Chapter 25
Wes
I’m not a religious man. I don’t believe in some Sky Daddy who controls the universe or anything like that.
I’m not sure I believe in fate or karma, but even I have to admit the seven skips and sinking thing was such a specific, unlikely thing to happen.
I don’t believe in fairies, but it’s almost like a sign from the universe that Elli and I are meant to be, despite all of our differences.
After skipping rocks, we lay on the blanket and just talked about everything. Conversation comes so easily with her, it’s almost scary.
Elli told me more about growing up in Utah, how the winters were brutal but the spring and fall were gorgeous.
How she never really felt like she fit in as a teenager, and was only doing things to please her parents.
She wanted to be a chef, but that wasn’t considered a “good mom career” so she decided to go into human resources.
She was going to go to culinary school, but her parents refused to let her live at home if she didn’t pick a better career choice.
I know my childhood was bad, but Elli’s was rough in a different way.
I always knew who I wanted to be and the expectations for my future may have been low, but I always had support in some form whether it be Jess, or Grandma, or Claudia and Ernie.
Even now, I have Robin, Matt, Sean, Drew, Sav, and the kids that support me.
Elli only has Izzy.
And now me.
I tell her about the first time I ever played in front of an audience at our high school talent show. I was so nervous I threw up backstage. In the end I think I did a pretty good job, though.
I lean in to kiss Elli, right as her stomach grumbles and ruins the romantic moment. She blushes in embarrassment, but I laugh it off and offer to stop and grab food on the way to her apartment. She refuses my offer and says she’d really like to cook for me instead.
I’m not going to turn down a homemade meal, so I agree.
She doesn't let me help her with dinner, but I watch as she easily maneuvers around the kitchen. She seems at home there, and it’s mesmerizing to watch her chop things and cut vegetables so quickly.
When the chicken is cooked, and the noodles are done, she combines the sauce, the chicken, and the noodles all together with a bit of pasta water and puts them on a plate with a slice of french bread slathered in butter.
My mouth waters as she sets the plate in front of me, then joins me at the counter on the other barstool.
I take a bite, and it’s so good I have to refrain from shoveling everything into my mouth like a rabid bear.
“Elli. This is fucking amazing. I have to have the recipe.”
“Thank you. I um, I don’t have a recipe.” She says shyly, shrugging. “I just make it up as I go, usually. I had asparagus and mushrooms that needed to be used.”
Damn. This girl just gets more and more impressive.
After eating the rest of my food, plus another serving, I help Elli clean the dishes.
It’s such a tedious, domestic task, but it’s so fun with her. I flick soap at her and she retaliates by whipping me with the dish towel, all with a beaming grin on her face.
Once those are done, I’m prepared to say goodnight, but she asks if she can talk to me about something. She’s twisting her thumb ring around her finger like she does when she’s nervous, so now I’m nervous.
We sit on the couch, facing each other, and Elli takes a big breath before she says. “I have something to ask you, and I’m not sure if it’s too soon since today was our first official date, or if it’ll scare you away, but-”
I gently shush her by putting my finger to her lips, “Just ask me Elli. It’s going to take a lot to scare me away.”
She takes a deep breath, then, fiddling with my rings instead of hers -which I find fucking adorable- she says, “My little brother, Spencer got his mission call. I’ll explain more about what that is in a minute, but it’s a whole big thing.
My parents are going to call me, probably tomorrow, and ask me if I can come out for it.
I really don’t want to go alone, so I was hoping that maybe…
you would want to come with me? It’s not until August, so that’s, what?
A month? You can say no, obviously. I just…
would really like you to be there with me. ”
Meeting the parents of the person you’re dating is scary enough, but meeting Elli’s parents? That’s extremely terrifying. I’m the polar opposite of the other guys she’s dated. Not to mention, I’m not religious at all. Will they hate me? Will they think I’ve corrupted their good little girl?
Elli must sense my hesitation because she gently squeezes my hands and looks directly into my eyes.
“I know it’s soon. I know you’re probably scared to meet my parents, hell, I’m scared to see my parents.
But their opinion of you doesn’t matter to me, Wes.
I’ve been happier than I’ve ever been since moving here.
You make me happy. You also give me strength.
And I’ll need that to face them. Like I said, you can absolutely say no.
I won’t be upset at you at all. But… if things do get more serious with us, you’ll have to meet them eventually, right?
I figured ripping off the band aid might be the best scenario. ”
I pull her closer so she’s straddling my lap, and I frame her beautiful face with my hands.
“It would be an honor to go with you, Elli. I am super worried that your parents are going to, I don’t know, deny me entry to their house because I look like a devil worshiper, but I want to go.
I want to see where you grew up. And being stuck with you in the car for twenty hours doesn’t seem like the worst fate in the world. ”
She playfully swats my chest, then leans in and gives me a searing kiss. “Thank you Wes. I don’t think you realize what this means to me.”
“Anything for you, baby.”
The words I love you are right on the tip of my tongue. But we literally just had our first date. There’s no way I’m going to say that right now. Even if I feel like it’s true.
God, that’s crazy, right? I’ve barely known her for a month. How can I be in love with her already? I’ve only been in love once, but it didn't feel anything like this.
“Alright, explain what a mission is. I need to be prepared.” I say in faux seriousness.
Elli rolls her eyes, “I don’t think anyone who hasn’t grown up Mormon can be prepared.
But, here goes. You know how some people go on ‘mission trips’ to Haiti or Guatemala to help build houses?
” I nod. “Well it’s kind of like that, but not.
Once a boy turns eighteen he can submit papers to go on a two year long proselytizing mission.
They don’t get to choose where they go, and they don’t get to leave early unless it’s for an extreme medical emergency.
They get transferred to different areas every eight weeks on their mission, but they stay in the general vicinity of a certain city.
For example, Spencer is going to Sao Paulo, Brazil and will have to learn Portuguese.
He doesn’t know Portuguese, so when he goes to the MTC- missionary training center- he’ll be immersed in that language so he can speak with the people. ”
“That sounds kind of cool, to learn a language like that, that fast. You said when boys turn eighteen. What about girls?”
“Girls can’t go until they're nineteen, and they only go for eighteen months. It’s not a requirement for them to go because their job is to get married and pop out babies.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Yeah, it is. Also, missionaries have a strict dress code, strict media restrictions, and strict schedules to follow. In certain places they don’t have to wear the white dress shirts and suits, but for the most part, that’s their attire.
They just changed the rules for girls in some areas so they can wear pants instead of skirts or dresses all the time, but for the most part, they have to be in dresses or skirts. ”
“That seems extremely uncomfortable. I can’t imagine having to wear a skirt in below freezing weather, or a suit in the humid summer heat. What about things like transportation and stuff?”
“Oh, in some areas they get cars. Other areas, they get bikes or they just have to walk. In other countries I guess you can use public transportation if you want, but I don’t know a whole lot about that.
I know in our area, if the missionaries needed a ride, they could call on a ward member.
But there always had to be two people in the car so my dad would always make me go with him.
This isn’t relevant but to stop their companions from masturbating, a lot of the boys have to stand outside of the bathroom door while the other showered, and some mission presidents even required them to sing hymns in the shower to prove they weren’t.
” She shrugs, like it’s such a normal thing to do.
What the hell? What kind of Kool-Aid are the Mormons drinking? After what she told me in her room the day we unpacked, and now this? I’m more confused than ever. I’m convinced this is a cult.
“So, what should I expect for this big farewell thing for Spencer?” I ask, just so I can make sure I’m prepared.
She sighs, “Well, we’ll have to go to sacrament meeting-sorry about that.
It’s an hour-long meeting where they sing, they listen to people talk-Spencer is giving his ‘farewell speech’, and they take the sacrament.
You and I aren’t worthy to take the sacrament so that’ll be a fun topic of conversation with the ballsy family members.
They’ll know why you can’t take it, no offense. ”
“None taken.” I have no issues with how I look. “Will I have to wear a suit? Because I don’t think I own one.” I’d buy one, just for her, if she asked me to.
She gives me a soft smile and runs her hand down my chest, “No, babe. You don’t have to wear a suit. Just a button up shirt and pants with no holes in them. I’ll be in a dress, though.”