CHAPTER 3
1032 Words
CHAPTER 3
SANDY STARED OVER HER cup of lemonade and offered Kennedy an apologetic smile. “I guess I should have realized they were in a meeting. I just can’t seem to think clearly these days.”
Kennedy wondered how much she was supposed to say about what she’d overheard. How did pastoral confidentiality work in a marriage? Would Carl tell her everything anyway? If Sandy hadn’t been so focused on keeping Woong from flopping out of her arms when they came in, she would have heard Wayne and Noah’s conversation herself.
Kennedy took a sip of the overly sweet lemonade and winced.
Sandy sighed. “I declare I left my brain in Seoul when we went to pick up Woong.”
Kennedy stared at the uneaten brownie on her plate. She hadn’t seen this side of Sandy before, this tired side. This side that could hardly hold up a conversation.
Sandy was shaking her head. “I don’t know sometimes. I just don’t know.”
Kennedy offered what she hoped was an encouraging smile. “Things will get easier once he learns English better, don’t you think?”
“Oh, he knows English tolerable by now. Just refuses to use it unless it’s to tell me he’s hungry or thirsty or my soup’s not flavored like what he’s used to back home. He still calls it home. And I don’t mean the orphanage in Seoul. That boy was saved from a life on the streets, and that’s what he misses most.” Another shake of the head that sent her French braid withering down her back. “I just don’t know what to do.”
Kennedy wished she had something to say, but she didn’t. What did she know about any of this? What did she know about kids like Woong, kids who grew up on the streets in Korea and now were trying to adjust to family life in an American suburb? She had pitifully little experience with children, adopted or not. No siblings. No cousins her age. She’d never even babysat.
The strange thing was how hard Sandy seemed to be taking their new situation. It wasn’t as though the Lindgrens were new to parenting. Kennedy couldn’t keep track of how many adopted and foster kids Carl and Sandy had raised in addition to their three biological ones. It couldn’t have been easy, could it? Yet Sandy beamed whenever she spoke about any of her grown children. What made Woong so much harder?
“Do you want me to talk to him?” Kennedy found herself asking. “It might be nice for him to have someone who speaks Korean.”
Sandy sighed. “Some folks in the adoption business frown on that. They say the best way for language learning is to quit the old one cold turkey, and if the kid spends too much time with a native speaker, it might hurt the bonding process with the adoptive family. But I’ve never been sure I buy into that entirely. I mean, imagine being that little. You’ve seen how skinny he is. My grandson Tyson’s only six and weighs more than him. So picture being that small, going through half of what Woong did growing up on the streets, and then imagine how you’d feel if on top of all the other changes you couldn’t talk to a soul? I sometimes think it’s more than his little heart can handle. Maybe that’s why he’s acting up so much.” She sighed and took Kennedy’s hand. “I’m sorry to unload on you like this. That’s not how I intended for your first day back in the States to start off. Tell me all about your summer. Have you heard how your friend’s doing, the one from ...”
“I can’t accept that, Pastor. I just can’t.”
The door to Carl’s study burst open, and Wayne’s voice flooded down the hall.
“Now, listen here,” Carl was saying, “I know your son. He’s a good kid who loves you. And you’re a good dad who loves him. We’ve got to find a way to ...”
“It’s unnatural.” Wayne shook his head. “And it’s sinful. You said so yourself, right from the pulpit. The Bible calls it an abomination. There’s no way to get around it. An abomination is an abomination.”
Carl planted himself in the hall so Wayne couldn’t pass. With his arms crossed and his feet spread out, Kennedy got a hint of what he might have looked like as a linebacker playing for the Saints before he went into full-time ministry. “I think we’re talking about two different things here. The Bible’s referring to very clear-cut cases of living outside of God’s standards of purity. But your son just told you he ...”
Wayne let out a harsh noise from the back of his throat. “He just what? Fantasizes about men? And you’re telling me that’s not a sin, that just because he hasn’t gone to bed with ...”
Sandy made a noisy show of stacking and rearranging the dishes on the table. Both men turned.
“Maybe we should talk about this again in the den,” Carl suggested.
“I need to get out of here.” It was Noah now, standing behind the two men but refusing to raise his eyes to either.
“Listen here, son.” Carl put his hand on Noah’s back, but he squirmed away.
“I’m done. I’m not doing this anymore. Now that you know that this is the way I am ...”
“But that’s what I’m trying to tell you,” his father interrupted. “This isn’t who you are. You’re confused. Something happened to you.” There was pleading in his tone.
Kennedy kept her eyes down, certain she wasn’t supposed to be listening in on this conversation. But where could she go?
“Someone did this to you.” Wayne spoke with conviction. Compassion. There was a slight tremor in his voice. Was he about to cry? “Who was it? Who did this to you?” He reached toward his son, but Noah slapped his hand away.
“Who did this to me?” His whole body trembled along with his voice. His words were laden with emotion, as if Kennedy could wring them out and smell his tears and sweat and fear and pain. “Ask God. The same one who calls people like me an abomination.”
Wayne sighed. “I didn’t mean ...”
“Yes, you did.” Noah shouldered his way past Carl and his dad. “I’m taking the T. I’ll see you later.”
“Where are you going?” Wayne demanded.
Noah didn’t turn around or offer any answer. The door slammed shut behind him, its dull thud reverberating through the silence of the house.
Wayne deflated. Kennedy wondered if he would go after his son. Carl and he stood planted in their places for several seconds until the microwave timer beeped. Sandy got up absently. “That’s for Woong. I’m going to tell him he can be out of time-out.” She sighed heavily. “Have a seat, everyone. I think we’ll just do something easy like grilled cheese for lunch.”
- Writer
