The Light in the Wound (12 page)

One evening I asked Bernard to drive me over to the big house. My grandparents were back for a brief stay before going back to Canada to manage their business. As we drove up the expansive white driveway, all my memories of the house came flooding back to me. The house had always felt foreign to me but more so now, given the reason for my visit. I had to make an appointment to see them. Their secretary tried to squeeze me in immediately, but I insisted on finding a time that was most suitable for them. I sat at the entrance of the home, on the marble steps surrounded by the koi pond. I dipped my finger in the water and one of the bigger orange fish swam up to suck on it. I laughed and pulled my finger back and repeated it a few times. For a few minutes, I was lost in reminiscent thoughts about this home, the many parties I had witnessed over the years and the opulence that accompanied such a lonely existence.

The door opened and I was ushered in by one of their servants. “Ma’am Isabel, your grandparents are waiting for you in the library.”

I walked up the winding staircase to the glass doors that led into the library. I felt so small. I had regressed into my adolescence and was about to get reprimanded for running away two years ago.

“Grandma, Grandpa.” I slowly walked over to them and kissed them on both cheeks.

“Isabel. You are looking well. How have you been?”

I was about to answer when my grandfather interrupted, “Isabel, what you did to us two years ago was unacceptable. You ruined your future, your potential to get a good education and your chance of getting away from this mess here.”

“I’m sorry, Grandpa, but I couldn’t live there by myself anymore. That place just wasn’t for me. I’m better here, I’m doing really well in school.” Classic Isabel. Nervous rambling.

“So, tell us about your mother,” he interrupted, trying to change the subject. And I did. I told them about how she had been doing better focusing on Gracie and Chelsea and her dress shop. That Mr. Glass really caused her to have a relapse.

We talked for about forty-five minutes, and I felt the tension leave the room. We spoke casually now, my grandmother was telling me about seeing Chris at Holt Renfrew the month before and that she was engaged. Chris was my best friend at the boarding school. We were like two misfits whose differences fused us together so perfectly. I made a note to myself to call Chris one of these days.

“So, Isabel, here’s what we are going to do. Call the office tomorrow and have them write two checks — one to the hospital and one to your mother’s account. On a monthly basis, your grandmother and I will pay for your tuition, as well as your clothing allowance. Tell them I will swing by the office tomorrow to sign them. I want you to make sure you add finance classes to your major, so you can help me run the business once you graduate.”

“Thank you, Grandpa.”

“Isabel, your cousins tell me you are seriously involved with a boy?” My grandmother interjected as she leaned back into her seat.

I blushed, embarrassed. “I’ve been seeing Jesse Cain for almost three years.”

“Cain? Which Cain family? Do we know them?”

“Jesse’s father was a General in the military, Grandma.”

“Generals don’t make money. That’s why I don’t know the family. Nevertheless, have him come over soon so we can meet him.”

That night, Jesse stopped by on his way to attend an offsite Council meeting. I told him all about my visit to my grandparents. He was happy to know that I had made peace with them and ecstatic to hear that they wanted to meet him. I wasn’t going to be in a hurry for that to happen, though. Jesse was already stressed out enough about our lifestyle difference. He had to sell his car to pay for his tuition and took the bus everywhere he went. He refused my offers to have Bernard drive him around. He wouldn’t even get into my car once when I offered to take him home from school. I thought it was so romantic when we would walk hand in hand to his house from school with Bernard following behind us. He also took me on dates on the bus even if I had a car at my disposal. Jesse was just that stubborn when trying to prove a point. And in a way, this was one of the things that I loved about him.

“Bernard is waiting in the parking lot. Let’s go to your house to pick up your stuff, and I can drop you off at your meeting before heading home,” I offered Jesse one afternoon when he met me after class.

He took my hand as we continued to walk. “No, that’s okay. I’m going to walk home and then take the bus to the meeting.”

“That’s kinda stupid. Why do that when we have a car?”

“You have a car. Not me. I’m used to this. I don’t want you giving me rides everywhere I go.”

“Why? It gives us time to spend together, even if just a few minutes in the car.” I wasn’t going to give this up too easily. Jesse was being unreasonable.

“No, Issy, please. I’m not going to discuss this. Let me take you to Bernard. I’ll call you as soon as I’m home from my meeting. It’s at Ryan’s house, not far from here.”

“Can I come with you?” I persisted. I’d gone that far. How much further could I push?

He shook his head but a smile on his face indicated that he just might give in.

“Are you sure you want to take the bus with me?”

“Anything and anywhere with you, Jess. It’ll be fun to take the bus with you. Bernard is under strict orders not to let me venture out on my own, but I’ll have him go ahead and meet us at Ryan’s.” This did not make sense at all logistically, but Jesse was going to get his way and there was no convincing him otherwise.

“Perfect.”

Minutes later as we boarded a public bus to take us over to Ryan’s house, Jesse stared at me, as I stood pressed between him and a stranger in an overcrowded bus. He protectively grabbed my wrist and covered it with his hand. “Issy, did you have to wear that watch today? Next time we take the bus together, you can’t be wearing any expensive jewelry, okay?” he whispered distractedly, but his eyes felt warm and he looked entertained by me. I nodded my head obediently as we rode the rest of the way in silence. My first ride on a public bus with the boy I was willing to give everything up for.

Once during our freshman year, Jesse called and asked me to meet him on the baseball field late one evening after school. I automatically assumed that he wanted me to watch him practice, something I would often do when I didn’t have much homework to finish. As I walked across the newly shaved grass, I wondered where he could be. It worried me a bit to see no one there. The grounds were dark, except for a faded lamppost illuminating the walkways. The night was hot and humid, so I dressed in shorts for the occasion, fully expecting to be sitting on a bench watching Jesse play. He popped out of nowhere, just as I was about to walk up the steps toward the stands.

“Hi,” I said, as I looked around the field. “Am I late? Did I get the practice time wrong?”

“Nope,” he answered with a grin. “Practice ended an hour ago.”

“Oh. Am I here to pick you up?” I asked, still confused.

“I thought we’d play on the field for a bit,” he said, as he took my hand and led me further in toward the bases. He had his pitching glove on and carried a bat in his right hand.

“Play what, Jess? You know I don’t know anything about this game!” I laughed incredulously.

“Yes, you do! You’ve been watching me do this for almost three years! I thought it would be fun to watch you swing a bat,” he coaxed. “Come on, you’ll do great, I promise. Here, wear these so you don’t hurt your hands.”

He fished into his pockets and handed me some batting gloves. I wiggled my fingers to make sure they were still in there. They were twice the size of my hand. He looked delighted and enamored with me all at the same time.

“You look so cute. Come here,” he ordered as he pulled me in for a hug. Seconds later, he handed me the bat and then walked backwards until he was a few feet away from me.

“This is heavy!” I said, as I lifted the bat and mockingly took on the stance — both knees bent, two hands on the bat.

“Issy baby, you’re gonna fall over if you lean like that.” He laughed. “This isn’t tennis. Keep one foot in front of you and turn your body to face me. Now just relax and swing when I pitch, okay?”

“Like this?” I breathed, as I stuck my leg out and swiveled my hips.

“If you keep that up, we’ll be swinging something else,” he teased.

Five empty swings later, I finally hit the ball. It didn’t go very far, but I whooped and he whooped and I ran twice around the bases. It didn’t take much effort for him to pursue me as soon as he caught the ball. I hit the ball two more times until he chased me down and lifted me off the ground.

“Jess!” I panted, as he swooped me in his arms. “That was hard work! What do I get for doing this?” I flirted.

“Me,” he responded, as I wrapped my arms and legs around him.

“I’ll take that,” I whispered, and with a tender kiss, I gave him permission to carry me back to the dugout.

“Life is either a daring adventure or nothing.”

—Helen Keller

Sophomore year was upon us. I was spending more and more time alone, as Jesse’s time was consumed by baseball practices, baseball games and extracurricular activities. He was voted in as the University’s Sports Council President and there was an entourage of people that followed his every move. I was happy to remain in the background. I knew that he saw me every chance he got, regardless of how rare those times were. He did call me every evening and we would talk about our day. Betty would see me as often as she could, too, but we both accepted the fact that her time with Leigh was a priority. Carter and Alicia were getting ready to have their second baby, and Carter’s family had purchased an apartment for them to move into. Evie was still seriously into Seth and they were making plans to get married after graduation.