Chapter 1- Some things never change…
I stood in front of my closet, picking my way through a selection that had barely changed since ninth grade, trying to find something church appropriate. After nineteen years of living in the same little house, on the same little street, in the same little town with my same little family, everything was starting to feel exactly that. Little. Small. Stifling. So, I moved to a slightly bigger town, twenty miles away. And the deal was, I could eat, sleep, and do homework at a different residence, as long as I was in my same pew in Sundays, and apart of as many family functions as possible.
I reached for my crème blouse and orange skirt combo, jumping when I heard the loud crash of metal hitting linoleum and after which followed an even louder string of expletives. I still wasn’t used to having a roommate. Well no, more like I wasn’t used to my current roommate. Living with my step sister Lisa, sharing a house and bathroom with her taught me how to live with people, but most people I’d ever been exposed to were nothing like Nick…
“Are you okay?” I called out hesitantly. No response. Not surprising, Nick hardly ever spoke to anyone before her first three cups of morning coffee. When I heard a shuffling of feet, then the coffee maker clanking and clacking to life, I figured she was fine, and went back to getting ready.
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It was 10:20 when I put the last touches on my hair and smoothed the last of the crinkles out of my freshly pressed skirt. I was late.
Nick was sprawled out on the couch, watching something involving dirt bikes, and gulping down still steaming coffee, in boxers and a tank top.
“You’re sure you won’t reconsider?”
She turned and rose an eyebrow at me, then turned her attention back to her program. Inwardly, I sighed in relief, then immediately felt guilty.
“Okay then, I’ll be back later.”
She waved her hand in the yeah-okay-whatever-now-leave-me-alone kind of way. I grabbed my purse and keys, then left. Our apartment was amazing. It wasn’t grand at all, I’d seen bigger closets, and it was sparsely decorated, a couch, a television and a kitchen table was all that was in the public areas. But the building itself was made out of a beautiful McNear brick, and had a spacious lawn in the front; although from my window you could really only see the parking lot. But I didn’t mind that. I pretty much loved the city as a whole. Maybe it was because I’d hardly ever gone further than my own front door, maybe it was because I’d watched too many movies and given myself a false view of college life, but after last year, my freshman year at Riverside University, I would have given my left arm to get out of Dover. It just seemed like more of the same, wake up, go to school, come home, do homework, eat dinner, repeat. I wanted something different. Something more.
My parents were paying half rent for me until I found a job, and there were four stipulations. I had to find a job within six months, because that was when they would stop paying my half of the rent. I had to keep my grades up. I had to come to all family functions possible. The last one was unofficial, because my parents were only paying half rent and I wasn’t working, it was decided that I would have a roommate. But when they saw who I would be rooming with, I could tell it took every ounce of willpower that my mother possessed not to call the whole thing off right then and there.
Nick, or Nicole Galinger as she first introduced herself, made quite an impression to say the least. Bleach blond hair with purple streaks, chipped nail polish, clothes that looked like she had been poured into them, chains on her jeans, piercings and combat boots. Worst of all she was wearing a shirt that read RECRUITER.
When my ultra conservative parents calmed down, they came to the conclusion that this could turn into a great opportunity for me to “witness.” My mission from then on became to get Nick to church by any means necessary, so that she could experience the love of Jesus Christ, and repent. Somehow, I knew that Nick wouldn’t be one of the most receptive people to this message…but I promised I would give it a shot anyway. I couldn’t see Nick sitting beside us on a pew, singing hymns and listening to Reverend Michaels.
I could hear the choir from all the way out in the parking lot, even before I turned off my car and radio, and I had to smile. As much as I might have complained about wanting to leave home, it was still home.
Inside, most of the seats were taken, but I was able to find my family with no problem. David, my step dad was the tallest person in the congregation, mom was singing the loudest an Lisa, my step sister who was going through a “rebellious” phase that mom proudly swears I never had, was the only one in denim, her skirt barely reaching her knees. I joined in the singing and clapping as I made my way to my seat.
“One day when I was lost, He died upon that cross, and I know it was the blood for me-“
Mom looked at me from the corner of her eye. “ ‘Bout time.” She said under her breath, then continued singing. “He’s coming back again, He’s coming back again, He’s coming back again, for me! One day when I was lost, He died upon that cross, and I know it was the blood for me.”
The reverend stood in the pulpit when praise and worship had concluded.
“Let the people of God say ‘Amen’.”
“Amen.” We all said in response.
“If you would all take your Bibles, and turn with me to Luke 6:20 which reads-”
I had forgotten my Bible at home. It wasn’t a big deal, I knew this scripture by heart anyway, so I said the words along with the rest of the congregation. My mother looked on with David, her eyes following the words in the book, but she was not saying the scripture, instead she asked me quietly “You’re alone this Sunday?”
“Nick didn’t want to come, I couldn’t very well shove her into the car.”
The look on my mother’s face suggested that she might have, and I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes, concentrating instead on the reading of the word.
When the passage was read, and another ‘Amen’ was said, we took our seats. Outside, it couldn’t have been more than 70 degrees, but inside with everyone pressed together on the pews and sweating from having clapped and sung themselves into a stupor while wearing their best three piece Sunday suits or long cotton dresses and hats, it felt more like 85. The slow moving ceiling fans didn’t help, more spreading the hot air around than giving a cooling breeze. The windows weren’t open, they never were, and I had never understood why. The hand fans made of cardboard with pictures of Jesus and Mary and Joseph or doves with halos of sunlight surrounding them were reserved for the senior citizens and expectant mothers, so the rest of us were left to suffer. By the time the sermon was over and the last prayer was said, my blouse was sticking to my skin, and my hair was beginning to frizz.
“Gracie!”
I turned to see a tiny frail old woman in the same pearl pink suit and white hat that was bigger than her actual head that she wore every Sunday. I hugged her gently.
“Good afternoon Sister Evelyn, how are you?”
“I’m alive and kicking, though not as strong as I used to,” she laughed. “I didn’t expect we’d see you here, heard you’d moved on to bigger and better and thought you’d forgot all about us. You know so many of the college kids do that now, completely forget their roots, and just up and with abandon the church and all their home training. Breaks my heart to see it.”
“Now Sister Evelyn, you know I could never do that. I’ll be right here in my same pew, every Sunday just like always.”
“Yes, she will I’ll make sure of it.” Said my mother from behind me.
She gave Sister Evelyn a hug and asked “How have you been keeping dear? And how’s Arianna that new husband of hers?”
“Linnae, the Lord has been keeping me and mine just fine, and I’m more than thankful to Him for it.” sister Evelyn replied with a smile.
“I’m glad to hear that. Well come on Grace, the family is waiting. It was so good to see you Sister Evelyn, stay well.”
“Good to see you Sister Evelyn.” I echoed, following my mother when she turned, walking in the direction of the parking lot.
“You know what, I was going to invite the Carson’s over for dinner, but I didn’t see them today. I do hope Brenda is doing okay with that child of hers. Since you’ve got your car, why don’t you go on over and bring Nathaniel with you, Lord knows he could probably use a break from all those sisters of his. He can bring them with him too if he’d like, we’ve got plenty of food, but I highly doubt that he will.”
Nathaniel Carson had been my best friend since third grade when he first moved to Dover. We met in the cafeteria and he had a Capri Sun and I told him I loved Capri Sun’s. He’d given me a Capri Sun every lunch hour since then, all the way up to our senior year in high school, and whenever I went over to his house, he always made sure that they were fully stocked. There was even a time when I came over after a really bad fight with my mother over something stupid, at three o’clock in the morning, and he left me in his room without telling me where he was going. It turned out that took a drive to the all night gas station right off the freeway at the edge of the city to buy me a box of Capri Sun’s.
Much to my mother’s delight, we dated for a short while in high school. She was more torn up about it than either of us were when we figured out that we just worked better as best friends. She still treated Nate like her son.
“Can I go?” Lisa asked, when she heard the plan about me going to the Carson’s.
“Never you mind, Nate will be coming over with Grace anyway.” Mom told her. Pouting, Lisa got in the back seat and slammed the door. She had a crush on Nate, which he did absolutely nothing to discourage. He thought it was cute. I thought it boosted his ego way too much. Mom sighed in exasperation and said to no one in particular “I just don’t know what I’m going to do with that girl.”
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I thought about the scripture for today’s sermon on the way to the Carson’s.
“Blessed are ye poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are ye that hunger now, for ye shall be filled. Blessed are ye that weep now, for ye shall laugh…But woe unto ye that are rich for ye have received your consolation, woe unto ye that are full, for ye shall hunger. Woe unto ye that laugh, for ye shall mourn and weep…”
The Carson’s used to be one of the wealthiest families in Dover. Nate’s dad was, of all things, a divorce lawyer. Nate was the only child for a while, but in the summer of out freshman year, his mom had baby Clara, then after her, Sydney and Tarryn, the twins, and now she was expecting again. Nate’s dad left after the twins were born, and it was rumored that Mrs. Carson didn’t know who the new child’s father was. Mr. Carson had been the families only source of income. Mrs. Carson worked for a while after he left, but she’d never finished high school, the jobs she had were nowhere near enough to keep up her family’s life style, and all too soon she’d had to stop working completely because of the baby. Nate brought home the paychecks now, though they were incredibly tiny.
I really hoped the Carson’s hadn’t used up all of their good days, I couldn’t see a just and loving God doing that to them. They were the nicest people that I knew, and no one really knew if Mrs. Carson was having her new baby out of wedlock, it was perfectly possible that she’d gotten pregnant before Mr. Carson left. Although most people suspected that was why he left.
I pulled into the driveway and Nate and Clara, who’d been playing in the garden, raced to my car. Nate let Clara win, and she gave him a huge, smug grin.
“Gracie I beat him!” she shouted triumphantly, then turned to Nate when he got to the car and said “I beat you!”
He hung his head in mock shame. “Can’t believe it. I was beaten by a girl.”
Her giggling turned into a shriek when he picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder. “Hey Amazing Grace how sweet the sound. Heard you’d split, never to be heard from again. What brought you back? Can’t handle life in the big city on your own?”
I rolled my eyes, smiling. “Shut up, you know I hate it when you call me that, and I’m handling life in the city just fine thanks. My mom wanted me to invite you to dinner, she would have done it herself, but somebody wasn’t in church today.”
Nate looked down, “Yeah, I had to work. Hang on, let me get this one back in the house and tell Ma where I’m going.”
“How is your mom by the way?”
“Almost bigger than our house. She’s about to deliver in another month or so. Like we need another rug rat running around here.” He jostled Clara a little on his shoulder, to let her know that he meant her.
“I am not a rug rat!” she shouted indignantly.
“Oh yes you are.”
“Nuh-uh!”
“Yuh-huh.”
“Nuh-uh!!”
He laughed, and kissed her cheek, to which she responded with a face and a “Yuck!”
“Be right back,” he told me, then began running towards their house, Clara bouncing and laughing on his shoulder.
The condition of their once lovely house seemed to get worse every time I saw it. Chipping paint, loose siding, the screen door lay against the railing of the porch. But Mrs. Carson always kept her garden looking beautiful. Sunflowers, tulips, pretty red roses, that woman could get just about anything to grow just about anywhere. I looked at the dining room window, and saw three little faces looking at me and waving. I waved back, smiling.
Nate picked two roses when he came back out.
“Who are those for?”
I inquired when he got in the car.
His gray eyes gleamed mischievously. “One is for your mother, and one is for that wonderful, fascinating, exquisite sister of yours, who I must say, has impeccable taste.”
I shook my head. “You’re such a flirt. It’s going get you into trouble one day.”
“One day.” he agreed, pulling the safety-belt around himself. “But I’ll burn that bridge when I come to it.”
There was nothing I could do but smile, and start the car. I accused him of being a flirt just as often as he called me Amazing Grace how sweet the sound, and he never listened to me on either subject when I told him to stop. It was our thing.
“Where’s my flower?” I asked him, pulling out of the driveway.
“You were right there, why didn’t you get your own?”
“Rude!” I playfully slapped his arm.
“Nuh-uh, my days of bringing you flowers are way over, remember?”
“Even still butt munch, ever heard of chivalry?”
“Whoa! Such language! And on a Sunday, you should be ashamed,” he joked, “besides, didn’t anyone ever tell you? Chivalry is dead.”
“Doesn’t mean you are. Though, you keep at it, you might be. Lisa may only be my step sister, but she’s my sister nonetheless.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I know you Carson, possibly, no, probably, better than you know yourself. You’re the wham bam thank you ma’am, love ‘em and leave ‘em type. Lisa’s too fragile for that. Don’t make me have to make it look like an accident.”
He grinned “Oh Gracie, only the good die young.”
“Yeah and at this rate, you’ll never die at all.”
“My point exactly. Jesus smeesus, the real key to everlasting life? Enjoy every second of it.”
I shook my head. “Only you, blasphemy on a Sunday.”
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We spilled out of my car, clutching our sides with laughter. Lisa was waiting on the porch, in fishnets under her skirt, a deep V-necked shirt and a pair of small black heels that I’d never seen before. Her hair was down, her lips over glossed. It was the only make up that mom would let her wear until her 17th birthday, house rule. I elbowed Nate lightly as we made our way up the walk. He ignored me, and gave Lisa a sweeping bow when we reached her.
“My lady.”
Her face lit up. “Oh my gosh, this is just like on the bachelor.”
My eyebrows rose, “Mom let’s you watch the bachelor?”
Lisa lowered her voice, and looked at the door. “She doesn’t know I do, but I don’t see why she wouldn’t-“
“No need to explain yourself darling, Grace is just jealous.”
I snorted. “Jealous. Okay, sure, let’s go with that.”
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Inside smelled like lasagna. David was yelling at some college football game on t.v. Lisa and Nate followed me into the kitchen, where mom was putting the finishing touches on the salad.
“Nathaniel! So good to see you, how’s your family?”
“Mom, you’re gonna squeeze the life out of him.”
“No it’s alright Ms. Allen. They’re good.”
“Glad to hear it. Grace is right though, you are much too thin, I practically could squeeze the life right out of you, couldn’t I? Well, we’ll fix that, come, come, sit, sit, David! Dinner’s on the table! Oh sweetheart is that rose for me?”
Through the meal, Nate was the quietest I’d ever known him to be. Not like Lisa really gave anyone a chance to get a word in edgewise, as she regaled us with how she tried to join the high schools cheer team, but that “witch” Jennifer McDowell, the captain, thought she’d made a pass on Ernie Taylor the half back, Jennifer’s boyfriend. So the entire team hated her now, and she couldn’t join.
Nate hung around after the meal even though David offered to drive him home, and I helped mom clear away the dishes. She packed up some food in Tupperware, then pulled two frozen pies from the freezer. We’d already eaten one for desert.
“Mom when did you have time to cook all of this? “
“I made the pies yesterday and froze them.” She gave them to me. I knew the Carson’s situation truly bothered her, so I just took all of the containers without making any remarks.
“No rush to come home, but be safe.”
I rolled my eyes at the double meaning of her words. “Mom, am I staying the night? I was just planning on going back home. “
“This still is your home, besides, it’s much too late for you to be driving so far.”
“Mom.” I sighed. “I don’t even have any pajamas. Or clothes.”
“Fine.” She said in her passive aggressive way. “ Excuse me for missing my daughter, and not wanting to hear about her death on the 6 o’clock news, because she fell asleep at the wheel and wrapped her car around a tree, instead of just sleeping in her old bed like a reasonable person.”
“Mom.”
She turned to me. “I just miss you Gracie.”
“I’ve been gone a week. Besides, the house isn’t exactly empty, you’ve still got David. And Lisa.”
“You’re right.” She turned back to our leftovers, then eyed the food already in my arms.
“Do you think I’m sending enough?”
“Yes mother.”
“Okay. Go, shoo, get gone.” she said, shaking the dish towel at me.
I smiled “This from the woman who was nearly just in tears about me leaving.”
“I love you Gracie.” Her voice had softened, taken on a tone that meant she was about to get sentimental if I stayed much longer. I readjusted the food in my arms.
“Love you too mom.”
Lisa watched me pack the food in my car, securing it so it wouldn’t fall and spill all over, she was playing with her flower.
“You’re so lucky.”
I turned to her. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
“You get to leave.”
I gave her a questioning look as I straightened up and closed the side door to my car, leaning against it.
“I’ve been here since I was five. I’m bored.” She explained.
I looked up at Nathaniel, who was on the porch, saying goodbye to our parents.
“You’ve got Nate. He can’t be too boring.”
Her eyes lit up as she followed my eyes to him. “You’re right, he’s definitely not. I still don’t know why you gave him up, but I’m glad you did.”
I tried to hide a smile as Nathaniel hugged my mom and came toward us.
“I feel like I’m being talked about.”
“You were.” I assured him. Lisa shot me a look. “Come on, I better get you home.”
“Right-o.”
“It was perfectly marvelous to see you again Nathaniel.” Lisa said breathily, with some kind of accent I guessed was supposed to be sexy. Nathaniel, by some miracle, kept his face composed as he swooped into another flamboyant bow and took the hand that wasn’t holding the flower, kissing it lightly.
“My lady.”
Lisa looked as if she might faint.
“Okay Romeo. Let’s get a move on.” I said, pulling his shirt sleeve with me as I walked him to the passenger side of the car.
Nate winked, and whispered “See?I told ya, she’s just jealous.”
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We didn’t go back to Nate’s house right away. It was only 9:40 and though the sun was almost completely down, there was still a small bit of light left and the lightning bugs were just beginning to come out. We lay side by side on the still warm hood of my car, under the old oak in the park, over looking the lake we used to jump into every summer when we were kids. The windows were rolled all the way down, and my stereo was turned all the way up. Randy Travis’s gravelly voice came through my speakers.
“Well I’ve heard those city slickers talkin’ ‘bout how they can love, deeper than the oceans, higher than the stars above. Well I come from the country, and I know I ain’t seen it all. But I heard that ocean’s salty and those stars they sometimes fall. That just would not do justice to the way I feel for you. So I had to sing a song about all the things I knew…”
Nate turned toward me and started singing.
“My love is deeper than the holler, stronger than the river, higher than the pine trees growin’ tall upon the hill, my love is purer than the snowflakes that fall in late December, and honest as a robin on a springtime windowsill. And longer than the call of the whippoorwill.”
I smiled. “Lisa thinks she loves you, you know. She thinks I’m stupid because I let you go.”
Nate smiled back. “Well I am a pretty good catch, I must admit.”
“Oh whatever! You’re so vain.” I laughed.
He waggled his eyebrows at me and continued singing.
“There’s at least a million love songs that people love to sing, and every one is different and every one’s the same. So this is just another way of saying the same thing.”
I joined him in the chorus this time.
“My love is deeper than the holler, stronger than the river, higher than the pine trees growin’ tall upon the hill, my love is purer than the snowflakes that fall in late December, and honest as a robin on a springtime windowsill. And longer than the call of the whippoorwill.”
When the song ended, Nate turned to me and said, “You were horribly off key.”
“Me?! What are you talking about, I’ve had 10 years of training in church and school choir!”
“I know, that’s what makes it so sad.”
“Oh shut up! Whatever.”
He shrugged. “Truth hurts.”
I turned away so he wouldn’t see me smiling. Nate was right, although he was mostly joking. He was quite a catch. Even without his fathers money, he still had an impeccable work ethic, he was smart, he doted on his little sisters, loved his mama to death. And the looks good wagon definitely did not pass him by. Deep stormy gray eyes, thick brown hair, perpetual farmer’s tan and wiry muscles. He was forever joking around, and though he occasionally went too far, he would almost always immediately apologize. He rarely ever got mad, he was an expert at taking things in stride, and smirking things off. Lisa wasn’t the only girl pining for him and she most certainly wouldn’t be the last. I’d known him before he grew into his ears, when he still had a chili bowl haircut and braces. Romantically, I was his first for everything and he was mine. That’s what, I believed, made our bond so strong.
I turned back over to face him. His eyes were closed.
“Nate?”
“Hm?”
“I wasn’t really off key, was I?”
He laughed, of course not. You were Amazing Grace. As always.”
It was quiet again for a moment, save for the crickets, frogs and my radio playing Doyle Lawson’s “The Girl in the Valley.” Then I asked “Nate?”
“Hmm?”
“What was up with your family today? Even though you had to work, your family could have still come.”
His face changed, pain flitted across it though his eyes didn’t open.
“Mama’s sick. Real sick. She might lose the baby. And besides, we sold the car, ‘cause when that bastard left he took his insurance with him and today’s doctors have got all high and mighty. Can’t work from the goodness of their hearts no more.”
I wasn’t sure what to say, so I said nothing. Eventually, he got up and walked around to the passenger side and got in, turning the radio down. I got in with him and turned on the engine.
“So tell me about your new place,” Nate said, changing the subject. “Do you like it? Bet it beats the hell out of here.”
“Ha. Yeah. It’s cool I guess. My room mate though…I think Mom and David are afraid of her. I kinda am.”
“What, is she like Goth or wiccan or something?”
“Not quite. She’s just…tough. And I think she might be a lesbian.”
“That’s hot.”
“Thank you Paris Hilton. Nate you’re disgusting.”
“I thought I was Paris Hilton?”
I shook my head and laughed, rolling my eyes.
“What? You’ve got to invite me over so I can watch some of that hot girl on girl action. Don’t be holding out on me Amazing Grace How Sweet The Sound.”
“You know I hate it when you call me that.”
“No you don’t.”
“Yeah, I really do.”
“Too bad.”
I pulled up in front of Nate’s house.
“Need any help getting it all in?”
“That’s what she said.”
I playfully slapped at his arm.
“Nah,” he said, dodging my assault, “if you could bring it all out here I can get it all in.”
“Okay.”
“Hang on a second though, before you leave.”
He went in and came back out, picking a rose as he went by the bush on his way back to my car.
“I know you’re all big time now, but don’t be a stranger. We grew apart enough last year with you going to school, and me working. I don’t want to loose you all together.”
“Pshaw, you can’t get rid of me that easily.”
He put the rose between the drivers side visor and the roof of my car. “ All the same, a week at a time is too long. I miss you Amazing Grace.”
“You know-“
“Yeah yeah, I know, you hate it when I call you that.”
I smiled. “Love you Nate.”
He stood on the lawn and shouted after me as I backed out of their driveway “Remember! Invite me over for all that hot les-!”
I honked my horn super loud, to drown him out, shocked that he would even dare risking the neighbors, much less his mother, hearing him shouting that. At the same time though, I wasn’t really all that surprised. It was Nate after all.
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It was odd after having spent all day with the family, to not sleep in my old bed. I entered the apartment as quietly as I could, afraid that I might wake up Nick, but as I passed her room to get to mine, I noticed that the door was open and it was dark inside. ‘Where can she be out on a Sunday night?’ I asked myself as I stripped out of my shoes and stockings, then my skirt and blouse. Then I started thinking about a plan for tomorrow.
It was early June, and school for me wouldn’t begin again until September. All of my focus since May had been on finding a room mate and then officially moving into the apartment. All of last week had been spent unpacking and getting to know Nick as much as I could. With all of the preliminary stuff out of the way, I guessed it was find a job time, then from there…go on about life. I was still getting used to the idea. I no longer had a curfew, and no one to check up on me just about every hour. It felt nice. Odd, but nice.
Job hunting was something I’d been hoping to put off for as long as possible, with no job experience and no idea where to start it was sure to be a challenge. But now I didn’t have much of a choice.
‘It’s a plan then.’ I thought to myself. ‘Tomorrow I’m pounding the pavement.’
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I got up at 9:00 the next morning, and either Nick was already gone for the day or simply hadn’t come home. I felt a twinge of worry, then figured that she was a big girl who could take care of herself, and was probably fine. In the bathroom, I turned the radio to the local bluegrass station and turned up the volume loud enough so that I could hear it over the shower, running a hand through my hair. It was knotted and tangled, just like every morning, and I tried to decide whether or not I wanted to comb it before washing it. If I didn’t it meant that I would have to work through the knots with my fingers while shampooing, which would take longer, and have me run the risk of running out of hot water. But if I combed it out dry, I would have a tender scalp and a comb full of hair. Not that my hair couldn’t use a good thinning…
People always told me I look like my mother. Her features were sharper, and much more defined than mine, she didn’t have freckles and her eyes were more seafoam green where mine were emerald. But I’d seen pictures of her when she was younger and I could see why they said it. Because although there was gray in it now, when my mother was my age, she had the most vibrant firey orange ringlets, same as me. Now her curls were more controlled and didn’t require as much maintenance. Nothing I put on my hair could keep it from frizzing if you so much as mentioned rain, and my mother always laughed whenever she heard me complain about it, and tell me that it was “the Dawson family curse.”
I finally decided to just take my chances with the water, not wanting to be in pain and therefore in a bad mood when I was trying to get a job interview. I sung along with Dolly Parton to “The Angels Rejoiced” as I showered and shaved. Bluegrass, country, and gospel were the music I’d been raised on. When I was younger, I had dreams of being a singer. I took choir all through school and sung in church choir until age 15. Now the most singing I did was around the house or in the shower.
I pinned my hair up, hoping that the inevitable frizzing would be less noticeable that way, then pulled on an old dress of my mothers. It was green like my eyes, thin cotton, with spaghetti straps and went all the way to the floor, on her it had reached just above her ankles. I loved it mostly for the little black sequined flowers sewn into the hem. I slipped on my flip flops, and applied a bit of concealer, hoping that he absence of my freckles would make me look less fresh faced, more mature. It didn’t work, my freckles were just as stubborn as my hair, and unless I put on so much make up that my face was a completely different color from the rest of my body, my freckles would still be at least a little visible. With a sigh I grabbed my keys and my small black purse, making sure to lock the door behind me.
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The entire town of Dover didn’t have half the things downtown Riverside had. Two movie theaters, countless shops and stores. The restaurants were amazing, albeit expensive. There was a Ben & Jerry’s and an arcade and three Starbucks cafés. I ended up parking my car at a meter and buying a pretzel with cheese and a Dr. Pepper from one of the vendors, deciding this was as good a spot as any to begin my job search.
I got distracted, and the day was spent less job hunting and more exploring, which was just as necessary. After all if I planned on working here, I would need to know my way around. At least, that’s what I told myself so I wouldn’t feel as guilty about having wasted the majority of the day.
There were all sorts of interesting characters downtown, I passed a person completely covered in silver paint, skin and clothes. They were pretending to be a statue, and would periodically change position, and gesture towards the hat on the ground that held loose change from people who’d enjoyed the performance. If it weren’t for them making those movements, I would have truly believed it was a statue. I’d thought, because they were dressed in a suit and top hat, that the person was male, but when they were done with their act, and took off their hat, long blonde hair flowed down her back. She smiled at the shocked look on my face.
A boy who looked too young to be much older than a freshman in high school stood on the corner by a restaurant called Nevaeh-Ni-Nede played fiddle furiously, and had attracted a small crowd, he was excellent.
There were plenty of college and high school students simply milling around, and enjoying the weather, business people on their lunch breaks, people in the bars. Only one of the theaters was actually operating, it had a large marque displaying all of the movies that were showing. ‘No. Freaking. Way.’ I thought to myself when I got to the very bottom. It read Clark Gable and Vivien Leigh, Gone with the Wind: Double Feature. I immediately grabbed my phone and began punching in Nate’s number. “D.T.E. Zero One. The number you have dialed has been disconnected-“ I looked at my phone in confusion, then hung up. Nate hadn’t told me he’d turned his phone off, it was odd, he practically lived with that thing. It was his life line, and the first thing his mother took away to punish him, but she hadn’t done that in a while. Then it clicked, the phone bill must have been too much of a luxury expense. A wave of sadness washed over me, and I made up my mind that one way or another, I was going to get him up here to see Gone with the Wind. It was our movie after all, we watched it every summer, when we slept over at each others houses. He always claimed to hate it, said that I would have him painting his nails and talking about cute football players next, but I knew he loved the film just as much as I did.
All in all I decided that it had been a decently productive day. I was so busy looking around that I almost got hit by two separate buses and got lost trying to make my way back to my car. I couldn’t even remember what street I’d parked it on. Eventually though, I found it, and fed the meter and was on my way home.
When I got there Nick was back, lounging on the couch with her arm wrapped around the shoulders of a girl with thick ropes of hair. The apartment smelled awful, and I actually started choking a bit.
“Kat could you open a window? I don’t think Grace is used to it.”
The girl named Kat looked at me and went to open the window with a heavy sigh.
“Thanks doll.” Nick said, giving her a kiss when she got back to the couch.
“Does this mean we aren’t smoking any more?”
“Not for a while. I told you, we can’t with my room mate in the house.”
Kat did not look happy about this.
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I picked up my devotional book from my desk when I got back to my room. Our church had A.C.T.S. classes that they held, in addition to Sunday services, and A.C.T.S. stood for additional church training school. It was like Sunday school on weekdays, but was only offered for the youth ages 5-17. A few members of the A.C.T.S. were selected to become leaders when they turned 18. I was one of the selected from my group.
I had already missed the A.C.T.S. meetings for the past two weeks, and it wouldn't look good for me or my family if I missed another.
Usually it was only too easy for me to loose myself in Bible stories, even though I’d heard them all of my life. Before, I tended to not pay attention, but now it was easier for me to imagine them as real people, not just characters. I couldn’t imagine being Eve. Or Jezebel. Or Mary. Especially not Mary. With all the trouble that surrounds teen aged or unwed mothers in todays super liberal to a fault society, I couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for her in her time. There was absolutely no way that every one simply accepted that she was pregnant without ever having been touched by a man, and there had to ba many that wanted to stone her and the baby she carried, or worse. It made me shudder to think, to imagine myself in her place.
But tonight, my mind wandered to the topic of what was going on in the next room. I had never before been in a situation such as this one, but I figured I had a pretty good idea of what was going on. I had expected something like it, that Nick would, from time to time bring a special friend home, but knowing there’s a possibility of something happening is much different from something actually happening, and I was confused. I knew that my mother would most likely go into the living room, berate them for being disgusting, and order them to leave, but I didn’t think I could do it. Surprisingly, I wasn’t as disgusted as I thought I would be, as disgusted as I probably should have been. I shook my head to clear it, and turned my attention back to the Bible verses I was trying to memorize.
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The following morning, I was late. Once again. I rushed through dressing, pulling on a white shirt and purple vest, with matching skirt and black flats. I was in the middle of trying to smear cream chesse on an untoasted bagle (untoasted to save time), when a sleepy eyed girl came in to the kitchen in rumpled clothing she’d worn the day before. Nick’s friend had apparently spent the night.
“Good morning.” I said, embarrased but still wanting to be polite. She looked at me then looked away, moving sluggishly towards the coffe machine. I nodded and gave up on my bagle, rushing out to my car.
Naturally, traffic on the freeway was backed up. Eating and driving didn’t mix, and I had a large bagle shaped cream cheese stain on my skirt when I pulled into the church parking lot. I took some left over napkins from another time I’d eaten in my car and tried to dab off the mess, but I only ended up smearing it, and making it worse. With a resigned sigh, I held my Bible in front of the stain and entered the church.
Kelly and Adrian were leading group already, opening prayer and praise and worship had already been done. I swept over the room with my eyes, looking for Nate, who wasn’t in attendance. ‘Must be working again.’
His younger sisters weren’t there either.
The kids were milling around, most of them wearing oversized teeshirts or aprons covered in paint.
I’d completely forgotten that today was the day we began work on the scenery for the church play, sort of an end of the class project showing off everything the kids had learned this year.
Kelly came up to me a semi frantic look in her eyes. She loved for everything to be neat and orderly, and this scene was everything but. There primary color streaks in her dark brown hair, as well as on the bottom of the left lense of her glasses. I tried to hold back a laugh at the sight of her.
“Not funny,” she snapped, “we could have used your help a little earlier.”
“Sorry traffic was terrible.”
“Nothing we can do about it now, is there? Adrian is supervising the glue, I was watchign the paint, but that pretty much all went down hill. Maybe you could give it a try?”
“Sure thing.” I smilied.
The kids weren’t so unmanageable, but maybe that was simply because I’d caught them on the later end of their excitement caused by the oprotunity to use paints, glues, and glitter. The older kids were supposed to be memorizing lines, but for the most part the talked amongst themselves, and a few helped distribute the snacks. When the day was over we had accomplished a lot, three trees and the daytime skyline were painted. I told Adrain and Kelly that they could go on ahead without me, since I was so late getting in, I would handle the left over mess myself. It took a little while, but eventually, the sanctuary and pulpit was free of glitter and paint and glue. Unfortunately I was now covered in it.
I couldn’t help but smile as I made my way to my car, back sore from having been bent over for so long. I remembered the plays that I had put on in my A.C.T.S. class. Usually I ended up in the chourus, but one time, I actually got to play Mary. I took that part so seriously, and nearly drove my parents crazy.
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It was a quiet ride back to the apartment, I could feel the beginings of a headache coming on and knew the best way to combat it would be a hot shower. When I got into the apartment, it was quiet.
‘Nick must be still out’ I thought to myself as I dropped the keys in the dish by the door. I was glad that her friend was now gone as well. I had the apartment to myself, and intended to take full advantage of that fact.
I felt better almost as soon as I stepped into the spray. The radio was playing and the warm water was massaging my sore back and washing all of the sweat and paint away. My headache subsided immediately. I began to sing along with the radio, and had just hit the high note in Alison Krauss’s “When you said Goodbye” when the bathroom door flew open and my soprano note turned into a shriek. I hit the floor in my rush to turn around and see the intruder, while at the same time, trying to cover myself with the shower curtain. Not that the shower curtain would have done much, being clear and all.
Nick glared at me from the doorway, hands on her hips, and shouted “Dude! It does not take all that to take a Goddamned shower, will you keep it down?! Jeez!”
There wasn’t much I could do in my shocked state besides close my motuh, which had been still open though I’d stopped screaming, and nod.
“Thank you!” She stopped glaring and smirked. “I didn’t mean to scare you, you were just really loud, and I didn’t get much sleep last night. By the way, nice rack.”
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