What he did to her was the last straw for his mother. Shipping him to America, to the state of Washington, to be with his would-be father, his treatment of Natalie got him exiled from his London homeland. The loneliness he’d felt all along was finally achieved in real life.
The church is packed today, rows and rows of us, all joined together to worship on a hot July afternoon. Every week, usually the same people, all of whom I can call by their first and last names.
My family lives like royalty here in one of Jesus’s smallest venues.
My younger sister, Cecily, is sitting next to me in the very front row, her small hands picking at the chipped wooden pew. Our church has just received a grant to renovate some of the interior, and our youth group has been helping gather the supplies donated by the local community. This week, our task is to obtain paint from locals and paint these pews over. I’ve been spending my evenings going from one hardware store to another, asking for donations.
As if to underscore the futility I feel about this task, I hear a faint snapping sound and look over to see that Cecily has broken off a small piece of wood from her seat. Her fingernails are painted pink to match the bow in her dark brown hair, but boy, can she be destructive.
“Cecily, we’re fixing these next week. Please don’t.” I gently take her small hands in mine, and she pouts just a little. “You can help paint them to make them beautiful again. You would like that, wouldn’t you?” I smile at her. She smiles back, an adorable missing-teeth smile, and nods her head. Her curls move with her, making my mum proud of her work with the iron this morning.
The pastor is almost finished with his sermon, and my parents are holding hands, staring toward the front of the small church. Sweat has been gathering on my neck, rolling in sticky drops down my back as words about sinning and suffering float around my head. It’s so hot in here that my mum’s makeup has started to shine down her neck and smear black rings around her eyes. This should be the last week without air-conditioning we have to suffer through. Or it better be; even I might feign illness to avoid this sweltering place if it’s not.
At the end of service, my mum stands to talk to the pastor’s wife. My mum admires that woman a lot—a little too much, if you ask me. Pauline, the first lady of our church, is a tough woman, with little empathy for others, so really I get why my mum would be drawn to her.
I wave to Thomas, the only boy my age who’s in the Youth Group. As he walks by, he and his entire family, following the line of people exiting the church, wave back to me. Ready to get some fresh air, I stand and wipe my hands on my pale blue dress.
“Can you take Cecily to the car?” my dad asks with a knowing smile.
He’s going to try to get my mum to stop talking, just like every Sunday. She’s one of those women who chat and chat after saying goodbye a minimum of three times.
I didn’t take after her in that way. Instead, I strive to take after my dad, whose few words usually hold a lifetime’s worth of meaning. And I know my dad loves how much of himself has been passed down to me, from his quiet demeanor, to his dark hair and pale blue eyes (the most obvious traits), to our height. Or lack of height. The pair of us barely stand five and a half feet, though he’s ever so slightly taller than me. Cecily will surpass both of us by age ten, my mum teases us.
I nod to my dad and take my sister’s hand. She walks quicker than me, the excitement of youth causing her to rush straight through the remainder of the small crowd. I want to pull her back, but she turns back to me with the biggest smile on her face, and I can’t bring myself to do anything but run with her. We break into a sprint, rushing down the stairs and onto the lawn. Cecily dodges an elderly couple, and I laugh when she shrieks and barely misses knocking down Tyler Kenton, the meanest boy in our church. The sun is bright and the air is thick in my lungs and I run faster and faster, chasing after her until she tumbles onto the grass. I drop down to my knees to check on her. I lean in and brush the hair back from her face. Little pools of tears are threatening to burst, and her bottom lip is trembling fiercely.
“My dress . . .” She pats her small hands on her white dress, focusing on the grass stains on the fabric. “It’s ruined!” She buries her face in her dirty hands, and I reach for them, pulling them down to her lap.
I smile and speak softly. “It’s not ruined. It can be washed, darling.”
.em eveileb ot ydaer ton ,selffins ehS .keehc reh nwod llor ot gniyrt raet eht ssorca bmuht ym epiws I
.eil a s’ti hguoht neve ,reh erussa I ”,semit ytriht tsael ta em ot deneppah s’ti ;emit eht lla sneppah tI“
.gnipissog pots ot muM nettog yllanif gnivah dad ym ,noitcerid taht morf su gnihcaorppa era stnerap yM .tol gnikrap eht drawot drayhcruhc eht ssorca klaw ew sa reh dnuora mra ym peek I .raelc llA .gnihtyna ssim t’ndid I erus ekam ot smra elap reh revo ecnalg seye yM .dnats ot pu reh llup dna reh dnuora mra ym parw I .bif ym rof tuo em sllac ehS ”.ton saH“ .elims a sthgif ehs dna ,drawpu nrut htuom reh fo srenroc ehT
.taes s’revird eht otni pets I erofeb dad ym morf keehc eht no kcep a teg dna mum ym guh dna reh wollof I .taeskcab eht fo tuo sbmilc dna keehc eht no ssik kciuq a em sevig yliceC .yawevird eht ni skrap eh nehw gninnur rac eht sevael dad yM .kcab tuo snib ruo ni gnivah neeb ev’ew melborp nooccar eht tuoba mum ym ot sklat dad ym elihw koob gniroloc etirovaf reh ni seilfrettub elttil gniward ,yliceC htiw taeskcab eht ni tis I ,emoh evird eht gniruD
.efas eb ll’I taht dad ym esimorp dna don I .nus on tub ,taeh eht dah ev’eW .elihw a etiuq ni dah sah daetspmaH yad tseinnus eht s’tI .seye detniuqs sih edahs ot dnah sih stfil eH ”.nus eht htiw yadot tuo elpoep fo tol a era erehT .gubenuJ ,won luferac eB“ .em ta nwod skool dad yM
.gnihtyreve revoc ot hguone evah ew os eerht teg ot si laog ym tub ,hcae morf eno htiw yppah eb ll’I .gnitisiv m’I spohs eerht eht lla morf tniap fo stekcub eerht teg ot si laog yM .ytic eht fo retnec eht ot yaw ym no gnos yreve ot gnola gnis dna pu emulov eht nrut I .noitats oidar eht egnahc ot doohrobhgien eht fo tuo m’I litnu tiaw I
.retsiger eht ot yaw ym gnikam erofeb tnemom a rof llab ruf eht tep I .em fo tnorf ni teef sti no sdnal dna xob draobdrac a morf nwod spmuj tac A .sdnuos lleb a dna skaerc ti ,rood nedoow eht nepo I nehW .elbigel ylerab M eht ,dekoorc si ngis ehT .llawyrd elbatsnu dna sknalp nedoow fo tuo edam ,dlo si gnidliub ehT .tol eritne eht ni dekrap era navinim a dna der elppa-ydnac detniap rac elyts-cissalc a ylno ;tol ytpme ylraen eht ni krap I .mih teem ot dethgiled m’I dna ,aera ruo ni noitatuper doog yllaer a sah ,renwo eht ,kraM .nwot ni tsepaehc eht gnieb rof nwonk si ,ylppuS dna tniaP s’kraM ,pohs tsrif ehT
