Waiting to Believe Page 3

  Kacey blushed with pleasure at the compliment. “Thanks, Sister. Greg’ll make a great Tom Sawyer! We’re excited about being able to play opposite each other!”

  “Oh, I’m sure you are! I suppose you’ll have to do plenty of rehearsing together—after hours!” the nun teased, scooping up pages of music from her music stand.

  “Well, to tell the truth, his singing could take some improvement!”

  “Ah, ‘the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.’”

  “Something like that!” Kacey said and laughed.

  Sister Mary Evangeline sat down behind her desk, motioning Kacey to take a seat. Late-afternoon sun streamed through the oversized windows. The smell of chalk hung in the air. The smile on the nun’s face softened slightly as she asked, “Is your head so full of him, Kathryn Clare?”

  Kacey was startled by the directness of the question. “I—I’m not sure how to answer that, Sister. I like Greg a lot, but I have lots of other things in my head, too.”

  The nun leaned back, folding her hands in front of her on the desk. “Like what?”

  Kacey paused. “Oh, things like what I’ll do this summer.” Her response sounded feeble, even to herself.

  “And beyond this summer?” Silence again. For months, the question had been there, unasked, between them.

  “I don’t know. I—I just want to have some fun,” came Kacey’s slow response.

  “Fun? You just want to have fun?” Mary Evangeline repeated incredulously. Kacey nodded, her eyes refusing to meet the sister’s. “Kathryn Clare, I’ve known you a good long time. I’ve watched you grow into a responsible young woman. What can you possibly mean by that statement?”

  A flush crept up Kacey’s neck. She struggled to answer honestly, knowing that if she did, she’d be giving away the most secret part of herself. “I feel like I’m on a roller coaster, Sister,” she began. “It’s hard. Hard at home all these years.”

  Mary Evangeline nodded. The difficulties in the Doyle household were known to many in the community.

  “I’ve just dreamed of getting away.”

  The nun reached across to lay a fleeting hand on Kacey’s arm. “And the roller coaster? Where does that come in?”

  Kacey took a deep breath. “There’s this kind of nagging thing hanging over me.” Sister Mary Evangeline sat motionless, her eyes riveted now on Kacey’s face.

  “When I try to see my life, what I should do with it, I think of things like—well, being a tap dancer or something.” The nun’s brows rose involuntarily. Kacey continued with slow deliberation. “Ya know, I just want to laugh. To be free. A free spirit.”

  “But the roller coaster?”

  “Oh, I guess I think the ride’s too wild sometimes. Sort of like my life. Every time I get my hopes up, I get slammed down.”

  The nun edged closer. “Tell me, Kacey.”

  “Well, I don’t know if I can explain it. I haven’t said it out loud before.” She paused, looking down at her hands. She was embarrassed. “It’s like God’s nagging at me.”

  Sister Mary Evangeline smiled. “Ah, ‘The Hound of Heaven,’” she murmured, and suddenly Kacey remembered the poem.

  I fled Him, down the nights and down the days;

  I fled Him down the arches of the years.

  I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways of my own mind;

  and in the midst of tears I hid from Him,

  and under running laughter.

  Tears pooled in Kacey’s eyes. “I’ve waited, waited for it to be my turn.” She struggled for composure now. “But it’s like God is always there, trying to send me a way I don’t want to go, and I don’t even know why!”

  The nun reached out to draw the trembling girl to herself. “Oh, Kathryn Clare . . . Kacey . . .” Tears now welled in her own eyes. Even if Kacey could not see her future, Sister Mary Evangeline could.

  Becky Thatcher and Tom Sawyer took their final curtain call. They bowed deeply as the school auditorium exploded in applause for the handsome couple. The first on his feet for the standing ovation was Kenneth, with all the Doyles following him. Rose wiped a tear from her cheek. She applauded until her hands tired.

  Kacey beamed. Early in the first act, she had spotted her family in the fourth row. She smiled at Greg, who held her hand as they took their bows. She could barely believe the applause was for them. For her.

  As they walked off stage, he told her, “Great job! Let’s go celebrate!”

  “Not by ourselves,” she said.

  Greg stopped. “Well, sure. By ourselves!”

  “Don’t be silly, Greg! The whole cast’s got to celebrate.”

  The angular lines of his face hardened as he ran his fingers through his greased down, red-dyed waves. He knew he wouldn’t win tonight.

  The partying went on till closing at Destry’s Pizza Place. Laughing, singing, teasing. Greg could see Kacey had been right. It was a night to hold on to for as long as possible.

  They climbed into Greg’s pickup after midnight. The ride to their spot took twenty minutes. The walk from the truck deeper into the woods was familiar, easily managed even in little moonlight.

  Spreading out the blanket, he held his hand out to her and gently pulled her down with him. “Oh, Kace,” he murmured as he folded her in his arms. His eyes closed in anticipation.

  He immediately felt her resistance. “What?” he asked.

  She sat up, her arms hugging her knees. “I don’t know. I just don’t feel like being here. Doing this.” Dread filled her as she struggled to find the right words. The intense drive she had felt so long to be near him, to touch him, had been slipping away. Play rehearsals had consumed their time and their attention for weeks, but around the corners of her consciousness, she was aware of a distancing within herself.

  She could see Greg’s face, drawn into a tight frown. “What’s wrong with you? You used to like this. You used to like me!” He stood up, looking down on her.

  “I don’t know! I just feel like I’m being smothered!”

  “Smothered?” Greg exploded. He dropped back down to his knees, his hands on her shoulders. “Kacey, I’m not trying to smother you! I love you!”

  She reached out to stroke his shaggy hair, to cup his chin with her hand. “This just doesn’t feel right to me anymore, Greg. I don’t know what else to say.”

  He took her hand from his face. “I thought you loved me.”

  In the shadowy moonlight, she could see the pain in his eyes. She felt it in her own heart. “I do love you, but something’s going on with me. I don’t know what, really, but I just can’t see a future for us anymore.” She paused, then whispered, “I’m sorry, so sorry.”

  Without speaking, he stood. She rose and, picking up the blanket, followed him as he walked slowly back to the truck. She climbed in beside him. He sat, his hands gripping the steering wheel. His eyes staring into the darkness.

  “Greg?”

  He shook his head. Turning the key, the old engine sputtered to life. He made his way slowly down the rutted road. He swung the truck out onto the county road, gravel kicking up behind him as he shifted into third and pushed down hard on the accelerator. This had been, he knew, the last trip to their glen.

  7

  “Did you hear the news?” Bridget asked as she forked a drumstick onto her plate.

  “What news?” came the multiple replies.

  “Marilyn Monroe killed herself. I just heard it on the radio!”

  Rose reached for the platter of chicken. “Oh, that Marilyn Monroe! She’s always up to something!” She lifted a thigh from the platter before passing it to Kenneth.

  He took it from her, a weary look on his face. “Up to something? Yes, I’d say she’s really up to something this time,” he muttered.

  Kacey picked at her food. Kenneth watched her from the corner of his e
ye. “I’d rather hear from Kacey why the tomatoes aren’t in yet.” There was an edge in his voice.

  Kacey’s face reddened. “It’s still early,” she replied without looking up. “Grandma always said don’t put them in till after Memorial Day.”

  Kenneth laid down his fork. “It is after Memorial Day, Kacey! Where in the world’s your head?”

  Joseph glanced at his sullen sister. “She’s cranky ’cuz Greg ditched her.”

  Kacey whirled on the eleven-year-old, her voice tight with anger. “He did not ditch me!”

  “Well, if he didn’t ditch you, where is he then? He hasn’t been over for a long time!”

  “If you must know, I broke up with him.”

  A groan from around the table. Maureen looked dismayed. “Oh, Kacey, why’d you do that? I love Greg!”

  “Mind your own business, Maureen!” Rose stood up and moved to the counter, rummaging in the cupboard. “You can’t possibly know what he’s really like. No one can, ‘til you live with a person awhile!”

  Kenneth frowned at his wife. “This isn’t about you, Rose! Let the girl talk!” Kenneth snapped.

  “Dad. Mom. Please.” The fork in her hand trembled. In her head, the words of the poem were ringing insistently. I fled Him, down the nights and down the days, I fled Him . . .

  A hush fell over the table. She took a deep breath and began. “Greg and I did break up, and I should have told you. I feel badly about it, but I knew I had to do it.”

  “Why?” Maureen repeated her question.

  Kacey picked up her napkin, then laid it down again, smoothing it with her hand. “Because it became clear to me that we weren’t going to have a future together.”

  Maureen was insistent. “Why not?”

  “Because I finally know what I want to do with my life. It’s been a long time in coming but I know now.” She paused as all eyes turned toward her. “I’m applying to Blessed Sacrament. I want to be a nun.”

  A gasp rose in the air from around the table. “Kacey!” Kenneth exploded with joy, his hands slapping the table.

  “Whoa!” Maureen exclaimed. At fourteen, that thought was inconceivable.

  Bridget’s mouth opened wide in astonishment but no words came out. Instead, tears sprang to her eyes. Rose paled instantly, her hands flying to her throat. Only Kenneth displayed pleasure, grinning widely.

  “Why would you do that?” Gerald asked. Even he was sobered by his sister’s announcement.

  “It’s hard to say. I’ve known for a long time that I want to do something meaningful with my life. I want to do good.”

  Rose slammed the cupboard door. “Be a social worker then!”

  Kenneth’s hand came up in a silencing motion. He took off his glasses, his eyes never leaving Kacey’s small face. “Kacey. A nun.” For all their devotion to the church, no Doyle had ever entered religious life. His daughter. The ultimate gift.

  Kacey felt relief to have spoken the words. She breathed more easily. “I know it’s late to be telling you and it’s late to be applying. It just took me a long time to make up my mind.”

  Kenneth leaned back in his chair, pleasure spread across his face. “Don’t you worry about getting in! I know the monsignor. I’ll get you in!”

  Rose was not to be denied. “Wait a minute! We need to talk about this!”

  “What’s there to talk about?” Kenneth challenged. “She knows what she wants!”

  “She doesn’t!” Rose shouted back. “She’s too young! She’s too young to make such a decision!”

  The younger children sat in stunned silence. Finally Joseph spoke in a soft, uncertain voice. “Who’ll coach my soccer team this fall, Kace? You promised.” Gerald kicked him under the table.

  “I’m telling you, this is too fast!” Rose was frantic. She stood at the counter, hands clenched at her throat. “She’s making a mistake!”

  “Mistake? It’s not a mistake to serve the church!” Kenneth roared.

  Kacey slumped back into her chair. Oh, she thought, it’ll be so good to get away from this.

  One by one, the children left their places at the table and wandered from the room, each trying to comprehend Kacey’s decision. The platter of chicken sat in front of Kacey, fat congealing around the edges. She carried it and the bowl of mashed potatoes to the counter, pushed the kitchen door open, and walked onto the porch and down into the yard.

  Now began the long good-bye.

  8

  Kenneth knew he’d find Kacey in the barn. He had waited, giving her time to collect herself and giving himself time to calm down after the confrontation with Rose. He had no idea what response Kacey had expected from her family, but this had to have shaken her.

  She stood by Two Spot, brushing and nuzzling the little horse, tears still visible on her pale cheeks. She didn’t look up as he approached.

  “Thought I’d find you here,” he began, reaching out to give the mare a stroke.

  “Well, that was a real show stopper, huh?” Her fragility revealed itself in her husky voice.

  Kenneth chuckled. “Can’t recall one to top it.”

  Kacey turned from Two Spot to face her father. “You don’t think I’m making a mistake, do you?”

  “There’s no finer calling, Kace.”

  “Oh, Dad, I know that. But what do you think about me? This isn’t about some ‘calling.’ This is about me! My life!”

  The urgency in her tone drove the clichés from his mind. She was right. He was chagrined. “You’ve been talking to others about it. The nuns, Father O’Hearn. Praying about it.”

  “I’ve talked to Sister Evangeline. A few times. That’s it.”

  “Well, and praying,” he repeated.

  “Praying? I dunno. I’ve tried. Praying doesn’t come easy for me. It’s more like an armlock on my mind that says I should do this.”

  Two Spot swung her head around, nudging Kacey to continue brushing. Kenneth searched her face. He didn’t know how to proceed. “Do you want to do this, Kacey? I’m confused.”

  She moved around to Two Spot’s other side. “It’s what I think I should do. Need to do, you know? But it’s not real clear to me how it’s happened. I’ve never really had a very personal connection to God.”

  “Kacey!”

  “It’s true, Dad. I feel a stronger connection with Sister Evangeline or Sister Mary Margaret. They’re strong women. Role models for me. I want to be like them.”

  She turned to her perplexed father. “When I think about my life, what I want to do, I just get stuck. I guess that’s where God comes in.” She fell silent, looking at the man she both loved and feared. She wanted to cry out to him for help. But not even he, with all his power, could help her.

  Finally, she laid the brush on the bench, shaking her head slowly as she gave Two Spot a pat before walking from the stall. There would be no more talk tonight. Kenneth, still puzzled, realized it, too. But he felt relief sweep over him. “C’mon, Kace. Let’s get some ice cream.”

  Kacey sat alone at the kitchen table, empty ice cream bowl still in front of her. It was after ten, and the house had quieted down. Sleep was still far off for her.

  She needed to do one more thing. Picking up the phone, she dialed the Saunders’ number. “Greg? I need to talk to you. Can you meet me at the glen?”

  “I’ll be right there!” Kacey could hear his excitement. She grimaced.

  She was waiting for him when she saw the headlights of his truck jumping down the bumpy road. Sitting on the ground, leaning against a massive oak, her knees were pulled up in front of her, arms tight around them.

  He hurried from the truck, smiling. She rose as he loped up to her. “Was I glad to get your call!”

  He reached out his arms, but she avoided his embrace. “I’ve got something to tell you,” she said. Taking his hand, she pulled him down to sit
beside her in the grass.

  “What?” His smile disappeared.

  “You got the wrong idea from my call. I don’t know how else to do this but just to blurt it out.” She swallowed. “I’ve made up my mind what I want to do in the fall. I’m not going to college.” He frowned. She plunged ahead. “I’ve decided to enter Blessed Sacrament Convent.”

  She heard a sharp intake of breath. “Kacey, what in the world—” He stopped himself. “Kacey.”

  His hand had slipped from hers, but she took it back. “I know this is a shock.”

  “I had no idea! You’ve never said a word!”

  “I know, I know. I’ve wanted to talk to you about it, but I haven’t talked to anyone.”

  “But—”

  She interrupted him. “I didn’t handle it well. I see that. I kept waiting till I was sure, and then when I was, I didn’t know how to tell you.” She paused. “You know how much I’ve cared for you. Still care for you.”

  He shook his head slowly. “A nun. I can’t believe it,” he repeated.

  “Oh, Greg, I’m sorry.” She reached up to stroke his cheek. Then, pulling him to her, she buried her face in his shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

  She didn’t turn on lights as she made her way through the dark house to her room. Her body felt weary, heavy. So did her heart.

  From down the hall, she heard the rumble of her father’s snoring, her mother’s uneven breathing. But sleep wouldn’t come to Kacey. She played and replayed the events of the day. She tried to recall exactly what she had said. Something about wanting to do good. Oh, there’s got to be more to it than that!

  Feeling a chill, she pulled the thin summer blanket up around her shoulders. She thought of Annie, so far from home now, and the comfort of spooning up against her. She lay alone in the double bed, wishing for her older sister.

  Moonlight danced delicately through the window onto the yellow-flowered wallpaper. The lace curtain fluttered with the nighttime breeze. All seemed peaceful in the little room, but turmoil stirred within Kacey.