“We’ll let you get dressed before your towel falls off, and you show Reese more than she wants to see. I haven’t had the sex talk with her yet.”

Let. Me. Die!

She really said that. To him! Prison had done things to my mom. I couldn’t remember her being so forward, so blunt, so embarrassing.

“Oh my gosh …” I covered my face with my hands. “Thanks for embarrassing me. I’m an adult now, ya know?”

I was an adult covering her flushed face. I was an adult who hadn’t had sex because I wasn’t married. I was an adult who fit in with my grandparents, my church family, and my friends from the Christian academy. Apparently, I wasn’t an adult in my mom’s eyes, and something told me I wasn’t an adult in Fisher’s eyes. Or maybe I was. That was the most terrifying thought at that moment.

Chapter Four

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” My mom laughed as we headed back downstairs. “I’ve been stressing out over how to treat you.” She opened the fridge and plucked two sodas from the bottom shelf, handing one to me.

Orange soda. She used to give me that as a special treat. I wondered if she had those graham crackers shaped like bears as well since that used to be my favorite snack—when I was five years younger.

“I mean … the last time I saw you, you weren’t even old enough to drive a car. You hadn’t gotten your period yet. And now you’re a grown woman. I know it in my head, but my heart still remembers the little girl. I guess I want to get back time, but I can’t.”

“Thanks.” I took the soda and sat on the U-shaped leather sectional. “I know. It’s weird for me too. I guess we’ll just have to pray about it, and God will help us through this.”

Pausing the bottle at her lips, she shook her head. “Boy … they did a fine job of indoctrinating you. Didn’t they?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean the ‘we’ll just have to pray about it.’ That’s not what the average eighteen-year-old girl says. I’ve been a little isolated for a few years, but I know that much hasn’t changed. You talk like a girl who’s been reading the Bible more than romance novels. A girl who spends more time praying than watching Netflix.”

“I have a love for Christ. Is that so wrong? We went to church before you went to prison.”

She chuckled and took a sip of her orange soda. “We were Catholic.”

“So? What’s that matter?”