Matters of Faith Read Online Free Page B

she answered, picking up one of Meghan’s EpiPens and turning it over in her hands, her voice turning vague and painfully bored. “All-natural, no pesticides, natural fertilizers. We grow everything in the community. Whole foods, no preservatives.”
    â€œIs everyone a vegetarian?” I asked. Meghan slid the drawer shut on her DVDs and turned to listen to Ada.
    â€œNo,” she said with a shrug. “Hey, what’s this about?” She held the EpiPen out to Meghan, who cast a quick, doubtful glance in my direction.
    â€œThat’s Meghan’s EpiPen. It’s a shot of epinephrine, in case she has an allergic reaction,” I answered.
    â€œMarshall told me about that,” Ada said, placing it back on Meghan’s desk. “You know, all these allergies now, they’re really just the result of preservatives and altered foods. Have you ever tried a whole foods diet? Cutting out all preservatives, additives, anything not totally organic?”
    I laughed. Not just at the question: What hadn’t we tried? But at the audacity of this child to even ask the question. “Meghan’s allergies are tied to her immune system, not to preservatives.”
    Ada looked skeptically at Meghan. “So, you’ve tried a whole foods approach?”
    Meghan shook her head. “No. But eating animals is gross,” she said, and I looked at her in surprise. She’d never mentioned being interested in vegetarianism. Meghan glanced quickly between us. “I mean, I like a hamburger sometimes, but, I don’t know, maybe we could try the whole foods thing? Maybe I wouldn’t need the EpiPen?”
    â€œSweetie,” I said, “there’s a difference between being a vegetarian and what Ada’s talking about—”
    â€œYou know there’s a lot about exposure therapy online,” Ada said. “Have you looked into that at all? Marshall and I were reading about it—”
    â€œMeghan’s first exposure was plenty enough,” I said firmly. “Thank you, Ada, but we have a good system now and everything is fine.”
    â€œBut, Mom,” Meghan protested, “you’re not even—”
    â€œYour mom’s right,” Ada quickly interrupted. “Of course. I shouldn’t have even said anything. I’m sorry.”
    Meghan shrugged and looked uncomfortable. “It’s no big deal, Mom,” she muttered.
    The silence was full and seemed somehow specific, weighted, as if it were pushing softly at me. They clearly wanted to be alone. I felt, for the first time with Meghan, that it was time for me to back off; she didn’t need a chaperone.
    â€œWell. You girls get to know each other and come down when you’re ready for a snack,” I said, and they looked at each other with small, satisfied, and very adult smiles. I heard Meghan’s door close quietly, and I stopped for a moment, listening to the low laughter that filtered out of my daughter’s room.
    Marshall rounded the corner with two suitcases and seemed surprised to see me at the top of the stairs. I motioned for him to come up.
    â€œHey, you. Need some help?” I asked, holding my hand out for a suitcase.
    He shook his head. “No, I got it.” He pounded up the stairs, skipping every other step, and covered their length in seconds, landing beside me without even losing a breath. “Ada in with Meghan?” he asked as he passed Meghan’s closed door. I followed him to his room, where he swung his suitcase up on the bed and dropped the other one, Ada’s I presumed, by the door.
    â€œYeah, they seem to have hit it off,” I said, now leaning against my son’s doorframe, keeping that Mom distance, feeling more natural about it now that I was with Marshall. “She’s very pretty.”
    He fumbled with the clasp on his suitcase, his face in quarter profile to me, enough to see a smile tease his lips. But he