Scrapbook of Secrets Read Free Page A

their religion in ways they hadn’t before—which, for Annie, turned out to be a good thing. She now found herself feeling more Jewish than ever, especially on the inside, and she heavily relied on that inner world she created.
    But now, Mike and Annie faced a dilemma they had not considered when they moved here. The local school system, which was good enough for a public school, still held weekly religion education classes, which were, of course, Christian. Annie was appalled to learn about this program in which children were bused from the school grounds to a local church for “Bible” study. At first, she thought it was a rumor—in this day and age, schools systems could surely not get away with such a thing. But, much to her dismay, it was perfectly legal in the state of Virginia and her local school system still practiced it.
    Since they were getting ready to send Sam to first grade the following year, she found herself wishing that they could send him to a private school. She had one year to figure this out, because the program started in first grade. Kindergarten in the fall would not be a problem.
    “Of course, we can just opt out,” Mike said to her one evening over spaghetti and their sons’ squabbles. “Damn good spaghetti sauce. It just seems to be getting better, this batch, I mean.”
    Annie smiled. She loved to make spaghetti sauce. When she did, it was huge amounts of it. She froze it and they lived off it for months. Her mood and frame of mind played into cooking it. All of those spices, herbs, and tomatoes frothing together sometimes brought her to the edge of delirium. And so, she mentally prepared herself. It was almost like having sex—so much more delicious after waiting much longer than one should.
    “Yes, that is what they say,” Annie said back to her husband. “But if your child is the one that stays behind while the others are being bused off to church, how is that child going to feel? What are they going to do with him?”
    “We’re Jews in a very Christian area. Ben and Sam are going to have to learn to deal with this sometime.”
    “Yeah, but not when they are six years old,” Annie said.
    “I’m six. I’m six,” Sam chimed in, giggling. “I’m six years old.”
    “Silly boy, you are not six,” Annie said to her son, whose face was covered in spaghetti sauce. She just had to laugh.
    “I better get going.” Mike popped up and was off again, briefcase in hand. At least this time it wasn’t his suitcase. His job in pharmaceuticals took him away at least once a week. After four years, it was getting a little easier because Sam could be helpful—if he wanted to be. And he was not as needy, of course, as when he was younger.
    Thank God for that.
     
     
    Now, today, as she watched over her sons playing with puzzles, Annie thought, This is good. I can handle this. I wonder how long this quiet and cooperation will last.
    Her next thought, What am I going to wear tonight? What does one wear to a scrapbooking crop?
    “Ow! Mommy, Ben hit me with a puzzle!” Sam ran to her, and then buried his dark curls into her lap.
    “I sorry,” Ben said, immediately at her side.
    “Ben, don’t hit your brother,” Annie said. “Time-out.”
    “No!” he said, and growled at her. Literally growled at her.
    “Ben, go sit in the chair. Now.” She tried to sound authoritative without yelling.
    He folded his little arms. “Hmmpphh.”
    “We do not hit,” she said, still cradling her oldest son. She watched her younger walk away toward the chair. Could see his heavy diaper. Oh, great, another diaper change.
    While still holding Sam, she noticed her fingernails, uneven, chipped, and dirty. She at least needed to cut them before her big night of scrapbooking. She sighed.
    While she knew it would seem strange to Yolonda, Annie had been working on this night for a long time. She sorted photos and put them in a much-used paper gift bag, which she set on top of the china cabinet so that her