The Weight of Love (11 page)

23

JAYCEE

Everyone’s gone. The house is quiet. My heart is still pounding. S
o far, when I’ve been around Worthen, I’ve been able to put on a good face. A friendly face. Not tonight. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. I feel terrible. How did everyone in the room not notice? Another thought hits me worse than the first. What if they did?

“We’re back!
” Kyla calls from the entry.

Perfect. Distraction.
“How did he do?” I ask.

“He was so tired that we just hung out and
built with Tom’s blocks, huh Bridger?”

“Yep.”
He walks back to his room.

“You look a little better.”
Kyla smiles at me.

“Got a blessing,
” I explain.

“Bishop Allen is a good guy.”

“Oh, yeah, he and Elder Worthen did it for me.” I have to let out a slow breath to keep my cheeks from turning pink.

“You let the missionaries come over?”
Her eyes grow wide. She
should
be surprised. I felt panicked earlier today. And then I panicked again when I realized I had a chance to spend time with Worthen and I might lose it.

My cheeks redden.
No stopping it this time.

“Oh my gosh.”
Kyla’s smile fills her face. “The hot one, huh?”

I shake my head.
“It doesn’t matter. I mean…”

“Uh, it
so
does
matter! He’s hot! And he’s not going to be a missionary forever and…”

All my fears, all the reasons that what I feel is so wrong start to hit me.
“Stop, Kyla. There are so many things wrong with it that I don’t know where to start.”

“It’s okay to be attracted to someone.”
Her face falls a little. She wants me to be as excited as her.

“But is it okay to invite him over more than necessary and to feel like we’re alone in a room full of people
, and to want to feel his arms around me every time I see him, and to wish beyond anything that he wasn’t a missionary?” It all comes out in a rush and it’s a relief to say something out loud. It makes my feelings more real, but it also makes it all feel more impossible.

“So, what you’re saying is that y
ou’re ready to move on, finally. But you’re ready to move on with someone who, at the moment, is completely unavailable.” Now her face is full of sympathy. I’m so sick of sympathetic looks I could scream.

“Yeah.”
I sit down and flop back on the couch.

“Sorry, S
is.” She sits next to me and puts her hands over my shoulders.

“Me too.”
Now I have to laugh because there’s no way for me to know if he feels anything like I do, and there’s no way for me to ask. At least not until he’s home. “At least I know I won’t be broken forever.”

“What?” She pulls away from me.

I immediately realize I’ve never vocalized this before. “You know, after Matt, it felt like I’d never work right. That I’d never want someone that way again.”

“Jaycee…” Her voice echoes the sa
dness I’ve felt. She pulls on me tightly, squeezing us together.

I have so few people I can be close to like this. I let my
head rest on her tiny shoulder. “And that’s why it’s okay that this all sucks. Because at least I know I’m not broken.”

“I’m sorry, Jaycee. I swear things will start
going right for you. They have to.” Her hand slides up and down my arm.

“Yeah.”
Only I still feel like I’m still sliding downhill.

As we sit on my
couch together, Kyla feels like she’ll sit next to me all night. And I know she would. I also know again I’m making the right decision to move. The Allen’s are great, but I couldn’t survive without my sister.

- - - - -

The visit I’ve been dreading. The one I’m not sure I want. I hold Bridger’s hand tightly as I knock on the door. The house is the same. Plywood exterior that becomes a little greyer every year. There are old cars, and engines, and parts, and snowmachines littering the yard. Even through the snow their rusted worn parts give this house a warning:
Keep away. We might be crazy.

She opens the door. H
er blond hair looks a little more desperately bleached every time I come over.

“Hey, Mom.”

She pulls her face into a scowl.

Bridger shuffles his feet.
I probably should have found somewhere for him to be. He hates it here.

“Come on in.” She backs up and lets out something that sounds like a sigh of resignation.

I step into her entry. It too is littered with things I’m sure they haven’t touched in over a year. Parts of bicycles, old winter boots, tools.

“Should we take off our shoes?” I ask.

“Just kick off the snow. Your dad hates wet socks.” She walks out of the entry into the living room.

“There’s carpet.” I look down as I step inside.
When we lived here we had plywood floors.

“Finally.” Exasperation
is all over her voice. “Darryl! Your daughter is here!” Mom yells.

The ceiling is low and still unfinished, I can see the wood supports for the floor above and the w
iring for the lights is exposed.

“Well she can wait! I know she don’t like my smoking
, and I’m not done with my cigarette!” he calls from the back room.

Bridger’s hand clasps mine more tightly.

Mom smiles a little smile. “Your dad finally gave up on turning the garage into a garage. It’s now his man room. It’s nice.” She shrugs. “We’re not fighting over the TV anymore.”

“Oh.” I nod.

“I’m guessing this has something to do with your sister moving?” Mom asks.

“Yeah… uh…”

“Hey there, Jaycee.” Dad stops at the end of the hallway, across the room from me, and leans again the wall, which has been exposed sheetrock since I was a kid. It’s yellowed with age, and cigarette smoke. I know he won’t come any closer. We’ve never been a close family and the older I got, the more we moved away from each other.

“Hey, Dad.”

Bridger is still staring at the floor. It’s probably just as well, I don’t like the way my dad looks at him. He always said Bridger was odd, and I know Bridger feels it.

“Wow, that kid looks just like his dad, don’t he?” Dad’s head tilts to the side.

My jaw clenches tight. “He does.”

Mom sits on a stool in the kitchen.

“I wanted to say goodbye. I’m following Kyla to Utah.” There, it’s out. And as much as I don’t want to hope, part of me wishes they’d hug me and tell me they’ll miss me and that they can’t believe they’ll have to say goodbye. I know by the look on their faces that they won’t.

“Figured as much.” Dad pulls himself off the wall. “Guess we’ll see ya.” He turns and walks back down the hallway he appeared from.

And that’s it.

I start back to the door; Bridger’s hand
still locked in mine.

“Good luck down there. You know I think you’re crazy for
goin’,” Mom says.

“I know.” I’m afraid to look at her.

“Tom isn’t gonna marry you, too, is he?”

“
What
?” I spin to look at her. “No. One—neither of us wants that and two—Mormons don’t do that, Mom!”

“Course they do.” She shakes her head. “You just don’t know it yet.”

“Mom, you’d get kicked out of the church.” I push out an exasperated sigh.

Her brows rise, and she doesn’t speak. This is her way of telling me that she’s not saying anything, and she doesn’t believe me. Fine.

“Right, okay.” I grab the handle of the door. “Guess I’ll see ya.”

Mom doesn’t say anything
, and I’m still afraid to look at her. Bridger steps outside into the twenty below zero weather, and I swear I feel relief. I take a deep breath in, forcing my ribs to move, my chest to move. The cold air burns my throat, my lungs. But it’s better than the ache that’s already there. As soon as the burn of the cold ceases, the squeezing ache in my chest takes over again.

“I don’t like that house,
” Bridger says as he pulls his seatbelt on.

“Why not?” I have
to keep myself distracted. Talking with Bridger should help.

“It doesn’t
feel
good.”

Guess that pretty much sums it up. “And it smells,” I add.

“Like something burning.” He giggles.

“Yeah, like something old and burning.”
Something long gone. Something I need to stop looking for in them—understanding, sympathy, love. We were never close, but moving out, getting married, and joining a church—none of those things were what they wanted for me. It created a divide I’m not sure we’ll ever cross.

“Are we going home?”

“We’re going home. And then we’re going to pack up all of our favorite things and move somewhere warmer.” I smile.

“With Auntie Kyla and Uncle Tom.”

“That’s right Bridger.”

“Their house feels nice.”

“Yes it does.” And I guess that’s how simple it is. We’re doing what feels nice.

22

ELDER
WORTHEN

21 months

I know J
aycee’s moving, and I know I’m about to leave here. The simplest thought occurred to me. My mom would be a perfect resource for her. I know the Allen’s are around a lot. Maybe my mom and sister could fill in some of that gap when she moves. How was this not my first thought?

There’s a big part of me that’s doing it for selfish reasons. I want her to like my family, to be comfortable with them. I won’t be out here forever. I just hope I’m not out here for too long
—meaning so long that she finally relents with one of the guys who are chasing her. Church has just finished, and I scribble Mom’s number on the back of one of my cards.

“Hey Elders!” Bridger steps up to us and sticks his
hand out for us to shake. He’s doing good.

“Hey, Br
idger, where’s your mom?” I ask, bending way over to give him the chance to look at me if he will. He does but only briefly. Each time I see that kid’s eyes, it feels like a small victory.

“Right here.”
Jaycee’s voice has an edge of laughter to it that I love.

I snap to standing
. “Hey, I was just thinking. With your move?” I let my eyes fall onto Jaycee. I know I’m being carefully watched by my companion. That’s good. It’ll keep me from doing something stupid. “My little brother is autistic. I think a bit more severe than Bridger.”

Her attention is completely on me.
“You’ve said.”

“Here’s
my mom’s number. I told her to expect you to call so you should. Call, I mean.” I smile. “I should have thought about it when I first moved here and I didn’t.”

She reaches out and takes
my card. “I feel bad and I…” She flips it over to see Mom’s number on the back.

“Don’t feel bad. S
he’d love it. Think about how you’d feel if your experiences with Bridger would be able to help out another mom, okay?”

“And you told her I’d call.”
She’s still wary. Her eyes float from me to the card.

“She’s expecting it.”
I lean sideways against the wall, watching her.

Elder
Barris clears his throat. “We should get going.”

He’s right.
I’m going too far—staring at her, leaning against the wall next to her… Right now I really wish I hadn’t said anything to him about Jaycee.

She reaches out with her hand and touches my arm
, but my coat’s on and I barely feel it. “Thank you.”

Elder
Barris gives me a playful shove, trying to be discreet and trying to get me to follow.

“I’m
comin’” I laugh, hoping it all comes off as a big joke rather than what it is: him trying to keep me from going too far. Because I’m about a breath away from going too far. Well, my thoughts are already way astray. The proximity to her doesn’t help, and he knows this.

The problem is that no matter how careful I am in keeping up appearances, I really don’t care what these people think of me.
God knows where my heart is, and I’m deep enough in to accept how I feel for her and still try to do what I should do. Surely that counts for something.

23

JAYCEE

I’ve been staring at this phone number all day. Bridger crashed early tonight and it’s just after nine in Utah. I dial the number and hang up before it rings. Why is this so hard? It’s so hard because I’m calling the mother of a man I look at and pay attention to more than I should.

I grab the phone and punch in the number
again. My lungs are begging for air, but I’m not sure how to give it to them.

“Hello?”

“Is this Sister Worthen?” I ask.

“Sister Tate, but I’m Elder
Worthen’s mom. This must be Jaycee?”

Relief pours through me.
“That’s me.”

“I was worried you wouldn’t call.”
Her voice is all sincerity.

“I almost didn’t.”

“It’s nice to hear your voice. My son has talked about you a lot since he moved into your area.”

My heart begins to thrum in a way it shouldn’t.
“He’s been very helpful.”

“Good.”
She makes a contented sigh. “That’s something a mother always wants to hear.”

“Well the poor guys certainly spend enough time here.
I feel bad, like I’m the ward project or something.” My heart’s already slowing down. How can you get a feeling this good from someone over the phone?

“I don’t get that impression at all.
He says that it looks like everyone has loved coming to see you. He’s learned a lot.”

I’m speechless.
It changes a lot for me. I’ve always felt guilty for the amount of time the missionaries spend with me.

“So, tell
me about this Bridger of yours. Elder Worthen says he’s a pretty amazing kid.”

Tears spring to my eyes immediately.
“He is. He’s an amazing kid.”

We talk for over an hour. She asks me all sorts of questions about Bridger and seems to get all of it. Each time we hit a new topic, I can feel her understanding over the phone.
He and Gage sound so much alike, that it’s no wonder Elder Worthen is so good with him.

“I’m really looking forward to meeting you, Jaycee.”
And it sounds and feels honest. I might have people outside of Kyla and Tom when we move. That’s something.

“Me, too. Thank you so much. Y
ou have no idea.” Like tons have been lifted off of me. Tons.

She chuckles. “Well, not exactly, but I do know how good it feels to talk with someone who knows something of what yo
u’re going through.”

“I guess we’ll be in touch.”

“I’d love that.”

“Bye.” And I hang the phone up in kind of a daze. What a wonderful woman.
I can’t wait to meet her in person.

~
~ ~

I still haven’
t seen the elders, and I know transfers are tomorrow. Sacrament meeting has finished and I’m starting to panic. Just as Bridger and I step out of the chapel for classes, I see Worthen’s smile from where he and Barris stand in the small foyer.

“So. W
ill you write to me while I finish?” Worthen asks with a relaxed smile.

I nod. I don’t trust my voic
e, and I don’t trust myself not to touch him.

“Three months left,
” he says.

“I know.” Three months. His mom and I talked about this, briefly. I have his return date marked on my calendar. I know
exactly
when he’s scheduled to come home.

“Ma
ybe I’ll see you when I’m done.” This time his smile seems forced.

“Your mom and I plan to meet.” Will he know the whole reason I want to meet his mom, his family? Is it obvious enough? It feels like the most obvious thing in the world to me.
My heart hasn’t beat this hard since… I don’t know when.

Elder
Barris starts to move away. “Ready?”

“See you soon,” I try to say, but the words come out in an odd rush of a whisper.

“Soon.” The emotion in his eyes melts me as he leans toward me slightly and then away.

I sit still in my seat until they’re safely outside. I can’t say goodbye to him over and over.

I glance down to Bridger. There’s no way I can be here for the rest of the meetings, not today. “Mommy doesn’t feel good. We’re going home.”

“Whew.” Bridger giggles as he grabs my hand and I half sprint for the door. I need my comfortable jeans, a big sweatshirt and
maybe a pint of ice cream.