The Believing Game (15 page)

Addison and I raced to the bedroom as fast as we could without stomping on the stairs. When we stepped inside, he picked me up and placed me carefully on the bed. “There. Now it's the best room in the house.”

“Should we check on Joshua and Hannah?”

A cloud passed over his face, briefly. “I'm sure they're asleep.”

“But we can just tap on the door. Really lightly.”

Addison stretched out across the bed and wrapped his hands around my waist. “Do you want to spend another half hour talking to the rest of the people in this house? Because I don't want to use up a single minute. There's a lot I want to do, but hearing about the problems of Hannah's traumatic past or Joshua's brilliant solutions to them isn't one of them.”

I guessed that meant sex trumped crazy cult leader. Good to know. Except. “I don't want to have sex tonight.” I blurted it out, shut my eyes, and waited for Addison to write me off.

“With me? Should I send Wes up here?” Addison dead-panned. When I opened my eyes, he was smiling up at the ceiling.

I sat up. “You don't mind?”

“A little. You'd probably mind if I didn't mind at all, right?” Right. I nodded. Exhaled. “I don't want to sound
sinister or anything. We've had enough premonitions tonight — I get that. But I have this strong feeling….” He tapped his index finger on his own chest. “It's rooted, you know?” I didn't know. I waited for Addison to explain. He turned then and looked right at me. “I believe that you and I have plenty of time, Greer.” He kissed me then and pulled back to add, “And I'm really happy about that.”

“Me too,” I said, wrapping my arms and legs around him.

“Are you going to torment me all night?”

“Yup.”

Addison slipped one hand under my shirt and trailed it along the waistband of my jeans. “All right. But then I get to torment you too.”

Addison taught me that there didn't have to be an either/or. We could lie in bed laughing, but that didn't mean our feelings weren't serious. He made my heart race with giddy happiness, but I also felt settled into this serene and simple joy.

That night, in the big iron bed, I told him, “You're such a giant. You make me feel dainty.”

“What the heck does that mean?”

“That's a good thing.”

“It doesn't sound particularly empowered.”

I leveled my gaze to him. “You do empower me. I mean it. I've learned so much since we met. About you and relationships and myself. Mostly it's from this — us figuring stuff out together. Learning. Three months ago, I was so screwed up, Add. And I'm still not perfect. But I'm better because of you.”

He cradled me close to him. “I think that you're a little bit perfect.” He kissed my forehead, my nose, my lips. “But I would also request that you should show me exactly how
empowered you are.” I giggled and the sound seemed to bounce off the walls.

We kept laughing. And we kept learning. “I want my hands to memorize you,” he said.

We made our way to sleep like that, and it was just right. No rush and no doubts.

 

We weren't the only ones who'd had an eventful night. At breakfast, it was clear something had happened between Sophie and Jared. They refused to look at each other. Instead Sophie smiled at her plate of eggs and Jared grinned stupidly at Joshua.

Joshua seemed normal. He didn't stride down the stairs with Hannah's severed head or anything. She came down for breakfast a little bit after everyone else got going, but I figured she just wanted to jump in the shower before we all started fighting over the hot water. Addison was superclingy, playing grab-ass the whole time I cooked up omelets. That earned some raised eyebrows and elbows from Wes and Jared, but that wasn't anything new.

Once Hannah came down and we all settled around the table, Joshua asked me to say grace. “I've never said grace for breakfast,” I protested.

“That's a shame, then. You've never thanked a day for its possibility.”

Addison winked at me as we all bowed our heads. “Thank you for the sunrise and for the sunset. And for all the moments we'll share today in between.” I moved to let go of Addison's and Joshua's hands, but Joshua held on. That meant I needed to keep talking. “We're grateful for the chance to spend time together and to share our lives with honesty and openness.”
Another squeeze. “Um … in order to achieve self-acceptance and wisdom.”

Then Joshua finally let me drop hands. “Another talent is revealed. She can do it all, can't she, Addison?”

Wes pretended to choke on his eggs. “What all can she do, Add?”

Joshua took a bite of breakfast and said, “Hmmm. That's what I'm talking about. Hell of a cook too. Have I told you yet today — Elizabeth is the perfect woman. You'd be a fool to ever fuck this up.”

“You hadn't mentioned it yet, but it's only eight thirty.” Addison yawned.

“Well, consider it said.” Joshua reached over and squeezed my wrist. “I tell him every day. How often do I tell you that?”

“Every day,” Addison repeated dutifully.

“He listens to me,” Joshua confided. “But it probably wouldn't matter. He's too smart not to notice for himself.” He dropped his voice. “Did he give you the night you deserved?”

I felt myself blush and shrank closer to Addison. “She's not raving about you, brother,” Joshua said. I kneed Addison.
Make him stop. Make him stop.
But Addison didn't speak up. He stood and asked Joshua, “You want more breakfast?”

Joshua raised his plate. “Yessir, brother.”

“Then you have to be nice. You need to be respectful.”

“I apologize, Greer. I was not aware you were such a delicate flower. What other delicate flowers we got growing in this sunlight?” Joshua studied each of us carefully. “Sophia, how was your first night back under this roof?”

Sophie considered her words carefully. “A little tough, Joshua. Thank you for asking. But it helped to be surrounded by friends.”

We all paused and sat in silence until Wes cracked, “I'll bet you were surrounded.”

She laughed at him. “What does that even mean? At least make sure the innuendo makes sense.”

“What are we doing today?” I started stacking plates.

“The gentlemen will clean up,” Joshua said. “Do we have the big jug of oil?”

“We do,” I said, hoping Joshua wouldn't make me drink it to prove I wasn't afraid to eat fats.

“We'll sit on the porch, then. We'll need a basin of warm water and some towels.”

Sophie said, “Sure thing. What's up?”

But Joshua wouldn't tell us until we were out on the deck. That's when he ordered me to wash his feet.

“Hannah's going to stay beside me until it's time to dry off my legs with the towel.” Joshua sat on a deck chair and rolled his pants up to his knees. I noticed ridiculous things — his leg hair was pretty sparse; it looked like he'd recently trimmed his toenails. Sophie knelt in front of me to set down the plastic tub. “It that warm water? I don't want to be scalded now.” Joshua actually looked fearful.

And Sophie looked absolutely flabbergasted. “It's warm. I didn't want to freeze you out either.”

“Do you know how mothers check their babies' bathwater?” Joshua asked Sophie, and then when she didn't respond, he said, “Elizabeth?”

“I don't know.” I'd never bathed a baby.

“Dip your elbow in. Or the inside of your wrist. Roll up your sleeve. Is it too hot?”

I shook my head no.

“Well, then it's safe to put someone else in there. How old
are you both — seventeen, sixteen? No one's taught you this? What do you do when you babysit?”

It didn't seem like the best time to remind Joshua that none of us had been considered trustworthy enough to care for small children. He set his feet in the tub and splayed his toes. “Did you bring out a cloth or a sponge?”

Sophie dunked the washcloth and soaped it up. I crouched down with her and poured more warm water from the pitcher into the basin over his toes. I wanted to giggle and also to retch at the same time. Feet disgust me, for one thing. But the whole scene felt creepy. Joshua must have noticed my discomfort. He told us, “My feet are actually quite clean. This is more symbolic than any kind of actual hygienic exercise.” I noticed he was holding Hannah's hand. “Washing a leader's feet signals deep love and respect.” Joshua leaned back and closed his eyes. “When you wash the feet, you support the journey — do you hear what I am saying?” None of us answered. The steam made wisps of my hair stick to my face. Joshua kept shifting and we'd filled the tub too high, so the water kept splashing. “Hannah?” His voice emerged forcefully.

“We hear you, Joshua,” she said. I glanced up and saw adoration stamped on her face. Part of me felt relieved. She'd previously reserved that look for Addison. But then the ick factor sunk in.

Joshua stretched and perched the soles of his feet on the edges of the basin. He nodded to Hannah to dry them and she knelt to do so. Sophie and I sat back and listened to Joshua tell us, “In the Gospel of John, we learn that Mary of Bethany washed the feet of Jesus and dried them with her hair. And Luke tells of a woman who was a sinner of Nain who bathed his feet in her tears. By
sinner
, Luke most likely
means ‘prostitute.'” Sophie bit her lip. “Of course I don't mean to imply that any of you ladies are prostitutes.” Joshua paused to think. “Although you'd have to admit you've all acted with serious disregard of the precious gift of your bodies.”

“Joshua, I don't get that.” It came out before I had the chance to rein myself back in. Joshua looked pleased at least to have inspired a reaction. “You talk about sex stuff with Addison and me a lot. You obviously support a physical relationship between us. You assigned us to sleep in a room together. Maybe I'm wrong, but I read into that.”

“You shouldn't read into things.”

“If I didn't, you'd accuse me of being too literal.”

“Of course I support a sex life between you and Addison.” I blushed. How very badass of me. “You love each other.” I nodded, awash in the glow of hearing someone else acknowledge that Addison loved me. “That differs from the open-for-business sign you hung above your twat before you met him.” It felt like he'd slapped me. He looked to Hannah and Sophie. “Am I wrong?” I waited for them to say yes. Or even just
gross
. But Hannah kept perfectly still. Sophie said, “It's made me happy to watch the two of them fall for each other because it seems so rare and special.” A very diplomatic dodge.

Joshua went on as if nothing happened. “According to the ritual, once the feet are washed, they must be rubbed with oil.”

“That's what the Wesson is for?” I would have laughed if I wasn't choking down my own vomit.

“Do you feel that touching my feet is beneath you?”

“Joshua, it's vegetable oil — you really want that on your feet? Couldn't it cause an infection?” Maybe there was a hospital staff, orderlies on some psych ward, searching all over
the place for their escaped patient. And I was in the mountains of Pennsylvania, greasing up his toes.

“Myrrh would be difficult to locate at the Stop & Shop.”

“Well, that's practical.” I held out my hands and Sophie opened the jug of vegetable oil. She tipped it to spill over my hands. The rest of it pooled in the basin, forming a slick puddle on the surface of the water. When my hands looked glossy, I took a deep breath and then started rubbing Joshua's feet. I made sure to work oil into the crevices on his heels. I kept my face still and blandly pleasant.

“Thank you, Elizabeth, for treating a ritual that holds importance for me with respect. Why would John tell us that the whore washed the feet of Christ?”

Sophie cocked her head. “Well, John didn't say that. You said Luke did. According to John, it was the sister of Lazarus.”

“Tell Hannah who Lazarus was.”

“Lazarus was one of Jesus Christ's first miracles. Jesus raised him from the dead.”

Hannah asked innocently, “So maybe Sophie should do it?”

I sucked in my breath a little and said, “It's okay. Out of the three of us, I bet I've come closest to Luke's lady.”

Sophie had heard, though. She could have nailed down Hannah with her glare. “Because that's going to be our afternoon activity. Joshua's going to resurrect Nick? Maybe then we'll all play a game of Scrabble?”

“I meant metaphorically. He's already got you thinking about your brother more.”

“Hannah —” I tried to position myself between the two of them, in case Sophie decided it would be easier to just choke her to death right there.

“He's got me talking about Nick more. There hasn't been a moment when I've forgotten about my brother.”

“Okay.” Hannah didn't sound convinced. She also didn't seem to understand how close she was to being drowned in vegetable oil.

“Seriously. That's a really crappy thing to even imply.”

“I wasn't implying anything. Perhaps I drew the wrong conclusion.”

“Hey.” I'd had enough of the squabbling. “None of us are actually biblical figures. That would be helpful to remember, right?” I looked up to Joshua, to see if my message had sunk in. I didn't need a savior. He needed to understand that. Joshua had tipped his face to the sky. He looked like he was soaking up the bright sun and enjoying the foot rub. He also seemed to relish watching us turn on one another.

I patted his feet and squeezed the pads of his two big toes. “That's it, little piggies.”

“Don't belittle yourself, Greer.” Sometimes I wished the twelve steps included a line about maintaining a sense of humor. “Sophia should clean the basin.”

“Thank you, sir,” Sophie snarked.