bothered her. But she sought to hide it, not wanting to appear desperate. She knew it was wrong to want a public affirmation of affection from him just to show up the other women. What was wrong with her? She'd never been like that before.
"Did you talk to your dad?" He asked the question without looking at her and again Naomi felt a sting of hurt. Did he not want other people to know he was talking to her?
"Yes," she said. "I'm not doing any public confession."
He nodded and said nothing.
Naomi stared at her shoes. Finally she could stand it no more.
"Eric, are you ashamed of me?"
"Of course not." His tone sounded offended, but still he didn't look at her.
"Are you sure? You're acting odd. So....formal."
"We're in church," he said. "I can't hug all over you here."
She felt herself grow angry. "I'm not asking you to hug all over me," she said. "But I don't expect you to act like I'm no different to you than any of these other women."
The organist had begun to play. Her father would be taking the pulpit soon.
"We'll talk later," he said.
"In your office?" she asked. "Where it's safe to hold me and kiss me in secret?"
A lump was rising in Naomi's throat. She blinked and looked away.
"Naomi," he began but she just shook her head.
She felt relieved when her father came out. The first part of the service passed in a blur. The opening hymn, announcements, prayer requests. Then the sermon began. The topic as the prodigal son.
Again Naomi could feel eyes on her as her father's voice rose in emotion. And she felt another sting of betrayal as he drew transparent parallels between her - without mentioning her by name - and the Biblical character who turned his back on his family before crawling back for forgiveness.
"Only a parent can understand the pain," he said. "And only a parent can forgive. Not every child has the strength to ask for forgiveness he or she needs. All we can do is pray that in time they will see the wisdom in fully acknowledging their sins."
Naomi couldn't help it. She cut her eyes to the side and saw Marcy staring right at her, an self-righteous smirk on her face.
"I'm out of here," she said.
"No." His hand clamped over hers. "You're staying."
"The hell I am."
"Naomi..." His voice held the threat of correction. She settled back in her seat, reluctantly. She was fuming now. Her father's voice was almost apologetic as he sent the unspoken message to his congregation. "I tried to get her to confess," it said. "But she's too sinful." And beside her there was Eric, his hands in his lap again, as he'd only taken hers long enough to make sure she stayed in her seat.
Her father was giving the altar call. She felt eyes on her again, boring into her back. Even Eric was staring at her.
She looked at him and her eyes were filled with tears.
"Do you feel the call?" he asked, his voice hopeful.
"I think I do," she said, nodding. Her voice fell to a whisper. "This has all been an act, hasn't it. You've just been getting close to me to keep me in line for my father. You're just like him. You'd like nothing more than for me to go up there and fall on my knees, even if I don't feel it."
She shook her head. "You people are all the same, you know that?"
She stood now before he could stop her and pushed from the pew. Her father's face was hopeful and for a brief moment she felt a sting of pity. He'd not been able to extract the confession certain members of his congregation wanted. Getting her to the altar was the next best thing, the consolation prize. And he thought she had her. But instead of going to the front she turned and walked down the aisle and out past the puzzled or smirking faces of the other church members.
"Just as I am..." The words of the song that drew guilty Christians to the altar chased her in the opposite direction now.
"Naomi!"
She did not turn at the sound of her name.
"Naomi!"
"Stay away from me!" She didn't look back as she picked up her pace.
"Naomi!" His voice was closer. She
"Did you talk to your dad?" He asked the question without looking at her and again Naomi felt a sting of hurt. Did he not want other people to know he was talking to her?
"Yes," she said. "I'm not doing any public confession."
He nodded and said nothing.
Naomi stared at her shoes. Finally she could stand it no more.
"Eric, are you ashamed of me?"
"Of course not." His tone sounded offended, but still he didn't look at her.
"Are you sure? You're acting odd. So....formal."
"We're in church," he said. "I can't hug all over you here."
She felt herself grow angry. "I'm not asking you to hug all over me," she said. "But I don't expect you to act like I'm no different to you than any of these other women."
The organist had begun to play. Her father would be taking the pulpit soon.
"We'll talk later," he said.
"In your office?" she asked. "Where it's safe to hold me and kiss me in secret?"
A lump was rising in Naomi's throat. She blinked and looked away.
"Naomi," he began but she just shook her head.
She felt relieved when her father came out. The first part of the service passed in a blur. The opening hymn, announcements, prayer requests. Then the sermon began. The topic as the prodigal son.
Again Naomi could feel eyes on her as her father's voice rose in emotion. And she felt another sting of betrayal as he drew transparent parallels between her - without mentioning her by name - and the Biblical character who turned his back on his family before crawling back for forgiveness.
"Only a parent can understand the pain," he said. "And only a parent can forgive. Not every child has the strength to ask for forgiveness he or she needs. All we can do is pray that in time they will see the wisdom in fully acknowledging their sins."
Naomi couldn't help it. She cut her eyes to the side and saw Marcy staring right at her, an self-righteous smirk on her face.
"I'm out of here," she said.
"No." His hand clamped over hers. "You're staying."
"The hell I am."
"Naomi..." His voice held the threat of correction. She settled back in her seat, reluctantly. She was fuming now. Her father's voice was almost apologetic as he sent the unspoken message to his congregation. "I tried to get her to confess," it said. "But she's too sinful." And beside her there was Eric, his hands in his lap again, as he'd only taken hers long enough to make sure she stayed in her seat.
Her father was giving the altar call. She felt eyes on her again, boring into her back. Even Eric was staring at her.
She looked at him and her eyes were filled with tears.
"Do you feel the call?" he asked, his voice hopeful.
"I think I do," she said, nodding. Her voice fell to a whisper. "This has all been an act, hasn't it. You've just been getting close to me to keep me in line for my father. You're just like him. You'd like nothing more than for me to go up there and fall on my knees, even if I don't feel it."
She shook her head. "You people are all the same, you know that?"
She stood now before he could stop her and pushed from the pew. Her father's face was hopeful and for a brief moment she felt a sting of pity. He'd not been able to extract the confession certain members of his congregation wanted. Getting her to the altar was the next best thing, the consolation prize. And he thought she had her. But instead of going to the front she turned and walked down the aisle and out past the puzzled or smirking faces of the other church members.
"Just as I am..." The words of the song that drew guilty Christians to the altar chased her in the opposite direction now.
"Naomi!"
She did not turn at the sound of her name.
"Naomi!"
"Stay away from me!" She didn't look back as she picked up her pace.
"Naomi!" His voice was closer. She
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