Catholicism?” Father Joseph asked her.
Libby flashed him a flawless smile and shrugged. “Possibly.”
Father waved her to a seat near Stacey. “The subject tonight is Extreme Unction or, as it is more commonly called, Last Rites.” Gruesome topic for a gruesome night. Stacy sneaked a look in Arthur’s direction and was horrified to see he was looking at Libby with interest.
Last night didn’t go all that badly, Stacy reflected as she was brushing her teeth the next morning. Father’s talk had been interesting. Stacy didn’t know that Last Rites were routinely given when you became elderly or suffered catastrophic infirmity, or that they were good for more than getting your soul ready to meet God. Sometimes a person would be healed in body when he received them. Father had given her the Confirmation info to memorize, and it didn’t look all that difficult. Most of it she had absorbed simply living in a Catholic family. Admittedly, Libby’s workout clothes showed about as much of her flawless skin as is possible without looking like you stepped out of a music video. This was not lost on the guys, who were quietly interested—or on the adults, who were quietly disapproving.
But at least she went home fairly early. Stacy was sure Libby would catch up with her to discuss how things were progressing. She wasn’t necessarily looking forward to that. She would have to try to explain the concept of modesty to her friend. Otherwise George might not let Libby back in the house.
Darius surprised Stacy with a perfect red rose that morning. “How’s my love?” he said and handed it to her while she was unloading books into her locker.
Stacy took the rose and drank in its heavenly scent. “Pretty good. This helps.” She was glad to see that the thornless stem was in a mini-container of water, so leaving it in her locker all day, it shouldn’t die. She regretfully fastened the padlock, then hugged Darius and gave him a respectable kiss. “That was very thoughtful.”
He just smiled. “I was hoping you would come and watch a jam session with me tonight. It’s a newer band I’m considering taking under my wing. I want another opinion.”
“What time?” Stacy asked, shifting her books.
“Right after school—” Then, at her predictable look, he quickly said, “I know you work in the bread shop, but can’t you get out of it for one day? Your family can manage. It’s not like that’s a real job.”
“Grammy would not appreciate you saying that,” Stacy told him, but she smiled tightly. “I’ll call and ask how busy it is, if you like.”
“Good. Meet me by the front door at three-thirty.” Stacy sighed. She didn’t even know if she could go yet. She did know she couldn’t make a habit of missing work—even if she did work for family. They were counting on her.
Stacy called and got the reluctant OK from her Grandmother right before lunch. She hoped she wasn’t putting her family in a spot, doing this. Libby, as expected, was eager to know whether she had made the desired impression on Arthur. Although Stacy was sure that he had taken notice of her, she hadn’t actually talked to him about it, so she told her friend she would feel him out about it later that night, if she got the chance.
It was fun hanging out with Darius that afternoon, but Stacy couldn’t help thinking about her family, wondering how they were managing without her. The group was young—Stacy recognized several members as underclassmen from her school. They had the rudiments of talent and were a pack of pretty boys. They were still looking for a name—maybe that would work: Pack of Pretty Boys. She suggested it and they groaned. Stacy shrugged . It was better than Rat Puke or Fat Buttered Gecko— some of the other names that had been suggested. They jammed for a few hours and she enjoyed being there, but Stacy still felt like she had let her family down. She was grateful to be dropped off in time for religious interval training. Anyway that gave her a chance to see if Libby had made the desired impression on Arthur.
“So what did you think of my friend, Libby?” Stacy asked him as they were pulling on tennis previous to working out.
Arthur looked up at her. “Why?”
Stacy looked annoyed. “Never mind why. Just what did you think of her.”
Arthur shrugged and went back to tying his shoe. “She’s all right.”
Stacy gave him a piercing look. “Really? Just all right?”
“Look, Stace, what do you want me to say—that she’s hot? That I couldn’t take my eyes off her?” He leaned back and looked her directly in the face. “Just what exactly are you getting at?”
Stacy could feel her face flushing red and she wasn’t sure why. “I’m no good at this,” she finally muttered.
“No good at what?”
“Libby likes you.” She said it right out. “I owed her a favor so I promised to feel you out. To see if you would be interested in getting to know her.”
Arthur chewed his lip and stared at her awhile before speaking. He looked like he was considering his next move in a game of chess. “All right,” he eventually said.
“All right- what?,” Stacy tilted her head.
“All right, I’ll date her. Give me her number.” His tone implied ‘I dare you to’.
Stacy pursed her lips. “Fine.” She grabbed a slip of paper, scribbled it down and slapped it on the bench hotly.
Arthur slowly grinned, picked it up and put it in his wallet.
“So when are you planning to call her?” Her voice wasn’t entirely steady as she said this.
Arthur shrugged and smiled at her. “That’s my business.”
“Right,” said Stacy, and since she couldn’t think of anything else to say, she picked a machine for the night’s workout.
The next day Libby seemed satisfied that her goal of impressing Arthur had been accomplished. She didn’t give Stacy any details but it appeared that they had made arrangements, which was fine with Stacy. Her duty had been fulfilled and she was more than willing to keep her nose out of their business. After working in the bread shop that night, Stacy’s mom offered to make her dinner—a real home-cooked meal! With everybody’s schedule so different, as well as different tastes, they rarely ate together. Rose made chicken stir-fry and they ate together as a family—Grammy, her mom, Emily and Reese, as well as Stacy. After dinner Emily excused herself and Reecie settled down to watch Blues Clues in the living room. This left Stacy with her mother and grandmother.
“Honey,” her mother began hesitantly, “it has come to our attention that you are considering choosing a life partner.” (Emily was such a blabbermouth!) “First of all, why is it that you think you should marry Darius?”
Stacy shrugged. “We love each other. I feel different when I’m with him—like the whole world is better somehow, and exciting. I look forward to being with him and enjoy every moment when we’re together. It’s been like this with us almost since we met. Isn’t that love?”
Grandma Annie smiled at her. “That’s being ‘in love’,” she said.
Her mother took over. “Can you listen to your mother for a minute? I think we can all agree from what happened to me when… well,” she hesitated for a moment, searching for words, “when we got Reecie,” she smiled awkwardly, then continued, “even I was confused about love. I was a lot older than you and a bit more experienced. I still got it wrong. One thing I can guarantee is that the feelings you have described that you have for Darius, I felt the same way about Jack. It turns out that he didn’t love me. We know this because his actions didn’t show love. He left us… He left me.” She looked so sad when she said this, Stacy wanted to give her a big hug. “Ultimately love isn’t a feeling. It has nothing whatsoever to do with feelings. Love,” she said this with conviction, “is a decision.”
“Well, I have decided to love Darius.” Stacy’s voice was firm.
“But,” said her mother, “has he decided to love you—really? And even if he has, would he make a good choice of husband?” She pulled a sheet of notebook paper from her pocket and put on her reading glasses. “Your grandmother and I have made a short list of things to be aware of when you choose
a future husband.” She peered at Stacy over the rim of her glasses. “Shall we go through them?”
Stacy shrugged, so her mother began.
“First and foremost, you want to look for someone who loves people and uses things, rather than someone who loves things and uses people.”
Stacy nodded. It made sense.
“Second,” said her Grandmother, “there is no such thing as ‘love at first sight’. There are many possible marriage partners out there from which to choose. You need to find the very best one. You owe it to your children and,” she paused for emphasis, “you owe it to yourself.”
“Little things to pay attention to:” her mother began to list them, “does he like to spend time with you, or is the bulk of his time spent elsewhere and with other people?”
“Does he like children and animals?” Grandma Annie interjected. “Then again, does he like them more than you—could be something wrong there!”
Her mother took another turn. “Does he have expensive tastes? Does he always have to have the best for himself? In a family, finances become very significant. Believe me, you don’t want a husband who puts himself before you and the kids.”
“And what about work?” her grandmother chimed in, “does he have a work ethic, or is he likely to call in sick on a whim? You need a person who can be relied upon to provide. He has to take work seriously.”
“As far as that goes, how