abruptly
stopped and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket as it was humming on vibrate. “Hello? Hey,
Frank.” He turned around and started having a conversation with one of his buddies. I guessed he had
given someone a call while we were still at the car. “Yeah, if you wouldn’t mind. Um, it’s Livingston
Street. Well, that depends. Do you want to change a tire in the cold or would you rather hook up the
car to a tow truck in the cold?” He chuckled. “Okay. Sure. Thanks. See ya.” He snapped the phone
shut and smiled as he headed back to where I stood. “Help’s on the way.”
He said it as if we were in danger.
We began walking again down the driveway and rounded the corner. Mrs. Anderson’s house would
be within sight soon. My eyes skimmed past the fading fog toward where I knew the porch would be.
Suddenly, my crunching steps came to a halt.
“Anna, what the …?”
“Shh!” I hissed at him, squatting down behind a bush to hide myself so I could observe more
closely. Buck automatically hunched over next to me.
I could see Mrs. Anderson’s house clearly now in the distance. She was outside standing in her
yard with a pretty white lace shawl wrapped around her head. Pieces of her brunette hair were
sticking out of the sides. She laughed suddenly, the sound echoing over to where we were, and then
she lightly touched the side of a man’s face who was standing in front of her. I squinted a few more
times to confirm who exactly it was.
“Pastor James?” Buck mumbled, just as surprised as I was.
Pastor James, my father, was standing there in the yard not seeming like a pastor but simply an
ordinary man now, a man that was uncomfortably close to another woman, a woman that was not my
mother.
I watched the two of them obviously conversing, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying to each
other. Then suddenly Mrs. Anderson took a step up on the wooden porch stairs and turned with an
outstretched hand toward my father. He stood there for a moment before stretching out and taking her
hand in his own and together the two of them walked up the stairs to the front of the porch together.
My heart felt like it was going to leap right out of my chest. I gasped and then covered my mouth as a
shrill, piercing sound had started to escape.
My eyes were glued to the front of the house. I couldn’t move, feeling as if my feet were cemented
to the ground. They conversed for a few more minutes in front of her door, and then suddenly my
father bent downwards and kissed her hand. He held it for a moment longer before she gave him a
kiss on the cheek. He then turned away to head toward his car. Mrs. Anderson watched him leave
before removing her white shawl and going into her house.
What in the world was going on? Had I really just seen what I thought I had? My father, the loving,
respected, honorable Pastor John James was having an affair? I felt that familiar lump return to my
throat. My entire body felt heavy and weighed down. Clenching my hands together, I could feel the
nails digging into the palms of my hands. Fury overtook every emotion as the strongest now. I wanted
to stand up and scream at the top of my lungs.
“Anna,” Buck whispered. “That wasn’t what it seemed. It couldn’t have been. Anna? Anna?”
I wasn’t listening to what he was saying. I could only feel the rage overwhelm me as the tears began
to sting my eyes and rush furiously down my cheeks. I found the strength to stand up, turn and start
running as fast as I could down the driveway again.
“Anna!” Buck called after me. “Please wait!”
I couldn’t turn around and face him. I couldn’t look at him and have him see the shame in my eyes,
shame for my hypocritical father’s actions. All this time, all these calls to our house and him running
over here, all for this. I wanted to throw up. This couldn’t be happening. Not to me. Not to my family.
Somebody else’s, but not mine. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be.
I
stopped and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket as it was humming on vibrate. “Hello? Hey,
Frank.” He turned around and started having a conversation with one of his buddies. I guessed he had
given someone a call while we were still at the car. “Yeah, if you wouldn’t mind. Um, it’s Livingston
Street. Well, that depends. Do you want to change a tire in the cold or would you rather hook up the
car to a tow truck in the cold?” He chuckled. “Okay. Sure. Thanks. See ya.” He snapped the phone
shut and smiled as he headed back to where I stood. “Help’s on the way.”
He said it as if we were in danger.
We began walking again down the driveway and rounded the corner. Mrs. Anderson’s house would
be within sight soon. My eyes skimmed past the fading fog toward where I knew the porch would be.
Suddenly, my crunching steps came to a halt.
“Anna, what the …?”
“Shh!” I hissed at him, squatting down behind a bush to hide myself so I could observe more
closely. Buck automatically hunched over next to me.
I could see Mrs. Anderson’s house clearly now in the distance. She was outside standing in her
yard with a pretty white lace shawl wrapped around her head. Pieces of her brunette hair were
sticking out of the sides. She laughed suddenly, the sound echoing over to where we were, and then
she lightly touched the side of a man’s face who was standing in front of her. I squinted a few more
times to confirm who exactly it was.
“Pastor James?” Buck mumbled, just as surprised as I was.
Pastor James, my father, was standing there in the yard not seeming like a pastor but simply an
ordinary man now, a man that was uncomfortably close to another woman, a woman that was not my
mother.
I watched the two of them obviously conversing, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying to each
other. Then suddenly Mrs. Anderson took a step up on the wooden porch stairs and turned with an
outstretched hand toward my father. He stood there for a moment before stretching out and taking her
hand in his own and together the two of them walked up the stairs to the front of the porch together.
My heart felt like it was going to leap right out of my chest. I gasped and then covered my mouth as a
shrill, piercing sound had started to escape.
My eyes were glued to the front of the house. I couldn’t move, feeling as if my feet were cemented
to the ground. They conversed for a few more minutes in front of her door, and then suddenly my
father bent downwards and kissed her hand. He held it for a moment longer before she gave him a
kiss on the cheek. He then turned away to head toward his car. Mrs. Anderson watched him leave
before removing her white shawl and going into her house.
What in the world was going on? Had I really just seen what I thought I had? My father, the loving,
respected, honorable Pastor John James was having an affair? I felt that familiar lump return to my
throat. My entire body felt heavy and weighed down. Clenching my hands together, I could feel the
nails digging into the palms of my hands. Fury overtook every emotion as the strongest now. I wanted
to stand up and scream at the top of my lungs.
“Anna,” Buck whispered. “That wasn’t what it seemed. It couldn’t have been. Anna? Anna?”
I wasn’t listening to what he was saying. I could only feel the rage overwhelm me as the tears began
to sting my eyes and rush furiously down my cheeks. I found the strength to stand up, turn and start
running as fast as I could down the driveway again.
“Anna!” Buck called after me. “Please wait!”
I couldn’t turn around and face him. I couldn’t look at him and have him see the shame in my eyes,
shame for my hypocritical father’s actions. All this time, all these calls to our house and him running
over here, all for this. I wanted to throw up. This couldn’t be happening. Not to me. Not to my family.
Somebody else’s, but not mine. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be.
I
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