XXVII

I gazed up at the blue spring sky as I sat cross legged in front of my mother’s tombstone. Today was the 2^nd anniversary of her death. If she would have lived eight more days, she would have died on her 34^th birthday. The world seems in chaos right now as the Covid 19 pandemic is affecting the whole earth. The strange thing for myself was that some people are looking to me for answers. A sixteen year old girl.

I’ve been told things like I’m special, gifted, and have deep insights. These compliments actually humble me. But you know the funny thing about humility. The second you think you have it, you lost it. Nonetheless, I feel unworthy of any type of praise. They put a strain on my shy, timid nature. I tend to feel uncomfortable in large groups. My favorite interactions are one on one with another soul that yearns for God. Yet lately I’ve been getting asked to speak at church and at prayer meetings. My dad even suggested the other day that I join him on his podcast.

I like the way some elderly people speak their mind. I was told by an old man in at our church that I was peculiar. It warmed my heart because he was a sweet person that was just trying to tell me he thought I was devoted. An aged woman told me that I’m such a pretty little thing and asked why I tried to look like a boy. True, my auburn hair is cut short and I seldom wear makeup or jewelry. But I almost always wear skirts and dresses, so I didn’t realize some people thought I was trying to look like a boy.

I even have two boys vying for my attention. But unlike most teenage girls, I have little interest in romance. Maybe that’s another reason Mrs. Cromwell thought I was trying to be like a boy. My dad, similar to me, has two women vying for his attention. But he seems only interested in being friends. I have been wanting to interrogate him on his true feelings, but that would only open the door for him to do likewise to me and my suitors. Here comes one of them now. I looked away from him and at my mother’s grave marker.

Brittney C Sallie

Born March 28, 1984            Died March 20, 2018

Mother of Sevenia

I looked at Branch Calloway again and smiled. I think the corner of his mouth might have twitched. As he walked behind me, he tousled my hair as if I were a child. He plopped down next to me, crossing his legs pretzel style like me. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I replied.

“Two years, huh?”

“Yup.”

My two friends that were boys couldn’t be more different. The only thing they had in common was abuse. Branch was physically abused by his father. Jeremy Monroe was sexually abused by an uncle. Other than that they were polar opposites. Jeremy was talkative and sensitive. He is a skinny, uncoordinated computer geek with black hair, dark brown eyes, and carmel colored skin. He is two years older than me and I know him from church.

I know Branch from school. He is currently a senior, while I am a junior. He’s tall with sandy blonde hair, ruggedly handsome, muscular, athletic, and has grey green soul searching eyes. He has this calm, quiet easy way about him. But there sometimes seems to be an underlying danger in his persona. Like he’s patient and under control, but if set off, look out! I’m talking righteous indignation, not bad temper. This aspect of him reminds me of my Uncle Brock.

I guess I should be clear. My Uncle Brock is not technically my uncle. He’s my dad’s cousin and he’s built like some actor known as The Rock. The weird thing is Brock and my dad look more alike than my dad and his own fraternal twin brother.

“What is your life?” I asked, not in the mood for the long silences Branch is capable of.

“It is even a vapor that appears for a little time and vanishes away,” Branch said, finishing the verse from James 4:14, and showing me a rare tooth exposing smile. Yet I noticed his eyes ironically looked exceptionally sad.

“Very good,” I encouraged. “You’ve been studying your Bible.”

He just nodded. It was then that I noticed he had a package sitting next to him wrapped in green and blue paper. I pointed at it. “What’s that?”

“An early birthday present,” he said, picking it up and placing it in my hands.

“You shouldn’t have,” I replied, feeling uncomfortable and not knowing what else to say. Then I thought of a tease. “Why early, did you forget the actual date?”

“No,” he said with a sad smile. “April 12, 2003. Your mom was barely nineteen. Go ahead and open it.”

“It’s the whole Bible on C.D.” I said delightedly.

“I thought it would come in handy with the car your dad just got you.”

“Thank you, it will,” I replied happily. “Why early though?”

He glanced away from me when he answered. “I can’t see you anymore, Sevenia.”

I felt stunned. I valued our friendship. He was currently one of my best friends. I couldn’t  fathom why he would say such a thing. When I replied, I was so taken aback I didn’t even care that my voice squeaked. “But why?”

“Look, Sevenia,” he said quietly as he bowed his head as if ashamed. “I have the utmost respect that you aren’t interested in a, um, romantic relationship. But I am. Not only am I, I can’t stand to be around you anymore without any hope of it. Even if you said maybe, I might hang in there, but…”

“Branch, am I the reason you haven’t gone out with any other girls?”

He looked at me with those sad eyes and nodded.

“But why, I’m so ordinary?”

“You’re anything but ordinary. You’re extraordinary. You’re beyond special and I’m in love with you, Sevenia.”

He’s in love with me! I didn’t understand my feelings. I just knew I couldn’t lose him. I cherished the long walks we went on. I loved his quiet strength as we sat and watched sunsets. I loved it when he texted me goodnight. Before I got up and ran, I kissed him quickly on the cheek and blurted. “Maybe.”

Maybe a kiss on the cheek doesn’t seem like a big deal to you. But Branch and I had never even held hands or embraced each other. Jeremy and I had hugged numerous times, but I had never kissed him at all. Was one more intimate than the other? I wondered this as I raced away from the cemetery. I also couldn’t fathom what I was feeling. Was it wrong? As I always did in trying times, I prayed.

My brain reeled as I climbed out of the little red Ford focus my dad had given me the previous week. I walked onto the back porch of the place I had lived for the first two months when I first came to Iowa. I saw Destiny Knight Storm through the back door. It looked like she was making a pie. I knew my dad was off with Brock getting groceries for some elderly folks. I couldn’t be more thankful that we would be alone. I had kept my swirling emotions in check until her pretty, loving face looked at me. I began to sniff and snuffle. The more I tried to stop, the stronger it came on until I was just plain crying.

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” Dee asked as she pulled me inside. We sat at the kitchen table of the old, but refurbished farmhouse. I told her everything.

“Sweetie, I understand that up to this point you had no interest in romance. But people change, especially when they are young.”

“But he’s not fully a believer yet,” I said.

“A couple keys,” Destiny said with a sly smile. “Yet and maybe. You didn’t tell him you would be his girlfriend, you said maybe. But keep this in mind. I know you believe in fellowship, truth?”

“True.”

“The spiritual fellowship my husband and I have together can’t even compare to any of my sisters in Christ.  And you know how much I love and value them.”

“I do,” I replied, nodding emphatically. The couples I saw at Cotton Creek Cove were amazing! Maybe that was why I was toying with my thinking and feelings of be asexual. “But what about Jeremy? He’s let it be known that he’s been interested in me too. I don’t want to hurt him by choosing Branch.”

“Is Branch your preference?”

“It’s complicated. When I first moved here with Dad two years ago, I met both guys at the same time. But Branch and me met at school, and our friendship grew slowly and has gained momentum. Jeremy and me met at church, and our friendship was just spiritual and strong right away, but then slowly dwindled. Now he’s at college, and every time I talk to him I can tell he’s being affected by the world and the culture on campus.”

I put my face in my hands and groaned. “How has this happened? I’m not one of those girls vying for a guy’s attention. Why couldn’t Branch and Jeremy just have focused on those girls and left me to myself and my spiritual pursuits.”

“Life can be funny that way,” Destiny giggled. “Speaking of complicated romance situations. What’s going on with your father?”

“Whatever do you mean?” I asked, tongue in cheek and we both laughed.

“I mean whenever I ask him about Zella LaStella and Salena from Minnesota, he just shrugs and says they are both just friends. Is that all there is to it?”

“I really don’t know,” I replied. It really was strange. My dad’s situation seemed to be similar to mine. He appeared indifferent to romance. Yet both women mentioned, of whom I both adore, have asked me in subtle ways where my father’s affections laid. As I am open with Branch and Jeremy about our friendships, my dad is open about his friendships with the two, seemingly, opposing women. As with Dee just now, I had to tell both women I really didn’t know.

But the bringing up of my father made me realize I needed to flee before he returned with Brock. He would ask me why I was there and I obviously could not tell a lie. I told Dee why I needed to leave post haste. She laughed, hugged me, and quickly ushered me to the door. She opened it as her overly muscular husband was reaching for the door handle.

“Hi, ya all,” Brock said with a grin and an exaggerated southern accent. He then grabbed me and gave me a quick tight hug.

My dad followed in right behind Brock and grinned happily at me. “Hey sweet pea, what are you doing here?”