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Sweet Contradiction

Page 10

by Peggy Martinez


  “What made you wrong for each other?” I probed. I really felt like I needed to know. Matt’s eyes glanced over at a bird that had landed on a birdfeeder a few feet away from the porch as he spoke.

  “Nothing,” he murmured. I blinked several times, wondering if he’d misspoken. He smiled wryly and glanced over at me out of the side of his eye. “Weren’t expecting that answer, were you?” he chuckled and then turned his eyes back to the birdfeeder before continuing. “Everything seemed perfect. She liked the things I liked, she had the same friends I did, she went to the same church I went to, had the same faith I did, and had the same goals in life that I did.” My face grew hot and my heart had begun to ache half way through his speech. I focused on the birdfeeder too, gritting my teeth so hard I thought they might crack under the pressure. I had asked after all. Matt chuckled under his breath again.

  “It took me a long time to see through all those … things.” I watched the muscle in his jaw as he spoke. “To see past the stuff we had in common and to finally notice all of what we were missing.” He sighed deeply.

  “What were you missing?” I asked, half afraid to hear the answer.

  “Passion. A deep, abiding kind of love, the ability to talk about any little thing as if it were the most important thing on earth, or even to sit with each other in absolute silence and yet in absolute communion.” His face turned toward me and his gaze captured mine. “Sharing interests and faith isn’t the most important thing to me, Beth. But, a sharing of souls, like you and I do? That’s something I’ve never had before and I’ll do everything in my ability to strengthen that bond.” His hand clasped mine and he rubbed his thumb gently back and forth over my knuckles. “I just hope you feel the same way.” He place a kiss on the edge of my mouth and my eyes fluttered closed. His scent enveloped me and I melted into his embrace, allowing him to kiss away all the fears, if but for a moment. Matt pulled back, his eyes glazed with passion and love. I smiled softly and sighed as I laid my head on his shoulder as we leaned back into the swing.

  “We come from such different places in life, Matt. If you met my parents, you’d understand.” I closed my eyes. “I just don’t know if I can be the woman you need and the woman you deserve in your life,” I whispered.

  “I don’t need you to be anyone other than the amazing woman you are,” he said roughly into my hair. Until you take over your dad’s church, I thought crossly.

  “So, let’s do it.” My eyes cracked open. What? What had I missed? What were we doing? I leaned back and met Matt’s evil twin grin.

  “Um, do what now?” I asked carefully.

  “Meet your parents,” he answered joyfully. I nearly catapulted off the swing.

  “Why would we do that?” I shrieked like a cat, who’s tail had just been stepped on. Matt only grinned broader.

  “I think it will help you see that you can’t scare me away, not even with your insane father, who I’d like to give a good, old-fashioned, beating to for hurting you for so many years.” I swallowed and sat back down gingerly on the swing. “Besides, would you like to go to see them for the first time in over four years alone, or with a little backup?” I chewed on my bottom lip, thinking over his crazy proposition. If he did go, I wouldn’t be alone and just maybe I’d be able to get through the visit without murdering one of my parents. And on top of that, he’d get to see firsthand where the woman he was in a relationship came from, so if he wanted to bail, it would definitely be after said visit.

  “Alright,” I groused.

  “Really?” Matt asked with disbelief coloring his voice.

  “Yeah. Tomorrow night,” I grumbled. “Rip the band aide off and get it over with type of thing.” Matt’s chest rumbled as he laughed.

  “It’ll be okay. I’ll be there with you, sweetheart.” He pulled me back into his arms and we both sat there watching the birds fight over the bird seeds for another hour before he kissed me goodbye.

  “Oh, wait! I can’t leave Jen by herself tomorrow night. Maybe we should put this off a few days,” I said, trying not to sound too hopeful. Matt clucked his tongue and smiled over his shoulder as he walked down the pathway.

  “I’ll take care of it, don’t worry, and stop trying to come up with ways to get out of it.” I crossed my arms over my chest watched as Matt grinned wickedly before getting into his truck. I went inside to let Jen know that I’d lost my ever lovin’ mind.

  She only laughed.

  ’ll get it,” Jen shouted from the living room as the doorbell rang out. I sprinted to get there first, but she was swinging the door open before I could make it. I grimaced. I hadn’t been able to prepare her for what I thought Matt have had up his sleeve. “What are you doing here?” Jen asked a little caustically.

  “Well, hello to you too sunshine,” Hunter snapped as he walked through the front door. “Nice pajama bottoms.” He grinned and raised a brow at her sugar daddy pajama shorts and red tank top. Jen crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Hunter and Matt. Matt shrugged and gave me an apologetic smile.

  “What’s going on?” Jen asked, her ponytail bouncing while her foot tapped. Hunter held out the box he’d carried in and then his trademark not-a-care-in-the-world smirk showed up.

  “I’m hanging out with you tonight.” He sat the box down on the table near the couch.

  “Who said I wanted you here?” Jen asked with a too-sweet smile.

  “Oh, I know you want me … here … there … everywhere.” Hunter teased. Jen’s face heated and her mouth hung open with an astonished look slapped across her face.

  “That’s not …” Jen sputtered. Matt cut off his laugh with a cough. Very smart man.

  “Anyway, I’ve already ordered pizza, so you don’t have a choice. I’m starved.” Hunter pulled popcorn out of the box and waved it around. “I even have popcorn.” He pulled some more stuff out of his goody box. “Twizzlers? Check. Rootbeers? Check. Movies? Check.” He glanced up from his box and looked Jen up and down. “Don’t tell me you’ve got better things to do.” Jen huffed.

  “What movies did you bring?” she snapped.

  “I’ve got Batman Begins, Beetlejuice, Braveheart, and … Footloose.” I was grinning ear to ear, surely his mom had suggested Footloose. For the first time he looked just a tiny bit uncertain as Jen stood there and stared him down. She final sighed deeply and took the rootbeers from him.

  “Alright. I’ll put the drinks in the freezer. You can get the show started.”

  “So, which one first? Footloose?” The look on Hunter’s face was priceless, he definitely was not a Kevin Bacon dance-a-thon fan. Jen made a sound of dismissal in the back of her throat.

  “Please. As if I’d choose that movie over a half-dressed, Scottish-accented Mel Gibson.” Jen’s pony tail swung as she spun on her heel and left to go to the kitchen. Hunter just stood there in awe.

  “You might wanna …” I wiped at the corner of my own mouth. “You got a little something on the corner of your mouth.” I pointed and Hunter gave me the look of death as he snapped out of his trance and went to get the movie ready. Matt came over and took my hand in his.

  “You ready for this?” I gazed up into his eyes and nodded my head. Inside I was a mess though.

  “Jen, we’re leaving!” I shouted out.

  “Okay, be careful and good luck!” she hollered back.

  “See ya later, Hunter. Have a good time, but not too good a time.” Hunter snorted. When Matt helped me into the truck, I was so very close to running back inside and refusing to ever come out again. I’d been dreading this day since the day I’d left over four years ago. My mom was so shocked that I said I would be coming over that she didn’t have a proper reaction to the fact that I said I was bringing a guy with me. This couldn’t end well.

  The drive was a lot shorter than I remembered and hoped it would be. We pulled onto the gravel road that led to the house and I had to keep telling myself that this had to be done, that I could never really be free if I didn’t face my past
, if Matt didn’t see exactly what he was getting into.

  The house was smaller than I remembered. The tiny porch and screen door were exactly the same, the house looked like it might have had a fresh coat of paint at some point in the last four years, but other than that, nothing was different. Same small, wooden framed farm house without a welcome-matt, without any flowers to take away the sterility of the yard, and without any real feelings except dread blossoming in my heart.

  Matt came around to open the door for me. I got out and wiped my clammy hands on the long jean skirt I’d worn. I straightened my short sleeve plaid shirt and ran a hand nervously over my hair. Matt took my hand in his and kissed it.

  “It’s going to be fine. I’m here,” he murmured the words against my forehead as he placed a chaste kiss there. I tried to summon a smile in reply, but I’m afraid it just didn’t happen. I tightened my grip on my Matt’s hand and took a step forward. Let’s get this over with, I thought.

  We walked up the creaky stairs and stepped up onto the porch. Just as I stepped in front of the front door, it was jerked open. My mother pushed the screen door out and it screeched just as I remembered it doing for so many years. The sound caused the hairs on my arm to raise. Eyes the same color as my own met mine.

  “Well, you’ve grown,” my mother said softly. “I see you’ve let your hair go wild.” I ran a hand over my hair. She was right. I’d worn so many braids as a child. As a teen I had to have my hair up or pinned back so it wouldn’t serve as a temptation of vanity for myself or as a temptation of lust for the opposite sex. When I left, I let it grow out and rarely wore it up unless I did it in a sexy updo when I was going out for the evening. Even though I’d worn my jean skirt out of respect for my parents, to keep the peace, so to speak, I didn’t wear my hair up. I didn’t want to them thinking they held that much control over me.

  “Well, come in Elizabeth, your father is inside and it’s almost time for dinner.” Matt and I followed my mother into my childhood home. The living room was as dimly lit as it always had been and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust. The room looked as if I could have been gone only four days, instead of four years. It was the exact same. An old fashioned brown upholstered sofa sat against the wall and two chairs covered in the identical fabric sat across from it. In between them was a large, oak wood coffee table which housed an enormous open Bible, which probably weighed at least twenty pounds. Nothing hung on the walls, except a few photos hanging over the sofa. One picture was of my mother’s parents on their wedding day, one was of my father’s parents, and one was of our family standing in front of our home when I was very small. My father stepped out of the hallway just as my mom disappeared into the kitchen.

  “Elizabeth. It’s been a long time,” he spoke sharply.

  “Yes it has.” I answered in clipped tones. “Dad, this is Matthew Wright.” Matt stepped forward and held his hand out.

  “Please call me Matt.” My dad’s eyes glinted, their hazel shrewdness sizing him up and finding him wanting in a single glance.

  “Matthew.” My dad grabbed Matt’s hand and shook it. “You’re the Pastor’s son of that new age church just outside of Salem, ain’t you?” Matt nodded.

  “New Hope Community Church. And, yes I am.” Matt stepped back and clasped my hand in his. I swallowed and waited. My dad’s jaw clenched and his hand tightened into a fist. I must have flinched because Matt tightened his grip on my hand just a little. My father refocused his gaze on me and took a step forward. Matt’s entire body became rigid, his posture straightening and going on alert.

  “You’ve completely tainted yourself with the world, girl.” My father said in disgust. My cheeks burned and my head bowed before I could stop myself. All those years of belittling and shame were not as easily forgotten as I thought. With Matt’s hand in mine I found strength though. I raised my chin and viewed my father from an outsider’s point of view. He’d never been kind, never had an encouraging word to say, only tore me down, shamed me, and made my life a living hell. I didn’t need his approval, I didn’t need to be afraid of him any longer either.

  “I am how god made me,” I said softly.

  “God didn’t make you no whore, girl.” My dad spat. Matt’s breath hissed in through his teeth and his eyes narrowed dangerously.

  “Don’t speak to her like that. She’s no whore and I’ll not have any man saying she is. I don’t care who you are.” The muscle in Matt’s jaw jumped as he ground his teeth together. My dad took another step forward, standing toe to toe with Matt. Matt towered over him by a couple inches.

  “Dinner is ready.” My mother spoke from the doorway. My father stared at Matt for another few moments before finally stepping back and walking toward the dining room. I breathed out a relieved breath and took Matt by the hand to go to the dinner table. Just get through dinner, just get through dinner, I repeated over and over like a mantra. Of course, that was asking just a little too much.

  After the chicken, potatoes, salad, and rolls were passed around, my father prayed over the food. The differences between his prayer and that of Pastor Wright’s were as comparable as night and day. I could feel the anger and disgust flowing off of Matt in waves. I placed a hand on his thigh under the table, waiting for my dad to finish his prayer time sermon. When he finally finished, I smiled sadly over at Matt and picked up my fork to try and get the visit over as quickly as possible.

  “Well, what have you been doing for the past four years, Elizabeth?” My mother asked as she put butter on her roll. I wiped my mouth and took a sip of water, trying to formulate a reply that wouldn’t cause any more strife than necessary.

  “I’ve done a lot of traveling,” I said quietly.

  “Where did you go?”

  “Well, I’ve been to Texas, Florida, the Carolinas, and several other states,” I answered with a shrug. My mom’s eyes slipped over to my father’s. He had a frown in the middle of his forehead as he ate his food.

  “How did you pay your traveling expenses?” she asked as she took a small bite of her roll.

  “I used some of the money granddad gave me for my eighteenth birthday, but mostly I found odd jobs wherever I happened to be. Waitressing for tips mostly.” I shrugged and took another bite of my chicken and potatoes.

  “And you, Matthew? What do you do?” My mother asked conversationally.

  “I help my father run his farm through the week,” Matt answered carefully.

  “And do you have brother and sisters? What do they do?”

  “I have two brothers. Daniel is in the army, on leave right now. Hunter is helping on the farm while he’s finishing up his degree.” I stared at Matt, I hadn’t known Hunter was getting a degree. I wondered what he was studying.

  “And you own several businesses, don’t you?” My dad chimed in, his voice like a whip. Matt stared at my dad, his eyes narrowing into dangerous glints of ice. Matt owned businesses? My head was spinning.

  “Yes I do,” he answered through gritted teeth.

  “You and your family own a lot more land than any one family should be allowed to. It’s sinful,” my dad hissed. My stomach dropped. I wiped my mouth off on my napkin and glanced over at my mother. Her head was bowed to her plate, her eyes devoid of any emotion. I wanted to shake her, but I knew it wouldn’t do any good.

  “Maybe we should leave, Matt,” I whispered.

  “You own one of the largest movie theatre chains in the state of Missouri. How much money do you have sitting in your bank?” my dad asked as he took a sip of his water.

  “Dad!” I hissed.

  “No, that’s alright, Beth.” Matt sat his napkin on the table and faced him unflinchingly. “I’m very wealthy. I’m not ashamed of it. I’ve worked for every dollar I’ve ever made. I run a good business.”

  “You’re prideful and money is the root of all evil. Guess your daddy didn’t teach you to read the Bible when you were growing up. You should ask Elizabeth for a few verses, I’m sure she’s still got them all memor
ized. I made sure of that. Every time she sins, every time she plaits her hair in the mirror, paints her face like a harlot, every time she allows you to defile her body, she has a voice in the back of her mind telling her how wicked she is and a verse etched into her memory to remind her exactly where she is headed because of that wickedness.” My dad cut into his chicken and took a bite of potatoes like we’d just discussed the weather. Matt’s eyes were wide, his body rigid. I stared down at my plate, but my appetite was gone.

  “I’d like to leave now,” I whispered. Matt nodded and stood up from the table. He glanced over at my mother. Her face was blank, but her eyes shone just a little with unshed tears. He nodded his head in her direction.

  “Ma’am.”

  She nodded once in return and then returned her eyes to her plate. “Come on, Beth.” I stood up on shaky legs and put my hand in Matt’s and let him lead me out of the dining room. When I got to the living room and had my hand on the door knob I heard my dad’s voice from directly behind us. Matt put a hand behind my neck and squeezed lightly.

  “Elizabeth, I brought you up better than this,” he said with a growl.

  I turned around and faced the man I’d had to call father even though he’d never treated me any better than a stray dog that had been thrust upon him to try his sainthood. He stepped closer to me and I thought for just a split second that he was going to be gentle, say something to make me think he had been the way he was because somewhere deep inside he truly did love me, no matter how messed up his ways of showing it.

  “He’s there for you now when you allowing him between your legs, but will he be there if he puts a bastard in you? Or will he move on to another whore?” My dad jeered. A crack echoed through the room and mingled with my mother’s gasp. It wasn’t until I felt the burning in my palm that I realized I’d struck my own father. His face was a mix of shock and rage. His hand swung back and Matt was suddenly there, grabbing him by the arm.

  “You won’t ever hit her again. Try it and I’ll make sure you regret it for the rest of your life.” Matt growled as he shoved my father back a step. “Let’s go, Beth. Now.” I walked out the door in a daze, barely remembering the drive back into town or back to the house. Then, Matt was talking over me, Jen asking a bunch of questions, and Hunter grumbling something about that no good piece of sh—. It wasn’t until Matt was tucking me into bed that I let everything really sink in and allowed the pain, humiliation, and anger to surface. I wept. I hadn’t wept when I left to go out on my own, barely eighteen and fresh out of high school, I hadn’t wept when my parents never called me except to berate me for something, but I wept then. I wept until I had no tears left to shed … and then I slept.

 

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