Page 48 of Resisting the Temptation (Broken Shelves #3)

Emma

T he next morning, after a fitful night of sleep I’m claiming is due to anxiety from having to see my mother— not because Ben and I didn’t share a bed—I’m getting ready to take Ben to one of my favorite coffee shops when my phone rings.

I groan seeing my mom’s name flash across my phone.

Speak of the devil, and she will appear.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Your cousins are meeting today at two to go over the musical number for the funeral on Friday.”

I roll my eyes. Yeah, I got here safely. No, I only planned to show Ben around today, so I can for sure make it. Thanks for letting me know in advance.

“Okay. At Grandpa’s church?”

“Yes. Are you sure you remember where it is? It’s been a long time since you stepped foot in there.”

“Unless they moved it in the last seven years, I remember.” I barely hold in the sigh that wants to escape .

“Good. Then after, you and your… friend can meet us for dinner. We’re thinking Hughes. They just opened a location in Cottonwood Heights.”

Fantastic.

“I don’t know if Ben will be comfortable with that.” I don’t know if I will be comfortable with it.

Mom gives me a disappointed sigh then tsks.

“Emma, your father and I want to meet the first man you’ve brought home since you moved to California.

We want to be introduced to him before family dinner on Friday—which we expect you and your friend to attend.

It’s only fair we meet a stranger before he’s invited into our home. ”

I flinch at her calling Utah “home.” It hasn’t been home in a long time.

“Fine. What time?”

“Four-thirty. Just remember this isn’t California. You can’t dress like you would there.”

“Got it. See you then. Bye, Mom.” I hang up before she can say anything else.

The one time my parents came to visit me in California was a surprise visit.

It was nine in the morning on a Saturday, and I was wearing a crop top and pajama shorts when they rang the doorbell.

My mom was so mad about what I was wearing when I answered the door, she ranted about it for ten minutes.

Now, every time I’m in Utah, she reminds me I can’t wear a crop top because I will make people “uncomfortable.”

It’s October, though. It’s not like I’m going to be sporting booty shorts and a tube top when the weather is chilly .

“I take it we have a change of plans for today?” Ben asks from his bed.

“Yeah. Apparently, I have to go practice the musical number for the funeral with my cousins at two, then we’re going to dinner with my parents. We’re having a family dinner at my parents’ on Friday after the funeral, too.”

“Sounds good to me. I could do with a homemade meal instead of takeout.”

I can’t help the snort that escapes me. My mom’s a good cook by Mormon white lady standards, but compared to Camila’s food, she doesn’t hold a candle.

Ben’s brows furrow. “Why are you laughing?”

“I can’t wait to see how you feel about my mom’s cooking. Remember what I said about pepper being spicy in my house growing up?”

Ben groans. “I forgot about that. I guess I understand why Mamà’s cooking made you moan the way you did.”

“Oh, Benjamin. You are in for a treat. ”

Luckily for us, the drive from Cottonwood Heights to my grandparents’ church building in Bluffdale isn’t too long.

When I park, I only see two other cars in the parking lot. As Ben and I get out, Talmage’s sisters, Lauren and Lacey, get out of their own car, and Lacey rushes to me with a bright expression on her face.

“Emma! Hi! How are you? You look so pretty.” She looks so similar to Talmage with her dirty blonde hair and big blue eyes.

“Hey, Lacey. Thank you, so do you.” To my surprise, she wraps me in a hug, and I let out a surprised oof.

“Lacey,” Lauren hisses at her sister. “You didn’t even ask.”

Lacey steps back and looks at me sheepishly. “Sorry, Emma.”

I give her a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. This is my… boyfriend, Ben.” I motion to him, and he holds out his hand. “Ben, these are two of my cousins, Lacey and Lauren.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Ben says with a strained smile. I hope he’s okay because he has a long week ahead of him; he has a lot of people to meet.

Lacey’s cheeks flush red as she delicately shakes his hand, tucking her hair behind her ear.

Yeah, girl, I get it. He’s super hot.

Lauren gives him one firm shake and spins around to walk into the building.

We all follow suit.

I haven’t been inside a church building since the summer after I graduated high school, and my skin prickles with anxiety the closer I get.

Do I think God is going to smite me down as soon as I step inside?

No.

But it’s still extremely uncomfortable.

Growing up in the church, I was taught the only places I could truly feel close to God and Jesus were in the temple, at church on Sundays, or in a “Christ-centered home.”

I always wondered why God or Jesus would want to join his followers in a place that feels so…

boring. Before the 2000s, churches had more unique layouts and designs, but now, all the newer buildings look nearly id entical.

From the brick on the outside, to the carpet on the floors—and walls.

From the paintings to the couches, everything looks like a carbon copy of the church down the street.

Temples are much the same, if the new ones I saw along the freeway are any indication. They’re just massive, gaudy buildings that scream, “We have too much money on our hands, so we’re building this structure to get attention.”

It’s hard to believe the same Jesus who trashed the temples in the Bible because people were using it as a market would be okay with the church spending their money on garish places of “worship.”

But what do I know?

When we get to the chapel, my other cousins are already sitting in the choir seats chatting quietly. Lauren climbs the stand, sits down at the piano, and starts arranging the music while Lacey greets our other cousins.

“You can go wait in the car. You don’t have to sit here,” I whisper to Ben.

He grabs my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be fine, honey. Sing pretty for me.” He gives me a wink before gently pressing his lips to the back of my hand, then releases me to go sit down on the first bench on the right-hand side.

Katelynn, Lacey, and Rachel’s eyes are darting from me to Ben rapidly, and I can tell they have questions. Lacey, unlike Rachel and Katelynn, doesn’t look disgusted. She looks like every other sixteen-year-old who’s crazy about love.

I would know, I was like her once .

Lauren clears her throat. “Grandpa wanted this arrangement of Nearer, My God, to Thee . Emma, do you know the lyrics?”

I nearly roll my eyes. People act like because I’m not a member anymore means I’ve forgotten everything drilled into me growing up.

Music has always been a big part of my life.

I learn lyrics faster than I learn math equations, and when you’re singing at least six songs every Sunday, you learn them pretty dang fast. I turned to a lot of the songs I learned for comfort during anxiety attacks and sleepless nights.

I’m a little offended she assumes I’ve forgotten them.

“Yes. I know the lyrics.”

“Great. Let’s run through it and—”

Talmage half jogs, half walks the length of the chapel, doing a double take when he sees Ben.

“Sorry I’m late. I had to finish up some paperwork. Emma! Good to see you.” He wraps me in a hug, then whispers only loudly enough for me to hear, “I’m assuming the scowly man on the bench is yours?”

I nod against him.

“Nice. Well, let’s get started. Kyle, you’re taking bass?”

Kyle nods once.

“Emma and I will be singing soprano then.” Katelynn sighs like it pains her to sing the same part as me.

“And Rachel and I will take alto,” Lacey confirms.

After we all have our sheet music, we gather around the piano and run through it part by part.

We all were—or in Lacey’s case, are—in some sort of choir or music-related extracurricular in high school, which is why we’re the ones tasked with performing at the funeral.

Even though the only singing I tend to do is in the shower now, it’s easy to let the music take over. As soon as we run through it once, muscle memory kicks in, and we’ve got it down in twenty minutes.

I would say no one expects this to be a professional level performance, but Grandpa had a doctorate in music and headed the music department at one of the universities for years, so they kind of do.

We agree to run through the number one more time the day of the funeral, just to be safe, and then everyone packs up and leaves.

Rachel and Katelynn eye Ben warily again, making a point to go out the opposite side of where he’s sitting. I’m sure between the two of them, the whole family will know by the end of the day the black sheep brought a companion to the funeral.