Golden & Gone

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Connor McGill smiled up at me from across the church bench. I feel my pale cheeks blush slightly and my hand goes up to readjust my light colored creme church hat and my other to re-smooth my matching church dress. My gloves are sweaty and stuck to each of my fingers thanks to the deathly heat from the un-air conditioned church. I removed my eyes from his and refouced them on the pastor who was preaching his sermon on purity and not being lustful. The image of Jacob and I in the woods flashes before my eyes and is enough to make my face resemble the wine from communion that we are soon to take. 

As we file up to take communion, I became conscious of Conor purposely trying to position himself in the opposing line to be paired up with me for the walk down the aisle to receive communion. I glanced up to his honest and searching eyes, so unlike Jacob's clandestine ones. He dropped his eyes before I had the chance to look away, allowing me to study his face without him watching me study him. 

Just as we stand side by side, ready to escort one another down the aisle to receive communion, Mrs. Potts, an ancient 98 year old woman, taps on my shoulder to ask if she can take my place and walk down with Connor since she needs to use the bathroom and wants to get communion over as quick as possible to deal with that pressing issue. Connor, as ever polite, though slightly flustered, offered out his arm to help to stabilize old Mrs. Potts. 

So, I was paired up with Mr. Townley, the school's music teacher, who gently whispered in my ear "that he was disappointed that Connor didn't get to walk down with me considering that he had petitioned Mr.Townely to let him switch places with him so he could be next to me. And in exchange, had to mow Mr.Townley's lawn for the next month for free.; it can be hard to get the old church sticklers to let someone pull cutsies, I should know, I often like to get communion over with as quickly as possible. I kept my face smooth like a porcelain mask. Hiding my emotions and the anxiety creeping into my stomach.

In my town it is tradition to go over to some church's member's house for a potluck every Sunday after service. Today it is at my house and my mother had been preparing and cleaning for weeks in anticipation. The housewives may all be Christians, but that didnt mean that they were anywhere near above rubbing in their new sets of china and family recipes in each other's faces. My mom had her new vase positioned in the middle of the kitchen with all the food placed strategically around it.

 I walk into the kitchen and grabbed a carrot from the nearest platter. 

"Hey mom, why don't you put some flowers in the vase. It looks like of sterile in here with just a big vase as the focal point. I can go and grab some for you if you would like?". My mothers blank expression turns to face me and I feel the razor underneath her pleasant smile and hear the disappointed undertones she always uses with me. 

"Oh, Brie. It's a statement piece. You wouldnt understand. It's far above your understanding". Ouch. And plus, how she thought vase was a statement I don't know, but I do know that the only message that the vase carried was how shallow the water in it as well as how shallow the rest of the housewives were, my mother included.