Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
TINA TURNER, “WHAT’S LOVE GOT TO DO WITH IT”
“We have to talk,” I said, pulling Heather to the side of the church the second she stepped out of her parents’ car. “I tried calling you a million times last night.”
“Whoa! What’s going on?” She fumbled her Bible onto the ground, so she pulled away from my grip to pick it up. “Sorry. My mom was talking on the phone to her sister like forever .”
“It doesn’t matter.” I huffed. “Something big happened.”
“With Mr. Cory?” She dusted off her Bible and followed me to the side of the church, where gates led to an old graveyard.
“With Isaac.” I turned, surveying the area for anyone else.
“How big?” She inspected me with wide eyes.
I didn’t hold back. I vomited every detail from the night he took me home after the rodeo to the orgasm I had in the barn and the kiss goodnight at the end of my drive.
Heather didn’t move.
And honestly, I was still in shock.
“Say something. I’m a terrible person, right? I’m going to Hell. Are you mad? Will Matt hate me? My parents will disown me. Just say it.”
“Uh …” Heather slowly shook her head. “I don’t know what to say. I’m not mad. You’re not a terrible person. You could go to Hell. We’ll have to ask your dad. But Matt will hate you. Your parents won’t disown you, but they might make you feel like a failure and a complete disgrace to them and God.”
I wrung my hands together, face scrunched. “I’m not telling anyone. Not now. Maybe not ever.”
Heather laughed. “So you’re going to marry Matt and mess around with Isaac on the side.”
“I’m not marrying Matt. I just need to get through the summer, and then we’ll go our separate ways. Wesley and Violet can’t get mad at my family if we mutually drift apart, right?”
Heather pressed her lips together and shook her head a half dozen times. “No. I mean, I don’t know. Oh my gosh, why did you let it go that far? It’s his brother ! He got you off!”
I wrinkled my nose and bit my thumbnail. “I did it to myself.”
Heather covered her mouth and snickered. “You’re not that naive, are you?”
I didn’t want to relinquish a smile, but I couldn’t help it. “I’m not naive. I’m …”
“In denial?”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. I’m a little in denial, like on the edge of it, where accountability is optional. But Heather”—I pressed my lips together and took a moment—“I like him. I like how I feel when I’m with him. Music owns my heart. And when we play music in the barn, I feel like he’s starting to own a little piece of my heart, too.”
Heather’s eyebrows jumped up her head. “You love him?”
“No, I’m not saying that.” I wasn’t sure what I was trying to say because Isaac made me feel something new and unfamiliar, something undefinable. “I’m just saying I like who I get to be when I’m with him.”
She squinted. “And who is that?”
I lifted a shoulder. “Myself.”
Something akin to realization stole her face. “This is awesome. Disastrous but awesome. Let’s go.” Heather giggled, grabbing my wrist and pulling me toward the back of the church. “Maybe we can sneak in and get our robes, and your dad will think we’ve been here all along.”
“Fingers crossed,” I said, opening the door.
We were in luck, my dad wasn’t in his office, and several other choir members were retrieving their robes from the closet.
“Is Matt still sick?” Heather whispered as we took our seats in the choir.
I glanced at Matt’s parents and Isaac while leaning into Heather. “Apparently. I called to check on him last night, and he was still pretty miserable. I think it’s a stomach bug, not food poisoning, because I’m fine, and we ate the same thing.”
Dad welcomed everyone and said a prayer, and then the choir led the congregation in several hymns. For the next forty-five minutes, I tuned out my dad’s sermon and sneaked peeks at Isaac, who was looking at me the whole time with a mischievous grin.
“Those are some serious bedroom eyes,” Heather whispered, nudging my leg.
I bit my lip and bowed my head, pretending to follow along in my Bible.
“We’re in Leviticus, not Deuteronomy,” Heather mumbled under her breath.
I flipped to Leviticus, barely registering my dad preaching about apologizing for not being enough and the importance of repentance. In hindsight, I probably should have listened better.
After church, I exited with my parents and sisters, and everyone scattered in the churchyard to chat, make afternoon plans, and catch up from the week.
I stayed nestled to my mom’s side like the perfect duckling so Isaac didn’t approach me. But that didn’t stop his parents from finding us, which meant he was with them.
“Matthew is sick today. I’m sure Sarah mentioned it,” Vi said.
Mom eyed me. “No. Actually, she didn’t.”
I cleared my throat, trying not to look at Isaac, but it was hard. “Yeah. We went to dinner, and then he wasn’t feeling well.”
“You were home kind of late for dinner,” Dad said, casting a hard glance in my direction.
Again, I cleared my throat, clasping my hands at my back. “We left the movie early when his stomach was feeling funny.”
“What movie did you see?” Vi asked, but she wasn’t testing me. She had no reason to think I was lying .
I racked my brain to remember what movies were playing at the drive-in.
“Matty said you saw D.A.R.Y.L.,” Isaac said.
I nodded enthusiastically. “Yes. We did. Well, we saw part of it.”
Isaac rubbed his lips together to hide his smile when I looked at him.
“PG?” Dad asked.
I didn’t know. “Yeah,” I said. “It seemed PG. I mean, we’re eighteen, so I guess nobody asked. But there wasn’t any bad language or other things.”
Other things like sex, which I’d had with Matt, and sexual things I had done with his brother. And just the thought of that made my stomach feel uneasy. Or maybe I was coming down with a stomach bug or just a severe case of guilt.
“Anyway,” Vi said, “we don’t have to come over for lunch.”
“No. You should still come,” Mom insisted.
I had no clue that my mom had invited the Corys for lunch. But then I thought about the roast in the crock pot and the extra pies on the counter, and it all made sense.
“I’ll send leftovers home for Matt,” Mom added.
“Then we’d love to. We need to go home first to get my cucumber salad out of the fridge, and I’ll check on Matthew. We can be there in about forty-five minutes,” Vi replied while tucking her purse under her arm.
I shifted my attention to Mr. Cory, but he was glancing over my dad’s shoulder, so I turned to follow his gaze. Brenda Swensen peered in our direction, and that’s when it registered that Wesley was looking at her, and she was looking at him .
Brenda Swensen and her long, dark, curly hair.
I held my breath while surveying everyone around us. Was I the only one seeing them? When my gaze snagged on Isaac’s, he narrowed his eyes. I looked down, afraid to make eye contact with anyone.
Afraid someone would see what I was seeing.
Brenda Swensen was the mystery mistress.
That was the voice I couldn’t quite place.
Brenda worked as a waitress at Cosmic Cafe. She was twenty-one. Her dad owned the local sanitation company, and her mom taught third grade. She had a brother who was a freshman at the high school.
Many people thought it was weird that she didn’t go straight to college. She was smart, and her family had enough money to pay for her schooling.
“Want to go swimming at Laura’s?” Heather asked, grabbing my shoulders from behind and startling me.
“Oh …” I whipped around.
“We’re having lunch with the Corys,” my mom answered for me.
Heather eyed me, and then she shot her gaze to Isaac for a second and smirked.
“I’ll call you after lunch,” I said, taking her hand and pulling her toward the parking lot. “Don’t look, but I know who was in bed with Mr. Cory.”
Heather glanced around.
“I said don’t look!” I let go of her hand and linked arms with her, plastering on a fake smile as we passed people milling around, making their way to the parking lot.
“Is she here? Who is she? Is she married too? Tell me!”
I felt sick to my stomach. She was twenty-one. Mr. Cory was fifty-two. What was wrong with her? And him? He had a family. A reputation in the community.
Heather stopped me. “Sarah, who is it?”
My grimace felt permanent. I would never look at him the same way. It shouldn’t have mattered who. Adultery was adultery. But the age difference made it exponentially worse.
“Brenda Swensen.”
Heather blinked several times before shaking her head. “No way. She’s twenty-one.”
“It’s her.”
“No.” She continued to shake her head.
I didn’t blame her because I didn’t want to believe it either. I wanted to be wrong. But I wasn’t.
“You said you didn’t see her face.”
“I heard her voice. It was familiar. I just couldn’t place it. But when I saw him looking at her, it all came together. The hair. The voice. It was her.”
“Gross. No. Sarah, you have to be wrong.”
“I’m not wrong. And they were looking at each other.”
“So what? Maybe he forgot to leave a tip and seeing her reminded him, and maybe she was scowling at him for being cheap.”
I frowned. “Stop. That’s not it. I wish it were. I’m one hundred percent sure about this.”
Heather’s face mirrored mine. “What are you going to do?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?” Her head jutted forward as her jaw unhinged.
“There’s nothing I can do. I told you I can’t be the one to expose his indiscretions. My family has too much to lose.”
“But she’s only twenty-one,” Heather argued .
I shrugged. “An adult.”
Heather rolled her eyes. “Barely.”
“Legal.”
She sighed. “We have to do something. ”
I shook my head. “ We don’t.” I smiled at my family as they headed toward me. “I’ll call you later,” I said to Heather through my fake smile.
“Okay.” She pivoted and gave my family a wave before heading toward her parents’ car.
“Erin’s coming to lunch,” Mom said. “So you’re riding with the Corys. They're going to their house first. Maybe you can check in on Matt too.”
I nodded, but I wasn’t focused on what she said because my gaze stuck to Mr. Cory walking his wife to their blue Cadillac Seville while turning his head one last time to look at Brenda Swensen. My attention shifted to Isaac as I headed toward their car. He did a good job of keeping a neutral face while opening the back door for me.
“Look at the nice boy I raised,” Violet said.
Wesley eyed his son’s chivalrous act and offered a half grin which made me think he wasn’t as convinced.
“Thank you,” I murmured, making eye contact with Isaac just as I slid into the back seat.
“Set this back there,” Wesley said, handing me his suit jacket as Isaac sat behind him.
I set the folded jacket in the middle seat.
“I hope Matthew’s feeling better,” Violet said.
Wesley responded with a long spiel about his son needing to take better care of himself because the baseball team was counting on him.
Isaac and I didn’t exchange a word. I stared out my window while thoughts of the torrid affair replayed on a long loop. I stiffened for a second when Isaac’s hand touched my leg. He had it under his dad’s jacket.
I inspected his parents before sliding my gaze to him, but he didn’t look at me. He looked straight ahead, face neutral like a soldier at attention. I tucked my hand beneath the jacket too, and Isaac interlaced his fingers with mine. Heat spread along my skin. I liked how little my hand felt in his. The rough callouses. The warmth.
The allure of the forbidden.
Was that it?
Was that why Mr. Cory had an affair?
I knew most of the lessons from the Bible. And sin always seemed to accompany temptation.
When desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin.
Was I any different than Mr. Cory?
Sure, I wasn’t married to Matt, but we were together. And I was holding his brother’s hand in secrecy. Isaac had touched me intimately, and I had let him.
My thoughts were impure.
I was a sinner.
But … we were all sinners. Right?
For everyone has sinned; we all fall short of God’s glorious standard.
The Bible also said that through Christ Jesus, God freed us from the penalty of our sins.
Was I twisting God’s words? Maybe.
But wasn’t that basically what all religions did? Came up with their own interpretations of the Bible to suit their lives—to condemn those they wanted to condemn and condone the acts they valued?
Isaac released my hand when we pulled into their drive.
“Isaac, why don't you and Sarah check on your brother while your father and I feed the cats and grab the salad,” Violet suggested.
I didn’t wait for Isaac to open my door. Instead, I hightailed it toward their porch, deposited my shoes at the entry, and tiptoed up the stairs.
Matt’s door was cracked open, and he was curled up in bed with his back to me. The floor creaked when I stepped into his room.
I hated creaky floors.
Matt rolled in my direction. “Sarah,” he whispered. “Don’t come too close.”
I stopped halfway to the bed and opened my mouth to speak, but Isaac appeared behind me, spewing his less-than-sympathetic words first.
“Are you going to die?” he asked.
“I wish,” Matt mumbled. He was pale, his voice weak, and his eyelids barely opened.
“We’re going to Sarah’s house for lunch. Do you need anything?” Isaac asked.
“No,” Matt whispered.
“Feel better, okay?” I said to Matt.
He grunted, “I’m trying.”
I frowned, wishing there was more that I could do, but Isaac pinched my dress at the back of my waist and gave it a little tug, so I turned and followed him out of the room, closing Matt’s door behind me.
I stepped toward the stairs, but Isaac wrapped his hand around my wrist and pulled me into his room so quickly that I gasped.
“What are you?—”
He hid us behind the door and kissed me with his hands cupping my head and his tongue sliding against mine. I grabbed his forearms to steady myself. When he released my mouth, it was only for a breath before he kissed me again.
I liked kissing my boyfriend’s brother.
I liked his hands on my face.
I liked the confidence with which he kissed me.
I liked how my thoughts vanished, and that voice of common sense was silenced.
Again, he released my mouth, and he stared at me with those intense dark eyes while the pad of his thumb traced my bottom lip. He held my gaze as though it were his hostage as his hands unbuttoned the top of my blue sundress. Just three buttons.
Isaac dipped his head like he’d done at the rodeo and kissed the swell of my breast where his name had been.
I swallowed hard to suppress a moan.
Matt was in the other room—less than twenty feet away.
His parents were downstairs.
This is SO wrong …
But I couldn’t utter a single word in protest, not when he went a step further than he’d gone before, sliding the cup of my bra out of his way and sucking my nipple into his hot mouth.
Oh god … I mean gosh … darn … FUCK!
It felt incredible.
If the rest of his family couldn’t hear my heart thundering in my chest, then they were deaf. I brushed a hand along his head, curling my fingers, but his hair was too short. I couldn’t pull him away, but I really didn’t want to because it. Felt. Too. Good.
It felt good everywhere.
We were going to get caught. Isaac was taking his sweet time, and I didn’t want him to stop, but I also didn’t want my life to implode that way.
As if he read my thoughts, Isaac adjusted my bra and buttoned my blouse. “You’re blushing, Sunday Morning,” he whispered.
I scowled at him. Was he trying to get me in trouble?
Isaac planted his face next to mine, lips at my ear. “I love seeing you flushed, breathless, and I imagine … wet. ” He gathered the skirt of my dress in his hands and slid his middle finger along the crotch of my underwear on the outside.
Yes, I was wet there.
“Fuck …” He groaned, dropping his forehead to my shoulder.
My knees trembled as the pad of his finger made tiny circles.
He needed to stop. Where was my voice? Why couldn’t I tell him to stop?
After all, I didn’t like sex. Did Isaac want to be with someone who liked everything except sex? Surely intercourse was his goal.
I bit my lips together to prevent myself from making noise, but my breaths quickened to the point that breathing through my nose made too much noise.
“Stop tempting me,” he whispered.
His hand disappeared as quickly as he did. And I was left adjusting my dress and composing myself. I darted into the bathroom and splashed cold water on my cheeks.
When I made it down the stairs, Violet was putting on her heels at the door. “How’s Matt? Do I need to check on him too? ”
“Uh,” I tucked my chin and slid on my flats, “no. He’s really tired but still not feeling well.”
“Then we’ll let him rest. Come on, dear. Isaac and Wesley are already in the car.”
“Okay,” I nearly choked on that one word.
Satan had a hold on me, and I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t wait for the next close encounter.
The next thrill.
The next risk.
It was a glorious drug.