But there were others, the ones that were all high and mighty, that definitely didn’t act very godly toward the people that they thought were less than them.
My father was the perfect example of that kind of person. In public, he was sweet and caring, had a ready smile, and kissed babies.
In the privacy of his own home, though?
That man didn’t exist.
And last night, he’d hit me so hard in the stomach with his fist that I’d decided I wasn’t going to try to get along with him anymore.
I’d done enough lying to myself over the years.
My father wasn’t godly. He didn’t practice what he preached.
He didn’t treat all of God’s creatures with care and compassion.
No, he treated my sister and me like shit.
He put on a show like we were one big, happy family in public. Then in private, he’d berate us, tear us down, beat me—though never where it could be seen—and lie to himself and my mother that it was God’s will.
But…I quickly shut all thoughts of my father down.
Instead, I pulled my hoodie off and smiled at the older lady.
She looked sophisticated, as if she’d just come from church.
Though, it was much too early in the morning to be coming from church.
Maybe she was late for it…
“Oh, not a young man at all.”
“Nope.” I smiled. “My hurry is, it’s cold, and I forgot my bigger jacket.”
She eyed me for a long moment then said, “Get inside the supermarket.”
I didn’t see a point in arguing, since it was colder than a witch’s tit outside, so I went inside and instantly groaned.
I both loved and hated Montana.
On one hand, I wanted to leave this place and never look back.
I mean, a snowstorm in mid-May? Of freakin’ course Montana would do that to me.
But on the other, you didn’t get a view of the mountains covered in snow in Texas or Florida.
She pulled out her phone when we got in the store and placed a call.
“We’ll wait here for my driver to arrive.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and contemplated what I should do here.
I mean, there was no way I could consider going home with her.
She was some random stranger I’d literally just met on the sidewalk.
However, the way that all the grocery store clerks greeted her, I knew that she was likely a decent person. If a rich lady like her was nice to people who made minimum wage, then likely she wasn’t a bad person.
Her car arrived while she was still talking to Karen, the lady who had cancer and was still working because she didn’t have enough money to quit.
