just too ‘thin’ and that there were all these hidden expectations that couldn’t be fulfilled and that unless there was a ‘sacrament’ it wasn’t valid anyway and he respected me more than that and he thought this might be different. Ad nauseum.
I mean, I’m ‘Catholic’ and all. Which is to say I made my First Communion, back in the days when Chad had a job and he and my mom were married. But of course all that evaporated.
Anyway, I threw him out. I mean, I’m not sure about the gay thing but what the hell kind of religion keeps people from doing what’s natural when they’re in love? Seems like classic denial to me.
For sure, there’s all kinds out there. Which is part of why I began to think it’s important that I share my hard-earned knowledge and perspective with my one sibling on this earth. So that’s why I called her. Melissa turned eighteen last month, and it has been about a year since we saw each other, so I asked her to dinner for Saturday night.
She drove up in her birthday gift, a lipstick-red Mustang convertible. (I drive a five year old Japanese sedan with low mileage – ‘new to me’, as they say.) She stepped out, clicked the lock with her flawless French manicure, and tossed her long mane of pale blond hair behind her back.
I kid you not; her dress had no back. And when I looked down when we air-kissed, I could see her thong. Needless to say, every male head turned as she walked by.
I mean, I’m okay-looking, I guess. Normal height. Normal weight. Thick auburn hair, like my mom’s. Sam used to say he liked my green eyes. But I never turned every male head in a swank restaurant in my entire life.
“So!” I said with false heartiness, when we had settled into our booth. Melissa seemed unfazed by all the attention. “You’re all grown up, now!”
Melissa glanced at me with an expression I instantly recognized: the ‘I’m here to humor you because you’re an adult relative and there might be something in it for me” look.
She didn’t look like she would be amenable to me asking any questions about her new ‘look’, either. Last time I saw her, she was running around in sweats, prepping for a triathalon. What had happened?
So, I was cautious. I asked all the usual questions, which she answered, apparently to humor me.
..."but what the hell kind of religion keeps people from doing what’s natural when they’re in love? Seems like classic denial to me."
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REGINA Fiction