“It’s cool out,” he insisted.
“I don’t care,” she argued. “I sprayed my hair!”
“I don’t get what for,” he said. “You’re just going to be out in the wind when we get there.”
If it didn’t make sense to him, it wasn’t worthy of discussion. There was no reasoning with him.
The closer they got to the church, the more Carolyn’s mind raced with all kinds of possibilities. Nothing could be ruled out. A lump settled in her throat. How could a little old lady be so scary?
* * *
The kiss. Jess had spent every second since yesterday afternoon thinking about it, going over everything Stephanie said and did in her mind. She lay in bed, touching her face and neck where Stephanie had touched her, even looking at the hands that she’d held. This was crazy. No sane person acted like this. Yet there she was, rolling back and forth across her blue quilted blanket, alternating between delirious joy and fits of despair.
Why hadn’t Stephanie called? Maybe she was regretting everything. At the same time, Jess was relieved she hadn’t. Jess wouldn’t have known what to say. Nothing in her life’s experience had prepared her for this. And her parents…they had always been her reference points in the world, the voices of sanity, usually, since she was a child. It was becoming clear—there was no safe place to go with these feelings, and those closest to her wouldn’t understand.
Jess propped herself up on her elbows, glancing out at the valley through her window. It was a peaceful, pastoral setting, the opposite of the tumult inside her head. There was no happy ending to be had, not for something like this. No matter what she felt, it simply wasn’t allowed. Not in this town, not by God. There was no way to square this with the Bible, with the teachings of her childhood and especially not with her minister father.
It was hopeless.
* * *
As soon as they pulled in to church, Carolyn’s eyes darted to Abilene’s parking space. It was empty. That was unusual; the woman prided herself on near-perfect attendance—among many other things. Of course the parking space didn’t have Abilene’s name or a “reserved” sign on it; it was just understood to be hers, a desirable slot immediately adjacent to the handicapped parking spaces. Nobody else ever parked there; people knew it was where she parked and stayed away from it. This odd, unspoken thing was one of the many that had taken Carolyn so long to get used to in Greens Fork. Ignorance was no defense. If by accident she had ever parked there, she would have been labeled as rude and unmannered. It was best not to provoke such arguments.
Carolyn’s pulse began to race. She kept telling herself she’d done the right thing, but for a moment she had a notion that the reason Abilene wasn’t there was because she was at home instructing hit men on Carolyn’s whereabouts during the week.
Amidst her worries, she was vaguely aware of an escalating argument in the backseat…
“It’s not gonna kill ya,” Danny spat.
“I don’t make Cs.” Ivy folded her arms. She’d spent most of the ride glued to the window, a heaviness on her face.
When Dan turned off the ignition, he turned to appraise his daughter. “You’re not being distracted from your studies, are you?”
The question behind his question was clear.
“No, Daddy,” Ivy replied. “It was just the way they did the bio lab.”
“Shouldn’t we be getting inside…” Carolyn undid her seat belt, nervously watching for the Cadillac.
Dan held up his hand. “We got time. What about it?”
“They had these pigs,” Ivy began, “on every table. We had to identify the arteries and veins…they stuck toothpicks in them. But everybody was all crowded around each one, you couldn’t see what you were lookin’ at. We should’ve gone one at a time. And those poor pigs…” Her voice quivered the same way it did the first time she saw Old Yeller on TV.
“Here she goes.” Danny rolled his eyes.
“I don’t think we should be talking about pig veins and arteries…” Carolyn was feeling the flutters of nausea, though it was probably from something else.
“You’ll need to study harder,” Dan said simply, unlocking all the doors.
“Yes, sir.” His older daughter hung her head. The shame of a C was apparently too much to bear.
When they got inside, Carolyn searched the pews, but there was still no sign of Abilene. She was either plotting something that would end up on the local news, or she too had some kind of stomach bug. Carolyn settled into her spot at the end of the pew and began to fan herself. Every time the door opened, she’d turn around to check. But no Abilene.
When the opening hymn began, Carolyn smelled a strong, sweet fragrance similar to Abilene’s. She turned slowly around and nearly jumped at the sight of a woman who strongly resembled the old matriarch, but she was a stranger. She was probably just passing through town and came in for the service, Carolyn reassured herself. She gave a wry smile. This weird town was like The Twilight Zone; it was making her paranoid. She heaved a sigh of relief and turned her attention back to the hymn.
Chapter Thirty-Five
The next day Jess went to the school auditorium to eat lunch by herself. She couldn’t stand to listen to her friends’ incessant chatter. Not today.
It wasn’t long before Stephanie found her. Jess felt her presence at the end of the row where she was sitting before she even looked up.
“Can I sit down?” came the familiar voice.
“It’s a free country.” Jess glanced at her, then stared at the empty stage.
The vision of Stephanie in a black silk shirt was almost too much. Again, Jess had the sensation of simultaneously wanting to reach for her and wanting to run as far away as she could.
Stephanie took the seat beside her. Obviously she understood the reason for the chilly reception. “You think what we did was wrong?” she asked quietly.
“Yeah,” Jess answered.
“I don’t mean to confuse you.”
“I’m not confused.” Jess did her best to appear as though she wasn’t coming apart. “It’s just wrong is all.”
Stephanie had something she wanted to say. Jess could tell, could hear her short intake of breath, as if she was trying to form the words.
“Ever since I saw you…” she said. There was a long pause until Jess turned to look at her. “Ever since that day in the office…I can’t stop thinking about you.” She lowered her eyes.
Suddenly Jess was dancing inside. Knowing Stephanie was experiencing the same madness she was—it made everything more significant. Every look, every glance now held the meaning of life and death and everything else in between. Whatever happened from this point forward, even if she never saw her again except passing in the hallways, nothing could change this, this thing between them that was undeniable.
“It’s wrong,” Jess insisted, in spite of herself. “You’re a girl. I’m a girl.” She waved her hand as if to say she didn’t need to spell it out.
“So?”
Jess was surprised. “So? It’s against the Bible.”
“Is it?”
Jess turned, squinting her eyes. “Are you serious?”
Stephanie glanced around the auditorium. Was she angry? Frustrated? She let out an exasperated breath. “Can I come over later?”
Jess looked at her like she was crazy. “Did you hear me?”
“Yeah. Can I come over?”
“They sure didn’t teach you how to listen in Nashville.”
“Oh, please.” Stephanie looked again around the auditorium, checking to see if they had an audience.
“I don’t know,” Jess said. The only thing worse than what had happened was talking about what had happened.
“Seriously,” Stephanie said. “I have something to show you. Then if you don’t want to talk to me ever again, I’ll understand. Deal?”
Jess nodded.
As Stephanie left, she had a confidence about her, the way she opened the door like she was going out on stage.
She actually seemed comfortable in her own skin. That was rare for any seventeen-year-old, thought Jess. And nonexistent for her.
She wondered if Stephanie knew how much she cared for her. Though she couldn’t say it, she was giddy inside at the sight of her, even today, even after she’d decided she couldn’t claim this kind of happiness for herself. She kind of hoped Stephanie knew how happy she made her. The way she had kissed her back…that must have told her something.
Jess rested her chin in her palm and let out a long sigh. She still hoped they could find a happy ending, but it seemed impossible. Her wild excitement, even joy, was immediately crushed by the realization that that kiss and the way she felt about Stephanie were buying her a first-class ticket to hell. She was pretty sure that nothing Stephanie could show her was going to change that.
* * *
The butterflies in her stomach went wild at the sight of Stephanie’s silver car pulling up in the driveway after school that day. She watched through her bedroom window before racing downstairs. She couldn’t open the front door too soon; it would make her seem too eager. So she watched through the front window until Stephanie was out of her car. When Jess answered the door, she saw that Stephanie wasn’t wearing her usual football jacket, but instead, a navy blue denim jacket and round, silver earrings that caught the light in her black hair. At shoulder length, her hair wasn’t wavy, but it turned and meandered down her neck almost in waves. Jess had memorized every detail about her.
She met her in the doorway. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Stephanie appeared to be taking everything in with one glance, obviously noticing the familiar surroundings.
Carolyn was hunched over another bowl in the kitchen. She’d announced, almost defiantly, when she started that this time she wasn’t making recipes for anyone but herself. Clearly she was still worried about her break with the cooking club but was trying to move on. She looked up momentarily when Jess and Stephanie came in. She was so excited by what she was cooking she didn’t even seem to notice who Jess’s friend was.
“Try this.” Carolyn shoved a piece of vegetable lasagna in Jess’s mouth. Seeing her daughter’s terrified expression, “Oh God. I didn’t blow on it enough?” She held out a glass of water.
“Ugh.” Jess spit it in a napkin. “There’s zucchini in it!”
“Oh, I forgot,” Carolyn said apologetically. Jess’s hatred of zucchini was legendary. “It’s a Southern Living recipe.”
“It’s awful,” Jess replied.
“Gee, thanks.” Carolyn smiled at Stephanie, waiting to be introduced.
“Sorry,” Jess muttered. She turned to Stephanie, “I can’t eat that zucchini shit,” quickly adding, “that stuff.” She looked apologetically at her mother, who was clearly mortified.
Stephanie laughed at the scene and shook her head politely when Carolyn offered her a piece.
When she’d rubbed the awful taste off her tongue onto her napkin, Jess belatedly remembered to make introductions. “Mama, this is Stephanie Greer.” She gave a little smile. “You remember her?”
Her mother’s face was a blank. “I’m sorry, I don’t think so.”
“She’s the one you wouldn’t let me see in second grade ’cause you said she was a bad influence.” Jess smiled a little.
“I never said that!” Carolyn protested.
“Nice to see you again,” Stephanie said, smiling warmly at her.
“I’m sure I didn’t…” Carolyn’s mouth hung open.
The girls laughed and left the kitchen.
“When would I have ever said that?” Carolyn stood in the kitchen, talking to herself.
The two girls kept laughing all the way upstairs.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Shortly before Stephanie arrived Jess had noticed the photo of them as kids, wedged in her dresser mirror in an obvious place of honor. She pulled it out and pondered it for a moment. These two girls, captured in a moment of silliness, in their world of construction paper and glue, where anything they created came to life—it was a time long before the world could tell them it was only construction paper.
Jess’s face fell. She’d made sure to stuff the photograph in a drawer and hide it under a pile of clothes.
“Nice room,” Stephanie commented, glancing around as she came in. Of course she’d seen it years ago, but now it was decorated like a teenager’s room.
Jess had covered one wall entirely with album covers, mostly eighties icons—Blondie, Pat Benatar, the Eurythmics. On the other walls there was more than one poster of Boy George.
“What does your dad think of him?” Stephanie asked, gesturing to a picture of the singer.
“He’s not crazy about him,” Jess admitted. “But he’s like, ‘It’s better than drugs.’ So…”
“That doesn’t sound like the fire-and-brimstone guy from church. No offense.”
“None taken. He likes a stage.” Jess understood her dad more than she let on. “Why are you goin’ to First Baptist now?” Jess had meant to ask her, because Stephanie’s family had never gone to her church before.
“Something my mom said about making a fresh start…” Stephanie shrugged, touching one of the trophies on Jess’s dresser. “It’s supposed to enrich our lives,” she said mockingly.
Jess watched as Stephanie’s hand practically caressed the trophy, her mind longing for a place where what she was feeling was okay and there was no hell.
Stephanie turned to face her. “After the divorce, she wanted to make sure I wasn’t gonna become some wild girl from a broken home. She thinks religion will keep me in line.” Her eyes flashed like the devil’s; Stephanie’s mom obviously didn’t know her daughter.
With great effort, Jess freed herself from Stephanie’s gaze and moved to her window, looking out at the sprawling countryside. “The first time Boy George came on TV,” she said, “and Dad was watchin’…that was pretty funny.”
Stephanie smiled. “Yeah?”
“He said, ‘She’s pretty.’ I said, ‘That’s a guy, Dad.’ He’s like, ‘No way!’” Jess laughed at the memory. Her father’s extreme reaction had not been due to the fact that a man could make a nice-looking woman, as Jess remembered it, but that a man would have the audacity to go on national TV looking like that. And maybe that he had just admitted to finding him attractive, which Jess thought was hilarious.
Jess tried to ease the tension she felt by talking. It was scary, but less scary than silence. “I remember this interview,” she continued. “One he did with Barbara Walters. He said, ‘The God I believe in doesn’t discriminate.’” Her face was downcast as she repeated the words.
“What do you think?” Stephanie came over to the window, looking out at the view that Jess had grown up with.
This was Jess’s unique vantage point on the world. The valley below, the cows. She couldn’t believe that Stephanie, now at seventeen, was actually here again, sharing it with her.
Stephanie touched her curtains. “Do you believe that?”
Jess turned to face her. “Even if it were true, there are so many people who don’t think so that your life would be pretty hard either way, I guess.”
Their faces were mere inches apart, and Jess leaned slightly toward her, drawn as if by a magnetic pull, wanting her lips again. But she stopped herself, unable to handle the consequences of anything more happening, feeling the ache of her restraint and self-denial.
“Here.” Stephanie backed away and reached inside her purse, which was more like a small backpack. She handed Jess a Bible. “Take a look.”
They sat down on the floor, their backs up against the bed. Stephanie opened it to a specific page where she’d highlighted several passages. It was Leviticus.
“Oh. Dad’s favorite,” Jess muttered. Not Leviticus. Again.
“Have you read it?” Stephanie asked.
“I’m a preacher’s daughter,” Jess said. “The last thing I wanna do is read a Bible.”
They laughed.
“Course
not.” Stephanie smiled, flipping to a specific part of the passage.
“I know what it says,” Jess groaned. “‘A man shall not lie with another man. It is an abomination.’ Blah, blah.”
“Have you read any more of it?”
Jess couldn’t recall.
“Read on,” Stephanie urged. “Go on.” She seemed determined, mysterious.
“You shall not sow your field with two kinds of seed,” Jess read. “‘You shall not round off the hair on your temples or mar the edges of your beard…’” She looked up at Stephanie quizzically. “What the hell?”
“Go on.”
Jess continued reading: “‘If a man commits adultery, he shall be put to death!’” Jess fell back against the bed. “You gotta be kiddin’ me.” She read more, then looked up at her. “If a woman is on her period, everything she sits on or touches will be unclean? They can kiss my ass!” She laughed, and Stephanie joined her, whooping laughter where they could hardly catch their breath. When things calmed down, Jess said, “It’s a man’s book, isn’t it? All the stuff about havin’ sex with slaves, and who’s pure and who isn’t…” She understood what Stephanie wanted her to see. “So we’re cherry-pickin’,” she said.
“You ever wonder why he doesn’t ever say all this?” Stephanie asked.
“He’d probably say the other stuff is outdated.”
“Who decides what’s outdated?” Stephanie arched an eyebrow. “When I was in Nashville, I hung out with a group who questioned everything. Some but not all said they were atheists. They showed me things like this.” Seeing Jess’s face, she added, “You might agree with the Bible or most of it, but anyone with a brain should at least wonder about which parts get followed and which don’t.” She took back the Bible and started to close it.
“Wait! Can I keep it?”
“Sure,” Stephanie said, handing it over.
Jess took out a pen from her nightstand drawer. “You mind?”
Stephanie smiled. “It’s yours now.”
Jess drew red x’s at the tops of the highlighted pages. She read aloud in disbelief, occasionally pausing in exasperation. It was like being given the keys to a secret world. “I can’t remember the last time somebody around here got stoned to death for havin’ an affair.”
Southern Girl Page 17