Chapter 42
Elli
Ididn’t think that being in a church and having to sit through a sacrament meeting would be so hard, but it was.
The only saving grace was Wes’s confused questioning, which made me see things in a different light.
Sacrament meeting is fucking weird.
I was doing relatively okay, then Spencer started talking about the “trials” our family was going through, and I knew he was talking about me and Izzy.
Izzy looked like she was about to stand and leave when he brought it up.
I had clasped her hand to remind her she’s not alone.
He’s not talking just about her. Though I’m sure she’s received many lectures from both him and our mother lately.
I couldn’t be in there any longer, so as soon as the “amen” was uttered, we were gone.
Now, walking up the walkway of my childhood home, I feel like I’m going to throw up.
The yellow painted, two story farmhouse hasn’t changed much in the last three months, let alone the last three years.
The front door is still a bright teal that matches the curtains in the front room window.
The porch covers the whole front of the house, save for the garage, and above the porch are three windows.
We walk inside and I instruct Wes to remove his shoes. He’s not wearing his usual combat boots or Vans today, and it’s throwing me off. He has on actual dress shoes, and it’s honestly really hot to see him all dressed up.
To our right is the front room which houses a leather couch, a “hot chocolate table” as my family calls it, since Mormons don’t drink coffee, and two leather wingback chairs.
This is where we would have family meetings, family scripture study, and where the family’s assigned visitors from the church would chat with us.
Down the hall we step into the open concept, eat-in kitchen, and the family room.
The family room opens right up into the kitchen so there’s enough space to host big family gatherings like the one happening today.
There’s a kitchen island that’s currently housing three crock pots full of food for the luncheon.
My mom insisted on having a bright white kitchen, even with so many kids. The cabinets are white with stainless steel hardware, there’s stainless steel appliances, and the countertops are white and gray granite.
I personally don’t think it matches the exterior of the house, but I no longer live here so it’s no longer a relevant opinion.
The living room and kitchen is all light gray oak hardwood flooring.
Wes whistles when he sees the kitchen for the first time. “Dang Elli, this place is nice.”
I’m about to protest and say it’s not that nice, as I’ve been taught to do, but I just give him a small smile and say, “Thanks. I wish I could take credit for it, but my mother has full ownership over every decoration and design in this house.”
“She sure takes the phrase ‘go big or go home’ seriously.”
“You could say that. If you want to have a seat, I’m going to make sure the veggies are already cut.”
“No way I’m leaving your side, baby. I’ll help.” Wes says, heading to the big basin sink to wash his hands.
I stand there and blink, a little taken aback by his willingness to help, though it shouldn’t surprise me anymore. I’m just so used to seeing my uncles and father sitting back and letting the women do the work.
After Wes washes his hands, I wash mine, and I rummage through the fridge to find the fresh vegetables for the relish tray.
In a normal situation, I wouldn’t have just come into my mother’s house and started cutting up random shit I found in the fridge, but I already know as soon as they get here, she’s going to be barking orders at me to help her get stuff ready.
There is a chance she’ll be pissed that I already got started, but this isn’t my first rodeo. The same things happen at every farewell luncheon, every baptism luncheon, every homecoming luncheon.
You get the idea.
The base of the luncheon is pulled pork sandwiches, a relish tray, chips, some type of Jell-O salad, and then cookies.
It looks like there’s probably some little smokie sausages in one crock pot, and the pulled pork is in the other two.
Someone’s already dropped off a rainbow Jell-O salad, and there’s fresh fruit on a tray with a yogurt dipping sauce sitting in the fridge.
As Wes and I cut vegetables, he asks me more questions about sacrament meeting. I try to explain as best as I can, but I’ve been trying not to use the cookie cutter answers I’ve been taught my whole life to give.
So when Wes asks me why there were so many prayers, I explain that Mormons believe to start a meeting and feel the spirit, you need to say a prayer.
Each part of the sacrament gets its own prayer, and then to close out the meeting and kind of “cement” the spiritual feelings from the speakers, you have to have a closing prayer.
But the closing prayer cannot be said by a woman for some reason.
“I noticed that there was hardly any woman participation. Is that normal?” He questions.
“Oh, yeah. Women aren’t allowed to have the priesthood, and only priesthood holders can do the blessing of the sacrament or hold a position in the bishopric.”
“So the literal children passing the sacrament have the priesthood?”
“Yep.” I say, shrugging. “When boys are twelve, they get the Aaronic priesthood and are ordained as a ‘Deacon’. At fourteen they become ‘Teachers’ and at sixteen they become ‘Priests.’ Before you can go through the temple as a man, you have to get the Melchizedek priesthood. Melchizedek priesthood also allows them to bless babies and baptize others. If they get called to be bishop, or have a high position in the church they become a High Priest.”
“That’s definitely some cult shit, Elli.”
I can’t help but laugh at that. He’s totally right, it does sound like a cult.
I’m about to respond when the garage door opens and my mom bustles in, tossing her church bag on the counter.
My dad and siblings follow in after and Izzy immediately goes to wash her hands.
She looks like she’s just barely stopped crying and I’m itching to go talk to her.
Spencer, Gideon, and Issac plop down on the couch and start scrolling on their phones and Wes looks at me with a puzzled expression. I subtly shake my head, because if he says anything about it my mom will chew his head clean off his body.
“Elli chop vegetables.” My mom barks.
“Already done, covered, and put back in the fridge.” I say mildly. “What else can I do?”
My mom stomps over to the fridge to make sure I cut them properly, but she must notice that the pickles are missing because she snaps, “You forgot the pickles!”
“I looked in the pantry and the fridge and there weren’t any.” I say as calmly as I can.
“Shelly’s bringing them.”
“Then I’ll cut them when Shelly’s here.” I say, barely containing my eye roll. How am I supposed to cut imaginary pickles?
There really isn’t much else to do until more people show up, so I silently back up so I’m out of her way so she can bang around the kitchen angrily. I bump into a warm body and I already know it’s Wes.
He places a hand on my hip and squeezes gently, assuring me he’s got me.
“Gid, Issac, Spence. This is my boyfriend Wes. Wes, this is Spencer, Gideon, and Issac.”
“Nice to meet you fellas.” Wes says politely, but none of them even spare him a second glance.
I look at Wes and mouth I’m sorry because my brothers are fucking rude. Wes just shakes his head and mouths all good.
Izzy rushes past me, sniffling and heads to her room and Wes nudges me to follow her. I don’t want to leave him alone, so I drag him down the hall and up the stairs with me.
The door to my old bedroom is slightly ajar, and I hear Izzy sniffling harder as I approach. I knock lightly before pushing open the door to find her on the floor with her knees brought up to her chest and her head resting on her arms.
“Iz, what’s going on?” I whisper, letting go of Wes’s hand and sitting next to my sister.
Wes waits in the doorway, taking in everything about the space.
Izzy’s completely taken over the space as her own in the last few months, you’d hardly even know I used to live here.
Her hot pink blankets are all thrown around the room, clothes are littering the floor, the desk she uses as a vanity is covered in beauty products and hair styling tools.
“She-she just said something that hurt my feelings. That’s all. I’m exhausted from theater camp this week, and I’m just overly emotional.” Izzy says, swatting at the tears falling down and streaking her meticulously applied contour.
Wes steps over to the desk, grabs a box of tissues, and hands it to me silently and I mouth thank you, and get a wink in return.
“What did she say?” I ask, hoping Izzy will open up about it. I don’t want her to go through this alone.
“She told me she wishes I was a boy. Her sons haven’t broken her heart and torn apart the family like her ‘spoiled’ daughters have.” Izzy uses air quotes around the word spoiled, because we both know we aren’t.
My heart aches for Izzy. I wish I could do something about it. I can’t say anything to my mom, or I risk her taking out her anger on Izzy when I leave. I can’t steal Izzy away, as much as I want to.
“I’m so sorry Iz. That was really unfair of her to say.” I say, rubbing up and down her arm.
Izzy sighs, then looks over to me. “I wish you didn’t have such a cool life so I could just come live with you the rest of the school year. I know it’s only a year until I’m gone, but I don’t want to walk on eggshells around her.”
“I don’t blame you. I wish there was a way I could help. Why did you tell mom you wanted to leave the church knowing you had to stay with her for another year?”
“She was trying to talk me into getting my patriarchal blessing. I didn’t want to go see that old geezer and have him put his hands on my head for that long so I said no.
She wanted a good reason why I wouldn’t do it, so I told her I no longer believe that the church is true.
She was livid Els. I have never seen her so angry.
So she asked if it had anything to do with our little trip to Texas, if you influenced me to leave, and I told her no, I swear.
I told her you wouldn’t say anything about the church to me, just that you were done with it.
I guess she thinks I’ll just blindly follow you.
But I did my own research, I swear. I spent an entire night going down a rabbit hole on TikTok and checking the facts. ”
“I believe you Iz. I know how overwhelming all the information can be. I’m sorry you’ve had to go through this alone. If I’d been here, or stayed close by-”
“No.” Izzy cuts me off. “I have watched you flourish in Texas, Els. I’ve never seen you as happy as you are there, especially now that you have a hunk of man meat on your arm.”
“Don’t make me tell Luke you said that.” Wes teases with a wink.
“Oh please.” Izzy rolls her eyes. “He knows you’re hot.
But he also knows my love and loyalty are his.
Anyway, I don’t want you to blame yourself.
I should have just kept my mouth shut and gone through the motions until I moved out.
That’s on me. All I need from you is someone to call and cry to on occasion. ”
“You’ve got me, baby sis. I promise. I’ll answer whenever I can.
” I pull her into a hug, just as we hear the front door open and a million different chattering voices fill the living room.
“Alright. Now it’s time to put on our fake smiles and get through this luncheon.
I need your help keeping the aunts away from Wes. ”
“You’ve got it, boss. Operation keep Wes sane is a go.” Izzy salutes me, and we both break out in a fit of giggles.