wastebasket then pulled out his Chapstick. We glanced up at each other. I had unwittingly pulled mine out at the same time and like swords drawn, we applied the Chapstick to our lips, watching the other with narrowed eyes. “And how is my little Miss Demeanor?” Byron slurred.
I gave him a catty smile in return. “I like your shirt. That’s an interesting color. Did you vomit then decide to wear it?”
“Yeah, I think it was your cooking.”
“That’s funny.” I twisted my lips. “I don’t remember cooking for you—let alone any man.”
“Of course not. No man would come within ten feet of you—unless he was a hit man, of course.”
Carrie stopped slamming her ragdoll against the wall to stare at us, her jaw slacked. Byron’s eyes were on mine, not on the poor citizen caught in the crossfire. His lips curled. He got me good. I wondered how long he had been practicing that one. “Alright, cuz,” he said. “We should get along…for the sake of the children.”
Sure, he wanted to stop now that he had gotten the best of me. I filled Carrie’s tiny cup with water. “Okay,” I said. “I gave the lesson last week. It’s your turn.”
He relaxed against one of the tiny pink plastic chairs. “She’s two,” he argued.
“And she needs to learn about sunshine and rainbows. I’m just dying to know your take on it, professor.” After a moment, he sighed and stretched to his feet. Carrie ran back and forth between us. “Oh, and if you can, try to keep her attention,” I reminded him.
“That’s where you come in,” at my rebellious look, he added, “unless you want me to use you as an object lesson, of course?”
After an inner struggle, I found Carrie’s doll on the floor and with some difficulty, I readjusted my pencil skirt and sat down, pretending to play with the doll. She quickly came to claim it and I had her. I set her on the plastic chair and she wriggled down to the ground. I put her back and she collapsed to the floor next to me, her belly heaving up and down in her white fluffy dress. “This is the best we’re gonna get,” I said.
“Good enough.” He got to his knees in front of us. “Okay, open your scriptures to…uh…” he smiled playfully, “Isaiah.”
We both just stared up at him. “The lesson’s on CTR,” I said. “Choose the Right. I don’t suppose you know anything about that?”
With difficulty, he kept down his amusement. “More than Carrie’s other teacher does.” Before I could answer, he plowed to his next point. “Okay, you’re supposed to choose the right, not the wrong, class, and sometimes it’s hard, and sometimes it’s not. Think about it. How often do you want to murder someone—except when playing church basketball, of course?”
I stared up at him . Oh, murder was always a temptation. I began to wonder who this lesson was meant for anyway. Carrie still lay there, staring up at the ceiling.
“But you bring a girl into it and all of a sudden…okay, get this, David was a nice guy. Look in Second Kings. He played the drums, so that made him pretty cool, right?” Carrie really didn’t notice the false doctrine and neither did Byron for that matter. I had a strange feeling that he was trying to get a reaction from me. I tried not to give him one. “But then this female comes along and they’re nothing but trouble. You’ve got Bathsheba and Jezebel and Potiphar’s wife. These women are like knives. You never know when they will turn on you.”
I gave him a stern look. “Beware of false teachers.”
“Beware of wolves in sheep clothing,” he said without missing a beat.
I took a deep breath, thinking hard. “Beware of false pride.”
“Beware of covetousness.”
What? I tried to regain control of the situation. His eyes danced, knowing that I would pull the worst meaning from that. Did he actually think I was jealous of him, or worse, that I wanted to date him? Never! He was a womanizer. I shifted, feeling antsier than
I gave him a catty smile in return. “I like your shirt. That’s an interesting color. Did you vomit then decide to wear it?”
“Yeah, I think it was your cooking.”
“That’s funny.” I twisted my lips. “I don’t remember cooking for you—let alone any man.”
“Of course not. No man would come within ten feet of you—unless he was a hit man, of course.”
Carrie stopped slamming her ragdoll against the wall to stare at us, her jaw slacked. Byron’s eyes were on mine, not on the poor citizen caught in the crossfire. His lips curled. He got me good. I wondered how long he had been practicing that one. “Alright, cuz,” he said. “We should get along…for the sake of the children.”
Sure, he wanted to stop now that he had gotten the best of me. I filled Carrie’s tiny cup with water. “Okay,” I said. “I gave the lesson last week. It’s your turn.”
He relaxed against one of the tiny pink plastic chairs. “She’s two,” he argued.
“And she needs to learn about sunshine and rainbows. I’m just dying to know your take on it, professor.” After a moment, he sighed and stretched to his feet. Carrie ran back and forth between us. “Oh, and if you can, try to keep her attention,” I reminded him.
“That’s where you come in,” at my rebellious look, he added, “unless you want me to use you as an object lesson, of course?”
After an inner struggle, I found Carrie’s doll on the floor and with some difficulty, I readjusted my pencil skirt and sat down, pretending to play with the doll. She quickly came to claim it and I had her. I set her on the plastic chair and she wriggled down to the ground. I put her back and she collapsed to the floor next to me, her belly heaving up and down in her white fluffy dress. “This is the best we’re gonna get,” I said.
“Good enough.” He got to his knees in front of us. “Okay, open your scriptures to…uh…” he smiled playfully, “Isaiah.”
We both just stared up at him. “The lesson’s on CTR,” I said. “Choose the Right. I don’t suppose you know anything about that?”
With difficulty, he kept down his amusement. “More than Carrie’s other teacher does.” Before I could answer, he plowed to his next point. “Okay, you’re supposed to choose the right, not the wrong, class, and sometimes it’s hard, and sometimes it’s not. Think about it. How often do you want to murder someone—except when playing church basketball, of course?”
I stared up at him . Oh, murder was always a temptation. I began to wonder who this lesson was meant for anyway. Carrie still lay there, staring up at the ceiling.
“But you bring a girl into it and all of a sudden…okay, get this, David was a nice guy. Look in Second Kings. He played the drums, so that made him pretty cool, right?” Carrie really didn’t notice the false doctrine and neither did Byron for that matter. I had a strange feeling that he was trying to get a reaction from me. I tried not to give him one. “But then this female comes along and they’re nothing but trouble. You’ve got Bathsheba and Jezebel and Potiphar’s wife. These women are like knives. You never know when they will turn on you.”
I gave him a stern look. “Beware of false teachers.”
“Beware of wolves in sheep clothing,” he said without missing a beat.
I took a deep breath, thinking hard. “Beware of false pride.”
“Beware of covetousness.”
What? I tried to regain control of the situation. His eyes danced, knowing that I would pull the worst meaning from that. Did he actually think I was jealous of him, or worse, that I wanted to date him? Never! He was a womanizer. I shifted, feeling antsier than
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