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The romance between Frank and me was built on years of friendship. We understood that our friendship, which grew into love, was as natural as an acorn becoming an oak tree. After that day under the tree behind the Methodist Church, everything felt different to Frank and me. We no longer seemed like kids who were friends. To Frank, I think love like this meant he was a grown up, even though he was only 16. He began to think about me as his girl and someday his wife and about him becoming a man. Some of what happened that November day I know because I was there, but some of it was told to me later by Frank.
I CARE SO MUCH FOR E. She is so easy to be with. We talk about everything—what’s happening in the world since The War, what we wish for in the future, and she even indulges me when I go on and on about sports. She and I were down by the grove of fruit trees one Saturday in November. The trees were in full fall color. It was like we were sitting in a sea of yellow and orange that day. There was a cool breeze, so we sat close to each other. Mt. Rushmore was on my mind for some reason and I said, “E, I saw in the paper that they are almost finished with Mt. Rushmore. You know that mountain where they carved Presidents’ faces. Let’s go out there and see it someday. Since we are going to travel the US together, let’s put that place on our list. I want to see how they carved faces in the side of a mountain.”
I’m always planning for the future. E is the practical one. She said, “Just how are we going to get there, Frank? We don’t have a car, and you can’t afford one.”
Keeping my dream alive, I said, “I hear Ford is producing a Model A that will be affordable to most people. Not just the rich. Someday I will be able to buy a $500 car.” E seemed deep in thought. She usually likes to debate my dreams until I stop. But today she didn’t.
E looked at me, put her hand under my chin to raise my face to hers and said, “Frank, we have to talk about something important.” I could tell she was serious so I just listened.
E said, “I have missed my monthly cycle twice now. I talked to Momma about it. She asked if you and I had been having sex. I told her we were petting a bit. She asked if I had been feeling sick to my stomach. I told her I feel like throwing up most mornings. She seemed certain that meant I was pregnant.”
There were tears in E’s eyes. And they were not tears of happiness. She looked like she was scared. I asked her how we would know for sure. E said her momma said she could go to the doctor and have the test, but then the whole town would know. She said unless the test would make us do something different, there was no need. She also told E if she didn’t have a period this month, it’s pretty certain.
I know a lot of things but nothing about this. I didn’t know what it meant to do something different. All I knew is I wanted to marry her and have a family, and that’s what I told her.
Well, I thought I said something wrong because she started crying real loud, and tears came gushing out. I said, “What? What is it, E? What’s making you so mad?”
She grabbed my shoulders and put her arms around me and said, “You are the best person in the entire world! I thought you would want me to get rid of it. We are too young to be parents or even to get married. I want to be your wife someday, but I didn’t think it would be now!”
I laughed and said, “Heck, girl, don’t you know how much I love you? It won’t matter whether we get married now or five years from now. I will be the luckiest man in the entire world to have you be my wife! Now kiss me, you fool!”
We did a lot of kissing that afternoon. And we had sex, and it was as wonderful as ever.
Just when we headed for home, it began to rain. Maybe it was an omen. Then I was the one who got quiet. It dawned on me that we had to tell my parents. That would not be easy. My mother would not be as understanding as E’s mother. She worried so much about appearances, and she often said she had plans for my life.
In my mind I began putting the plan together on how to tell my parents, but things did not go as I hoped.
The next morning my parents and I went to the Baptist Church. My mother loves going to church. She says it’s wonderful to hear God’s words. I think it’s more about being seen. She always dresses in her finest clothes and shoes. She also buys Dad and me clothes for church. We all had to look our best. More than a few times she said, “It makes me happy to show off my family!”
Well, I figured I would take advantage of Mother’s good mood after church and tell her and my father my good news. We often went to Sally’s Diner after church, and I suggested we do that today. More time showing off her family and being in public would keep Mother from throwing a fit when she heard what I had to say.
As we walked up to the church, I saw on the sign placed next to the church door announcing the sermon topic—“Sins of our Day.” That made me a little nervous, but who knows which sin the pastor will pick. According to Pastor Brown, most things in life are sins. After the first hour passed, he began his sermon.
He began, “Today I will speak about a subject that might be difficult for the young people to hear. So, fathers and mothers, if you are worried about what your child hears, let them go outside and play.”
He paused for a few minutes to let the children go outside. The Sunday school teacher led the children down the aisle and out the door. They all seemed excited to leave.
Pastor Brown started in. “We live in the Roaring Twenties. That is what the papers say. I agree. Our country is roaring with sin. Women wear immodest clothes that show much of their body. Men drink alcohol until they pass out in the streets. Mobsters kill each other just for territory. Families spend money just because they have it. Yes, these are roaring times. Times of sin.”
I closed my eyes and blocked out what I was hearing. I didn’t want to hear his version of what God condemns or what He looks upon favorably. I knew he would find quotes from the Bible to back up his words. E and I often talked about the Bible being used for whatever people want to believe. There are passages for whatever goodness or sins you want to say is the truth. This made me furious, so I blocked out most of what Pastor Brown was saying.
Then I heard him talk about sex, and it jolted me back to attention.
“People talk about intimate relations in public as if we all want to hear about it. The movies, the music, the liberated woman all indicate that sexual immorality is everywhere. Push away temptation. Use your will to avoid these immoral behaviors. Paul reminds us of God’s words in 1 Corinthians 7:2, “but because of the temptation to sexual immortality, each man should have his own wife and each woman her own husband.” And in 1 Corinthians: 8-9, “To the unmarried and the widows I say that it is good for them to remain single, as I am. But if they cannot exercise self-control, they should marry. For it is better to marry than to burn with passion.”
I looked over at my mother and father. They were listening intently, as they usually do. I was glad they were paying attention. This would be my argument for marrying Ethel.
Pastor Brown went on for what seemed like an eternity, but it gave me time to line up my points for the conversation with my parents. Then I heard the last sentences that the Pastor uses in every sermon. “That is the word of God. Thanks be to God.”
As everyone repeated “Thanks be to God,” I almost shouted it. My mother gave me a smile bursting with pride at her son loving the word of God. If she only knew why.
On the way to the diner in town, I was putting together my thoughts about the conversation I needed to have with my parents. Mother was eager to know what I was thinking about, and she asked me what I liked most about the sermon.
I was quick to answer. I said, “I finally understand how important marriage is to not being a sinner.” Dad raised his eyes to the rearview mirror and gave me questioning look. Mother just looked down at her hands. It is not often that she is quiet when the subject of sin comes up. To me, the silence in the car was curious and funny at the same time.
To fill the silence, I said, “I’ll explain when we sit down for lunch.” Mother started fidgeting with her gloves, and Dad could barely take his eyes off me in the backseat to drive. I wished I could hear their thoughts.
The diner was packed. I led us back to the far booth. Sitting further from the door would make it easier to have a conversation. I wanted to do this in the diner because I knew my parents would be calmer in public. But I also did not want people to overhear what I was saying.
