Out of Anywhere by Andrea Nourse

Author:Andrea Nourse [Nourse, Andrea]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Andrea Nourse

Twenty-Two

Gaines Baptist Church looked just as idyllic in person as it did online. The pristine white building stood bright against the clear blue sky. A thick forest filled with tall oak and pine trees lined the back of the property. The gravel drive was surrounded by a white picket fence. Wanda, as much as I love her, stood out like a sore thumb against the shiny pickups and minivans. I parked her at the very back of the parking lot, avoiding the visitor parking spots. Easy exit and she’d stand out a bit less being hidden under the cover of trees.

Like my car, I relegated myself to a back pew, close to the aisle. My legs trembled as I sat down. I tucked the gray dress, another of Hannah’s designs, under my legs and smoothed the skirt over my knees. My tattered black flats felt out of place too, but I ignored the embarrassment stinging in my cheeks. I was used to wishing for clothes that made me fit in. Something without holes that exposed every flaw of my life. Frayed hems to match the lack of a stable career. Ripped knees for all the times the road bottomed out beneath me. Loose strings. Pilling sweaters. Aside from the gifted clothes from Hannah, I’d never owned anything that fit well or was free of blemishes.

A frazzled mother with two teenagers who clearly did not want to be there climbed past me. The eldest, a girl no older than fifteen, glared down at me. I’d encroached on their territory. When they sat down, all three turned towards me and scowled. I pulled the old Bible, a long-forgotten gift from Susan, from my backpack and opened it to the verse mentioned in the program. The topic of the day appeared to be forgiveness. Reading through the verses mentioned, I wondered if Chris had told our father about the match. I wasn’t sure I wanted Chris to be the one to tell him about me; that was my truth to speak. Did Ken know he had a daughter out there? Had Mom told him about me?

“Good morning, neighbors,” a friendly voice said over the speakers, interrupting my thoughts. “Let’s all stand and turn to page 55 and join the choir in singing praise to our God.”

I set the Bible on the pew beside me and reached for the old, worn hymnal. I tried to ignore the curious eyes glancing towards me, but I felt them following my every move. Oak County was small, and Gaines was even smaller. The packed church likely represented more than two-thirds of the town’s entire population. Keeping my eyes to myself, I stood and focused on the organ playing. The notes filtered through the sanctuary. Rather than call more attention to myself, I mouthed along with the words. No one needed to hear my pathetic and terrifying attempts at singing.

Two songs later, a tall, lanky man with sandy blonde hair walked to the pulpit. I recognized instantly that he was my father.

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