Chapter Five
Jessica
Ruthie had fallen asleep by the time I put the casserole dish in the oven. Mama put her back in her crib, then returned to the kitchen and looked me over before suggesting, “Why don’t you go get cleaned up. Curl your hair and put on that pretty pink sundress you have.”
I chuckled wryly. “I don’t think that will fit me anymore.”
“You should try.”
“Mama, I got that dress in high school. I don’t even think I could get it past my hips right now. I still have twenty-five pounds of baby weight to lose.”
She ran her gaze from my head to my toes, then back up again, and must have noticed my extra curves as she said, “Fine—wear one of your church dresses, then.”
“Why can’t I just wear what I had on earlier?” It’d been good enough to meet with Chancellor Vought.
“For goodness sake, Jessica Rose, you can’t wear pants to dinner with Elder Roberts!”
I felt my forehead wrinkle when I asked, “Why not?”
“Because it gives a bad impression!”
I wanted to ask her why Mr. Roberts would care about what I wore to dinner. He was her and Papa’s friend—not mine. Besides, his daughters were close to my age, I’m sure they didn’t dress up for dinner every night.
“I can eat in the kitchen,” I offered.
“Absolutely not! You’ll eat with us, and you’ll wear a dress and look nice. End of discussion.”
Okay, then…
~~~~
When I came back downstairs, Papa and Mr. Roberts were talking in the living room, drinking glasses of lemonade.
Papa normally had a beer when he came home from his job at the lithium mine. But since drinking alcohol was frowned upon by church leaders, I wasn’t surprised to find him not imbibing in his normal Bud Light.
“Here she is!” Papa said with a bright smile when I walked in the room.
I did a double take.
Is he greeting me in such a friendly manner?
I glanced over my shoulder to make sure Mama hadn’t walked in with the baby in her arms.
Papa continued, “Jess, you remember Elder Roberts?”
Mr. Roberts stood up and extended his hand. I took it as I replied to my father, “Yes, of course. He’s Mindy and Melanie’s dad.”
“Good to see you, Jessica,” Mr. Roberts said as he released my hand and sat back down on the couch. “You look beautiful.”
I glanced down at my feet on the carpet and murmured, “Thank you.”
I certainly didn’t feel beautiful. With the exception of the outfit I’d worn today, none of my old clothes fit. So, I was relegated to either yoga pants and t-shirts, or the hand-me-downs the ladies at church had given me—like the blue and white gingham frock I was wearing now.
I looked like Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz.
“Dinner smells good, Jess!” my father continued in his weirdly-friendly tone. “Your mother said you made it.”
I really wanted to ask if he was feeling all right.
Instead, I replied with a cautious, “Yeah… Mama asked me to make chicken and dumplings.”
“You’re in for a treat, Kevin! Jess makes the best chicken and dumplings.”
What the hell is going on?
I decided to retreat to the kitchen before I said something to make my father mad. Usually an easy feat these days.
“Speaking of, I should probably check on dinner.”