When the old folks began suggesting he become a preacher, he thought if they only knew how sick in the head he was, they would realize the idea was ludicrous. But after studying how little Pastor Carpenter did during the course of a week, Brian allowed the idea to take hold.
Learning the man found ways to use his leadership for other opportunities really sold Brian on the trade. It was more than the free side of cattle his father delivered to the pastor’s freezer each fall or the yard work all of the men in the congregation were supposed to do for him without pay. It was discovering his mother half undressed in Carpenter’s office that confirmed Brian’s decision. There wasn’t a more religious woman in the county than Betty Jones and everyone knew the mean bastard she was married to would strangle a guy for looking at her. If Carpenter had enough clout to talk his holy rolling mother out of her pantyhose, then the old fool was onto something Brian wanted.
Excited with the idea of moving out of a town that only had a Waffle Hut and Piggly Wiggly, Brian knew he wanted to relocate to New England. There were a few evangelical missionaries in the Northeast sponsored by larger Southern churches. To be sent there was an honor. To him, living in New England showed status and wealth, essentials for success – and bigger salaries. So, he practiced Bible lingo and didn’t miss a service until the church elders agreed to pay for his online training through the Bible Institute. His Connecticut life was everything he wanted.
Now, when he returned to his home town for visits, they praised him for his sacrifice. None of them possibly understood that he wouldn’t have it any other way. New England was far from Georgia and far from the farm life he had grown to resent. There he could mold a new identity and pretend to have come from a stable and devout home. Each new acquaintance would naturally believe Brian’s easy smile and outgoing personality were a natural consequence of a positive childhood, meanwhile ignorant of his insecurities due to the terror he experienced at the hands of his own flesh and blood.
Passing through the double doors into the sanctuary, the welcomed scent of chlorine from the baptistery filled his senses. It had been years since he baptized anyone, a truth he didn’t share with the congregation back home. He checked on the pool each day, it was one small duty he used as an excuse to appear busy.
With floors vacuumed and the pews polished, the deacons ensured the building was in perfect standing. The walls were painted a fresh egg shell white each spring and the fellowship room received new drapes and lighting fixtures each winter. He prided himself that any of the area’s church leaders could stop by on a friendly call and covet New Hope’s prosperity. Despite the recession, the congregation had flourished over the last decade. Other places of worship weren’t faring as well.
They give too much to the poor.
Of course, Brian oversaw the church’s Benevolence Fund and rarely offered help unless the donation would benefit him with a returned favor. Offering Marge a fifty dollar gift card to Price Chopper along with her free Bible was the perfect opening into her life.
And her bed…
What he didn’t know was how to get rid of her so he could move on and appease Angela.
Leaning over the baptistery, Brian ran his hands through the tepid water. He had thought about asking Marge if she would want to fool around in it.
A different kind of full-body baptism.
But, now he figured he best avoid her. What the hell made her think showing up at his house was okay? He had always thought Marge was a free spirit and only wanted casual sex, but last night she made it clear she expected more.
Damn women – they can’t just have fun without it having to mean something.
Resigned, he stood and wiped his hands on his pant leg. It was too bad he would have to end things with her, but maybe he could use the free time to strengthen his role in the community. Stopping by the old folk’s home or the hospital always impressed the townspeople.
Loosening his collar, Brian hoped Rachel would come home before Sunday’s service. Her running off would make him look bad.
Sighing, he glanced back at the baptistery.
Maybe Daisy will help me live out that fantasy
24
MARGE
Friday 10:00 AM
Marge slammed her phone into her purse. It was the third time she had tried calling Brian. Shifting in her seat, she peered at her reflection in the visor mirror. She had taken extra care with her hair and makeup this morning. If he wasn’t going to answer his cell, she would just have to find him.
What is his problem anyway?
Brian always took her calls. After last night, she was convinced the man knew what he wanted. The way he responded to her, the look in his eyes – only Marge could give him what he needed.
Angela must have gotten to him.
The more she thought about the way the bitch glared at her, the angrier Marge became. She should have told her off. She should have stood up for what she wanted. Brian said it will take time, but Marge knew with a little encouragement some things could be moved along quicker. Getting Angela out of the picture was a must. She would find a way to make it happen.
But first things first…
Pulling into traffic, Marge remembered Brian was out of the house by nine most mornings. She didn’t blame him for wanting to get away from his wife. He was an important man and had things to do.
Marge wished it was Monday or Wednesday. They usually met at the Howard Johnson’s off Route 8 on those days. The two would spend a good part of the afternoon having intercourse.
If I didn’t have to work, I’d be there for him whenever he wanted.
Once they were married, they would always be together. Maybe she could have a little office at the church. She was a people person and had become used to answering phones at Lilly’s. Veronica, the owner, said she was a benefit to the store because she had such a personal touch with customers. Marge was confident she would have a way with the members of the church once they got to know her.
Although the Ho-Jos was nice, Marge preferred when Brian came to her place in the evenings. They would share a bottle of wine and sometimes, she would cook for him. It felt right and she liked the way he left his scent on her bedding.
Everyone believed they were having a Bible study, so when they were done, while their bodies were still slick with the film of lovemaking, he would whisper stories about King Solomon and King David. Men Brian must have admired.
I have to know something biblical if I ever got quizzed.
Driving through town only took a few minutes. With four street lights and one rotary, the town’s 1,309 residents all knew each other. It was easy to spot Brian’s Cadillac. He was the only one that had one.
He’s at the church?
A quick survey of the parking lot revealed he was alone. Smiling, Marge thought it was the perfect place to surprise him. She knew to park the Honda in the back so it couldn’t be seen from the road.
The sun was shining and the air tasted like autumn. Balancing on her patent leather stilettos, Marge nudged her denim mini lower on her hips. The black t-shirt she was wearing was too small, but she loved the way it conformed to her curves. It matched the grey leather bolero jacket. Satisfied that her naval piercing showed, she made her way towards the Sunday school entrance.
With three knocks, she waited in anticipation. Brian’s office was near the back door and was in earshot. She only had three hours before she was scheduled to be at Lilly’s. It was more than enough time to bring Brian to his knees. He loved it when she got a little kinky. She wasn’t into anything weird, but deliberately went without panties to give him a surprise. Brian wasn’t the best she ever had in bed, but he was better than Williston.
At least he can get it up.
Thinking of her ex-husband left a bad taste in her mouth. The thing about Will that pissed her off was that she loved him. Even though he had lost the ability to bring her to orgasm, he was a good father to Katie. Believing him when he passed off his lack of interest in s
ex as result of work stress, Marge still thought they had something special. She liked that Williston took care of her. Always concerned with how she was feeling, he lavished her with gifts and bought her pretty clothes. When Marge learned he was having sex with Thomas Craft, she couldn’t stay with him. Everyone seemed to know about Williston’s weakness for men but her.
He made me look like a fool.
Unsure of what made him change, Marge spent countless hours examining her womanly sex appeal. She didn’t want to be the one who turned him gay; she couldn’t live with herself if she did. Williston told her that he didn’t mean to hurt her, but not a day went by that she didn’t feel the sting of his betrayal.
One thing she did know for sure, once she was engaged to Brian, she would be sure to send him a wedding invitation.
Maybe he will hurt as much as I do.
Marge knocked on the door again, this time louder. She didn’t like that Brian was making her wait.
What is he doing in there?
It wasn’t like Marge was just some annoying member of his congregation. She was a part of his life. A good part if she had any say in it.
Glancing down at her outfit, she didn’t know any other forty-year-old with a body like hers. Her figure was slender, but she had a firm butt and her divorce settlement paid for the boob job. Years of competing in pageants left her with perfect posture and the ability to apply a spray on tan without streaking.
Marge realized most women were ignorant as to what men found attractive. Guys didn’t like butch haircuts and baggy clothing on women. They liked seeing a woman’s curves. She also knew to wear her hair long and loose down her back. Marge always told Katie these truths so that her daughter could have the best chances in life. Neither of them could go anywhere without men gawking at them. A fact that she had thought Williston liked.
Marge spit her gum on the ground.
Thoughts of Angela interfering last night aggravated her temper. She wasn’t sure how long the two had been together, but since Rachel was the same age as Katie, their anniversary must be in the teens. How Brian could have picked a woman who was so obviously wrong for him was beyond Marge’s range of understanding. He had either married her because her family was wealthy or he thought he saw something in Angela that just wasn’t there.
It must have been the money.
Marge heard that Angela’s family was rich. Her Long Island accent was subtle, but still there. She wasn’t sure if Brian had access to the old money, but she wasn’t concerned. His house was beautiful and his SUV was the nicest in town. The preacher’s lifestyle was a far cry from the trailer park dump she had grown up in. Her father worked as a mechanic doing oil changes at the Jiffy Lube while her mother wiped ass at the old folk’s home in Claremont. Marge knew she was destined for a better life. It only made sense that a man of God would be the one to give it to her.
Riffling in her purse, Marge fished past a pile of store receipts and wads of tissues until she found her cell. Propping herself against the door, she rang Brian’s phone again.
“Hello,” her voice was airy. “So, you’ve managed to answer your phone.”
“What’s up?” Brian responded. His voice was flat and missing the huskiness she was accustomed to.
“I’m at the back door. I’ve been knocking.” Her eyes searched the windows, scanning for any sign of him. One of the curtains rustled. He had been looking at her. Not liking the distance between them, she wiggled the door knob.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m really busy right now.”
Angela has gotten to him.
Licking her lips, she tried to think quickly.
“I can give you a reason to forget about working. I know you are alone in there.”
“Not today, Marge.”
Her face flushed. He was dismissing her.
“Well, how about you pop your head out for just a minute and at least give me a kiss goodbye. I got all dolled up, just for you.” Digging her nails into the phone as she spoke, she knew his wife was making him do this. This wasn’t her Brian. He would have taken her inside already and the two would be making love.
If Angela wants a fight, I’ll give her a fight.
The phone was silent. Marge felt a thrill surge through her. Right about now her lover would be getting excited and ready to take her. She stared at the door, waiting for it to open.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t talk right now,” he uttered.
Marge opened her mouth, but before she could speak, a click resonated in her ear.
The call ended.
25
KATIE
Friday 10:15 AM
Katie splashed her face with cool water. With puffy eyes and a pounding head, she doubted the heavy application of cosmetics would hide how crappy she felt. With a practiced hand, she smoothed on a bit of cover-up before defining her eyelashes with indigo liner and her cheeks with a bit of blush.
Almost passable…
The choice to show up late for class was an instant “no.” A quick glance at the time revealed it was just after third period. Imagining the look of annoyance that visited Mrs. Spark’s face each time she disrupted the English teacher’s class was one reason for not going. The second was seeing Davey. After last night, facing the boy was cause enough to stay home.
After a quick brushing of her hair, Katie paired her skinny jeans with her favorite 30 Seconds to Mars Echelon t-shirt, followed by knee length boots. Feeling a little more human now that she was dressed, she wandered into the kitchen with a growling stomach, hoping to find something to eat.
The room was overwhelmed by a large round table with two mismatched chairs. More of an alcove, she didn’t believe the space was meant to be dined in. The appliances were old, but they worked. To help her mother out, Katie took it upon herself to be in charge of mopping the floor and doing the dishes. Unless Pastor Jones was going to be over at dinner time, Marge didn’t cook much anymore. Katie often ate alone.
Opening the refrigerator, the contents were sparse. Despite the carton of Marlboros and a couple of Heinekens, the only food was leftover frozen pizza and a package of hot dog rolls. The door was littered with condiments. Nothing looked appealing. Frustrated with the lack of necessities, Katie slammed it shut, rattling the half empty jars in unison.
Checking the table, she spotted a note and a twenty dollar bill. In Marge’s bubbly script, was a reminder for Katie to pick up some groceries and a box of tampons. Crumpling the request, she tossed it in the trash.
Her mother’s idea of groceries usually meant boxed of mac and cheese and cereal bars. For once, Katie would like to have a meal that included fresh vegetables and a salad. A meal that required both washing and prepping, not just slop from a can or cardboard that was supposed to be edible. But twenty dollars didn’t stretch far; it was all that was left after her mother bought a weeks’ worth of cigarettes and the wine she would need for date night.
Stuffing the bill in her pocket, Katie grabbed her sunglasses and leather coat. Already planning to break the twenty by getting a hot coffee, she locked her apartment door and headed down the main stairwell. As she stepped outside, the chilled air whipped tendrils of her hair across her face. Strands stuck to her lip gloss.
With the wind at her back, Katie set off to Lucinda’s Diner. By the time she stepped through the diner’s door, the ten minute walk left her fingers numb from the cold. They didn’t want to move as she ran them through her windblown hair, another casualty of the October weather. As she took her favorite spot at the end of the counter, her eyes perused over the special’s board. Pumpkin pancakes, homemade apple cider donuts, and praline maple French toast were listed for the day. The holiday themed treats all looked amazing.
With a smile, Daisy, the morning waitress, waved a hello. Katie grinned. She loved the redhead’s costume. With cat ears and painted on whiskers – she looked like she was having fun. It suited her.
Katie swallowed back the saliva all of the good smells provoked. As
hungry as she was, she couldn’t spend more than a buck or two for her coffee. On the walk over, she made a mental list of some groceries that would stretch another week until her mom got paid. Eggs were cheap and there were a few ways she could cook them so they would taste different. Pasta was another staple. She had learned tossing it with olive oil, garlic and grated parmesan made a suitable meal.
It beats Spaghettios.
Glancing around, a few of the diner’s patrons were wearing costumes. A plump woman with an equally round toddler sat in the booth just across the aisle. The mother was supposed to be a witch and the child was a lady bug. Katie questioned if she should even bother doing Halloween. Her mother had no intentions of helping her put together a costume and she was tired of using her cheerleader uniform as a costume year after year.
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