Matters of Faith by Kristy Kiernan Read Free Book Online

what this is about? You’re trying to get me to let him take the boat?”
    I shrugged. It was a non-answer for me. In fact, I couldn’t decide what was keeping me on edge. Nothing I touched upon—tattoo? her still unspecified religion? Marshall growing up?—settled in me as concrete. But apparently my shrug was answer enough for Cal.
    â€œAll right. I’ll bite. I let him take the boat, you’ll relax?”
    â€œDo what you want,” I said. We stared at each other, silent now, daring the other to up the ante or fold. We did this in our marriage. This was our shorthand. This was our passive-aggressive, avoid-a-fight way. It worked. Passive-aggressive is hugely underrated when it comes to marriage.
    â€œMom?”
    Meghan startled us out of our cold war. She’d poked her head around the swinging door and was looking at us with a mixture of irritation and concern.
    â€œYou want me to help with dessert?”
    â€œSure, honey,” I said with a bright smile at Cal. If he rolled his eyes, he did it after he turned away.
    When the three of us carried in the bowls of strawberries and tofu flan, Ada and Marshall were leaning in to each other, their temples touching as Marshall said something in Ada’s ear. She was laughing softly. The intimacy of it nearly took my breath away. They did not jump and pull apart the way I would have when I was their age. The way I would have expected. The way I was still standing there waiting for.
    It was only when I placed Ada’s bowl in front of her that they drew back. Both smiled up at me without guile, and warmth filled my belly. I thought it might be nausea for a moment, but it seemed that whatever reservations I’d had simply burned up, like a scrap of paper afire, a brief blaze and then gone off the tips of the fingers, into the wind. I couldn’t help but take a deep breath and something seemed to expand and ease inside me as I sat down and let it out, nearly expecting to see a wisp of smoke. Just a rough start, I thought.
    It was new. That was all. When had new stopped being a good thing? When Meghan was diagnosed? That was new. That was a whole world of new to learn. Who wants new after that? What you want after that is safe .
    And we’d been safe. Amazingly enough, after all the tests and adjustments and frightening trials of new food, we’d been safe. And nothing new had happened in a very long time. Until now. Or maybe we’d been ignoring the new things that had been presented to us over the years. Maybe we had stagnated in our pool of safe. Maybe this was why Cal and I swallowed jokes untold, restrained hands meant to touch.
    â€œYour father has something to tell you,” I said.
    â€œOh, yeah. You can take McKale tomorrow,” Cal said. “But I want the radio on at all times.”
    Marshall glanced at me and broke into a wide grin. “Great! Great, Dad, thanks.”
    Meghan clattered her spoon into her bowl and looked panic-stricken. “Can I go? I want to go. Can I?” she asked, turning, not to Cal or me, but to Marshall and Ada.
    â€œSweetie,” I said gently, “I think Marshall and Ada would like to have a little time alone.”
    â€œMeghan, come on,” Marshall said. “We’ll do something when we get home, okay?”
    â€œWhy can’t she come?” Ada asked. A short silence changed everything again, as if we’d all inhaled at the same time, pulling the oxygen from the room faster than it could filter in.
    â€œCan I, Mom?” Meghan asked, her eyes wide.
    â€œAsk your brother,” I said, keeping my tone light.
    â€œMarsh, can I? I won’t get in the way or anything,” she pleaded.
    Marshall didn’t look at Ada. He shrugged and said, “Yeah, all right, I guess.”
    Cal looked at me and nodded, as if to say, See? I would have pretended to not see that look last week. I lifted a shoulder, tilted my head, and in that off-balance