love me. Didn’t even make it easy for them to want me around. I didn’t do anything except make people’s lives harder, and Julian was no exception.
He hadn’t said it in so many words, but I knew what he meant.
And when I’d been faced with the choice of leaving Summersea on my own, or asking him to come with me, those words had echoed in my mind. ‘You don’t make it easy.’
I’d made the right choice. No matter how many times I’d wondered, no matter how many nightmares I’d had over the years, I had to believe I’d made the right choice.
I just hoped, now that I was home, I could remember that.
4
Julian
“You’re late,” was all my dad said as he opened the front door to my childhood home.
His eyes said more, though. That I was not only late, but not particularly welcome. That I remained a disappointment and a failure. That he wished he didn’t have to let me into the house.
He did, though, stepping back and allowing me to walk into my parents’ spartan living room. I tried to suppress the shudder that always crawled up my spine whenever I walked back into that house. I made myself smile instead.
“I thought dinner was at 6:00?”
I looked pointedly at the grandfather clock on the mantel, which showed that it was 5:55. My dad just grunted and walked away towards his study. I sighed.
I’d long ago given up offering to bring something for dinner, or asking if I could help in any way. My presence was tolerated for two hours on Sunday evenings, but I swear my parents thought I’d contaminate their home if I spent any more time there, or touched more than was strictly necessary.
I walked across the living room, my feet creaking on the old boards, through the formal dining room with the cross ominously nailed to the wall behind the head of the table, and into the kitchen at the back of the house. My mother stood at the stove, her back to me. Katie was pulling water glasses down from the upper cabinets.
“Hi there.” I was careful to keep my voice neutral.
My mom turned around as though she were surprised to see me standing there. Like I didn’t come over every week at the same time.
“Oh. You’re here.” It was a statement of fact, and didn’t carry any warmth. “Does your father know?”
“He’s the one who let me in.”
She nodded, and turned back to the green beans she was boiling. Katie caught my eyes from across the kitchen and rolled hers. Only for a second, though, because my mom was already turning around again to give Katie a firm look.
“Kathryn, put those glasses on the table and go fetch your father. Supper is ready.”
“I can get them.”
I crossed the room to take the glasses from Katie under my mom’s disapproving stare. What was I going to do, get my churchless germs all over them? I walked out to the dining room to finish setting the table as my mom transferred the beans into a serving dish, and in short order, we were sitting around the dining room table, my father bowing his head sententiously.
“Heavenly Father, we thank You and praise You…”
You could practically hear the capital letters. Katie rolled her eyes again at me from across the table, but after giving her a small smile, I looked down at the tablecloth. I didn’t want to encourage her into open rebellion.
There was nothing wrong with saying grace in and of itself, but my dad’s version did tend to run a little long. He treated prayer as a chance to publicly castigate anyone he felt deserved it, and not a Sunday had passed that that list hadn’t included me. Sure enough, when I tuned back in, we’d moved into the ‘ungrateful offspring’ portion of the programming.
“We take comfort in Your wisdom and Your word. We know that You provide guidance to all those who seek, and punish those who stray from Your path into wickedness. Those who spurn Your commandments will feel Your wrath. Those who dishonor their elders will receive Your judgement.”
I risked a peek across the table and saw Katie’s nostrils flaring in anger. I shook my head gently, hoping she understood my silent plea. She always wanted to defend me to my parents, and I never felt it was worth the risk. I’d take my dad’s anger a hundred times over if I could keep it from landing on her.
“We pray, Lord, that You