Carole Page - Decidedly Married

“If he’s like this in public, what do you two do in private?”

Katie’s mouth curled mockingly. “Nothing you wouldn’t do, Mom.”

Julie raised her hand reflexively, but stopped herself just short of slapping Katie’s cheek. “That’s enough, young lady. If you want to entertain your boyfriend in this house, you’d better show some respect”

“You didn’t invite Jesse over. Dad did!”

“That doesn’t matter. He’s here, and I’m trying to make the best of it. I could use a little help from you.”

“I know you don’t like him,” said Katie. “He knows it, too.”

Julie sighed. This wasn’t going the way she had intended. “I just don’t think he’s right for you, Katie. Don’t you understand? I’m concerned because I care about you.”

“If you care about me so much, be nice to my friends. Treat Jesse like a person, not like some mongrel dog you can’t wait to shoo out of the yard.”

“Believe me, I’m trying to be nice to Jesse, but you two don’t make it easy.” Julie handed Katie the platter of marinated steaks. “Take these out to your dad, will you? Then come back and help me carry the rest of the food out to the picnic table.”

Balancing the tray, Katie pushed open the screen door with her shoulder and edged out onto the porch. “Jesse and I will both come back and carry out the food.”

Julie closed her eyes for a long minute and whispered, “Help me, God. You tell me to love others, but sometimes I have a hard time even liking them!”

Considering Julie’s jarring confrontation with Katie in the kitchen, the meal itself went surprisingly well. Michael was in wonderful spirits as he barbecued the steaks. He told one joke after another and even persuaded a reticent Jesse to do several of his impressions of popular comedians and public figures. He was actually quite good, and Katie was obviously enraptured by both men.

Julie had to admit she was feeling better, too, less stressed out, more optimistic Maybe she had been unfair to Jesse, judging him too quickly, condemning his relationship with Katie. Maybe there was nothing to it. Maybe it was a passing fling, one of those teenage romances that were here today, gone tomorrow. Perhaps if she bided her time and kept her doubts to herself, Katie would tire of this ragamuffin, streetwise kid and find some college-bound young man of her caliber.

Julie watched Jesse as he consumed his third helping of steak and potato salad. His manners were adequate, but he ate like there was no tomorrow. Didn’t his family feed him at home? But who were his family? That’s right, Julie remembered. He had told her his parents were dead; he lived with his grandmother.

When Julie brought out a huge strawberry shortcake brimming with whipped cream, Jesse’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. She gave him an especially large helping and felt a ripple of gratification when he thanked her profusely. Even Katie looked pleased by Julie’s spontaneous generosity. “It’s great, Mom,” she said. “Totally great”

“You can have all you want,” said Julie, “as long as you promise to help with the dishes.”

“We’ll both help,” offered Jesse.

“It’ll be a cinch,” Katie told him. “We just rinse them off and load them in the dishwasher.”

Jesse grinned. “At my house, I’m the dishwasher.”

“You must be quite a help to your grandmother,” said Julie.

Jesse nodded. “I’m all she’s got, except for my little brother, Scout, but he’s just a kid, you know?”

“I’m sure you must try to be a good example to him and keep him out of trouble.” Julie really meant, Please reassure me you stay out of trouble, for Katie’s sake!

“I try to keep Scout on the right track,” said Jesse, “but sometimes trouble has a way of finding him.”

Katie hugged Jesse’s arm possessively. “Come on, Jes. Let’s go do those dishes. Then maybe we can take a swim.”

Jesse’s eyes moved to the oval swimming pool several yards beyond the picnic table. “That’s cool, babe. That’s one radical pool!”

“If you forgot your trunks, you can borrow a pair of mine,” said Michael as he scraped the grill. The pungent, charcoal smell filled the air.

“Thanks,” said Jesse. “I don’t swim much. Too busy working.”

Michael set his blackened barbecue utensils on the cedar picnic table, grabbed a terry cloth towel and wiped the charcoal smudges from his hands. “Well, Jesse, if you ever want to earn some extra money, I could use some help.”

“Working on your car?”

“No, on a house I’m renovating. It’s my hobby. I buy old fixer-uppers and fix them up.”

“Sounds like a lot of work,” said Jesse.

Michael tossed the towel on the table and sat down on a corner of the narrow cedar bench beside Julie. “It is a lot of work, but I like it. I’ve turned some real losers into beauties, haven’t I, Julie?”

She waved a fly away from the half-eaten potato salad. “Yes, Michael, you’ve worked miracles,” she said wearily. “Some of those places I wouldn’t have touched with a ten-foot pole.”

“And I sold them for good money, didn’t I, Jewel? I even surprised you, didn’t I?”

She nodded reluctantly. She hated in any way encouraging or validating Michael’s obsession with old houses. Over the years he had spent countless hours tearing out old drywall, shoring up broken beams, painting, plastering and fixing leaky plumbing in dilapidated ruins a more timid soul would have bulldozed on the spot.

“Sure, I’d be glad to help you sometime,” said Jesse, “but I don’t know much about construction.”

“That’s okay. I’ll teach you what you need to know. I have a feeling you’ll be a natural.”

Katie tugged on Jesse’s arm. “If we’re going swimming after a while, we’d better hit the dishes now.”

As Katie and Jesse carried dirty dishes into the house, Michael moved over closer to Julie and pulled her against him. His tanned face and arms glistened with a sheen of perspiration; she could smell a mixture of charbroiled tenderloin and spicy aftershave on his skin. She felt a ripple of pleasure at his closeness, even here with the two of them squeezed together at this rough-hewn picnic table. He murmured against her ear, “It’s been a nice barbecue, hasn’t it, sweetheart?”

“Very nice,” she agreed. No sense telling him about the earlier clash with Katie in the kitchen. After all, she and Katie had apparently worked out an unspoken truce and all seemed forgiven. As long as I’m nice to Jesse, we’ll all get along.

“You don’t sound very convincing,” said Michael. “Are you still worried about Katie getting too involved with this boy?”

“Aren’t you, Michael?”

“He seems nice enough.”

“We don’t know anything about him.”

“He seems crazy about Katie.”

“That’s what worries me. Where are they headed? She has a wonderful future. I just hope he doesn’t mess it up for her.”

Michael’s blue eyes darkened. “Like I did with you?”

She pulled away and stared at him. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it!”

“It’s what I heard,” he replied, releasing her. He moved off the bench and began gathering the last of the dishes and utensils. She stood and helped him, but they both worked in an uncomfortable silence, until she heard the shrill ring of a phone nearby.

Michael reached into the pocket of his sport shirt and pulled out his cellular phone; he carried it with him everywhere. Julie was surprised he didn’t take it with him to bed. She hated that phone; it was like an umbilical cord connecting him forever to his work. It meant interrupted plans, broken dates, shortchanged family times.