“Are you ready for church yet,” her mother asked.
Deborah opened the door and turned away from her mother. “Need help zipping up,” she said, “then I am ready.
When she felt the zip being pulled up she grabbed her purse and an extra pull-up and tucked her protection inside in case she needed it later.
“Do you need a spare,” she asked, “or is that for just in case?”
“It’s for just in case, mother.” Deborah felt herself blush as she looked at her mother. Her mother wore normal pants and a shirt. She didn’t look ready for church.
“I’m surprised you are wearing that dress. I’ll have to take your picture in it and send it to grandma. She wondered why she never saw you wearing it.”
“I really don’t have very many church clothes,” said Deborah. She followed her mother down stairs. Her father stood by the door. He was wearing a polo shirt and khakis. Her real father had always worn a coat and tie to church. She hadn’t been to church since the last time she was a senior in high school, so maybe things had changed.
“You look nice Alison,” her father said. “The boys in your Sunday school class won’t be able to pay attention to the lesson.
“Thanks, dad,” she said. “I’ll though I am sure I’m not the only girl that will dress nice.”
He shrugged and they walked to the car. Once they got to the church parking lot, things got complicated. Deborah did even realize they were at a church until she saw the sign above the door that said the name of the church. She was used to a church with a steeple and stained glass windows. This looked like a normal building. They walked into the lobby and her parents walked away. “See you after Sunday school,” said her mother.
Deborah looked around confused, but then saw Lia. “I’m glad to see you here,” she told her friend.
“You’re dressed up,” said Lia.
“Of course,” she said. She looked around and everyone seemed to be underdressed for church. Lia even wore blue jeans.
“You’re acting weird again,” said Lia. “Almost like you did since Wednesday. You are acting like you never been here before.”
“Let’s just go to our Sunday school class,” said Deborah. She followed Lia, but tried to make it look like she was not following her. When they got to Sunday school, the lesson was about forgiveness. She seethed with anger. She could never forgive the terrorist with the owl tattoos and those cold, gray eyes. She tried to tune out the lesson and think of something else. Finally it ended, and she rejoined her family in the auditorium.
There was none of the songs or piano music she was used to at church. The music was all done with guitars and there was a quartet instead of a choir. Instead of songbooks, the words to the songs were beamed onto a big Powerpoint screen. When the preacher got behind the pulpit to give a sermon, he wasn’t even wearing a tie. Deborah spent the entire sermon looking around, so she never did remember what the sermon was about in the first place, although the outline of the sermon was also beamed to the screen.
After church, everyone walked to their cars and traffic backed up around the parking lot. Deborah was ready for the bathroom, but she knew she could wait until she got home. She also looked forward to the smell of roast beef in the oven that would greet her when she got home, but instead of going home, her father parked the car in front of a restaurant. She didn’t recall her new mom putting a roast into the oven after all.
Deborah waited until they had sat down and ordered before excusing herself to use the restroom. Her pull-up was dry so far, but she didn’t plan on peeing in it on purpose. She used the toilet like normal. She returned to the table and started to eat her food.
