Chapter Two
Alyssa
The chatter in the church was growing louder as more and more people arrived. The sermon was over, and it was now time to discuss the fundraiser: something I’d looked forward to all month. Some of the older ladies had encouraged another bake sale, but this year, I wanted to do something different: a fall carnival, complete with hay rides, pumpkin carving contests, and even a dunking booth, if possible. I was desperate for change, change from the same old mundane routine found in this small town.
“I’ve got news,” my mother squeezed into the pew next to me. Instead of taking the empty spot on the far side of me, she pushed into me with her hips, sliding me over to give her space.
I rolled my eyes. News? In this town? More like gossip, and I’d heard enough already from the three old ladies sitting in front of me.
Mom leaned in close, her breath so warm against my ear that I cringed. “Liam is in town, to stay,” she whispered.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention, and my gut growled with anxiety at the news. Could it be true? It couldn’t be.
My eyes locked on to my mother’s. Her disapproval was obvious on her tightened lips and squinted, dark eyes. I’d thought about this day, even dreamt about it before, but it had been twelve years. So much had changed.
“Who told you that?” I whispered, not willing to believe what she said. She must’ve been mistaken. She had to be.
“I saw him at the diner with Aiden,” she said softly, but not softly enough.
My heart raced as I stared across the room. Holly rolled a wooden car around the church floor with one of the smaller kids, her smile so sweet, so familiar. Her bright blue eyes didn’t match my dark ones, and her blondish hair, smooth and straight, certainly wasn’t from my Hispanic background.
“We can’t talk about this now,” I warned my mother, catching a glimpse of Bruce as he stepped up behind us.
He leaned in, his breath thick with beer, and kissed me on the cheek. My mother shrugged, pulling away from his presence, and grunted with displeasure as he chuckled at her discomfort. As much as she hated Liam, she hated Bruce even more.
“What are you two ladies gossiping about?” he intruded.
My mother waved her hand towards him, shaking her head in disgust. “You stink of the bar,” she hissed.
“I had one beer,” Bruce argued.
“We’re in the house of the Lord,” Maria growled, giving him one of her famous hateful stares. I wondered if she’d given the same one to Liam and how he’d reacted.
“Give it a rest, Maria,” he teased. “We all know how much you love your wine,” he pushed.
One of the older ladies in front of us turned her head over her shoulder, sneering in our direction. I hated the stares and the judgment, and more than anything, I hated the tension between my mother and Bruce.
“Why don’t you wait in the truck,” Maria growled.
Bruce smirked and then pushed his lips back against my cheek for another kiss. “Is that what you want, baby?” he asked me.
I did. I wanted him out of that church, away from my mother, and out of earshot, so I could find more out about Liam.
“Do you mind?” I asked sweetly, batting my eyes in his direction.
His stern grimace softened, and he offered a faint smile. I watched him glance in Holly’s direction, but only for a moment. She didn’t make any point to come over when she noticed him. I knew she liked him about as much he liked her, which was very little.
“I’ll be outside. Don’t be long,” he ordered, and with that, he disappeared out the front doors of the church.
“Alyssa, what do you see in that meathead?” Maria snickered, her eyes still peering towards the direction of Bruce’s exit path.
I shrugged off her snide question, knowing it was more of a comment, one not requiring a response. No matter what I told her, it wouldn’t be good enough. No one was ever good enough for Maria Martinez’s daughter: not Bruce, not Liam, no one.
“Do you think Aiden will keep the secret since Liam is here to stay now?” she asked, her eyes glazed with a black hue.
I shuddered at her question, unsure about the answer. My eyes looked past my mother and rested on my daughter. She still played with the smaller child, making engine sounds that echoed through the large church. Her long arms stretched out past her body as she rolled the car along the carpet of the church floor. She was tall, like her father, not petite like me. At eleven, it was already clear that she would tower over me one day, probably sooner than I realized. Her pale skin, cute freckles, and bright blue eyes were all her father’s as well, making it easy to see the resemblance with just a quick glance.
“It doesn’t matter. One look, and he’ll know,” I sighed, leaning back against the pew.
Maria lifted her coffee cup, one purchased from the diner up the street, where she must’ve run into Liam and Aiden.
“Put that away,” I hissed, glaring at the cup.
“What? I’m not drinking that dirt water they call coffee,” Maria retorted, louder than she should have.
“Mom, seriously,” I cringed as one of the older ladies sitting in front of us turned to sneer in our direction.
I hated people staring, but it didn’t seem to bother Maria, at least not to the point where she showed it. Holly always brought stares from people, especially those in the church. She wasn’t Hispanic, at least not visibly, and that irritated some of the older women. Maybe that’s what I saw in Bruce. He was tall, white, had a clean-shaven head, and had a set of blue eyes, nearly as blue as Holly’s. He cut down on the amount of stares I received. When it was just me and Holly, I felt as though the entire town looked our way, trying to see some resemblance, trying to match her to someone in the town. When Bruce was with us, it made her pale skin and light hair make sense mixed with her full lips and curvy hips, curvy hips that appeared far too soon.
Two ladies stopped at our pew, gabbing about the cake sale and pulling my mom right into their mundane ideas. Ugh. Maria Martinez could cook, and she loved to show that skill off. A bake sale was perfect for her, but not for me.
“I think it would be nice to have a carnival theme,” I interjected, but it fell onto deaf ears.
The women continued to stroke my mother’s ego, telling her that no one could bake an avocado-lime cheesecake like she could. That was true, and it was just enough praise to make her forget all about Liam, about the situation that was about to erupt, and take off with them towards the pastor to strong-arm him into another boring bake sale.