Page 6 of Sunday Morning

“My pleasure,” he said.

“Sarah, let’s move everything to the kitchen table so I can get the ham and scalloped potatoes out of the oven,” Violet said. “Maybe your sisters can help you fill the eggs.”

I opened my mouth for an “okay,” but the only thing that escaped was a loud belch. As my mom winced with a painfully sour face, I cupped a hand over my mouth. What did I expect after chugging that much soda all at once?

“Sarah,” my mom said in a harsh whisper as Isaac snickered with his fist over hismouth.

“Excuse me,” I murmured, tucking my chin and carrying the bowl to the kitchen table.

“Eve, Gabby, come help your sister fill the eggs,” Mom called.

“Isaac, go find the rest of the men and tell them dinner will be served in about ten minutes.” Violet nodded toward the door.

He eyed me while passing the table on his way out. I kept a neutral expression as if nothing had happened, as if I didn’t have approximately two to three shots of hard liquor in my system.

I felt a little warmer and cared a little less. And that wasn’t good.

Ten minutes later, everyone sat at the dining room table—the dads at opposite ends, our moms and my sisters on one side, and me sandwiched between Matt and Isaac on the other side.

My dad cleared his throat. “Shall we say grace?” Dad held out his hands, and everyone followed suit.

Then the darndest thing happened: that liquid poison messed with my memory. I forgot Matt was on my left, so with myrighthand, I put his hand (only not his hand) on my inner thigh.

There were two things worth noting:

1.) Under sober conditions, I would not have done that.

2.) Isaac was on my right.

Okay, there were three things worth noting.

3.) Matt’s hand (which was actually Isaac’s) squeezed my leg, and it felt good, so I said as much.

Out. Loud.

“That feels so good.” Once I heard my voice, I opened my eyes. For the record, I was praying even if my dad hadstopped, which he had. I was praying I didn’t say those words outside my head.

From the confused gazes on me, I knew the answer. So I looked at Matt for help. Why did he do that? His hand was no longer on my leg. Still, it was pretty disrespectful for him to put me in that position, even if it felt good. And even if I did sort of instigate it. But Matt looked as confused as everyone else.

Everyone except Isaac, who was on my right.

Oh, no. It was his hand!

He smirked.

“Praise the Lord,” I said. “It feels so good to Praise God.”

Dad scowled, but Mom smoothed things over. “Praise God, indeed,” she said, unfolding her napkin and draping it on her lap while flashing Violet an angelic smile. “Everything looks and smells amazing, Vi. May it all nourish and bless our bodies.”

“Amen,” everyone mumbled before passing the food around the table.

I was too buzzed to hit my plate with the food, so after my slice of ham landed on the table beside the plate (which nearly no one saw), Isaac served me the rest of the food. Thankfully, his assistance went unnoticed.

Throughout the meal, I spontaneously giggled and immediately covered my mouth with a fist, disguising it as a cough. My parents talked about my sisters working at the church to help run Vacation Bible School, which I had done in previous summers.

“What about you, Sarah?” Violet asked. “Have you decided what you’re doing this summer? We’d love to have you help on the ranch.”

I was eighteen, so I got to choose my summer job for the first time.