Jesus Freaks: Sins of the Father

“Yeah,” Mom snorts, “they do seem nice.”

“Behave,” I beg with a slight irritation in my voice. “They are nice.”

Naturally, I leave out the bit about our conversation surrounding my salvation, or the difference between “real” CU guys and those farmed in for athletic purposes. That has little to do with how nice they are as people, though I don’t have the energy to enter that debate with my mother—who would undoubtedly assert that how people act all the time, and everything they say, goes into their “niceness” equation.

Mom puts up her hands, lifting her eyebrows in amused defense. “Sorry. So, tell me what’s been going on.”

Where do I start?

While I talk with her at least once a week on the phone, there’s a lot that goes unsaid in our conversations. My feelings about CU, about God, and about Roland are the top three on that list. And each one is bigger than the last, with no good starting point for discussion.

I decide that the easiest hill to climb is my contentment with Carter University. I assure Mom that while I know my upper level sociology classes will likely have huge moral roadblocks for me, the classes I have now are pretty basic. Even the Old Testament class. “Like Sunday school,” I tell her. That the students are welcoming—especially my RA—seems to settle some worried tension around mom’s eyes. Dan nods in approval when I discuss the “non-traditional” CU students. “Not your garden variety Holy Rollers,” I assure him, pulling on his terminology.

“I think it’s great you’re settling in, Kennedy.” Dan says when I’ve finished my impromptu CU plug.

Mom twists her lips. “I’m happy you’re comfortable.”

“Even if you’re not?” I challenge.

Her shoulders rise in a huge breath. “Even if I’m not. You’re no less willful than I was at your age, so I’m not sure what I was thinking trying to tamper with your desires to come here. Anyway,” she lets out a long exhale, “what’s on the schedule for today? I heard your roommates mention an assembly?”

Oh no.

I’ve assumed that her not discussing the assembly with me had to do with the keynote speaker. Roland. I haven’t brought it up, because in WASP families, you don’t bring up the uncomfortable things. You just go through them side-by-side and never talk about them again. Her question makes me a little dizzy. I look at Dan, whose serious and somewhat apologetic expression suggests he knows exactly what the next words to come out of my mouth will be.

Why didn’t he tell her?

No, why didn’t you tell her?

“Uh…” I clear my throat and lift my chin. I have to lift my chin when I’m feeling unsure of my own emotions. It helps balance me. “It’s a welcome assembly sort of thing. Roland is the keynote speaker.”

I watch my mom’s chin move north about two inches while she swallows hard. The last time she lifted her chin toward me was when I told her I was coming to CU. The time before that was when I told her I was applying. Before that, when I told her I wanted to meet with Roland by myself.

Here we are again. At a lifted-chin standoff regarding Roland Abbot. I don’t move my eyes from her, but notice from the corner of my eye that Dan is cracking his knuckles. Something I’m sure the orthopedic surgeon tells his own patients not to do.

“Well then.” Mom clears her throat and rises to her feet with a faint smile. “I guess we better get going. We don’t want to be late.”

She leads the way out of my room and Dan puts a hand on the small of my back. I decide to put my suspicion of his knowledge surrounding the keynote speaker behind me and lead my parents across the stunning campus to the grand lecture hall.

I’ll deal with him later.





CHAPTER SIXTEEN


Need You Now


After welcoming remarks from the school president and the Dean of Students, my pulse beings to race. I had no idea two years ago when I started researching CU that this—my freshman year—would basically be the Year of Roland at CU. He was tapped to give the freshman address, and now the keynote speech for Parents’ Weekend?