Vienna Beach: Paradise
In the Pews
Bay’s P.O.V~
I got up extra early to get a quick run in before church. Over my years of travel, I had learned to
make a habit of my early runs. It made it even better that I got to do it on the beach every morning, with the sunrise and all.
“Bay, are you ready?” my mother asked from the bottom of the banister.
“Um…” I was still ambling around with sopping wet hair, due to my shower, still deciding on what to wear.
I heard my brother groan from the front foyer. “Jesus Christ. For Pete’s sake, Bay, hurry up or we’ll be late!”
I rolled my eyes, even though I knew no one could see me. “I’m coming; I’m coming, just give me a second,”
“Just be down in five minutes or we’re leaving without you,” Reed warned, stomping away. The little baby.
Thirty minutes—two finger burns due to rushing with a flat-iron, four dresses, and a pair of lacy boots—later I was sliding into our little car, on our way to the community church we had gone to years ago. Even after everything, this church still looked the same: the ancient white-washed walls, mahogany pews, and my favorite antique, handcrafted stain glass windows. It was a small fit, but no one seemed to matter.
“Where should we sit?” I hissed at Reed since he was the one standing middle isle, looking like a lost puppy.
“Um, how about over there?” Reed sounded unsure and maybe a little…nervous? I guess that made sense, it was our first official day back after all.
I simply shrugged, trying not to let my own nerves bring me down. “Sure, why not?”
Reed led the way to left side of pews, front row. It wasn’t really my first choice, but it was better than looking completely clueless, all eyes on us.
“Oh, David, look, is that Diana and Ryan?” my mother gasped, hooking her arm in the crook of my father’s sports jacket.
“I believe it is,” my father smiled, shaking the hands of their long ago friends. “It’s good to see you again, Ryan. Diana.”
“When did you get back into town?” Ryan asked.
“Just last night,” my mother told him. “The kids were exhausted.”
I tried not to flinch when all attention was reflected towards me and my brother. “Oh my, Marie, is this Reed—and Bay? Goodness, they’ve grown up so much!” Hah, like she cared.
I had always thought it was a little creepy that Mrs. Watson looked like one of those Malibu Barbie kinds of women with her orange spray tans and dyed blonde hair—ironic how guys like her husband (and all other single men in Vienna) drooled over fake stuff like that. And it wasn’t like her daughter was any different.
“Diana, is that Lucy?” my mother asked, gaping at the “golden goddess” that had appeared next to her mother.
Well my good mood just took a dive out the stain glass windows.
Speaking of the devil—no pun intended.
I thought it was weird that the first thing I noticed about her was her height. Me being just over five feet, Lucy looked like a giant towering over me. Her usually blonde hair was mocha brown, her natural color I presumed, and perfectly flat ironed and laying across her shoulders. Just looking at her styled hair and fake tan, I could just tell she was a bitch. Gone was that little girl that used to play mermaids with me, swimming up and down over the ocean crests.
“Bay, is that you?” Lucy screeched, running up—more like fast walking because “running” was physically impossible in those six inch pumps—to pull me into a tight hug. If I wasn’t claustrophobic before, I was now. And please, before you judge, you should consider the face I was gagging in Brittany Spears perfume and choking in all the accessories Lucy was drowning in.
“Hey, Lucy,” I managed to cough out, “I haven’t seen you in forever.”
“Oh, I know,” she droned, “I can’t believe it’s been six years since I’ve seen you! Can you believe it?”
Great, she was one of those girls. The one that emphasized every other damn word.
“Yeah. It’s unbelievable.” I deadpanned, trying to get my point across that I didn’t want to talk to her. At all.
Lucy simply tilted her head back and laughed. “You’ve changed, Bay, you really have.”
“Look at you,” I observed. Might as well play along. “You’re, like, six feet now!”
“It’s the Mary Jane’s,” she explained to me, “they’re a pain up my ass but so adorbs, don’t you think, Bay?”
I nodded, glancing down at my sandals. “They’re very cute, Lucy.”
“Cute?” Lucy blinked. “Babe, puppies are cute. Babies are cute. These are sexy!”
And you’re wearing them to church? I thought to myself.
“Yeah, Lucy, they are amazing.” I said, biting back a giggle. True she did look good, if she was going to prom, not Sunday mass.
“I know right?” she marveled, plastering on one of those “Miss America” smiles.
“Ladies, hate to interrupt but the mass is about to start,” Mr. Watson said. “You guys can pick up after church is over.”
“Sounds great,” Lucy whispered. “We have so much to talk about.”
__________
Mass was mass, at least to me. Father Carter was still there, being the same boring priest as he was years ago. If it wasn’t for the crosses decorating every possible space and the fact that everyone was praying, I would’ve mistaken this for a prison chamber, especially with Hitler’s little incarnation sitting right beside me. I don’t know why but I had a really bad vibe about Lucy.
Once mass ended, both our family and the Watson’s filed out and made their way into the courtyard. Unfortunately, we had “so much to talk about”. Joy.
“David, Marie, why don’t you and the kids join us for lunch. We were planning on Maurice’s.” Mr. Watson told us.
“It’s still here?” my mother asked. “The kids used to love that place!”
“Oh yeah, it’s still a hot spot,” Mrs. Watson said. “So will you come?”
No, I thought. The last thing I wanted to do right now was eat lunch with the Watson’s. “Of course.” My mother said instead. “That sounds so nice, thank you.”
“What’s to thank us for? We have lots to catch up on.” Mr. Watson said.
Mrs. Watson nodded her head in agreement. “Ryan’s right, I’m afraid we lost touch. The only way we heard from you was the newspapers—you have become quite the famous bunch.”
Kill me. “I suppose we have,” My father laughed. “But yes, why don’t we follow you there. You all still park—”
“—at the strip mall,” Mr. Watson finished with a chuckle. “Nothing has changed after all the years, has it, David?”
“Not at all, we’ll see you there.”
…
I got up extra early to get a quick run in before church. Over my years of travel, I had learned to
make a habit of my early runs. It made it even better that I got to do it on the beach every morning, with the sunrise and all.
“Bay, are you ready?” my mother asked from the bottom of the banister.
“Um…” I was still ambling around with sopping wet hair, due to my shower, still deciding on what to wear.
I heard my brother groan from the front foyer. “Jesus Christ. For Pete’s sake, Bay, hurry up or we’ll be late!”
I rolled my eyes, even though I knew no one could see me. “I’m coming; I’m coming, just give me a second,”
“Just be down in five minutes or we’re leaving without you,” Reed warned, stomping away. The little baby.
Thirty minutes—two finger burns due to rushing with a flat-iron, four dresses, and a pair of lacy boots—later I was sliding into our little car, on our way to the community church we had gone to years ago. Even after everything, this church still looked the same: the ancient white-washed walls, mahogany pews, and my favorite antique, handcrafted stain glass windows. It was a small fit, but no one seemed to matter.
“Where should we sit?” I hissed at Reed since he was the one standing middle isle, looking like a lost puppy.
“Um, how about over there?” Reed sounded unsure and maybe a little…nervous? I guess that made sense, it was our first official day back after all.
I simply shrugged, trying not to let my own nerves bring me down. “Sure, why not?”
Reed led the way to left side of pews, front row. It wasn’t really my first choice, but it was better than looking completely clueless, all eyes on us.
“Oh, David, look, is that Diana and Ryan?” my mother gasped, hooking her arm in the crook of my father’s sports jacket.
“I believe it is,” my father smiled, shaking the hands of their long ago friends. “It’s good to see you again, Ryan. Diana.”
“When did you get back into town?” Ryan asked.
“Just last night,” my mother told him. “The kids were exhausted.”
I tried not to flinch when all attention was reflected towards me and my brother. “Oh my, Marie, is this Reed—and Bay? Goodness, they’ve grown up so much!” Hah, like she cared.
I had always thought it was a little creepy that Mrs. Watson looked like one of those Malibu Barbie kinds of women with her orange spray tans and dyed blonde hair—ironic how guys like her husband (and all other single men in Vienna) drooled over fake stuff like that. And it wasn’t like her daughter was any different.
“Diana, is that Lucy?” my mother asked, gaping at the “golden goddess” that had appeared next to her mother.
Well my good mood just took a dive out the stain glass windows.
Speaking of the devil—no pun intended.
I thought it was weird that the first thing I noticed about her was her height. Me being just over five feet, Lucy looked like a giant towering over me. Her usually blonde hair was mocha brown, her natural color I presumed, and perfectly flat ironed and laying across her shoulders. Just looking at her styled hair and fake tan, I could just tell she was a bitch. Gone was that little girl that used to play mermaids with me, swimming up and down over the ocean crests.
“Bay, is that you?” Lucy screeched, running up—more like fast walking because “running” was physically impossible in those six inch pumps—to pull me into a tight hug. If I wasn’t claustrophobic before, I was now. And please, before you judge, you should consider the face I was gagging in Brittany Spears perfume and choking in all the accessories Lucy was drowning in.
“Hey, Lucy,” I managed to cough out, “I haven’t seen you in forever.”
“Oh, I know,” she droned, “I can’t believe it’s been six years since I’ve seen you! Can you believe it?”
Great, she was one of those girls. The one that emphasized every other damn word.
“Yeah. It’s unbelievable.” I deadpanned, trying to get my point across that I didn’t want to talk to her. At all.
Lucy simply tilted her head back and laughed. “You’ve changed, Bay, you really have.”
“Look at you,” I observed. Might as well play along. “You’re, like, six feet now!”
“It’s the Mary Jane’s,” she explained to me, “they’re a pain up my ass but so adorbs, don’t you think, Bay?”
I nodded, glancing down at my sandals. “They’re very cute, Lucy.”
“Cute?” Lucy blinked. “Babe, puppies are cute. Babies are cute. These are sexy!”
And you’re wearing them to church? I thought to myself.
“Yeah, Lucy, they are amazing.” I said, biting back a giggle. True she did look good, if she was going to prom, not Sunday mass.
“I know right?” she marveled, plastering on one of those “Miss America” smiles.
“Ladies, hate to interrupt but the mass is about to start,” Mr. Watson said. “You guys can pick up after church is over.”
“Sounds great,” Lucy whispered. “We have so much to talk about.”
__________
Mass was mass, at least to me. Father Carter was still there, being the same boring priest as he was years ago. If it wasn’t for the crosses decorating every possible space and the fact that everyone was praying, I would’ve mistaken this for a prison chamber, especially with Hitler’s little incarnation sitting right beside me. I don’t know why but I had a really bad vibe about Lucy.
Once mass ended, both our family and the Watson’s filed out and made their way into the courtyard. Unfortunately, we had “so much to talk about”. Joy.
“David, Marie, why don’t you and the kids join us for lunch. We were planning on Maurice’s.” Mr. Watson told us.
“It’s still here?” my mother asked. “The kids used to love that place!”
“Oh yeah, it’s still a hot spot,” Mrs. Watson said. “So will you come?”
No, I thought. The last thing I wanted to do right now was eat lunch with the Watson’s. “Of course.” My mother said instead. “That sounds so nice, thank you.”
“What’s to thank us for? We have lots to catch up on.” Mr. Watson said.
Mrs. Watson nodded her head in agreement. “Ryan’s right, I’m afraid we lost touch. The only way we heard from you was the newspapers—you have become quite the famous bunch.”
Kill me. “I suppose we have,” My father laughed. “But yes, why don’t we follow you there. You all still park—”
“—at the strip mall,” Mr. Watson finished with a chuckle. “Nothing has changed after all the years, has it, David?”
“Not at all, we’ll see you there.”
…