Chapter 1

The First Pentecostal Church in Fort Worth was small compared to the First Baptist Church I had to endure back in North Carolina, and though there were other cosmetic differences, the feel of the place gave me the same skin-crawling, spine-tingling, making-me-want-to-run-away-screaming feeling as the other. The only real difference was that even on this dreary, cloudy, gray day, the bell was ringing. The church where I came from had a bell too, but I had never heard it.

I went through the double doors, ready to scramble back out if necessary, but not finding a good enough reason to. The vestibule had tan wood paneling, and soft lighting from wall sconces. Soft pink flowers were hung on the walls, strung from one sconce to the next, and two women welcomed everyone and directed them into the Sanctuary. I followed, like the good little lamb they expected me to be.

Two rows of pews lined the middle aisle of the Sanctuary and more soft pink flowers decorated everything. An arch of flowers stood over the podium on the stage. Several large stained glass windows lined both outer walls. However, they were unable to offer any light from outside due to the cloud cover. There were a lot of people already seated and I didn’t know any of them. I sat down on the third pew from the back on the north side, leaving one pew between me and everyone else.

A man stood in front of the pedestal on the main stage. He wore a soft gray suit and a jovial smile. He was older, easily older than my parents, and looked over the congregation with pride. I didn’t know the man, but I was pretty sure he was the church’s pastor. Who else would stand there like that?

Another man stood a step down from the main stage. He had jet-black hair, chiseled features, and a nervous disposition. He wore a tuxedo that didn’t fit him very well and he fidgeted by tugging at the waist of the coat. Another man in a dark blue suit stood next to him. He was a little younger and they shared a strong family resemblance. If I had to guess, I would say they were brothers. Two other men stood next to him, but they didn’t have the family resemblance. They were either cousins or friends.

The rest of the people sitting around me all wore dark suits and whispered excitedly. Some of them looked my way and my apprehension grew. I could see that same family resemblance in several older people sitting on the same side of the sanctuary as the man in the tux; his father and uncles most likely, with maybe a few cousins thrown in. I didn’t know anything more than that though.

Adele’s version of “To Make You Feel My Love” played softly, but otherwise the place had that quiet aspect I had associated only with the single church I had attended. As much as the occasional stare from the people congregated, the quiet of the church made me nervous. I don’t know why. I only know that I don’t like churches, I don’t like being stared at as they were doing, and I willingly put myself in a position where this could happen.

Adele’s music stopped suddenly and the piano on the stage began playing. It was a cute little number. I didn’t know it, but everyone turned and through the doors from the vestibule came a woman I didn’t know. She had dirty blonde hair piled on top of her head, a slim build, and too much make-up. She wore a soft pink dress that, oddly, made me uncomfortable. She made her way up the aisle and was followed by another, younger woman dressed the same way, with similar hair. Next up was the only person I knew. She was the reason I was there, the reason I had agreed to endure this agony.

Vanessa Isabella came walking down the aisle, wearing the same soft pink dress as the others. The color matched all the flowers, and while it hugged her chest, waist and hips, it hung limply around her legs. Her long blonde hair was up in a complicated pile on her head, and her makeup was a little heavier than usual. Vanessa spotted me and smiled. I smiled too, but her overall appearance reminded me of another blonde I knew, trying on a similar dress. I closed my eyes and mentally shook myself, trying to dislodge the memory. When I looked again, Vanessa had passed me by, following the other bride’s maids. I took the opportunity to duck down to smack my own head a couple of times. The memory disturbed me. I didn’t want to think of her.

The piano music changed to a stuttering chord that was the beginning of the Bridal March, and the pianist made no effort to add any flair to it, as if it would hurt anything to stray from the notes on the pages she read.

I heard several small gasps, happy gasps at that, and sat up to look. The bride came in and I instantly understood why everyone was responding the way they were. Vanessa was a beautiful woman, and Jackie, the bride, followed suit. Her veil only covered half her face and was so thin I almost didn’t see it. Her hazel eyes twinkled and her smile was dazzling. I could have been looking at a younger sister of Vanessa’s rather than her cousin, they looked that much alike. The dress she wore was, of course, white. It was strapless and very nearly backless too. It held her tight at the waist and hugged her hips about halfway down before flowing out into a skirt that followed her legs rather than billowing out or making her look like it needed additional wire to keep its shape. I had to admit, it was elegant and sexy.

Jackie was escorted by an older man. He stood almost a full head taller than her, with a full head of hair that was only starting to show a touch of gray here and there. He wore a dark blue suit and walked tall and proud. I didn’t know Jackie, but if that was her father, then I understood why he felt the way he did. When they reached the step where the man in the tux stood, the older man turned to the bride, whispered something to her, kissed her cheek, and finally laid her hand in the other man’s hand. I thought there was some tension but no one’s face grimaced, no one’s body language suggested problems. Then the older gentleman stepped over to the front pew behind the bride and sat down.

The pastor couldn’t have a ceremony like this without preaching at least a little bit. He said a few things about the presence of God and how such ceremonies would always be the most sacred. Then he led us through a short prayer to watch over everyone, especially the bride and groom. Finally, he started the ceremony with words both familiar and well known.

I’m not one to spoil anyone else’s happiness. After all, that’s why I was there. But I did entertain the idea of someone shouting out when he reached the part of, “If anyone believes that this couple should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.” Everyone looked around nervously. Some of those eyes turned my way. I supposed it was possible some people thought I was the bride’s secret lover since they didn’t know me, but no one said anything and the pastor resumed the ceremony.

When it was over, the newlyweds kissed, and everyone stood up, applauding. I joined in. It was only polite, regardless of how uncomfortable I was. Then the bride and groom strode back up the aisle and out into the vestibule. The crowd followed them after the pastor announced that the reception would be held in the bingo hall next door.

I stayed put, hoping that Vanessa would go change out of that dress first and then come find me. Everyone left with only happy twittering, even the pastor. Vanessa slipped by without seeing me. I certainly didn’t see her. It only took a couple of minutes for everyone to leave the Sanctuary empty. I stood there in that eerie quiet, contemplating whether to wait for Vanessa there or go out to the parking lot. It didn’t take me long to decide to go outside.

A short ways away, at the far end of the church, everyone was disappearing into another building. I walked over to the parking lot and found Vanessa’s car. Her bag wasn’t inside, but that didn’t tell me what to expect the next time I saw her. We had arrived later than expected. She ran inside with that pink dress on a hanger to change before the ceremony started. I had strolled in to find someplace to sit. I had no way to know how seeing Vanessa in that dress would affect me. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, and I would have to simply get over my problems. After all, I seriously doubted I would ever see her again.

I turned around to lean against the car and spotted Vanessa walking my way. The skirt of the dress fluttered around her shapely legs and the wind fought to pull her hair out of the complicated knot she had it tied in. She smiled at me and that same memory surfaced again.

I had a job while in high school, working for Mr. Chambers as his assistant. He was an auto mechanic and worked on all kinds of car problems. I helped him, grabbing tools or parts for him as he called out for them. He didn’t have a family, so he didn’t have any kids of his own who could fill that role. Regardless of the reasons he hired me, which continue to elude me, I learned more from him than how to change the oil on different makes and models of cars and trucks. He was pretty good about making sure I got home early enough so I could do any homework I had, and he paid me a “fair wage”, as he put it.

That night, he paid me, with a bonus he threw in for the three cars I had taken care of without any supervision from him. He had been working on a troublesome transmission from old Mr. Langston’s truck. I had helped without having to be told to do it and that earned me one of his rare grunts of approval. After giving me the money, he sent me home, and reminded me not to go saving every dime for college. I had earned it, and should enjoy at least a little bit.

He was right about me saving every dime. I didn’t know what college was going to cost. It also helped that I didn’t have a car or motorcycle to need gas for. I rode a bicycle everywhere. The only costs I had to worry about were buying a new tube if I popped a tire. I knew how to fix them too. So, it was on the way home that evening that I stopped in the grocer’s to buy a soda. It was a treat as much as Mr. Chamber’s approval. I came out of the store, fighting off the indignity of the new accusations I heard being directed at my back, and bent to unlock my bike chain when I looked up into the large picture glass in front of Shirley’s.

Shirley’s was a small shop that catered to the current season, which meant their wares changed every month. The shop had been there as long as I could remember and didn’t seem to have any problems drawing in customers. That day, there was a particular customer I could have done without seeing.

Lisa Hartwell and several of her friends stood just on the other side of the picture glass, modeling their prom dresses in front of several large mirrors. Lisa had put her hair up – to make changing clothes easier I suppose – and she wore a soft pink dress similar to the one Vanessa wore. And like Vanessa, now standing in front of me with a look of curiosity on her face as she tried to guess at what was passing through my head, Lisa looked up and saw me outside.

I remembered an entire chorus of different emotions flooding my head and chest. I also remember fighting with the chain, trying to get out of there as fast as possible, tripping, falling on my bike, knocking my soda onto the concrete, and cutting my knee on the broken glass all at the same time. I had been embarrassed, horrified, and something else I didn’t even know how to begin to understand, and standing in front of Vanessa, remembering that day, I felt many of those same emotions. Only I finally understood that other elusive feeling. It was one I had been introduced to after I moved away from home and had enjoyed since then.

I looked up into Vanessa’s eyes and felt aroused. Extremely aroused.

“Are you okay?” Vanessa asked me. It was the first thing anyone had said directly to me since we arrived.

I wasn’t sure how to answer. Other than the rampant emotions, I was fine. I nodded. “You reminded me of someone I’d rather not think about.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Who?” Did I mention she was a therapist? I should have known better than to give her a hint like that. It meant she would coerce me into talking about it.

“Didn’t I just say that I didn’t want to think about her?” I said, as a point of importance.

She nodded. “Yes, but it’s obvious you need to talk about this.”

I took a deep, steadying breath and said, “Shouldn’t we go to the reception?”

Vanessa blinked at me. “We will, but talk to me first. Who did I remind you of?”

I hadn’t told her much about my past even with the amount of time the two of us had spent together over the last month. To be honest, I thought some of the other girls might have filled her in. She was a therapist, but her specialty was couples. Since I had issues that had nothing to do with relationships, I tried not to burden her with those details. I shook my head. “It’s not important.”

She reached out and grabbed my hand. A shudder ran through me that had nothing to do with my memories of Lisa Hartwell. I was fully focused on Vanessa. It was such a small gesture, something most people would have enjoyed but not let sway them so strongly. For me, however, it brought forth desires not appropriate for church grounds. More than how it made me feel, I could see the same thoughts and desires stream through her eyes, like the sticky wet goodness of candy. She stepped closer and I backed into her car. Then she pressed her body against mine, and said, “Tell me who you were thinking about.”

To be fair, I’ve never had much willpower around Vanessa. It was easy to avoid talking about certain issues because I spent a lot of time attending classes, working, or studying. However, in moments like this, there was no escaping. “I was thinking about ... Lisa.”

She frowned. “Lisa Hartwell?”

I met her eyes and nodded. I didn’t know what to think, so I said nothing.

She blinked and studied my face. “We need to talk about this, but...”

I glanced past her and spotted a woman walking our way. I nodded, both in agreement and at the woman approaching. Vanessa turned and sighed.

The woman had dark hair, as in nearly jet-black. She also had many features similar to Vanessa’s, the long, straight nose, the lovely eyes, and the abundant chest. Unlike Vanessa though, this woman had crow’s feet and laugh lines that were deeper than normal with the severe frown she sported. “Here you are.” she said looking at Vanessa. Then she looked at me and said, “Who is this?” Her whole demeanor changed. The lines in her face softened, the frown shifted toward a soft smile, and the dark clouds in her eyes that warned me of trouble parted.

Vanessa either didn’t notice the change or ignored it. She held onto my hand and said, “Aunt Laura, this is Seth. Seth, my Aunt Laura.”

Aunt Laura held out her hand and said, “It’s good to meet you.”

I shook her hand and nodded.

She looked at Vanessa. “Everyone’s been looking for you for pictures.”

Vanessa smiled slightly and looked at me. “C’mon.”

With a small tug from her, we all headed for the reception. Vanessa held onto me like she was scared. I noticed her demeanor had changed too, like she had lost all the independence she had or something. She let Aunt Laura lead us through the crowd to the wedding party. Aunt Laura stopped next to the woman holding the camera and looked at us. Vanessa stopped too, and I had no choice but to stop, her grip on my hand had turned vice-like. I knew there was some tension between her and Laura, but I didn’t know it was that bad.

I didn’t know if I could really help, but I pulled Vanessa around to look at me. “I’ll be right here. I’m not leaving.”

Vanessa smiled and kissed me. It was only a simple touching of our lips, but I wanted more – a lot more. I could feel her vibrating in my arms. She shook with desire, and I knew it was true because I did too. She pulled away reluctantly, looked into my eyes while rubbing her belly against me, and stepped back to join the others for the photos.

I was only aware of Vanessa, until Aunt Laura’s commanding voice broke through, then I realized that almost the entire wedding party as well as all the guests were looking either at me or Vanessa. I avoided their eyes and found Vanessa smiling at me.

Laura took control of the situation at that point. She arranged everyone both to make sure they could all be seen and to put her daughter at the center of the photos. I didn’t say anything. I simply kept my eyes on Vanessa. Her eyes were stuck on me too. It was apparently so bad that Laura tapped my shoulder and asked me to stand behind the photographer so Vanessa would at least be looking in the right direction. I complied. It kept the peace.

When the full wedding party had been photographed in several arrangements, Laura directed different groups, the bride and bride’s maids, the groom and groomsmen, the bride and groom only, the groom and his best man, the bride and her maid of honor, etc. Then she started including family members with the bride and groom. It took a long time.

Out of the blue, Laura turned to me. “How about the Maid of Honor with her date?”

I looked at Vanessa. She beamed. I agreed.

Finally, Jackie had to pull her mother over with her to get a picture of them together. She directed a few other sets and finally, they decided they had enough posed photos.

The rest of the reception included all of the usual stuff, cutting the cake, toasts, etc. I couldn’t avoid meeting the guests, especially after the little exchange between me and Vanessa. She was there to make introductions when she knew the person, and to help make things less awkward for me when she didn’t. It wasn’t until some of the guests started to leave and everyone was sitting around talking that Vanessa dragged me to the short hallway at the back and into the women’s bathroom for some privacy.

We had been all but attached at the hip since the photos, and both of us were virtually humming with need. I understood her need and only had one concern. “Why are we in the women’s bathroom?”

She smiled at me. “Would you prefer to sneak into the church to do this?”

I glanced back at the door, giving it serious thought.

She lightly slapped my shoulder. “You would!”

Chapter 2 »