By Any Other Name Read online

  The exchange took only a few minutes and then everybody ripped off wrappings like little kids to see what they’d been given.

  Julia was ecstatic over the earrings. “Oh, Kate. They’re gorgeous. Thank you.” She hugged me.

  Molly was equally happy over the gift certificate.

  I opened my gift from Cindy and held up an adorable stuffed bear—another to add to my collection. “I love him!” I squealed. Cindy smiled, nodded and gave me the thumbs-up sign.

  The laughter and teasing stopped, however, when a loud, artificially high voice sliced through the merriment. “Ohhh, gang, would you look at this.” Claudia Jackson was waving an arm in the air. “Guys, look. See what Rose has given me.”

  For some reason, I closed my eyes and sucked in a deep breath. Breathing was difficult and I felt lightheaded. Then I opened one eye to see what was going on in Claudia’s corner of the room. Composing myself, I looked over at the striking blonde whose clique was one of the biggest in the freshman class, not to mention the entire school. To my dismay, Claudia held up a chipped ceramic figurine of a peasant girl carrying a basket of roses.

  “Isn’t this just too, too lovely?” Claudia said with such affected pleasure that I winced. My eyes shifted to the diminutive figure in the far corner. Rose Coughlin stood motionless, head bowed. The silly, half-smile was plastered on her face as usual.

  A wave of nausea rolled over me. My hands felt clammy, and I wiped them on my skirt. I knew, even though I don’t know how I knew, that the figurine of the peasant girl with her basket of chipped roses had probably meant a lot to Rose. It might’ve been the only pretty thing she owned. The fact that it had roses spoke volumes. Rose Coughlin loved roses. If she had a cheap figurine of a girl with roses, it had to be special.

  I wished I could somehow let the class know this without making a big deal of it and refocusing the attention on me. I was struggling with a dilemma I didn’t want any part of, but I knew this ugly discard from a garage sale was probably more priceless than any of the nice gifts purchased at the mall. This gift had come from the heart. The earrings I’d given Julia, although given with love, were nothing compared to this little gift. I’d given from a generous allowance my parents gave me every week. Rose had given from her meager possessions, which amounted to zilch.

  A new, unfamiliar resolve filled my mind and heart. With a courage I didn’t know I had in me, I sucked in another lung full of air, squared my shoulders, and marched to Rose’s side. I can’t explain how wildly my common sense and emotions vied for dominance but believe me, it was major awful. I hesitated only a second then said above the tittering around me, “Rose, that’s so pretty. Looks like an antique.” To add emphasis to my remark, I did something that afterward made me practically lose consciousness. I looped my arm—my arm, for crying out loud—through Rose’s and actually had the guts to lead her away from the corner. Mrs. Abrams, who’d been noticeably silent, chose that precise moment to speak up.

  “Yes, Rose, I think the figurine is utterly whimsical,” she said in her no-nonsense voice. When a few students dared to snicker, she stopped them with one meaningful glare over the rim of her turtle shell glasses. No one else said a word for several seconds and then, the incident was put aside for a more pressing issue: food. Everyone got back in a partying mode. Everyone, that is, except Claudia and her crowd. They swept into the farthest corner and sat huddled in a tight knot. Giggles and snorts erupted now and then, and you didn’t have to guess the topic of conversation. But for some reason, I didn’t care.

  Grabbing two cans of soda, I motioned for Rose to sit in one of the empty chairs. “Here, Rose, have a soda.”

  Rose took the can but didn’t pop the top. I opened mine and took a long gulp. I swallowed too much of the fizzy liquid too quickly. A less than quiet burp escaped and I blushed to the roots. Rose’s lips twitched.

  I grinned. “Oops, sorry. I don’t usually do that. So not refined. I hope nobody heard me.”

  Rose shook her head. “No,” she said, “I don’t think anyone heard that. Not with all this confusion. I-I hardly heard it and I’m sitting right beside you. D-don’t be embarrassed, Kate.”

  I was amazed. I’m not sure I could explain it if I tried, but what she just said filled me with this absolute total amazement. I mean, that’d been the most words at one time I’d ever heard Rose utter. Hearing her speak like an almost-normal person stunned me. Suddenly I felt like I’d bitten off more than I could chew. I looked around the room, almost frantic, hoping for some attention from my friends. Nancy sat in a huddle with Jenny, Molly, and Julia at the far side of the room. They weren’t paying any attention to me at all and I kind of thought that a little weird.

  Then a horrible thought crashed down on me and for some reason I knew they were talking about me. I’d crossed the line. I’d done the unthinkable. I’d betrayed my friends. I’d attached myself to the very person you didn’t attach yourself to. I could now be labeled a “Coughlin” by association. Oh, lord, what had I done?

  “Excuse me, for a sec,” I said to Rose and hurried over to my gang.

  Molly was the first to look up. Clearly she was startled. “Oh! Kate, I—”

  Nancy whirled around, her face flushed with emotion. Before I could say a word she hissed, “How could you, Kate Merrick? How could you do such a stupid thing?”

  “What did I do? What did I do besides saying something nice to a classmate? All I did was to say how nice I thought the gift was. What’s so criminal about that?” I felt the tears spill onto my cheeks. Chagrined, I wiped them away.

  “Kate! You practically told Claudia that she was an-an ingrate.” Nancy whispered. “It was a stupid figurine, for god’s sake. It was ugly. And—and cheap, and just plain garbage.”

  “No, it wasn’t. That’s just the point. You guys have no idea what that stupid figurine meant to Rose. She adores roses and that figurine of the girl and her stupid rose basket was precious to her. Don’t you get it?”

  My friends looked at me for a moment in silence, like, maybe, I’d sprouted horns or something. Finally Julia said quietly, “You’re right, Kate. We shouldn’t have laughed.”

  “Okay, okay, let’s just forget it happened and have a good time,” Nancy said. “The bell is going to ring before we know it, and we’ll be free for two whole delicious weeks. Let’s just change the freakin’ subject and talk about what we’re going to do over the holidays. Okay, guys?”

  “Okay.” I smiled as fresh tears streamed down my cheeks. I felt like a major loser. Why was I acting so pathetic?

  Nancy threw her arms around me and gave me a big hug. Julia followed then Jenny and Molly. I can’t tell you how great that made me feel. Everything would be okay after all.

  “Okay. Everything’s back to normal. Let’s party.” Nancy laughed, linking her arm with mine.

  I let my friends propel me toward the snack table. Only once did I glance toward the solitary figure across the room. Rose was still sitting in the chair holding the can of unopened soda, the silly, little half-smile fixed securely on her face.

  ELEVEN

  Even though I’d had a super time at the party—after the little fiasco, that is—I was kind of down when I walked into the house that afternoon. Mom called out her usual cheery greeting from the kitchen, but I couldn’t respond with the same enthusiasm. I was barely holding it together as it was.

  Mom took one look and was all over me. “Kate. What’s wrong, sweetheart? Something happen at school? Didn’t Julia like her present?”

  I flopped in a chair, folded my arms on the table, and buried my face in them. Mom walked over and placed a hand on my head, stroking tenderly. “Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad, can it? Do you want to tell me about it?”

  “Oh, Mom, it was awful. I feel so empty, I don’t know what to do.”

  “Well, then, you better start from the beginning and tell me what happened,” Mom said. “Sit up, now, and I’ll listen.”

  I don’t know what came ov
er me but I poured out what happened at the stupid class party. I described the chipped figurine, and Claudia’s reaction to the gift. I told about how I’d brazenly sided with Rose, and how my friends had lit into me like I’d committed the worst crime. I even told her how I’d not had the courage to stand up for what I deep down knew was right.

  “You see, Mom,” I was desperate to explain so she’d understand. “It’s a horrible, tangled mess. All these years I’ve treated Rose like, well, like dirt; all these years she’s just been a non-person to me. And then…and then—”

  “And then suddenly she became a human being,” Mom finished.

  I looked up at my mother with a huge ache in my chest. “I feel so bad inside. I didn’t know what to do.” I choked back a sob. “I mean, gosh, Rose Coughlin is-is abhorrent. You know? She smells. She dresses in these god-awful clothes—I don’t know what came over me to say what I did, when the others were m-making fun of her gift. But I knew. Don’t you see? I knew how much that stupid piece of junk meant to her. She loves roses. That figurine was probably the neatest thing she owned, and sh-she g-gave it away and e-everybody laughed.” The sobs erupted like lava from Mt. St. Helens.

  Mom let me cry for several minutes before she handed me a handful of tissues and pulled me to a standing position. “Kate,” she hugged me, “you’ve learned one of the most important lessons there is to learn on God’s green earth. You’ve learned the meaning of love.”

  I looked at my mother with thinly veiled exasperation. “L-love? You’re not serious. I don’t want to love Rose Coughlin, for crying out loud. Get real, Mom.”

  “Oh, Kate, yes you do. She’s a human being.”

  “Mother. Don’t you understand? If I’m nice to her I lose all my friends. I’ve worked pretty hard to achieve all I have, if you’d like to know. Last year I was a nobody, but this year I have a chance of being a somebody. I want my four years in high school to count for something.”

  “Oh, Kate…”

  “Mom! Please don’t ‘oh, Kate’ me. Put yourself in my place. Have some empathy for once.”

  “Honey, I am putting myself in your place. Don’t you think I remember what it was like to be in high school with all the cliques and—”

  “Okay, okay, please don’t tell me about when you were my age. Anyway, I didn’t show love for Rose. That’s just it. Even though at the time I was feeling really sorry for her and trying to put myself in her place, I was a coward. I let my friends talk me out of being nice to her. And Rose just sat there. The idiot just sat there, taking it. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Rose say an unkind thing about anybody else. And all this time—all these years—we’ve all gone out of our way to ignore her because of where she lives, who her parents are, how she dresses and smells and—”

  “So, then…where do we go from here?”

  “I don’t know,” I wailed.

  Mom shook me gently. “Oh, Kate, yes, you do.”

  I studied the floor for several minutes, counting the colored tiles as though they were infinitely interesting. A couple of sniffs broke the silence.

  “Well?” Mom was on a roll.

  I had to look at her. “Well, as I see it, I have only two choices.” I swallowed. “I can continue ignoring the loathsome creature and go along with my friends and be happy and excel…or—”

  “Or?” Mom prompted.

  “Or I can befriend Rose and, in so doing, l-lose all my friends and become a distinct failure with no future.”

  “You don’t know that,” Mom chided. “They just might surprise you. Your friends are very sweet girls, and caring. Why, I’ve seen them volunteer at school and at the local nursing home. Remember that day when you all made little flowerpots and brought them to the elderly residents at the home?”

  “Oh. That was eons ago—in grade school, for Pete’s sake. And we didn’t like it there and vowed we’d never do it again. The place stank, and the people drooled and clutched at you if you got too close. I mean, we only did it for that stupid badge in Brownies. Don’t you remember?”

  “Well, I guess…it was longer ago than I’d remembered, but—”

  “Please, Mom. Let’s face it. No one wants to befriend Rose Coughlin, let alone get near her. She’s pathetic, Mom. You should smell her. I mean, would you want to be near someone who smelled like a used sanitary napkin? Please!” I breathed out a long sigh. “And anyway, it’s just not as simple as you want to make it. You didn’t see everybody’s reactions during the party. My reputation is on the line. All I’ve worked for—everything—is under minute scrutiny.”

  Mom only hugged me tighter. “Well, I’m sure you’ll handle it just fine. Now go upstairs and wash your face. Or, better yet, take a nice hot bubble bath and relax. Put on your pj’s and I’ll phone Dad to bring home a movie. Which one should it be?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t want to see a movie.”

  “Yes, you do. You love our movie nights, and you know it. Which should it be?”

  “Mother!”

  “Kate.” She hugged me. “Come on. Be a good sport. What movie?”

  “Okay, okay! I guess classic Disney would suit my mood tonight. Tell him to get Herbie. It’s lame but I like it.”

  “Great. Good choice.” Mom sounded relieved. “I’ll order pizza, and put the chicken I had out back in the refrigerator for tomorrow. How does that sound?”

  “Fine.” My smile was weak.

  “And, honey, don’t worry. Everything will turn out okay. I promise.”

  “Yeah, sure,” I agreed just to appease her. My mother had to be one of the most naïve people on the planet, but she meant well. The fact that she was an eternal optimist in a less than optimistic world was what endeared her to others. Nothing for me to do but gather my stuff and head upstairs to the relative normalcy of my room.

  Closing the door, I tossed my tote bag on the floor and flopped across the bed. The bubble bath sounded good, but I didn’t have the energy to get it ready. All I wanted was to close my eyes and wish this day over. How such a wonderful day could turn out so dreadful was beyond belief. I’d been happy just a few hours ago, and now I felt like a part of me had died. The old Kate Merrick was gone. In her place was a new Kate; one I didn’t recognize. So what was I supposed to do about it? Join a convent or become a missionary?

  TWELVE

  Thursday went by without incident. I helped my mother clean the house in preparation for the holiday guests. Uncle Jim, Dad’s older brother, and Aunt Susan, and my cousins—Mike, seventeen, Joe, fifteen, and Sam, nine—were coming from St. Louis to spend the weekend before Christmas. Loved them all, of course, but Joe and I were like clones. Always a riot when we were together.

  After that, my grandparents on Mom’s side of the family were coming from Illinois to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Then on the twenty-seventh, we were piling into the car and driving out to visit Dad’s parents and his younger brother, Matt, and family on the farm where Dad grew up.

  All the running around boosted my spirits. By Friday evening, I was bouncing from the sofa to the bay window, impatient for the excitement to begin.

  Excitement? Understatement of the year. We packed a ton of fun into the weekend, and I thought I’d keel over by the time Sunday arrived. My cousins left Sunday afternoon. Three hours later my mom’s folks arrived.

  Monday was spent catching up on the Schroeder side of the family; Christmas came and went; we rushed around like gerbils in a cage, and then it was all over. It’d been an awesome four days, and we still had the farm to look forward to. Talk about intense.

  After our last guest had left and we’d gotten the house back to normal, we were bushed. I left my parents collapsed on the couch, said goodnight, and headed upstairs, where I showered, got into an over-size T-shirt, then sat on my window seat. This had been one of the best Christmases ever. I’d gotten a lot of neat things and had had so much fun with everybody.

  Leaning my head against the window, I let out a long sigh, closed my eyes
for a moment then opened them. The full moon cast eerie shadows on the front lawn. The whole yard looked surreal; a fairyland in soft silver.

  My thoughts took a side street. For some inane reason, the moon made me think of Rose Coughlin and her horrible plastic garden. Don’t ask me why. I tried to imagine what the moon saw as it gazed down on her house. Was Rose sitting by her bedroom window looking outside, reminiscing contentedly over the day’s happenings?

  What had Rose’s day been like? Did she have relatives who loved her and brought her presents? I kind of doubted it. The thought that today, so beautiful and special, could have been just like any other day in the life of Rose Coughlin made me shudder. Life was like this totally major conundrum.

  THIRTEEN

  The trip to the family farm took an hour. I couldn’t wait to see everyone. Uncle Matt, Dad’s younger brother, was following in his father’s footsteps and staying on the farm. He and my Aunt Terri had two small boys, ages three and thirteen months. Peter, the todder, liked to hear himself talk, and I loved hearing him go on and on about stuff that happened on the farm. The baby, Davey, was cute enough to eat.

  The Merrick farm was all a farm should be, if you know what I mean. There were wide-open spaces with all the scents of rich soil and things growing; a large barn with an immense loft filled with sweet-smelling hay, and lots and lots of animals. My grandparents and uncle raised hogs for slaughter, so there were always baby piglets to play with.

  As we drove along the long, winding road to the homestead, I lowered my window to breathe in the varying pungent smells found only on a farm. The cold air rushed in, and Mom gave a small shriek.

  “Kate, close the window. It’s December, sweetheart, not June.”

  “Oops, sorry,” I laughed. “Chalk it up to major excitement. I’ve missed all the deliciously wonderful smells.”

  Dad grimaced. “Wonderful smells, she says. Wonderful smells? Who are you kidding?” he chuckled. “I grew up here, remember?”