(Author's Note - Thank you for all your kind words and critical comments the past two stories. I appreciate all the feedback, and look forward to writing more stories in the future.)
SUNDAY SCHOOL
I've never done anything like this.
I never meant for things to go this far.
I remember sitting on the bench in the lobby of that hotel, watching travelers walk by without giving me a second glance. I remember being extremely nervous, tapping my foot anxiously, while looking around the lobby for any signs of somebody I knew. I remember my palms were clammy and my heart was beating 100 miles an hour.
Why was I doing this? Didn't I know how wrong this was? Am I a horrible person? What if somebody sees me sitting here?
As I continued to crane my neck, scanning for faces who might recognize me, my mind floated back to how this all began. It sounded like something you would see on the news: How the All-American soccer mom let her emotions and desires get the best of her, while doing something crazy. People would mock her on TV, wondering just what the hell was going through her mind, and what sort of misguided fantasy got her in this mess in the first place. You always hear about the end story, but you never really hear about what led up to it and how a person with seemingly everything going for her, would throw it all away. I guess I better start from the beginning:
My name is Anna. I'm 29 years old. I have two children, a good job and a great house in the suburbs.
I was also about to cheat on my husband with the person he least expected.
-----------------------------------------------
Even at this crazy stage of my life, I realized I was living the life that most people would die for.
After college, I got a fantastic job as a buyer for a local department store. Sometimes it seemed like work, but I always came back to the same realization... I was being paid to shop! Despite my degree and background in advertising, it became the perfect way to be around other people and to fulfill my childhood dream of working in fashion. Sure, our chain of twenty stores across the south weren't super fancy, but they gave me a chance to travel the world and meet with designers and importers that were well known in the industry. I had been doing this job for several years by this point, and had really started to feel like I was hitting my stride.
I met my husband, Mike, in college where we were married five months after graduation in a small but beautiful ceremony. The day was amazing, and I couldn't have asked for a more perfect partner to start my adult life with. Within three years we had our daughter Bree and 18 months later her sister Audrey was born. Shortly after that, we moved to our new home in suburban Nashville, and quietly settled in as one happy little family.
My husband is a decent man, but quite the opposite of myself. Whereas I was raised in a single parent home, he was the youngest child of nine. He is also super close with his parents, whereas I might see my mother once a year during the holidays. (My father I haven't seen since I was 12). He is quiet, serious and religious. Meanwhile, I'm chatty, silly and free-spirited. People often ask us how we can be together so long, while being such opposites. The simple answer is that we're never bored and are a very good compliment for one another. Despite our opposite paths and personalities, our differences keep things fresh and always exciting. Mike certainly had his flaws, but he was always supportive of me and the girls. Beyond anything else, I'll be forever grateful to him for that.
After about a year or so though, everything started to change.
Mike was working more and more late hours, and the girls were spending far more time at their grandparent's house (his folks) than in ours. Our schedules were tedious, and the simple stress of everyday life was certainly starting to cause friction between all of us. Our sex life was never crazy good, but it was never bad either. Mike had only been with two women before me, (So he says) and I always loved his naïve way of looking at sex. I on the other hand lost my virginity at 16 to a boy I had met at the movie theaters that same night. Although my sexual experiences never came up, I could tell that Mike always felt a little inferior in a way. We never talked about it, but I knew that my sexual past was somehow keeping us from enjoying a better sexual present.
Despite growing apart, Mike and I did the best we could at remaining involved as parents. We took turns driving to and from soccer games and dance recitals, and he was always very good at coordinating a way to pick the girls up, no matter what else we had going on. The one thing he was NEVER flexible on, however, was church.
I grew up in an agnostic home, while Mike's family never missed a service...ever. Every single Sunday, since the day he was born, he has made it to church. That's actually quite impressive, if not a bit sad. (Considering there are so many things to do on Sunday mornings, most of which do not include hanging out with people you never would talk to at any other point in your life.)
Anyhow, we navigated our differences in that area pretty well, and I did my motherly duty to take the girls to Sunday School on a weekly basis. It was a nice compromise, and a nice way for me to get out of the house for an extra half hour or so each week. Sometimes I stayed and gossiped with acquaintances. Sometimes I went back home for a while before returning. It all just depended on my mood that day.
One random Sunday in April, I was dropping the girls off at St. Paul's, when I was met at the door by an angelic young woman wearing a gorgeous floral print sundress.
"Hi, you must be Bree and Audrey's mom! It is so great to finally meet you!"
She was rather petite in stature, featuring an athletic frame and a distinct southern drawl. Her arms were powerful, has her shapely hips were perfectly well defined in the polished softness of the flowing sundress. Brown curls fell to her shoulders, partially pinned up in a perfectly manicured white bow. Her shoes screamed middle America, as did the dimples on both of her cheeks. If there was a Stepford Wife training program somewhere, Sunday School edition, this girl was most definitely a part of it.
"Hi," I replied, surmising the intentions of her overly-cheerful greeting. "I'm Anna, so nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too. I'm Liz," She said shaking my hand. "Your girls are such dolls! Oh my goodness, I just love them so much. God has really blessed your family".
"Thanks" I replied.
"This is only my second weekend here, but I already feel like I know them."
"Oh really?" I stated. "Where were you before that?"
"Pastor Dan is my uncle, and I'm staying with them for the summer while I work on an internship for school. I'm going to be a sophomore at Cumberland University in the fall, but I'm trying to get in as many hours as I can before school starts back up. I'm teaching Sunday School because Uncle Dan...oops, Pastor Dan, needed help with the younger kids"
After spending a few minutes with this girl, my thoughts were all over the map. First and foremost was her innocent but charismatic demeanor. The second thing that struck me, was how absolutely GORGEOUS she was, despite her overly goody-two-shoes persona. Her green eyes sparkled under the mid-morning sun, and her complexion radiated an almost halo-like quality about her. Given different surroundings and a touch-up here or there, I was quite convinced she could be one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen.
After a few minutes of chit-chat, Liz checked her phone.
"Oh my goodness, I'm late! I'm so sorry to run, but the Lord calls!"
I smiled, nodded and gave her a half-hearted wave as she disappeared behind the glass double doors of the church.
------------------------------------
The following week, I began to think about Liz quite a bit. Whether it was shopping at the grocery store or walking the dog in the evening; For some reason, her chipper persona and sunshine demeanor stuck in my head like a bad cold. But why? I couldn't decide if I was developing a crush on her, or wanted to punch her in the face. Perhaps it was the accent? Maybe she reminded me of somebody else from when I was younger? I couldn't figure it out for the life of me, as she continued to show up in my head on an almost hourly basis.
The next Sunday, I found myself at the door to the church with the girls once again, and just like the previous week, there was Liz gleefully welcoming the children into the house of God.
"Good morning girls! Oh My Goodness! Look how adorable you both look!"
Once again, she radiated the image of divine perfection. This time wearing a form-fitting green dress and matching scarf, her hair plunged over her shoulders like chestnut waves of heaven. Her legs, visible this time, flowed from her dress in a way that simply defined sexy, yet subdued. Her smile beamed and her laughter was toxic.
"Hi Anna! How are you!!??" She squealed, giving me a half-hearted hug.
"I'm good Liz, thanks. How are you?"
"I'm great!" she replied. "The girls look so adorable today, like little pieces of heaven that have fallen from the sky".
"Well", I shot back, "You don't see them at the crack of dawn, throwing toys at me and drawing pictures on the bathroom floor with my lipstick."
Liz laughed hysterically. "Well, you know God only fills the souls of children with mischief to remind us of our own imperfections."
I took a deep breath and was quickly reminded of the part of Liz that I didn't really like. "That's true," I said, following the upbeat and happy exchange with six to eight seconds of brutally awkward silence. "Well, I better be going now. Have fun girls and listen to Miss Liz!" Liz grabbed the girls by the hand and gave us an excited wave.
On the way back to the house, I had a sudden and startling realization. Our neighbor, Mrs. Simpson has a son that just started going to school at Cumberland last semester. I wonder if he knows her? It's a not a huge school, but certainly worth a shot right? Once I pulled into the driveway, I immediately headed next door to the Simpson house, knocked rapidly on the front door. After waiting almost a minute for an answer, I made out a subtle engine noise coming from the backyard, where their eldest son Matt was mowing.
"Hi Matt!" I yelled. "Having fun?"
