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Chapter Seventeen
Letty
I know I shouldn’t be surprised, but I’m listening to the sermon, and Shades isn’t here. I shouldn’t be disappointed either, but I am. I hoped Shades would at least take a minute to think about showing up for morning service.
Who am I kidding? But a girl can dream, can’t she?
“That was a wonderful service today, Loretta, don’t you think?”
My mom beams a smile at me, invigorated by Pastor Braden’s sermon about forgiveness and acceptance.
“It was wonderful, Mother.”
Pastor Braden is a brilliant speaker, and the way he manages to speak so eloquently about the most simple and basic matters keeps the pews full each week.
“Does that mean you forgive me for not being the daughter you dreamed of?”
She sighs and wraps an arm around me as we walk up the aisle and out of the church. The day is sunny and bright, not at all matching my current mood.
“You are the perfect daughter, Loretta. I just want you to have everything you deserve in this world, and I don’t want you to accept less, the way so many of us do.”
I stop and look at her in confusion. “You have a successful husband, a beautiful house, and apparently the perfect daughter. Isn’t that what you want?”
“Yes, but maybe a little more than that.”
I study her wistful expression and wonder what she’s thinking. What dreams did she give up becoming the pious wife and mother, pillar of the community that stands before me now?
“But I made my choices, and you have so many more available at your fingertips, Loretta. You were right last night. You deserve a chance to live your life.”
“Really?”
She nods. “Yes, really. I still think that handsome tattooed biker is heartbreak waiting to happen. And being with someone so rough-looking might make for a hard life. But you are a grown woman now, and I don’t want to stand in your way of happiness.”
I blink in astonishment, and a little snort escapes.
“Thank you, Mother.” I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight. I can’t remember the last time we hugged that wasn’t for show. “I appreciate that. Really.”
“Good to hear. Now I have to get downstairs before the blue hairs try to put their terrible casserole dishes that no one wants to eat front and center.” She presses a kiss to both of my cheeks. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Loretta. Will we see you for dinner?”
“Probably.” I have nothing else to do, so chances are good that I’ll spend the rest of the day at home. “Have fun battling the blue hairs.”
“I always do,” she says airily. Then, with a feminine finger wave that I can never pull off effectively, she saunters off back toward the church, a smile on her face, as she stops every few feet to greet fellow parishioners. Mother is a natural social butterfly, corralling people headed toward the parking lot to come back inside for the potluck, so those in need don’t feel left out.
I smile at their unsuspecting expressions as they follow her like she’s a Pied Piper for grown-ups. That’s Mom, a force of nature, making people do things they didn’t plan on doing, and later, they thank her for it.
I hurry away from the building before any churchgoers decide to pull me into conversation or a potluck lunch. Since I was running late this morning, I drove myself, so I can get home on my own.
Maybe I’ll stop at the diner to grab some lunch, sit beside the window and people watch. It’s something I enjoy doing on occasion, guessing the details of the lives of the people streaming by. Are they happy or sad? Satisfied with the state of their life or working toward a bigger goal? Who’s married, and who are siblings? It’s a game I play to occupy my time, and yeah, it makes me feel less pathetic about eating alone.
“Excuse me, sweetheart.” I look up at the sound of the deep voice that belongs to a tall drink of water with shaggy blond hair and dark, menacing eyes. He’s wearing a leather vest similar to the one Shades and his friends wear, only different. The patches and insignia are different, too. The one on his chest reads Iron Kings.
I take a step back, my self-protective instincts kicking in immediately.
“Oh, sorry, sir. I didn’t see you there.” I flash a wide, nervous grin and try to step around him. “Excuse me.”
Instead of staying where he is, the man steps right in my path. “Hang on, honey, what’s the hurry?”
“Is there something I can help you with Mister…?” I draw the word out, hoping he might fill in his name for me.
