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“Because your father insists his coffee doesn’t taste the same without full fat creamer.”
I nod. “So it’s all right for him, but not me. I wonder why?” I say innocently and tap my chin as if I’m actually thinking about it.
“Because your father is a man, and he is already married,” she sneers. “How are you ever going to find a man drinking that fatty stuff?
I sigh and ask the Lord for all the patience he can spare me.
“Maybe I’ll find one who doesn’t judge me? That’s what I hope for anyway because I don’t plan on being anyone’s trophy wife.”
The paper in front of Dad’s face ruffles and falls, and he puts a reassuring hand on top of mine.
“That’s something no one should aspire to, especially not someone as talented as beautiful as you.”
I turn to my father and smile because his words are sincere, and he rarely makes waves by going against my mother.
“Thank you, Dad.” I turn to my breakfast, a grapefruit filled with cottage cheese, and groan.
“Mother, I told you I hate cottage cheese.”
As usual, she says nothing when I say something she doesn’t want to hear.
I reach for one slice of toast and a few scoops of scrambled eggs to go with my giant grapefruit. “Mother.”
She sighs and looks up at me. “Yes, Loretta?”
“Do you forgive all sinners?”
She puts her fork down and gives me her full attention, no doubt wondering what sin I have committed. “Yes,” she says eventually when it’s clear I’m not going to confess to anything. “You must forgive the sinner, if not for their sake, for yours.”
“Even the worst ones, like thieves and murderers?”
“Yes, even those sinners.”
Her expression is bland, but she loves to talk religion. The proudest of me she’s ever been was the day I declared Theology as my major, and we often enjoyed philosophical discussions like this one.
“There are reasons for everything, Loretta, and while the justice system may not take that into account, as Christians, we must. Can you condemn a man who has never known a moment of love or a friendly touch for living out the violence he’s been taught? The only thing he knows?”
I think about her words for a few moments, ignoring the surprise that someone so judgmental can also be so incredibly forgiving.
“So you’re saying the murderer deserves his punishment but not our condemnation?”
“Exactly. He’s already lost his freedom. Should he also lose the love of God and the church?”
“Of course not. Without forgiveness, what prevents him from turning away from God completely?”
“Exactly.” She smiles, her expression proud. “What brought on this line of thinking, Loretta?”
I shrug and take a bite of eggs to give me time to figure out how to explain without telling the truth.
“Nothing in particular, but all types of people come in to speak with Pastor Braden, and I wonder about the way he deals with them. He treats everyone the same, regardless of who they are or how they’re dressed. He smiles and jokes with them as if they’re old friends.”
She smiles. “Pastor Braden is a good man. It is not his job to judge but to guide them. Some people are lost, and some never had the tools to make the right choice.”
Like Shades.
“Thank you for your insight, Mother. I really appreciate it.”
This time she flashes a radiant smile that reminds me of the good times, when she’s not hypercritical of me.
