This story is an entry in the Summer Lovin 2019 contest. Please vote. Thanks and enjoy!
No one has to tell me how badly I fucked up. On the second night home of my summer vacation from university, I go to a house party with my best friend in high school, Darby, get wasted, and throw up on my front yard where my mom finds me curled up asleep at 6:30 in the morning. Though I'm a nineteen year old woman, my parents pulled the, "Your mother and I are so disappointed in you, Hannah" and "you live in our house, you'll abide by our rules." So here I am, sitting on this hard-ass pew in New Hope Fellowship Church, paying for my partying ways.
For the past four Sundays, I've collected my grandmother from her house outside of our Podunk little town of Dillon Spurs, Texas at 9 am to take her to church services at this 90 year old white clapboard country church off Rural Route 22 in the middle of green rolling hills. I'm to do so until I return to college to start my sophomore year at the University of Texas in Austin. Dressed in a prim floral dress, my straight caramel colored hair parted down the middle and drawn back into a low ponytail, I count the minutes until I'm free from these boring sermons. My vibrating phone got my attention. Easing it from my purse and keeping low on my lap beneath the church flyer, I retrieved the text message. Derek Tennison! The guy who took my virginity.
Heard u were in town
N church TTYL
His response: three laughing crying emojis in a row.
A sinewy liver-spotted hand slapped mine. I looked up to see my grandmother's priggish face glaring at me. I slipped the phone back into my purse and looked up to gaze at Pastor John lecturing from the pulpit. He's a good minister; not a loud, Bible thumping hell and brimstone preacher full of fury. His sermons are of tolerance and kindness and the hope of self-betterment for his flock and the community.
Pastor John closed his binder and said, "And now a word from our young adults' minister. Bryson."
He stepped down from the pulpit to allow Bryson to step up. Bryson Gerlich. In school, he made it perfectly clear that he was intending to remain 'pure', a virgin until marriage. Shame. He has boy band good looks. Conservative styled chestnut hair, blue eyes, his lithe body is always dressed in perfectly ironed clothes. He is a hottie.
"Good morning, all," he said with a sweet slow and measured Texas twang. "I want to let all of the young people know that your body is a temple and God wants you to treat it as such. It is the greatest gift not to be given lightly. Show reverence to it, save it for that one special true love. Don't disgrace it with tight shirts and booty shirts."
Like some others kids, I snickered, drawing my grandmother's disapproving eye once more. My smile quickly dropped from my face and I looked down at my lap, trying hard to suppress the laughter bubbling inside.
He continued on about reverence and virginity and finished with, "So, live your life for God. He loves you. Thank you and have a blessed day."
He stepped down allowing Pastor John to return.
"Thank you, Bryson. And remember, Bryson is always available for the young people to talk to on any subject and don't forget to attend the young adult meetings on Thursday nights at 7 pm in the Elders' Room. Blessings to you all and remember, do something nice for someone this week. But for the grace of God go you. Amen."
"Amen."
The organist started playing and I stood with the congregation to sing the last hymn of the morning services. Afterwards, we filed from the old country church, shaking the pastor's hand as we left.
My grandmother smiled at Pastor John and said, "As always, I found your sermon inspirational."
"I'm glad." He turned to me and said, "It's nice to see you, Hannah. You really should come to Bryson's Thursday night session. It's not just Bible study but a chance to really talk about the issues and temptations you young people face every day."
"I'll think about it."
I can think of about a hundred other things I'd rather do.
I opened the passenger door of my mother's Cadillac for my grandmother, closing it after she was seated, then climbed into the driver's side to start the engine and drive off. Down the two lane country road we travelled, passing under heavy tree boughs and cow dotted pastures behind barb wire fences, to my grandmother's farm. Five miles later, I turned onto the familiar red clay road leading to my grandmother's house. Once she was on the porch, she waved at me before letting herself into her house. In the distance, I could see my grandfather on his tractor coming in from dropping off hay for cattle somewhere on the back acres. I stepped out the car to wave at him. He waved back, happy that I was home to relieve him of the duty of escorting his wife to church. It was only 11:30 and the day was already unbearably hot. I returned to the air conditioned car and pulled out my phone to text Derek.
He texted
I wanna see u. meet me at the lake house
See you in an hour
Cool.
I started the car and drove off heading straight for Dillon Spurs' only mall. Once there, I bought a pair of denim cut-off shorts and a white tank top. Stepping into a bathroom, I stripped off my dress, slipped into my country vixen clothes before releasing my hair from its hair clip. I flipped my head down and up several times until my hair fluffed over my shoulders. I applied more make-up on my eyes to bring out their slate color and applied soft pink gloss to my lips. When I finished, I stood before the mirror. Long tanned legs, short shorts, perky boobs, pink lips and tossed hair. I smiled and said, "Country girl realness is back."
With my dress bundled in the shopping bag, I left the mall, calling my mom as I walked down an aisle of the busy parking lot.
"Mom, hi. I'm going to meet Kimber at the mall," I said, referencing my high school friend that she likes. "We're going to hang out, get a smoothie, you know, catch up and all. I'll be home before dinner."
"Okay, honey. Have fun."
Out of the parking lot I drove, heading back to the countryside. After a fifteen minute drive down a country lane, I stopped at the gate blocking the road down to the Tennison's lake property and got out to push open the unlocked cattle gate. Driving in, I closed it again before driving down the gravel road to Derek's family's place, a mobile home set beside a lake on ten acres of land. I parked beside Derek's Jeep and got out of the car. I could see him sitting on their dock drinking a beer. Dressed in khaki board shorts and a tight navy blue t-shirt, he's a big, corn fed dude with crewcut hair, steely grey eyes and lopsided smirk. Muscular from years of restocking feed at his father's hardware and feed store, he was a linebacker on our high school's football team. God, I remember how wide my legs had to stretch to accommodate his beefy body on mine when we had sex on a baseball diamond after a high school graduation party.
"Hey, Bubba," I called out, easing my way down the dirt path leading to the dock.
He glanced back at me and smiled.
"Hey, slim," he replied as I took a seat beside him to look out over the murky green lake.
"Want a beer?" he asked.
"Sure."
He popped a can from the six pack and handed me the chilled can. I took it and popped it open to drink. It felt good to be out here in the quiet country. The droning buzz of cicadas and water slapping against the dock's pilings broke the silence of the humid air.
"How've you been?" he asked. "How's city life treating you?"