Mother was celebrating membership in the Church, whereas David & I were celebrating that we would be a family again. There was that word. Again.
Mother had mineral water, David & I, a little champagne—a Mardi Gras before Lent. But when was a Mormon’s Lent? None such existed, for the life of a Mormon was one of continuous abstinence.
Caitlin wasn’t with us, & I realized I’d forgotten all about my baby sister. She still belonged with us, for hadn’t she always before?
Mother & David were at Maxwell Manor, spending a romantic (but sinless) evening as an engaged couple; I was in his studio, where she’d never been.
Everyone had a purpose in this life, divine or otherwise, yet I thought it strange some believed their only purpose was getting to the next.
“Before the clock ticks thrice, you will have denied me 3 times,” she said, going back to her chat, as if I had been there not at all.
She looked back at us once, giving us a strange sort of smile—that androgynous Mona Lisa smile again—as if she held a delicious secret.
We often married the people we did based on the order in which we met them. Our lives were a deck of cards, the real story not in the cards we were dealt, but the order in which they were dealt.
I never understood how one could be washed in the Blood of the Lamb—how it would cleanse us from our scarlet sins so we were white again when blood was the one thing at a crime scene that could never be washed away.
He told me he would be home in 6 weeks. If only he had come right back for me, the rest of my life would’ve never happened.