Page 61 of Living for Truth
Emma answers first, “Yep.” She pops the “p.” “I was the first to leave, as soon as I graduated high school. There was a lot that made me leave, but I honestly don’t think I ever really believed in it. As soon as I was old enough to legally remove my records, I did.”
“I only left last year. I’d been questioning it for a while after reading certain literature and finding out the true history of it. I also just wasn’t happy in it. I’m much happier now that I don’t have to base every life decision on arbitrary rules made up by old white men who say they can talk to God,” Elli explains, and Hannah and Emma murmur their agreement.
“Sage is the one who brought all the history and stuff to my attention. What really broke my shelf though, was how people talked about miscarriages. They made it seem like God was trying to teach me something every time I lost a baby, and I was angry. Why would an all-powerful being force me to endure things like that for no reason? People alsoheavilyimplied if I couldn’t have a baby I was unworthy of being a mom, which was hard to hear,” Hannah states, and I place a comforting hand on her thigh.
“What do you mean, ‘broke your shelf?’” It’s a phrase I’ve never heard before.
“It’s a phrase used by the ex-Mormon community. I don’t know if other religions use it,” Emma explains. “Basically it means you find out all these issues or lies out about the church but because you want to be a faithful member, you put them on a metaphorical shelf.”
“Then,” Elli continues “The shelf starts cracking from the weight of all the things on it, and thatone last thingyou just can’t look past gets put on there, and it breaks.”
Hannah finishes off the explanation with, “That’s the point people usually leave. Or, in my case, just go through the motions.”
“Damn. That sounds like a lot to go through. Are your families okay with it?” I ask Elli and Emma. I already know how Hannah’s mom feels about her decision.
Emma lets out a sardonic laugh. “I come back once a year if I’m able to because things with my family are so tense. My parents are extremely displeased with all of my life choices.”
Elli nods. “My parents act like I don’t exist anymore. I only have contact with my little sister, Izzy, who’s going to graduate in a few weeks and move to Texas and live with me.”
“I can’t imagine Aly doing anything that would make me cut her off. Unless it was like, murder or something.” Is parenting within the confines of religion really that much different?
“That’s because you love her unconditionally,” Elli says sadly, and my heart hurts for her.
Oblivious to the deep conversation we’re having, the waiter chipperly brings our food, helping to ease some of the tension.
Once we all have our food, the topic shifts to things a bit lighter like work and romantic partners. Elli gives mea brief summary of her love story, all the miscommunications and bumps in the road, but how their souls are intertwined, and she can’t imagine not having him in her life.
I can relate. I feel that way about Hannah.
“Ugh. If you guys weren’t so freaking cute I’d gag over how sweet you are.” Emma twirls her pasta around her fork almost angrily.
“No special someone for you, Emma?” I can’t imagine she’s single. She’s feisty, but I can see a sensitive center underneath that bubbly exterior. And I may only have eyes for Hannah, but even I can appreciate that Emma is gorgeous.
“Nope.” She pops the “p” again, but doesn’t elaborate further.
“Emma’s sworn off any serious relationships,” Hannah explains.
“Orgasm-ships only for me!” Emma puts her fist out for a fist bump from Elli, and Elli rolls her eyes but obliges.
“I have a feeling someone is going to change that attitude sometime soon. Right when you least expect it.” I grin, and Emma scoffs.
“Highly doubt it, Flower Daddy. But I appreciate your enthusiasm.”
I look at Hannah and mouth,Flower Daddy?She just shrugs, shakes her head, and continues eating her burger.
“You’re a flower shop owner and a father, Morgan. Get your mind out of the gutter,” Emma chides, and I can’t help but laugh. I don’t think that’s at all what she meant, but what do I know?
It’s nice to have adult conversations with people I’m not related to, and Emma and Elli don’t seem awkward or wary with me at all. They ask about Aly, but not in a way that seems like they feel obligated to. Neither of them want kids, so I find it endearing they want to know about my little girl.
All three of them try to fight me when I offer to pay the bill, but I don’t budge on it. Emma huffs about being an independent woman who doesn’t need a man, but I point out now she can spend more money on drinks, and it seems to appease her.
When we make it to the concert venue, Elli leads us around the back where she bumps fists with a gentleman with long brown hair in a braid down his back, two different colored eyes, wearing a navy blue chevron print blazer over a white tank top and high waisted jean shorts.
“That’s Misha, the manager. He’s an interesting guy and one of kindest people I’ve ever met,” Elli explains as she leads us through a hallway to what I assume is the green room.
I’ve never been backstage at a concert unless someone was performing at half-time, so I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’tthis.
The room isn’t green, for one, it’s got black walls and multi-colored furniture scattered around. There’s a table with snacks and drinks, and I can see some clothing racks and vanities along the edges.
