Old-Fashioned Love

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I stare at myself in my full length mirror. Oh golly why do I have such an inappropriate body?  Why can't I be like my mother, a women who has curves but looks decent enough to be pretty. I'm filled in the right places, but I wish I didn't attract so much attention to myself.

I swear by this summer i'll go more to Benny's diner and eat some of his special apple pie. I grunt, i'm all show and no go. I gently slip on my pink shirt-waist. There are no sleeves and the belt is green, it's ace. My brown hair almost reaches my mid-back and I push my long bangs aside. I step into my short white heels and peek out of my bedroom door.

I step out and slowly shut my door shut, praying that my sisters don't wake up. I cautiously step down each step of the stairs, one foot then another foot before I move on to another step. I make my way to the kitchen and begin cooking breakfast.

+++

"Poor women! Going off like she did, Right through the head," says my mother. We walk down the side walk, going to the town church. My four sisters and three brothers horse play behind us.

"I wonder why I women would ever leave her children and husband like that," I say shaking my head. Two little boys, four and eight. I could never imagine leaving such defenseless beings alone. I could never imagine being so sad to kill myself.

My mother scoffs,"Please Elizabeth April Chandler get your head out of the gutter. I heard she was sleeping with the milkman or at least that's what Betty Cooper told me down the street." I smile a bit. The old rumours of the town,  anything spreads like wild fire.

Many elderly people crowd around the entrance. Mr.Whitmore waves and smiles as we come closer, poor pops he's suffering from the measles. My mother leans closer so only I can hear,"Apparently that new maid that he hired is actually he's own personal prostitute," she embraces the mister and misses with completely falsehood.

I love my mother but sometimes she's has two sides, one that can talk behind your back. I nod and smile politely as I always do. I keep the children from bothering the other church goers. I do as I do, as any girl in the town of Willow does. Our job.

I can't show my real emotions because mother says what's the point of having a pretty face when you have an ugly attitude. We all wait around as my mother tries to talk to everyone, finally we make it up the steps and into the small church.

My family and I sit down in the front row. There's a tug on my dress, I look down and pat the hand. "Eliza, why do we have to like church?" says my little sister Emily, her blue eyes shining in the sun rays. I almost choke on my saliva. What can I say to that? I don't love coming but I don't hate it, it's comforting.

"Um....," I begin to say but thankfully father Reynolds begins the service. I try to hear the sermon but I find myself getting distracted easily. I watch the people around me, I watch the decorations and I mostly think about everything.

Before I even realize it my mother is pushing me toward the front for the Eucharist. I stand infront of father and repeat the words I have repeated many times before. Father hands me the thin bread and I begin to circle back when he grabs my arm.

He gives me an apologetic look,"Miss Chandler I would highly appreciate if you paid more attention, it is frowned upon," he says in a quietly. I smile and hurry back into my seat. I try to make the blush disappear from my cheeks.

I hate being berated. The priest continues with the mass as I focus to pay more attention. It lasts so painfully long. Toward the end I practically forget what was the lesson about today. I feel shame for almost crashing.