Daffodils in Spring (4 page)

His question was as direct as his gaze.

“I…uh…” Calla could feel herself blushing.

“Or maybe you've just been waiting for the right guy to come along,” he suggested.

She wasn't sure how she should answer that. He saved her from having to by changing the subject.

“What did you think of All-Academics Night?” he asked.

“It was very long,” she answered. “But I guess that's the good news. Lots of our young people are doing well.”

He nodded agreement.

“Your son is a good public speaker,” Landry said. “He was one of the most comfortable at the podium.”

Calla nodded. “He's always been that way. My husband and I used to debate whether he was destined for politics or the preacher's pulpit.”

“Which do you think?”

“Neither. These days all he talks about is business. I think he wants to be somebody's CEO before he's thirty.”

Landry nodded encouragingly. “A smart, determined young guy with a good work ethic,” he said. “We need all we can get of those.”

It was a compliment of sorts and Calla smiled, accepting it as such.

“I noticed the young people from the alternative high school were not too shy in front of the microphone either,” she said.

“It's a little intimidating for them to come back to a turf where perhaps they didn't do so well,” he said. “But we talked about it, set it as a challenge. I think they all did well.”

“I was especially impressed by the girl who was inspired by her baby,” Calla said. “And she thanked her book group. That was a surprise.”

Landry nodded. “The book group is a great thing. It really adds a lot to their success both in and out of school.”

“I love to read,” Calla admitted. “I haven't been in a book club for years. But I always enjoyed it. It's fun hanging out with people who share your interest.”

“This group is not exactly for young book lovers,” he said. “Although most of the members probably are now. They sure didn't start out that way.”

“Oh?”

“They're in a program called Literature for All of Us. It was started by a woman from Evanston,” he said. “She spent a lot of years leading book clubs just like the ones you're thinking about. And then one day somebody suggested that she share her talents and her experience with at-risk young women. With all the challenges in their lives, reading a book and sitting down to discuss it is just not something that usually comes up.”

“I guess not,” Calla said.

“And it's more than just sharing stories and eating cookies,” he said. “It gives these young women, sometimes for the first time in their lives, a chance to get outside of their circumstances and approach the world from a new perspective. And to express themselves among their peers on a new level. I've been impressed with the outcome.”

“Well, your well-spoken award winner was very impressive.”

“She was, wasn't she,” he said. “There are groups for boys now, too. It's a proven idea that really works. And there are side benefits like improved reading skills and better peer-to-peer communication. It's just a great program. I wish we could get all our students into groups.”

The waiter arrived with their pie and the two of them ate congenially as they talked.

They discussed the weather, the neighborhood, the problems with the transit service. Calla told Landry about her job and its challenges. He related some of the problems in his own work. Eventually they got around to a book discussion themselves. Calla recommended a story she'd just read. Landry mentioned a movie that had just come out on a similar subject.

“I haven't been to the movies in…I don't know how long,” she admitted.

“Really? Well, I'll just have to get you to go with me. I hate eating popcorn alone.”

Calla wasn't sure if Landry's suggestion was the same as asking her on a date. But she'd declined anyway, saying how busy the season had become. And it was true for the next two weeks, at least for Nathan. Senior year was proving to be full of tests and papers and deadlines of all types. And when he added to that parties, get-togethers and a girlfriend, he barely had time to spend with his mom.

Calla had grown accustomed to seeing a smile on her son's face, and when she noticed it wasn't there, she had to ask.

“What's wrong, Nathan?”

He shrugged and shook his head.

She figured it was just a bad mood. But when days went by and the dark cloud only lifted sporadically, she knew she had to say something. She waited up for him, yawning in front of the TV until he returned home from being out with Jazleen.

“Hi, Mom, you're still up?”

She shrugged. “I can't sleep a wink anyway until I hear you come in,” she told him, remembering that Landry Sinclair had realized that about her immediately.

“Well, I'm home now,” he said. “So you'd better get some sleep. The morning comes early.”

It was a line she often said to him. But she made no move to go upstairs.

“Son, what's going on with you?” she asked him.

“Nothing.”

“Something.”

He shook his head. “Really, it's mostly nothing,” he assured her. “It just feels like something.”

“Are you having trouble at school?”

“Oh no, everything is going great,” he said. “Senior year is the best.”

“Are you getting worried about college? It's still too early to get an acceptance.”

“No, I'm not worried. I'm excited. It's almost unbelievable that it's really happening. I can hardly wait.”

“Then what is it?”

Nathan hesitated. “Okay. But if I tell you, I don't want you giving me any advice or doing anything about it or butting into things.”

“Is that what I do?”

“Sometimes,” he answered. “When you think you need to. But this is one of those things that I need to deal with on my own.”

“Okay,” she said. “No advice. No meddling.”

“It's Jazzy,” he said.

Calla's heart caught in her throat.
Please don't let that girl be pregnant!
she prayed silently.

“You know I really like her a lot,” Nathan said. “I like being with her and she's…she's special, Mama. I know you don't like her that much, but she's special to me.”

Calla nodded, biting her tongue.

“But she's just not on board with my future,” he continued. “She doesn't like me to even talk about it. And she's getting so…clingy or…jealous…or something. She calls me twenty times a day, and if I don't pick up or call right back at the next class change, she thinks I'm mad at her or I'm with some other girl or I want to break up. I can't pick up the phone every time she calls. I'm in school or I'm studying and I need to be doing that, not talking or texting.”

He looked to his mother for agreement and got it.

“And when we're together it's like Jazzy can't decide between starting a fight or crawling into my lap.” Nathan sighed heavily. “I've told her a million times that I'm crazy about her. That I think she's the one for me. But…but not now. I'm not ready to be with her now.”

Calla considered thoughtfully. “This is not advice,” she said, prefacing her words. “But I would like to remind you what you were like just a few years ago. Remember when it was so hard to see past the next weekend or even the next day? You'd know for a month that you had a book report, and the day before it was due you'd just be sitting down to work on it.”

Nathan chuckled. “Yeah, I was a kid. Kids are like that.”

“They are,” Calla agreed. “And although I think Jazleen is a very grown-up girl in a lot of ways, she's not looking five years in the future the way you are. She's looking at next fall and she sees you leaving her and it scares her.”

“It's not like I'm going to the moon.” Nathan spoke hastily, as if he'd said as much before.

“It might as well be the moon for her,” Calla said. “Her world has gotten very, very small. It's shrunk down to little more than her great-aunt, Canasta Street and you. When you leave, that's a big chunk of her life gone missing.”

“What am I going to do, Mom?” he asked. “I really… I really… I think I… I love her.” He made the confession with predictable hesitation. “I don't want to lose her. But I don't want to give up my dreams either.”

“No, of course you can't give up your dreams,” Calla said. They were her dreams, too. And she wasn't about to let them go. “You just have to try to understand what she's going through. And you've got to see if you can figure out a way to make her world bigger.”

“How do I do that?”

“Well, she needs friends.”

Nathan shrugged. “I don't think she wants any,” he said. “I've introduced her to all the girls I know from my school. She's not interested in any of them and seems almost suspicious of most of them.”

“Maybe you could ask one of them to include her in stuff they do,” Calla said. “Once they get to know each other, they might find things in common.”

“I can try,” he said. “But I don't know. Jazzy never lets people see how sweet and funny she is. If people knew her, they'd like her. But she seems determined that nobody gets to know her.”

Calla felt a wave of sympathy, but it was all for her son. “If you love her, you need to be there for her, son. But nobody can be everything to her.”

“I just wish I could think of something to make it better.”

“I'll try thinking too,” Calla promised.

Over the next few days, Calla did try to think of something that might improve the situation, though if she was being honest about it, she would have admitted that a lot of her solutions involved Nathan finding another girlfriend. But she tried to keep that sort of wishful thinking at bay. It wasn't all that unusual for the mother of a young man not to be impressed with his choice of girlfriend. Mark's mama hadn't been all that crazy about her. But mamas could be wrong, and Calla was willing to trust Nathan's judgment over her own.

 

Friday afternoon, Calla walked from the bus stop down Canasta Street, thinking about the weekend ahead of her. There had been a nice break in the cold weather and everyone on the street seemed to be taking advantage of it.

She should invite Jazleen to have dinner with them on Sunday. She hated to give up her only guaranteed alone time with her son. It was the weekend and the girl would be stuck to him like glue. But the only way that Jazleen would ever feel comfortable with her was if they spent time together.

She interrupted her own musings to wave at old Mr. Whitten as he sat on his porch.

The Carnaby children were all running around like banshees, their coats flapping open in the afternoon sun.

When she saw Mrs. Gamble and Eunice sitting on their porch, she called out to them.

“Afternoon!”

She assumed they would invite her to sit with them for a few minutes on a gorgeous day, but surprisingly they did not. In fact, they both just stared at her as if she'd grown two heads.

Calla was puzzled. At least she was until she reached her own gate. Sitting on her porch steps, dressed in sport slacks, a dark cable-knit sweater and brown suede jacket, was Landry Sinclair. He looked good even dressed down. He had a book in his hands and glanced up from his reading as she approached the gate. His smile was heart-melting.

Oh my God,
she thought to herself.
No wonder Eunice looked so peeved.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him.

“Waiting for you.”

Warily she entered the yard and walked up the sidewalk.

“What's going on?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he answered. “Of course you couldn't prove that by our neighbors. Every eye on the street has been focused on me since the minute I walked up to your porch. I can't decide if they think I'm going to rob the place or that I haven't realized my house is the one next door.”

His grin was absolutely infectious. Calla couldn't help but smile back at him.

“Would you…would you like to come in?”

“No thanks, I've got some things to do over at my place, but I wanted to ask if tonight was good for that movie date we talked about?”

She was thrilled. And mentally berated herself for the feeling. She was no giddy teenager. She should remind him of that right now before he got the wrong idea about where this was going. He might be interesting to talk to, but she wasn't on the hunt for a new man.

“I'm not a movie person,” she answered. “I haven't gone to see one in years.”

“Why not?”

The question should have been expected, but wasn't. Calla was forced to answer without seriously thinking about it.

“Mark, my late husband—he couldn't sit still that long,” she said. “He needed to be busy all the time. Spending a couple of hours in an uncomfortable chair watching a screen was near torture to him.”

Landry listened and nodded. “That's why he didn't go. Why don't you?”

“I suppose I just got out of the habit,” she answered finally.

“Then let's get you back in,” he said. “They're showing the film version of a book I just read and I'm really interested in seeing it.” He told her the title.

“Oh, I loved that book,” Calla said, then hesitated. “Well, I don't know exactly how I can say I ‘love' something that was so tragic. But it was certainly a story that stuck with me.”

“Aren't you interested in seeing how a director would handle it?”

She shrugged. “Well, yes, I am curious. But I can always wait for the DVD.”

Landry shook his head. “I'll pick you up at seven.”

Left with no chance of refusal, Calla agreed. She made her way inside not quite believing the reality of her first date in over twenty years. She couldn't help smiling.

And that grin stayed on her face all through preparations for an eat-and-run dinner. She left more than enough for Nathan on the stove.

Up in her bedroom, Calla fretted over what exactly to wear. The first thing she put on looked way too dressy. It was fine for church, but people were very casual at the movies. She changed into slacks and a blouse, but she didn't like the way that looked either. The more clothes she tried on, the more nervous she got. And as she got nervous, she became almost resentful. She was a grown woman. She shouldn't have to get all dolled up for some silly man. She didn't want a man. She enjoyed being on her own. Her life was fine, just her and Nathan.

But none of those rationalizations kept her from trying on everything in her closet until she finally chose an outfit. Her hands shook as she hooked the latch on her necklace. Fight or flight reaction was zizzing through her bloodstream and there were butterflies in her stomach as she walked downstairs. She stepped into the living room and inadvertently caught Nathan and Jazleen on the couch in a passionate embrace.

Calla was more startled than shocked, but the noise that escaped her lips did sound scandalized. The young couple guiltily separated. Unsure of what to do, Calla left the room. In the safety of the kitchen, she paced. She could hear their furtive whispering and the distinct sound of nervous giggling.

She tidied up a counter that was already neat, until she heard her son's voice behind her.

“We were just kissing, Mom.” Nathan's voice was defensive.

Calla turned and gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “I know,” she said. “I trust you.” Then she lowered her voice to add, “Just remember she's only seventeen and you have four years of college ahead of you.”

Calla turned away quickly, as if the counter desperately needed her attention. If Nathan was going to roll his eyes or make some other impatient response, she didn't want to see it. Her son was nearly a grown man. She wanted to treat him with the respect he deserved.

“So are you two staying in tonight?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yeah, we're going to watch the game.”

Calla idly wondered if Jazleen was also a fan of the NBA or just interested in more snuggling on the couch.

“You look nice. Where are you off to? Is something happening at the church tonight or are you meeting up with the ladies from your office?”

“I'm going to the movies,” Calla said.

Nathan's eyebrows went up. “The movies? I didn't think you liked movies.”

“I don't even know, it's been so long since I've gone.”

“Are you going by yourself?”

“No, with the next-door neighbor.”

“Eunice?” Nathan snorted. “Voluntarily putting up with that woman for hours is not a night out, it's a path to sainthood.”

“I'm not going with Eunice,” Calla said. She was reluctant to say the words out loud. “I'm going with Landry Sinclair.”

“Who?”

“Landry Sinclair, the guy that lives next door.” Calla gestured toward the window.

Nathan stared at her wide-eyed. “Is this a date?”

Calla stumbled over her reply.

“It
is
a date,” her son declared, incredulous.

“We're just two people who enjoy each other's company and want to see a movie.”

Nathan frowned. “I don't know if this is a good idea,” he said. “Who is this guy? What does he want from you?”

“He's our next-door neighbor,” Calla answered. “And it seems as if he wants the pleasure of my company.”

Nathan was shaking his head.

“I like him.” The statement came from Jazleen in the doorway. Jazleen. Her typically sullen expression was now replaced with a more thoughtful one.

“What do you know about him?” Nathan asked her.