Chapter Text
Growing up with a mom who was raised in the 70s meant living life a little differently than most my age. She was apprehensive of technology, strict on grades, and overly trusting at times, but despite her quirks, she was still my mom and I loved her for it. Although sometimes we tend to bicker over the stupid stuff in life, when it comes down to it, I know she loves me too. And I've got to say, for me being a 17 year old girl, her interests have rubbed off on me more than I'd like to admit. Over the years, shes taught me how to sew, bake, drive, and tons of other useless skills, but most of all, the thing I appreciate most about her is her love for music. I still remember the night drives on our way home from visiting my grandparents upstate like it was yesterday. The radio would be blasting bands like The Eagles and Commodores with her singing her heart out in the drivers seat (usually off-key) with the windows rolled down and summer breeze blowing through my hair. If I close my eyes I can almost picture the scene to a t. She always told me she loved the Commodores because their lyrics were "relatable" but sometimes I think she may have been misinterpreting them a bit. After all, second to my alarm clock, the last thing I want to hear ringing throughout the house at 7 A.M is Lionel Richie singing "I'm easy like a Sunday morning" because is really anything easy about an early Sunday morning?
Coming to my senses, I roll over and duck my head beneath my pillow as my alarm clock begins assaulting my ears with its presence.
How I wish Sunday mornings were easy.
Turning off my alarm in one swift motion, I glance at the frame which reads "7:00". If there's one thing I hated more than my stupid alarm clock, it was definitely getting out of bed. It's not that I hated going to church with my family or anything, in fact I actually enjoyed it, but does service really have to start at nine in the morning?!
I reluctantly roll out of bed and decide to get ready. After finishing my hair and makeup, I throw on a dusty blue sundress and head downstairs to see my mom standing beside the fridge humming the melody of Lionel Richie's sweet lyrics.
"Wow I didn't think she'd ever get up! Decided to grace us with your presence after all?"
Jokingly rolling my eyes to her sarcastic comment I replied, "Yeah well I suddenly remembered you guys can't live without me so I guess I had a change of heart."
"Aww how thoughtful." Her cheery tone lingered on my ears for a moment before she continued, "There's a piece of toast left on the counter if you want it, I had made some for Andy before he decided to rush over to the neighbors house for God knows whatever reason."
"Again?"
"Mmhmm"
My little brother Andy was always spending time over at our neighbors house cause he was friends with the kid who lives there. His name was Rowley, I think? I'm not entirely sure but whoever that kid is I feel sorry for him because his parents are totally weird. I mean I've been called sheltered before but this was a whole new level. He rides a pink glittery bike with tassels on the handles to SCHOOL for goodness sake. But Andy doesn't have many friends so as long as he has someone to keep him company my mouth stays shut.
After a quick bite of soggy toast I hear a beep coming from the driveway, assuming our ride is here. Usually, my mom would drive us but since our car broke down last week we've been catching rides with the weird neighbors until we can get it back, hopefully as soon as possible. The drive to church was long, stuffy, and awkward. I've never seen anybody drive in total complete silence until this Rowley kids' father. Sometimes I wonder if he's a psychopath or just socially awkward, but I'm leaning towards the latter.
An excruciatingly long 15 minutes later, we arrive at the chapel among the crowds of everyone in their Sunday best. Exiting the car, I look to my left to see a young couple and their newborn baby walking across the sidewalk. The baby's head was adorned with the most delicate purple flower headband and she had the brightest smile on her face. I didn't even notice that I too, was smiling, until I caught sight of the absolute mess happening in the distance, my face quickly turning sour.
Behind the laughing baby stood a family of five, seemingly normal until you look close enough to see what appears to be a dad spanking or rubbing his sons behind with some sort of cloth. All while the mom is shaking her head in disappointment and the youngest laughing at their torture.
"What the hell is going on over there?" I thought to myself. Before I could even gather enough sense to look away, a tall figure appeared from behind the crowds of moving people, catching my eye. He stood proud with a look of satisfaction on his face, dressed in a blue and white striped button up shirt, slacks, and a navy tie fastened loosely around his neck. Leaning against the family's white SUV, he turned his face away to hide his bubbling reaction, meeting my eyes. I feel my cheeks growing hot as I quickly turn around and start beelining for the door out of embarrassment.
Who could that be? I don't think I've seen him before in my entire life, yet he somehow looked familiar? Have they always gone to this church? Are they new? Does he go to my school?!
Before I could lose the rest of my sanity to my racing thoughts, I felt a hand on my shoulder leading me to the pew where we usually sit. Hopefully today's service would be enough to distract my mind from whatever I'm so worried about. I mean really, I couldn't even see his eye color from that distance, so there's no way he noticed me staring at him.
The typical morning worship music begins to play as I calm myself down and focus my thoughts. I'm not here for some lame guy! But regardless, as him and his family made their way down the aisle I found my eyes wandering with them. The middle boy was now wearing what I think was his mom's pink sweater wrapped around his waist and shuffling behind his father in a weird pattern. Everyone looked so stiff it was painful to watch, but I know I've had a bad Sunday morning or two, so I try to subvert my gaze until the boy trips and nearly falls right next to me. His face takes on an expression of shame as his mother ushers them to keep moving. It wasn't until he nearly trips and falls again that I notice it's by the doing of his older brother, the boy in the striped shirt. His foot sneakily catches the fabric of the pink sweater dragging across the floor until it comes completely undone and falls, leaving the boy exposed. In a matter of seconds the whole building goes into an uproar about the stain on the kids pants as he (unsuccessfully) attempts to defend himself.
"N-no it's not what you think, it's chocolate, see!"
"Ewws" and "Oohs" spew from the pews as the kid football tackles his brother and shoves him onto the ground to the left of my feet. His arm catches the fabric of my dress for a moment before my mom quickly pulls me back by my shoulders, watching the unruly scene unfold before our eyes.
"Guys enough! Enough!"
The poor mother tries to get their fighting under control but it's no use as the kid manages to land a punch right on the brothers nose, blood spewing from his nostrils until the dad breaks them apart and drags them out the door by their arms. As they reluctantly head out the door, I hear Rowley mutter from behind me.
"Greg?"
Greg? Is that the kids name? I think I've heard Andy mention that name before but how have I never noticed these people?
In an attempt to start service after that disrupting debacle, the pastor enters the stage and encourages everyone to settle down and at least attempt to have a normal Sunday sermon, but how could you after a sight like that? If I was ever so sure about one thing in life right now, it's that Sunday mornings are most certainly anything but "easy".