Page 20 of Spike

Gemma textedasking if I’d made it inside before the warden had caught me, and I’d sent backan eyerolling emoji, but she wasn’t far off with how my parents made me feelmost days. I needed to make a change, I just didn’t know how to do it.

An hour later,there’d been no knock on my door, so I let out a breath of relief, suddenlyfeeling a little silly I’d worried that my mommy might catch me sneaking backinto my home after my salacious brunch with my best friend.

It was ridiculous,really.

I slid out of bedand headed to my kitchen, desperately wanting some tea and maybe a cookie orthree. Or maybe I’d try not to eat the cookies. Spike didn’t make mention ofthe fact I’d gained at least forty pounds since high school, and I wore itsomewhat well, according to Gemma, but if I had a chance in ‘H, E, doublehockey sticks’ with the sexy biker, I feared gaining any more weight would be adeal breaker for him.

I had just steppedto my sink when I heard, “Christine Esther Mitchell.”

I squeaked,spinning to find my mother sitting in my high-backed chair by the window. Itwas my favorite and one of the few things I’d actually bought on my own.

“Mom! You scaredme to death.”

She raised aneyebrow. “I thought you were sick.”

“I was. I’mfeeling much better.”

“So sick you wentout earlier?”

I blushed, sayingnothing in an effort not to lie to her.

“We don’t lie toeach other in this house, Christine.”

I sighed. “I justwanted a break from church, Mama.”

“Well, as long asyou’re living under our roof, you’ll go to church every Sunday, honey. That’s adeal.”

“Technically, I’mlivingoveryour roof.”

“Don’t sass me,young lady.”

“Please don’t talkto me like I’m a little girl.”

“Please don’t actlike a petulant child and I won’t have to talk to you like one.”

“Look, Mom, I’msorry I lied about being sick.”

“It’s not only meyou should apologize to,” Mom said. “Your father worked very hard on thisweek’s sermon, and perhaps if you’d been there to hear it, you would have abetter understanding of the teachings of Jesus and how to better follow them.”

“Do you actuallythink that I haven’t heard every sermon possible ten times over by now? TheBible’s big, Mama, but it’s not that big.”

“Christine, whathas gotten into you?” Mama demanded. “It’s that Gemma girl, isn’t it?”

“Mom, Gemma’s beenmy best friend since sixth grade.”

“That girl putswild thoughts into your head and I don’t like it.”

“How would youknow what Gemma and I talk about?” I challenged. “You barely acknowledge sheexists as a person, let alone know anything about her. Talk about sermons, I’msure Daddy has preached more than a few times about the sin of beingjudgmental.”

“That’s it, younglady, this impertinence needs to stop right now.”

“No, I will pertall I want,” I snapped, trying not to laugh at my joke because my mother wasobviously taking this inane conversation seriously. “I’m old enough to pert andI’ve earned the right to pert. In fact, maybe it’s not only time to findanother place to live, but a different church to attend.”

My mother lookedlike she saw a train barreling toward her and she was tied to the tracks. “Whywould you say something so cruel? It would break your father’s heart.”

“Maybe, for once,this isn’t about Daddy. Or you, for that matter. Maybe this time, it’s aboutwhat I want. What I need.”

“Your father isthe most anointed teacher of God’s word I have ever known. What could youpossibly find in another church that you couldn’t find at Lifesprings?”

---