"It's nice having young people in the house again," Jodi's grandmother said. "Jodi nearly went to stay with her aunt and uncle in Madison, but we're happy she decided to stay here."
"Oh?" I looked at Jodi. "You had a chance to go to school in Madison, Wisconsin?"
Chapter Sixteen
A week later on a Friday night, Jodi and I skated at VanderVeer Park with fifty or sixty other people under a silver moon surrounded by bright stars that never blinked. Lights on telephone poles hurled their beams on the frozen pond, and music for skaters, mostly waltzes, drifted through the night air.
On my rented skates, I was a skater who lurched, stumbled, waved my arms for balance, and then fell flat on my face. Or on my butt. That my skates were rented had nothing to do with my lack of skill.
Jodi was a different story.
Though pregnant, she flew around the pond on her grandmother's old skates, gliding and whirling and pirouetting like an Olympic contender. She was great.
When we tired, we sat on the big snow bank surrounding the edge of the rink and watched the other skaters, our breath making little steam clouds in the cold air.
After skating, as I drove Jodi home and parked in front of her grandparents' house, she asked me to come in. "My grandfather really wants to meet you."
The street was silent. The streetlights and the moon cast a silver gloss on the mounds of plowed and shoveled snow.
"For my autograph?" I asked. "Or to chew me out?"
"Autograph, probably. Actually, my grandparents are happy we're seeing each other."
"They don't think that you and I...that we...?"
"That we'll get married?"
I nodded.
"My grandparents are old-fashioned, so I guess that's what they think, but I wouldn't marry you, Michael. Ever."
I sat back in the seat and looked at her. The way she'd said it—snobbishly, as if I weren't good enough for her—stung. "Hey, I could make a good husband and father, if I wanted to."
"The if is too big." Jodi swung her door open to get out of the car. She never let me help with doors.
The inside of her grandparents' house smelled of baked goods, a friendly smell that seemed to invite me right in. Her grandparents bustled in the kitchen making cookies. Her grandmother pulled a tray of golden-brown ones from the oven and set them on the top of the stove to cool. The cookies were cutouts of Christmas trees, Santa Clauses, snowmen, and reindeer.
Her grandfather sat at the kitchen table peering through thick glasses, icing a batch of cookies with pink frosting. My mouth watered. My mom was beautiful, hard-working, and loving. But she was not a baker of pies, cakes, and cookies.
"Take some," Jodi's grandmother said. "Sugar cookies. There's plenty."
"Maybe just one," I said.
"We always start making Christmas cookies right after Thanksgiving. Freeze them. Then give them away to the church. The needy."
I grabbed an iced Christmas tree, then couldn't resist taking a snowman.
"So you're Michael Panther," Jodi's grandfather said, his pale green eyes huge and watery behind his glasses.
"Yes, sir."
"I remember you at Kennedy Elementary." He licked frosting off his thumb and forefinger. "You were big for your age even then. What are you now?
"Six-two. One-ninety-five."
"Got any speed? Any quickness?"
"Fair."
"You should be able to play somewhere."
"I hope so."
"Did Jodi tell you I was a principal?"
My mouth was full of cookie. I nodded.
"I told him, Grandpa," Jodi said for me.
"I watched you play flag football for the Kennedy Tigers. I knew you'd be a good high school player. Got college offers?"
"Yes, sir. Michigan. Penn State. Iowa."
"Iowa?" His eyes turned bright.
"My first choice."
"Iowa's good. Where do you want to play?"
"Tailback if I can. Or maybe just placekick. Or punt."
"What'll you major in?"
"Business. I'd like to get a MBA, eventually. Start my own business. But I don't know what yet. I'd like to work outdoors."
"You got the grades?"
"Yes, sir."
He nodded approvingly, as if I'd passed a test. Maybe a test to see if I qualified to be his granddaughter's husband. Height. Weight. Education. Goals.
He pointed. "Have another cookie. No need to be bashful."
I grabbed two more cookies, a Christmas tree and a reindeer.
Apparently, I'd passed the test.
"It's nice having young people in the house again," Jodi's grandmother said. "Jodi nearly went to stay with her aunt and uncle in Madison, but we're happy she decided to stay here."
"Oh?" I looked at Jodi. "You had a chance to go to school in Madison, Wisconsin?"
Madison was a big city, I knew. Its school district surely had a program for pregnant teen girls.
Jodi flushed. "Yes, but—well, you see, I'd never stayed with my aunt and uncle before."
"Did you talk to them? Ask them?"
"We're almost strangers. And Grandpa was having his eye surgery...he needed me..." Her voice trailed away.
"Oh, that was nothing," he said, waving his hand.
"Makes no matter," Grandma said, smiling. "We're so happy she came to stay with us."
"I'll bet," I said.
I flicked a glance Jodi's way, but her eyes avoided mine.
So...Jodi could have gone to school in Madison. She'd lied to me. At least, she'd made it sound as if she'd had no other choice but to come to school in Grandview. She'd never mentioned Madison as a possibility. Never. That was, at least, a lie of omission. Had she lied to me about Luke and herself? What other secrets was she keeping?
The thought that she was out to trap me loomed in my mind again, though she'd said not more than twenty minutes ago she'd never marry me. Apparently what she wanted was child support. She probably thought the friendlier we were the more money she'd be able to wring out of me.
I looked away from her. I felt tricked. Betrayed.
Or was I wrong? Jodi was here because she loved me. She wanted me to love her and the baby. Could that be?
Really, I didn't know what to think.
Confusion seized me again.
I'd enjoyed our eagle watching and skating, our talking and laughing. Yet no matter how attracted I felt to Jodi, doubt and mistrust always seemed to cloud the picture. But the bigger issue was this: I realized if the baby was mine and if I became totally involved with Jodi, I would surely lose my focus on football, college, and a career. Every dream I had would fade from view. Like an eagle disappearing in the sky. The eagles Jodi loved to watch.
This was scary.
When I drove away from Jodi's grandparents' house that night, I told myself I needed to back away from Jodi Jackson. Keep things simple. Like I'd told Oz. Keep. Things. Simple.
Coming Wednesday—Chapter Seventeen: Oz screws things up for Michael
