* * *
—
The con takes forever, because Elijah’s more concerned with appearances than some of the other marks. He refuses to take their relationship public—Jamison doesn’t even know about it. Haley isn’t supposed to know, but of course, I get a blow-by-blow account of each of their meetings and a breakdown of what Mom’s done to twist further into his life.
When she sees the bruises on my wrist, she arches an eyebrow. “What a little shit,” she mutters. “Can you handle him, baby?”
“It’s fine.” I tug the cardigan sleeve down so it covers me up properly.
It’s not fine. Jamison has four inches and three years on me. And even if he didn’t, I’m not allowed to fight back. Haley doesn’t know how to throw a punch. A girl like her would tuck her thumb into her fist if she tried. She’s a slow-moving target.
“He’s gonna be mad,” I warn her when she shows me the ring Elijah’s finally given her.
Mom smiles. “Then we’ll just use that anger, won’t we?”
* * *
—
“You’re dating her mom?” Jamison demands.
“Jamison, manners,” Elijah scolds from across the brunch table.
“It’s fine,” Mom says. “I know this might come as a surprise to both of you.” She takes my hand and sets it, wrapped in hers, on the table.
“We’ve been spending a lot of time together since Maya volunteered to take over the scheduling when Mrs. Armstrong broke her leg,” Elijah says. “And we’ve prayed on it hard, haven’t we, angel?”
Mom nods, her gaze on him soft and worshipful. She positively shines up at him. “We have.”
“The Lord’s spoken,” Elijah tells Jamison and me. “He’s worked to bring us all together.”
“To be a family,” Mom says, reaching over with her other hand and grasping Elijah’s.
“What does she mean?” Jamison’s looking hard at his father, his eyes narrowed.
“I’ve asked Maya to be my wife,” Elijah tells him. “She’s agreed.”
“What do you think, baby?” she asks me.
We worked through my response the night before. Jamison is going to be the troublemaker in this scenario, which makes me what Mom calls the golden child.
“I want you to be happy, Momma,” I tell her. “You, too, Pastor Elijah.” I smile, making it tremulous, my shoulders hunched just a little. “You’ve helped so many people, Pastor Elijah. You deserve this.”
That last sentence, the last part, is very true. He does deserve exactly what’s coming to him. He’s a con artist, just like us. He doesn’t worship anything but money, and he doesn’t speak any kind of truth, just careful words designed to strip naive people of their cash. Love offerings, my ass. More like Elijah’s private jet’s fuel offerings.
“This is bullshit!” Jamison declares, and Elijah’s eyes go steely, like when he talks about the devil on that stage with his pop star mic looped around his head.
“Do not use that language, young man.”
But Jamison is already up and bolting out of the restaurant. Elijah sighs and Mom looks at me, a significant look.
I know what I’m supposed to do.
I also know what happens if I chase him.
I do it anyway.
* * *
—
My lip’s bleeding by the time Jamison stalks away, off to sulk in the car. I touch my tongue against the spot, tasting copper.
“Here.” A napkin’s thrust under my nose. I take it, holding it to my lip as I look up at Pastor Elijah.
“It’s fine. I just bit my lip,” I say, testing him.
He glances over to the parking lot where the car is and then back to me. He knows exactly why my lip is bleeding.
“I’ve watched you these last months,” he says.
“I don’t mean to draw attention.”
“You’re a good girl. You keep sweet, no matter what,” he tells me, and I smile back at him when he smiles so approvingly, because oh, did I have him pegged right. He’s sending me a message: This is what I am—just a bleeding target. He wants to make me smaller.
But I haven’t been small this whole time. I’ve just been waiting to unfurl.
“I want to be good,” I say, and it’s true, in a way. I want to be great. I want to be perfect. Just like Mom.
“You’ll be a good little sister,” he tells me, and it’s more of an order than a compliment.
“I hope so,” I say, and that’s true, too. If there’s anything I want to be, other than my mother’s perfect daughter, it’s beloved by my sister.