Page 98 of Loving the Sinner
I think she looks hot as fuck, but I also see where she’s coming from.
She changes into some denim overalls with a cropped black t-shirt underneath, so the sides of her belly show when she raises her arms. Her hair is down in waves from the braid she’s had it in all night, and she slips on some flip flops.
God, she’s so pretty.
I’m in some gray chino shorts and a plain black t-shirt. I slip on my Vans and then we’re headed out to what I’m sure will be an interesting dinner.
When we get there, Louise is bustling around the kitchen while Kent sits in the recliner, typing away on his laptop. The twins' shouts can be heard from their rooms and it sounds like they’re playing some type of video game. Izzy and Spencer are nowhere to be found, but I’m sure they’ll make an appearance eventually.
“Hi dad.” Elli says as she walks past her dad, and Kent looks up from his laptop and gives her a wave.
“Hey mom, how can I help?” Elli asks from the opposite side of the island.
“Oh no need to help. I’ve been doing it all by myself all day. No need to inconvenience anyone now.” Louise grumbles as she chops lettuce and puts it into a bowl.
“If you insist. I’m going to give Wes a tour of the house since we didn’t get to yesterday.”
“Fine. Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes.” She looks directly at me, “No funny business under my roof.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I agree. But I’m tempted to pull Elli into the bathroom and finger fuck her just to spite her mother.
“This is obviously the kitchen and the family room. You saw the garage.”
I noticed how stark white and clean everything was yesterday, but with so many bodies in here, it brought life to the space. Now, I look around and see there’s one family picture hanging above the couch on one wall, a picture of Jesus and a picture of a temple on another, and then the TV. It looks like a museum almost with how white the walls are.
Elli leads me to the stairwell and points down the short hallway. “Down there is my parents’ room, my dad’s office, and a bathroom.”
Wehead up the stairs, and at the top we come across three doors. I know the far right one leads to Izzy’s room, and the door is currently closed so Izzy must be in there. The door next to that one is dark, and the door on the far left is where the sounds of the twins talking is coming from.
“Izzy’s room, Spencer’s, and the twins’ room.” Elli points to each door. “The bathroom is down around that corner.”
“Wait, you all share a bathroom?”
“Unfortunately. Why do you think all of Izzy’s beauty products are piled on her desk? She doesn’t trust the twins not to mess around with them, and there’s no way she’d be quick enough for everyone to use the bathroom in the morning. I used to get ready in my room too, because there’s no way I was going to get in trouble for not sharing.”
“That makes sense. Why didn’t anyone use the bathroom downstairs?”
“That’s only for guests.” Izzy answers, coming out of her room.
“So, no one else can use it? Why not just clean it before guests come and use it in the meantime?” I ask.
Izzy shrugs. “Mom doesn’t want to be embarrassed by having a dirty bathroom, or dirtyhousefor that matter. So she made it off limits.”
Weird. But okay.
“Can you come help me pick a first day of school outfit, Els?” Izzy asks.
Elli agrees and we make our way to the bedroom. I wait in the doorway again, not wanting to intrude on the space. I turn around and look at the hallway and think about how different this place is compared to my childhood apartment.
Elli’s childhood home is clean and spacious. Although it does seem more clinical than warm and inviting, it feels safer than where I was raised.
I don’t remember much about where I lived before I was nine, but the apartments I was in from ages nine to thirteen were always dirty and run down. The wallpaper would be peeling and it would smell like cigarettes no matter how much we tried to air them out.
Elli’s mom probably always has food in the pantry and fridge and cooks homemade meals, where mine would usually get me a happy meal or something off the dollar menu, or would microwave a frozen TV dinner.
My mom tried her best, until Keith got her back on drugs. I don’t ever remember having an actual bed frame, but I had a clean mattress on the floor and that was good enough for me. When Keith would get mad, he would take away the sheets and blankets from my bed and make me sleep without them.
My clothes always smelled like they needed to be washed because I didn’t have a dresser, just a laundry basket to keep them in. Keith wasn’t supposed to smoke in the apartment, but he would anyway.
