same problem here in Harland, as I recall,” I said, pulling no punches. “A certain Dr. John?”
“I dealt with it, okay? And nothing happened.”
And there we were. Glaring at each other across a wooden table while my niece laid down a burbling sound track with her chocolate
milk.
“Anneke, don't make so much noise,” Leslie said absently, glancing away from me to her daughter.
“I'm making bubbles,” Anneke protested with the peculiar logic of a four-year-old.
“You're making
noisy
bubbles,” Leslie corrected as she picked up a napkin and wiped the chocolate-milk mustache off Anneke's face. Then she slipped
the cuff of her shirt back and glanced at her watch.
I beat her to the punch and pushed my chair away from the table. “I should get back to work.”
Regret tightened her features. “I didn't come here to fight with you or to come across as better than you. I want us to be
sisters—to be friends.”
“So do I,” I said, clutching the back of the chair. “But every time I turn around, I see a different Leslie than the one I
used to be able to joke with.”
“My life has changed—for the better. And I want the same for you. The same knowledge that God is in control of your life.
The same comfort.”
A chill feathered down my spine. If I didn't know my practical sister better, I would say she had all the makings of a religious
fanatic.
Leslie never took on new things without first knowing the risks and repercussions. She spent the last year of high school
figuring out where she wanted to take her nurse's training, bookmarking Web sites until our computer crashed. After she met
Dan at the bar, she made a list of reasons for and against dating him. Then, when he proposed, she kept the wedding budget
on a spreadsheet.
So for her to say that she wanted me to share in this new religious experience showed me how serious she was about this God
stuff.
“I don't think I want to go there,” I said quietly, holding her steady gaze. “The last thing I need is some all-knowing, all-seeing
God taking charge of my life. Every girl needs a few secrets.” I threw in a quick grin to show her I was borderline kidding.
The thought of some pushy power honing in on my inmost thoughts did not bring me comfort.
“What secrets?”
I just laughed and waved away her sisterly concern. “The usual. Passwords to my credit cards. Weight. Bra size.”
Leslie stood up and laid her hand on my shoulder. “I care about you. You know that. You're the only sister I have. I'm glad
you're here…”
“And the way you let that sentence trail off, I'm guessing there's an unvoiced addendum.”
“Are you done, Anneke?” Leslie asked, avoiding my comment.
Anneke nodded and ran the back of her hand over her mouth before Leslie could attack her again with the napkin. “Can I have
another little milk box?”
“Maybe next time,” Leslie said as she wiped Anneke's sticky fingers. She looked back at me, her eyes piercing. “You don't
do things without a reason. You came all the way here for something…”
“Sisterly bonding,” I protested, uncomfortable with the intensity of her gaze.
“…and I hope that one day you'll trust me enough to tell me.”
She held my gaze a bit longer, as if to underline her dramatic statement.
“The real reason is… I missed you… and, well, I felt bad… about Nicholas.”
Her gaze never faltered as I fumbled along.
“I did feel bad about Nicholas,” I protested, trying to find the proper tone of indignation. “I should have been here for
you. I know that.”
Leslie's mouth softened, and I felt like I had gained a partial reprieve. “Thanks, Terra. For that, at least.”
I shrugged, gave Anneke a quick stroke on her cheek, and bent over to give her a kiss.
She snaked her arms around my neck and gave me a strangling hug. “I love you so much, Auntie Terra.”
Anneke's exuberant outburst started a cozy warmth deep inside. “I love you, too, punkin,” I whispered, crouching down to ease
the pressure on my esophagus.
Anneke pulled back a little and grabbed my face in her still-sticky hands. “You gonna come and visit me?”
“You could come on Saturday,” Leslie suggested. “And stay overnight?”
“Sure. Sounds like fun.”
“Let's go, Mommy. Daddy is waiting for us.” Anneke ran out of the café ahead of Leslie, and with an apologetic glance, Leslie
followed.
As I picked up their glasses, I caught Cor's benign glance. He gave me a thumbs-up, and I guessed that he approved.
O
ne of these days I am going to buy my own car,” I muttered as a pickup whizzed past me, ignoring my thumb, leaving a swirl
of dust and paper in its wake. “And when I do, I'm going to pick up every hitchhiker I see.”
I glanced down at my perfectly respectable Eddie Bauer jean jacket, worn especially for the occasion of seeing my sister.
Paired with Diesel blue jeans, I didn't look like a serial killer. Or a religious fanatic.
I cringed, thinking of Leslie's little chat with me in the diner the other day. In all my imaginings, I didn't think she would
end up in the clutches of faith and a God whose name I used only when angry or upset.
If it had been anyone else but Leslie, my calm, by-the-book, somewhat skeptical sister, I would have brushed the whole thing
off as a phase.