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Their non-answer answers my question.
“While we were waiting for you, Lucinda, we looked around at your… clothes, if you can call them that,” Dad says, gesturing at my closet, which holds the costumes I’m sure he’s referring to, “and Sandy here was able to get into your laptop and look at your history thing. You know, that shows the kinds of things you look up with Google.”
They got into mycomputer?
It’s all too much. Too much to absorb the absurdity and the gall of it. Too much to accept that I’m building a life away from these people, and they want to snatch it all away from me like it means nothing.
My chest hurts from the fury building in it.
“C’mon, honey,” Mom says in her church lady voice, “come home with us and all will be forgiven.”
Forgiven?
“We know you’re up to something sinful, sweetie,” she adds.
At least they got that part right.
“I’m not leaving. Sorry you came all this way,” I say, pulling on a jacket and grabbing my backpack.
A hand lands on my arm and before I look to see who it is, my skin crawls. Because I know darn well who it is.
“Sandy, get your hands off me,” I hiss, yanking my arm back.
But he’s not dissuaded. In fact, he doubles down by gripping my wrist so hard I can’t twist away. “Lucinda, if you would just repent and leave behind this life of sin you’ve adopted, all will be forgotten. In time.”
Mom nods enthusiastically. “Honey, two of your old friends recently met new fellas at the church dance. The one you missed that was organized by Melanie. Who, by the way, you have not called back either.”
I feel badly about that one. I do owe Melanie a return call.
But if I keep getting sucked back into the life I left, how will I be able to continue to create my new one?
“Honey,” Dad starts to say, “I know you don’t want to give up your exciting new life here in Chicago. You know God loves you, but when you run around wearing whorish dresses like the one you just had on—”
“JUST A MINUTE,” I yell.
Oh no. I just yelled at my father.
And the world doesn’t swallow me whole. Just like it didn’t swallow me when I got naked for Max, Rowan, and Greyson and did… things with them.
The God my parents and Sandy talk about is vengeful and scary.
But the God I’ve gotten to know in recent weeks is kind and understanding. I know this. I feel it in my bones.
My new concept of God is completely and totally different from what I was brought up with and doesn’t pass judgment on everything I do. No, my God is the beautiful flower growing in the crack in the sidewalk, the kindly Sam, who watches over me where I park my car at work, and the miracle of my old junker of a car continuing to chug along, getting me from one place to another even when it should have died a long time ago.
My God looks out for me. I wish my parents could see that.
Sandy, I don’t really care about.
I cross my room toward the door. “You can leave now. All of you.”
Sandy narrows his eyes while tears spring to my mother’s, and my dad drops his head, shaking it over my being a lost cause.
When there’s a knock on my door.
* * *
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
