Page 54 of Unexpected Hero

My religious trauma is far too painful for me to deal with in casual conversation. An occasional joke now and then is fine, but when it comes up in serious talk like now, I get twitchy.

“I know, but in this case, it’s true. I’m sorry, but I think he’s the forbidden fruit, and you’re going to get kicked out of the Garden of Eden if you take a bite.”

Stella and I were raised by Evangelical Christians, and we’ve bonded about our experiences on many occasions. Of course, there’s the typical shit that many other religions stand against, like murder, lying, extra-marital affairs, and so forth. Obviously, I’m good with those beliefs and live my life accordingly.

But it was the other beliefs they forced down our throats that drove me away once I was old enough to think for myself.

No sex outside the bonds of marriage.

No lustful thoughts.

No denying your husband. He is the head of the household.

No using birth control. It’s for whores, and God commanded us to multiply and replenish the earth.

No masturbating. It’s a perversion of the sacred act of making love.

Marriage is between a man and a woman only. Anything else is an abomination.

No alcohol. It’s the demon’s drink.

No tattoos or piercings. They’re decorations of the devil.

In other words, how dare you be a woman or an individual?

Ironically, Mama was fine lying to me my entire life, and apparently, it was a-okay to get a divorce, even though those are sins too. She told the church that Papa had become a non-believer who’d abandoned her, leaving her alone in her faith. It was the loophole she needed to save face and stay in good grace with the other zealots.

Papa agreed because he wanted her gone at that point. What started as him indulging her in her religious beliefs, even though he didn’t necessarily agree, turned into an ongoing nightmare that he and I both suffered through.

My eyes search the dingy navy blue carpet, cream-colored-ish walls, and stained ceiling.

This place is no Eden.

“Stella, listen. Let me go on this date and get the info before I decide. A job is a job is a job.”

“First of all, you don’t need my permission to do anything, including this. Second, are you hurting for money? I can send you—”

Now it’s my turn to interrupt. “No, no, hell no. No ma’am. I ain’t taking handouts from you. I’ll be fine.”

She huffs. “Whatever. But don’t take the first job that comes along just to avoid asking me or your grandmama-mama for help. Fuck your pride. If you need money, ask me. You hearin’ me, ma’am?”

“I got you.” I nod a few times, ready to announce my decision. “So I’m going tonight. I owe it to myself to at least get the details. But I won’t decide until I talk to you.”

“Please be careful. Sometimes, you’re so easily manipulated.”

“Excuse me. That was your outside voice.”

My offended retort isn’t an act. That freaking hurts.

“I’m sorry. I just worry about you. This isn’t the Lettie I know. I want you to be true to yourself.”

No longer able to hold back, I unload all my shit on her like a dump truck at the landfill up on Porter Road.

“Well, maybe I’m not supposed to be me anymore. I don’t even know who I am. Did you forget my entire world crumbled this year? My parents lied to me for my entire life. My birth parents are dead, and I’ll never know them. My boyfriend tried to assault me because I wouldn’t give him sex. The only father I’ve known died after a drawn-out battle with cancer right before my eyes. And the icing on the cake was quitting college because I couldn’t cut it.”

When I pause for a shaky breath, she quietly consoles me. “Don’t say it like that. You quit because taking care of your father put too much on your plate, not because you couldn’t cut it. You made a brave choice to prioritize him in his final months.” She pauses and gives her head a shake. “You’ll find your way back if a degree is in your path. Stop beating yourself up for that, or so help me, I’m coming down there to put you over my knee.”

The image she paints makes me think of James. The barest hint of happiness tries to bloom inside me. I might not know much about BDSM, but I know spanking is involved.

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