Mother had long ago accepted Caitlin loving Cara’s mother, for she believed it was she, Laurie Nolan, that she loved as her mother.
Caitlin was like a foundling, still lost in our little family, for she sought the attention I never had to.
Red hair like the Devil was all I remembered of my father. What spell had he cast in his life, so Mother cast out all others after his death?
She looked over at me & smiled, & in that moment, I felt we’d connected. I wanted to hold onto that moment so much, but I blinked, & it was gone.
Whenever David said he didn’t believe in organized religion, the Baptists, who told him he was hell-bound, would say, “What about disorganized?”
Though David believed marriage largely a secular affair, the fact that Mother would marry him for time only & seek eternity with Patrick wounded him.
Caitlin fingered her St. Christopher’s medal as she looked at me. She knew I would never believe but for love—love for Elder Roberts.
I put a hand to my hair, sensing his touch, though it was my mother whose hair he was fondling.
They tossed that which was against the Word of Wisdom—Mother’s coffee maker & sun tea jar, until all that was left were wine glasses for water.
Our home was being Mormonized while David stood there, leaning against the doorjamb, watching my mother’s Catholic identity being erased.