Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
I side-eyed him and raised a brow.
“Your childhood, for instance,” he told me. I cringed internally. Did we have to go there? “You’ve mentioned your mom in particular being very religious. You never liked the church they’re part of. She must’ve told you things from the bible growing up that you automatically believed in.”
I scratched my jaw and peered into the fire. Couldn’t he have this conversation with Haley? She was much more vocal about how we’d grown up. Whereas I’d been raised to respect our mother, Haley had rebelled from a younger age. She’d done the right thing and questioned everything.
“If we’re gonna discuss my childhood, I’m turnin’ off the camera.” I jumped to my feet with a resigned grunt and paused the recording. Then I quickly deleted the last video before I returned to my seat. “Of course, when I was little, God was practically a member of the family. He was as real as anyone else.” I didn’t remember actually doubting the existence of God, and I wasn’t sure I did that now either. As my superiors in the service liked to say—there was no atheist in a foxhole. I liked the comfort and the notion of a god, and I wasn’t too fussy about the details.
I’d prayed in Afghanistan. I’d prayed when Nikki went into labor. I had friends who rejected the whole notion of religion—a sister too—and I had friends who prayed and went to church. Faith was incredibly personal, and nothing I wanted to ask people about. On the other hand…
“My stance on religion—or the congregation my folks are part of—changed because of how they preached,” I explained. “I think I was eleven or twelve when I started getting uncomfortable. It was less God loves all his children and more everyone’s going to hell.”
I didn’t react well to fear. I hated feeling scared, because—
Fuck. My stomach tightened, and an unease spread in my chest.
I scrubbed a hand over my mouth and jaw, remembering very well that one time I’d been so frightened that I’d actually wet my pants. It hadn’t been in Afghanistan.
“Do you think they’re part of a sect?” Roe asked carefully.
I shook my head. Sect was a strong word. My mother was from Georgia, and my old man was from North Carolina; when they’d moved to Norfolk, they found a church that represented the teachings they’d grown up with. Nuclear family—husband, wife, kids, the American dream. Values they still stood behind. But the world was moving forward, and so was the church. Last I’d heard, their new youth pastor had a Pride flag bumper sticker affixed to his car. Mom didn’t like that one bit.
“Everything I hate about my ma, she got from her own mother,” I said. “I’m not typically one to wish misfortune on anyone, but I’m glad that old lady isn’t around anymore.” She’d died about ten years ago. Not a minute too soon. “She was the kind of person who didn’t believe women should vote.”
“Jesus,” Roe muttered.
“Mm.” I had no fond memories of her. Which was a shame, because I’d really loved my grandfather, but every time they visited, Grandma Lucille had to ruin things. Everything was wrong. She’d complained day and night. “Easter was their holiday. That’s when they visited us in Norfolk.”
Goddammit, Roe had caused the memories to come flooding back now. Same thing every fucking year. Grandma Lucille and Grandpa George came up for the week; she turned our lives into living hell, after which Ma took over. Once they went home again, Ma was so hopped up on Grandma’s hatred that she turned into a version of her.
That lasted at least a couple months, until we headed down to Florida to visit Grandma Josephine and Pops over the summer. They’d been the aloe to a burn. That was where I had recovered somewhat.
My grandfathers had died the same year, when I was fourteen.
“We had a lot of tension in the house that made me question things too,” I said. “I never really felt the peace and love they preached about at church. My dad thought Ma’s side of the family was too extreme, and my mom responded by sucking the life out of the house with silence. She’d never argue—especially not in front of Haley and me—but we’d feel it in the air.”
I released a breath, feeling a phantom anxiousness that’d essentially been a part of me growing up.
Roe reached forward to turn the hot dogs again.
“Haley acted out. I closed myself in,” I added.
“I’m not the least surprised to hear that,” he murmured.
Heh. Yeah. Maybe. Silence had been easier. Just ride it out.
No, I’d had enough. Time to wrap this up. I cleared my throat and pulled my knees up a bit to rest my arms on them. “Back to your angle…? Of course I was indoctrinated, and many of the things I once believed didn’t require any effort on their part. I’m supposed to be able to trust my own parents. If I’m six years old and they tell me something, I believe it.”