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She sets the drinks and candy on the wrought iron table that sits between two chairs that are covered in thick outdoor cushions. She rounds the set of chairs and goes to the fire pit sitting a few feet in front of them. She grabs the box of matches, strikes one of the long wooden sticks against the side, and leans in to light the fire.
Once it’s going, we both settle into the chairs and watch the flames for a few minutes.
I’m not even sure what to say first. There are so many thoughts, so many topics, so many questions. But then I start with the one that’s really eating at me.
“Tell me about Pastor Stevens. This whole church thing. And you being the mean girl in high school.”
Again, she doesn’t seem surprised. She lifts her bottle of tea for a sip, then starts.
“My mom came to Emerald when she was twenty-one. She planned to just visit for a weekend or so, but the first night she was in town, she met a guy at the bar. They had a hot one-night stand. She left town two days later and didn’t see him again, until she came back to town to tell him she was pregnant.”
She leans over and grabs a piece of taffy, unwrapping it and putting it in her mouth. She chews for a moment. “He was not excited to see her,” she continues. “He’d wanted just one night partly because he was starting a church here in town. And because he was engaged.”
She swallows. “Obviously a one-night stand with a stranger that ends up with a baby out of wedlock isn’t a great look for a young pastor. Or for a guy who’s engaged to another woman. A woman who, by the way, had been saving herself for marriage.”
My brows rise, but I say nothing. The story is good, I have to admit. Lots of drama already.
“So this young pastor, who is starting a church from the ground up, somehow manages to write my mother a two hundred and fifty thousand dollar check so she can go wherever she wants to. He tells her she can keep the baby. Or not. It was her choice. As long as she leaves town, never comes back, and does not name him on the birth certificate.” She takes another sip of tea. “The thing about one-night stands,” she says, sliding me a look. “Is that you usually don’t really know the other person very well. He had no idea what kind of person my mom was. But he quickly found out. She took his money, bought a house herein town, gave birth to his twin baby girls, and raised them right here, where he’d see them often and everyone would know they were his.”
Wow. I don’t say anything because I have no idea what to say. I also know there’s a lot more to this story. I reach for a piece of taffy, unwrap it, and pop it in my mouth. Before Scarlett came into my life, I had never had salt-water taffy. She’d declared that a travesty. Now it’s one of my favorite things. But I know that’s entirely about the memories it invokes rather than the candy itself.
“Let me guess,” I say. “He denied you were his?”
“Oh no.” Scarlett lets out a laugh that doesn’t sound entirely forced. Almost as if she finds this legitimately funny. “He admitted we were his. Up in front of his whole congregation. Used us as proof that the devil is hard at work all the time and that even the best people can be tempted. But that they can rise up. They can walk away from temptation and go forward with a good life.”
I turn to stare at her. “You’re telling me that he walked away from you and Ruby and your mom and used that as proof that he’s agoodguy? Used it in hisministry?”
She doesn’t look at me, but she nods. “Yup. I’m not sureeveryonebought that my mom was sent by the devil to test him because he was building a church and Satan wanted his downfall, but enough people did. His fiancée did. She married him anyway. And his church continued to grow.” She shifts on her chair as if uncomfortable. “In fact, it worked so well, he continued to use us over the years. He would point to us as an example of his punishment. How even though he’d rejected Satan, he still had to face what he’d done every day and that kept him honest and close to God.”
I can’t believe this. What thefuck? Two little girls and the woman who’d done nothing but fall for his lines and bullshit were hispunishment from God?
“He also always pointed my mom out as an example of why mothers should never want to be single. Why it’s important to have fathers around. Why women need to be responsible and not promiscuous.” She takes a sip of tea.
Again, I have no idea what to say, but this time it is because rage is clogging my throat.
“Then my mom met Brian, my stepdad. She never really let my dad get to her, but I do think she thought he would back off once she and Brian were married. Because according to his preaching, my mom was doing it right getting a man involved.” Scarlett shakes her head.
She’s still not looking at me. Clearly, she’s seeing all of these people—her mom, her stepfather, her dad.
“But my dad actually criticizedBrian. He said other men shouldn’t step in and make things easier. Women who choose to have sex before they’re married have to face the consequences and deserve the struggles of single parenthood as their punishment.”
I sit forward, my heart pounding as anger courses through me. “And there are people in this town who believe this? Who follow him?” My voice is tight.
She looks over at me. “Absolutely. “
“Why?” I demand. “Why would anyone believe any of that bullshit?”
“It makes them feel superior.” Her voice is calm.
I feel like I could put my fist through a wall.
“It makes them feel accepted into a community that tells them they’re better than people who make mistakes and have to struggle. The church is also full of the powerful people in this community. The past two mayors, the past two sheriffs, mostof the city council, a lot of our county government officials, the state legislative representative for this area. Lots of people in power go to that church which gives it legitimacy. At least to some people.”
I shove up from my chair, pacing to the end of the patio and back. “You do know how fucked up that is, right? Your mom was not wrong. She didn’t deserve to be punished for anything.” I stop right in front of her chair. “Neither do you. Neither does my sister. Neither do any of the women who are raising kids on their own.”
She sighs. “Of course I know that, Cian. But you wanted the story. And it gets worse.”
I stare down at her. “Worse?”