Waiting For You

Chapter Sixteen

"You are the finest, loveliest, tenderest, and most beautiful person I have ever know- and even that is an understatement"

~F. Scott Fitzgerald

Alex

I heard the loud knocking on my door, but I couldn't force my body to move. I was tired. The knocking kept on going and I pushed my face against my pillow and groaned. Without even warning my door flew open and my mother started yelling.

"Alex, what are you doing still in bed?!"

"As you can see I'm trying to sleep," I moaned back, not raising my head to face her.

"Trying to... Alex, I want you up and ready to go in ten minutes. And, oh Lord, your room's a mess!"

"Ready to go where?" I muttered exhausted. I felt her hand on my back as she now started waking me up by shaking me.

"Are you serious? It's Sunday morning. We're going to church. Even Chris showed up yesterday to come to church," she yelled back. "Seriously, your room... I'm not your maid, you know. I shouldn't have to clean up your messes!"

"I didn't ask you to clean it up," I murmured, turning my head to the side, but still not opening my eyes. I felt her come closer.

"What shirt is that? I've never seen it before... and you've never worn that cologne," she said, grabbing the shirt I was currently wearing. One of Hunter's shirts. My eyes snapped open and I rolled in my bed until my back hit the wall. As far away from her as possible.

"Can you please let me sleep?" I asked her, not answering the question about the shirt or the cologne.

"No, we're going to church and then we're going to volunteer to the soup kitchen. And you're coming along".

"Mom," I groaned, trying to get to understand that I could not move a muscle.

"Fine. But don't think you're done with it, even though you have missed it a couple of times," she finally gave in and headed out. "Going out on Saturday nights, doing God knows what with God knows who, and ending up exhausted the next morning," she muttered. As soon as I heard my door shut close I sighed.

Fuck. I needed coffee.

***

The three days before our anniversary passed rather quickly. Wednesday afternoon, we were both at Hunter's place, thinking about how we were going to spend the day.

"Since we spent last time at the Art Museum, now we should do something you want..." he said, sitting back and running his fingers through my hair. I was, currently, sitting on the floor, scratching my guitar strings, tuning it, but I was listening to him.

"Something I want?" I questioned, thinking about how I wanted to spend our anniversary.

"Yeah, is there something you've been meaning to do for a while, but haven't been able to?" he asked, his hands traveling from my hair to my chest. My eyes wandered to the little plush animal that rested on his desk. The one I had won at the carnival.

"Well, there's this one thing... but I don't know if you'd want to spend our day like that..." I told him, putting down my guitar and turning around to face him. "You see, every Sunday morning my family and I go to church..." I paused for a moment and his one eyebrow started going up.

"You want to take me to church?" he asked.

"No... um, after the service, we go and volunteer at the soup kitchen. And lately, I've been tired on Sundays and I haven't gone there for almost two months. So, I was thinking we could..." I didn't get to finish that sentence because his lips met mine.