Chapter 13

We walked back to the church, and I got in my car and Yirmeyah got into his truck, and we each went home. I parked in the driveway beside Mama's minivan, and went into the house and up the stairs, where I went into my room and changed. It was a nice day, almost warm enough to be early summer, so I put on a floral patterned sundress and went barefoot back down the stairs, thinking I'd go outside and sit beside the pool for a while. We don't like to be fanatics about it, but Daddy and Mama have always cared about keeping the Lord's Day separate from other days and so we don't swim on Sunday. I don't suppose that it would be a sin if we did, but at the same time I like it, even though there have been times, especially when I was in my teens, when I could have screamed because I wanted to go swimming and it was Sunday.

I was passing through the living room when Mama called to me from the kitchen. I turned and went in there, and she was at the counter stirring what looked like applesauce, which we mix with cinnamon for extra flavor. Daddy was sitting on the other side of the counter, with a cup of coffee in front of him. "How are you doing, sugar?" he asked me.

"Fine, Daddy."

"How was your date?" Daddy was doing the asking, but I could tell that Mama was just as interested, even if she wasn't saying anything but just listening. There's a listening which is just listening and there's a listening which is interested, and though I can't figure out how it's different to look at I can always tell the difference with Mama.

"It was different," I said, and went to sit beside Daddy on one of the high chairs we have there, which are like stools except they have backs to lean against. "It's not so much that we just went to Subway, but we talked about things that I'm not used to talking about on dates."

"Like what?" Daddy said, and took a sip of coffee.

"Well, you know usually my dates were to the movies, or maybe to a concert, or sometimes we'd go out to a party or something. And the guys didn't talk about much except the movie, or the music, or the people at the party, or maybe themselves. They really were kind of brainless, I guess," I added, thinking that it was the first time I'd had that reaction, because at the time I didn't think anything about the conversations the guys had carried on. "But Yirmeyah was talking about his work as the pastor, and about MJT, and about serious stuff."

"He treated you like an adult."

"Yes, he did."

"And he acted like an adult." It seemed to me that Daddy was analyzing Yirmeyah as much as he was finding out how I'd enjoyed my date.

"He did. Do you mean you weren't sure that he would?"

"No, Cassie, I never doubted that Yirmeyah would be more mature than his age. But I wasn't sure that you would be prepared for him to act like an adult."

"I'm not sure what you mean, Daddy."

He sipped his coffee, and looked at Mama, who gave him the eyebrow lift which meant that he'd gotten himself into it and he would have to get himself out. I didn't know what he'd gotten himself into, and I raised my own eyebrows, meaning that I wanted to know what was going on.

Daddy sipped some more coffee while Mama finished stirring the applesauce and started spooning it into bowls. When she put a bowl in front of him he took a spoonful and held it in his mouth for a couple of seconds, savoring the taste. After he swallowed he took a sip of coffee and Mama banged the spoon into the big bowl of applesauce.

"Okay, okay," he said. He knows Mama better than anyone, better than I do I suppose, even though we're both women and we have our girl talks now and then and probably talk about things that would kill Daddy with embarrassment. He looked over at me. "What I meant, Cassie, was that I wasn't sure that you could handle someone as mature as Yirmeyah." He sighed. "I suppose I've spoiled you rotten – well, not rotten. But I have spoiled you. And as a result you're not ... you're not always as grownup as I would want my daughter to be at your age. And I wondered if a man who discussed serious subjects would be able to get along with you."

Mama put a bowl of applesauce in front of me, and it was my turn to spoon some into my mouth and kill time by savoring the taste. I felt Mama's eyes on me, and I looked up, and there she was, waiting for me to say something.

So I did. "Daddy," I said, "I have learned some things about myself over these months since Yirmeyah came, and I know you're right. But I guess it's as much my fault for wanting to be a little princess instead of an adult, as it is yours for spoiling me. I've done my best to twist you around my finger, and it's worked too, and I haven't been ashamed of it. And I guess I ought to be, oughtn't I?" That last sentence came out with a catch in my voice.

Daddy looked at me for a moment. "You're growing up, Cassie," he finally said. "If Yirmeyah's the cause, I'm happy he's here. I'll let you share the blame with me for making you into a spoiled princess, because you are very good at flirting, even with me. Oh, I know your innocence, Cassie. You don't mean anything by it. It's a game to you, that's all. But you do it, and I've let you get away with it." He reached out and took my hand. "You're growing up, Cassie, and I'm glad to see it. And maybe Yirmeyah's teaching me some things too."

Yirmeyah

I remember the day when Cassie came to the Lord. It was Friday, July 4. I'd taken her up to Sandia Crest that day, driving up instead of taking the tram. We'd wound up that two-lane road that switches back and forth up the east side of the mountain. We were in my pickup, and she'd slid over next to me on the bench seat. She still had nothing to report. I still loved her. And I still restrained myself, willing to wait. It wasn't easy to wait, but I wouldn't push her.

On the Crest we walked, and talked about nothing much at times, and about theology at times. We discussed what it's like to be a preacher. We discussed what it's like to manage a department for a fairly major local business. We talked about how close the sky seemed up there, and how small the buildings looked a mile below us, almost straight down.