I felt my forehead wrinkle when I asked, “Why not?”
“Because it gives a bad impression!”
I wanted to ask her why Mr. Roberts would care about what I wore to dinner. He was her and Papa’s friend—not mine. Besides, his daughters were close to my age, I’m sure they didn’t dress up for dinner every night.
“I can eat in the kitchen,” I offered.
“Absolutely not! You’ll eat with us, and you’ll wear a dress and look nice. End of discussion.”
Okay, then…
~~~~
When I came back downstairs, Papa and Mr. Roberts were talking in the living room, drinking glasses of lemonade.
Papa normally had a beer when he came home from his job at the lithium mine. But since drinking alcohol was frowned upon by church leaders, I wasn’t surprised to find him not imbibing in his normal Bud Light.
“Here she is!” Papa said with a bright smile when I walked in the room.
I did a double take.
Is he greetingmein such a friendly manner?
I glanced over my shoulder to make sure Mama hadn’t walked in with the baby in her arms.
Papa continued, “Jess, you remember Elder Roberts?”
Mr. Roberts stood up and extended his hand. I took it as I replied to my father, “Yes, of course. He’s Mindy and Melanie’s dad.”
“Good to see you, Jessica,” Mr. Roberts said as he released my hand and sat back down on the couch. “You look beautiful.”
I glanced down at my feet on the carpet and murmured, “Thank you.”
I certainly didn’tfeelbeautiful. With the exception of the outfit I’d worn today, none of my old clothes fit. So, I was relegated to either yoga pants and t-shirts, or the hand-me-downs the ladies at church had given me—like the blue and white gingham frock I was wearing now.
I looked like Dorothy fromThe Wizard of Oz.
“Dinner smells good, Jess!” my father continued in his weirdly-friendly tone. “Your mother said you made it.”
I really wanted to ask if he was feeling all right.
Instead, I replied with a cautious, “Yeah… Mama asked me to make chicken and dumplings.”
“You’re in for a treat, Kevin! Jess makes the best chicken and dumplings.”
What the hell is going on?
I decided to retreat to the kitchen before I said something to make my father mad. Usually an easy feat these days.
“Speaking of, I should probably check on dinner.”
Chapter Six
Jessica
We were seated in the dining room with Papa in his usual spot at the head of the table and Mama to his immediate right. Normally, I sat to his left, but today, Mr. Roberts sat there, and I was next to him.
Mama asked, “Kevin, would you like to say grace?” and I immediately bowed my head. That’s when I felt Mr. Roberts grab my hand.
