Where She Found Herself.

Chapter 3

In the five days since my conversation with Katie, I wish I could say I wasn't affected. That I jumped into my new life feet first. But that would be a lie. I spent the last 4 days becoming well acquainted with the basement and my new books. I finished up the last one, EON, last night. It wasn't what I expected to say the least, but it was a great distraction. Now that my brain has some quiet time though, it's the perfect breeding ground for intrusive thoughts. I'm going to ask Pa if we can go back to the book store today.

In a gentle effort to coax me from my basement cave, Ma announced from the top of the stairs last night that her old knees just can't take all this up and down anymore. It's a fib, I've never known anyone as fit as her. Either way I knew what she really meant, If you don't start coming out of that room the meal train is going to stop. That's how I found myself pulling on real clothes for the first time in a week at 9am on a Sunday. If I'm going to venture up the stairs, I might as well make it all the way to church. I wonder if Declan is going to be there?

Stop, Beth. After my conversation with Katie, I turned my phone off so I don't even know if he tried to contact me or not. I knew the temptation to Facebook stalk where I shouldn't would have been too strong if I hadn't. Shutting out all outside communication and losing yourself in a pile of books probably isn't the best method for making friends though.

I double check myself in my full-length mirror before heading upstairs. My light brown hair was cut in a short pixie for most of my teenage years, but in the last few months it had gotten away from me and was beginning to curl just at the tops of my shoulders. It didn't even look half bad for having slept in it wet. I didn't bring any makeup with me, so my pale face is bare. Not even a swipe of mascara, Momma would be so disappointed. I'd never thought I needed much makeup though. My plain brown eyes are framed in thick black lashes that most girls would kill for. My plump lips are perfect shade of pink, if I do say so myself. Yeah, I've struggled with acne, but let's face it, who hasn't?

The navy-blue dress is fitted at the top, then flares out starting low on my waist, the skirt stopping just below my knees modestly. The scalloped neckline and cap sleeves make me feel a little overdressed, but I think that's just my mood talking. I want nothing more than to crawl back into bed, but my stomach growls in protest at the thought. Even now the smell of bacon is wafting down the stairs to me. To make myself a little more comfortable I throw on my standard checkered vans and a light denim jacket before heading up for breakfast.

I slide quietly onto a bar stool with one goal in mind, diving head first into the biscuits swimming in gravy across my plate. Before the first bite even reaches my mouth Ma corners me with a bundle in her hands.

"I noticed you didn't bring any hosiery or heels; you can borrow some of mine for now. We'll go after church and buy you your own." She says pushing the bundle against my shoulder. With sarcastically sad eyes I follow my fork back down to the plate before taking what I now see to be nude panty hose and chunky black heels from her hands. They look exactly how you'd imagine a Southern Baptist grandmother's heels to look. Comfortable, is the only nice thing to say about them.

"Oh Ma, no thank you. I'm good." I try to say as politely as possible, covering my still full mouth with my napkin. "I haven't worn hose since I was in middle school. And honestly I'm good without the heels."

"Ah! You expect to just go to church bare legged, have you lost all your manners?"

"Well, yeah? I've managed the last 7 years without them. Please don't make me break my streak!" I try to joke with her with big pleading puppy dog eyes.

"Fine" she huffs, "at least wear something besides those sneakers. I may have some flats." She shuffles off mumbling something that sounds an awful lot like I knew I shouldn't have let your mother raise you. I can't help but laugh. She returns a minute later with a pair of black flats that look almost identical to the heels. I roll my eyes as I exchange my vans for the flats. They aren't uncomfortable, but I still feel like my creature comforts have been stripped form me.