Searching for Love

Chapter 15

It isn’t long before Cindy calls me down for dinner. Of course I got no work done. Who would with this much excitement? I put down my geometry book and run downstairs. Taco night. It’s a celebration feast for me!

            I sit at my usual spot at the table and start scooping ground beef into a soft tortilla. And then we pray.

            That has been the biggest tradition in the household since I first stepped through the doors. I’ve never been crazy about this routine; that’s all it was for me… A routine. But I knew it meant a lot to Cindy so I went along with it.

            It’s not that I don’t believe in God, I do. At least I think I do. I’ve just never been into the whole sinner, damnation thing. I also don’t like the surrender your life part. It’s my life, right? I know what’s best for me, right? I’m a good person, right? Then why is there doubt in my mind?

            I can’t think about that right now. When we finish “talking to God”, we begin chatting. First, I tell Cindy how Brandon asked me out. Then we switch over to what I’m going to wear, how I’ll do my hair, and typical girl stuff like that. I think about all the positive things in my life. Cindy, Brandon, now meeting my dad. And then I realize how lucky I really am.

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(Flashback Sequence)

 

            Tuesday, September 17th. My fourth visit with Cindy. As much as I hated to admit it, I actually felt comfortable sharing bits of my past. Cindy had the kind of presence that calms you down and makes you want to share your heart. Is this what a mother is supposed to be like?

 

            The last visit I told her about what it was like growing up in an abusive house-hold. How every minute you felt like you were walking on thin ice. Like anything you said or did would cause a painful and bruising episode.

           

            I told her about Daddy’s love for alcohol; probably more than his love for Mom. Sometimes I wondered if he even really loved her or if she was just caught in a crippling fear just like me.

 

            How I wished I could rewind the clocks and see her face. I bet she was beautiful with long brown hair and bright, green, inquisitive eyes like me. Daddy said I had her smile. I hoped that was a good thing. But I guess I’ll never know.

 

            Daddy burned all the wedding pictures. All pictures with her in it, actually. At least I had my imagination.

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