Page 8 of Living for Truth
“I’ve been good. How about you? How is Sister Bragg?” I reply, hoping I can distract him so I won’t have to answer any more personal questions.
“She’s good. Kyle is getting married next weekend to a nice girl from Logan, so that’ll be good. Hopefully we’ll have a grandchild next year!”
I force a smile. “That would be great for you.”
“Yes, very.” His face changes from polite casualness to serious. “Now, Hannah, I noticed we haven’t had you in for a temple interview yet, and your recommend expired a few months ago. The bishopric wanted to reach out and make sure everything was going okay, that you weren’t straying off the path or needing some extra guidance.”
Damn it.
I was hoping they didn’t actually keep track of stuff like that. That I could slip under the radar and eventually just slip away without consequences.
I can’t answer the temple questions honestly without raising questions and being put on their “watch” list. Not that I want to go to the temple anyway. That place is creepy as hell, and I’ve never felt any semblance of peace there.
“I’ve been very busy with work, and it must have slipped my mind,” I say, hoping he drops it.
“Well, we can do it right now if you have the time? Then we just need to get in contact with the stake president to schedule a meeting after.”
I would rather kiss burger lips again than do this stupid interview. Luckily for me, I have an excellent reason why I can’t.
“I would love to, but we’re having a family dinner tonight, and I have to get home to make the jello salad.”
Brother Bragg nods like he’s trying to decide if he can force me to stay. Finally, he sighs and says, “Family is the most important thing. But you make sure you schedule an appointment to get your recommend renewed. It’s the only place you can go to be close to God.”
I should get an award for not rolling my eyes. I smile politely and nod, then he lets me leave with a firm handshake.
I wasn’t lying about family dinner. I was only half lying about the jello salad; we made it this morning. Everyone is coming to watch my brother, Jake, open his mission call.
When I pull up to the house, I already see Uncle Kent and Aunt Louise’s van parked in the driveway, whichmeans Elli’s parents are going to interrogate me about their daughter’s life.
Elli and her parents had a falling out because she left the church and started dating Wes, a tattooed, pierced, long-haired musician. They blame her for Izzy, her little sister, also wanting to leave the church.
Now, Izzy’s the only person in their family who talks to Elli, so they resort to asking me sly questions to see if I’ll give them more information than Izzy does.
I won’t. My loyalty lies with my cousin, not with her mom.
I open the door to pure chaos.
“Oh, Hannah! Good. You’re late, but you’re here. I need you to get the tablecloth from the closet. The green one with the embroidered flowers. It needs to go on the table. Oh! We need to put the leaf in the table so it will be big enough. Then, you can fill water pitchers and wash the fruit,” my mom chitters, flitting from the stove to the sink.
I hate it when she does this. She stresses herself out when she hosts. Then,Iget a task list a mile long just because I live here. I spent the day cleaning the house yesterday before my date, and now I’m doing the last minute prepwork while my dad and brother sit around.
“Got it, Mom. Sorry I’m late, Brother Bragg wanted to meet with me for a minute. Hi, Aunt Louise, Uncle Kent.” I wave to my aunt and uncle, who are helping in the kitchen and sitting on the couch with my dad, respectively.
My mom stops in her tracks and turns to me. “Why did he want to meet with you?”
I shrug. “Just checking in.”
She eyes me skeptically but drops it quickly and goes back to running around. I make my way down the hall and into the linen closet to grab the tablecloth, and when I come back, Uncle Kent and my dad, Mitch, are putting the leaf in the table. I lay the tablecloth on it and make sure it’s even on all sides.
I walk to the pantry to grab the pitchers for the water when Izzy comes and grabs them from me. “Hey, Han. Let me fill these, you can wash the fruit.”
“Thanks, Izzy. You’re the best.” I give her arm a gentle squeeze.
The place fills with more aunts, uncles, and cousins in the next hour, and our house barely fits the mass of bodies. Heaven forbid someone opens a mission call in private.
My mom has eight siblings, and if they’re all able to attend family gatherings, they do so along with their plethora of kids. My mom, Aunt Pam, and Aunt Alice are the only ones with two kids, everyone else has at least five. Alice doesn’t really hang around the family anymore because she left the church a long time ago. I miss her, but I get it.
Today, only two of my mom’s siblings are here; the rest of them will likely be at the farewell. Aunt Pam, her husband, John, and their son, Nathan, and Uncle Kent and his family. Pam and my mom are super close. Pam’s like a second mom to me. At least, she was until she started distancing herself from not only me, but the whole family for some reason. It probably has to do with the sect of Mormonism she and John joined. While the whole religion is made up, there are different variationspeople sometimes branch off to, usually led by another white man who claims to have been chosen by God.
