Chapter 6

“Excellent meal, Mother Hannah,” I told Mother Hannah, who blushed and blew me a kiss.

“Oh, you’re very welcome! This was made in your honor, so that means especially much. I always like to hear that my work is appreciated. You know, this is the only life for me. Being a domestic goddess. This is my purpose in life. It’s what I was born to do, to cook, to clean, to mother people. Nurturing. It’s just ... my role in life. Home. Family. These are what I do, what I know.

“It’s no accident that my favorite deity is Hestia, or as the Romans called her, Vesta. Goddess of hearth and home. I pray to her a lot, along with Mother Gaia, Kubaba Cybele, the Cappadocian Goddess Ma, Hecate, Isis, and Dann or Dana. Brigid as well. Demeter, also known as Ceres, from whose Latin name the word cereal is coined.

“Yes, I’ve come a long way since my Jesus Freak days. Our church incorporates a very eclectic combination of spiritual and religious traditions, including the Buddhism of my wife, Crystal. She is able to remain a true Buddhist and still be a member of the Church of Earth and Man. The two are not mutually exclusive. Buddhism, Hinduism, Taoism, Shinto, Satanism, Paganism, Wicca, Stoicism, Neoplatonism, Pythagoreanism, so many influences. At heart, we’re a New Age, omnist, interfaith church. Even Jewish Kabbalah has a place here.

“I’ve heard that you’re interested in LaVeyan Satanism, and, yes, there is even a place for that tradition, as well as the ideals of Aleister Crowley in some respects. My son, Brother Jake, is a bit more of a teacher about such things. A guide to us all, my young man.

“I have such love and esteem for him that, despite being a lesbian in my sexual orientation, I make exceptions for him and for my brother, Steve, to bed and breed me. NO ONE ELSE. I feel the need to stipulate that because of ... recent events. There must be no confusion on this point.

“I have plenty of love for all of you, more than you could guess. I will happily feed you, hug you, cry with you, comfort you, let you cry on my shoulder, worship with you, pray with you, drink with you, eat and break bread with you, give my blood for you if necessary, all of these things. The one thing that I will not do for you is engage in sexual congress with you. Period. In any way, shape, or form.

“It seems to me, though, as noted before, that you grasp the necessity of respecting consent, or lack thereof in this case. I can trust you to treat our sweet Jessie and the baby here very well, just as I can trust not to violate me. I am happy to be a mother, especially to the motherless like you. But that’s all that I can be for you. A mother. Loving, nurturing, caring, cooking, feeding, laughing, crying, all of those things. But no sex. Of any kind.

“I made a similar speech to another young man who came in out of the cold not that long ago, accompanied only by his own sister, whom he abused and raped. He repaid our kindness with cruelty and assault upon my person. He was the brother of your fiancee, of course. James Adams. Anyway, end of sermon. Was this your first hot brown?” Mother Hannah stunned me with the ease with which she changed topics, just as with her firmness on the issue of keeping things strictly platonic.