Back to the Garden (2 page)

Libby felt her father’s hand on her hip. “Lib? You wanna go to bed?”

“I’ll sleep out here,” she mumbled and rolled away from them. Her heart was thudding hard in her chest.

She heard her father cleaning up, turning off the TV.

“I’ll show you Libby’s room,” her father said, his voice low so as not to disturb her, she knew.

“She has nightmares?” Libby felt her mother’s hand in her hair and tried not to wince away. “About what?”

“You,” her father replied softly. “Leaving her.”

—

“You don’t really go to church—
naked
?” Kim came out wearing another lovely sundress, this one a light, dusty blue with green flowers Libby grudgingly admired.

“We do everything naked,” Ed reminded her with a smile. “And if you’re coming, clothing isn’t an option.”

Kim looked back and forth between her daughter and soon-to-be ex-husband, her mouth working but nothing coming out.

“Hurry.” Libby glanced at the clock. “Daddy has to be there early.”

Her mother shook her head, blinking a few times. “Ed... you don’t really preach up there…I mean...with all your...dangly bits just flopping around...?”

Libby raised her eyebrows as she looked over at her father, but he wasn’t looking at her.

“I do have a podium,” he admitted, looking sheepish. In her whole life Libby had never seen him look that way.

“Maybe I should just... stay here.” Kim cleared her throat and looked toward the door.

Libby folded her arms over her breasts. “You said you’d give it a chance.”

Ed looked between the two women, like he was waiting for something.

Kim sighed, kicking off her shoes. “Okay. You know what? Fine.”

Both of them watched while she unbuttoned her sundress, starting at the top. The row of buttons went all the way down to the hem, but she didn’t have to undo them that far. She slipped the fabric off her shoulders, sliding it down over her slim hips and stepping out of it.

She didn’t look at them as she folded the dress carefully and laid it across the back of a chair. Libby looked at her mother’s body for the first time since she was very little, noticing all those things familiar to her—her mother’s freckled shoulders, the long curve of her waist and slope of her hip, her slender, long legs—all of those things Libby had inherited from her.

“David would kill me...” her mother said under her breath as she unclasped the front hook of her bra, hesitating, her eyes shifting toward Ed before she let it fall, her breasts spilling free. Libby knew those nipples, the puffy pink areola, the round cherry tips—they were just like her own. When she looked over at her father, she saw a light in his eyes she’d never seen before while he watched her mother’s breasts swaying as she bent to retrieve her bra.

Kim seemed to sense his gaze, too, and turned a little away from Ed and more toward her daughter as she hooked the top elastic band of her panties with her thumbs, sliding the white material down over her hips. Libby saw with surprise that her mother was shaved completely smooth between her legs. Her father had his eyes closed, a look of pain on his face.

“Ok.” Kim tossed her bra and panties onto her dress, looking over at Libby. “There. Happy?”

Ed cleared his throat, holding his hand out to her. “You’ll actually feel more comfortable this way than you would in clothes. Trust me.”

“It’s true,” Libby agreed, taking her mother’s other hand as they headed out the door into the sunshine, the three of them as naked as the day they were born. Kim seemed to be trying to hide between them. Libby held both of their hands, swinging them as they walked.

The sea of bodies grew as they got closer, every age, size, shape and color merging as they went through the double doors. Libby felt her mother’s hand tighten in hers, noticing how warm and damp it was.

“Are you ok?” Ed leaned past Libby’s head and whispered into her mother’s ear.

Kim glanced at him, her eyes a little wide. “I think so. How many people live here?”

“One thousand, five hundred and twenty-nine,” Libby rattled off. She did most of her father’s paperwork.

“They won’t all be here today.” Ed laughed, seeing Kim’s face go pale, the freckles across her nose, just like Libby’s, suddenly appearing more prominent.

“That’s—a lot of people.” Kim’s gaze moved over the couple standing next to them, two young men holding hands.

Ed just smiled at her when she stared up at him in confusion. “We’re all equal in God’s eyes.”

“That’s the best part,” Libby explained as they got to the doors. “You can be who you really are.”

“Is that really a good idea?” her mother murmured.

The pews were already mostly full, but Libby led her mother to the front row where there was always a section reserved for the preacher’s family and friends. She felt her mother’s eyes moving over the sea of flesh and, when they were seated, Libby turned to her.

“You get used to it,” Libby whispered, smiling behind her at Mrs. McCallister, who came completely naked like everyone else, but still insisted on wearing her hats. This one was pink with two peacock feathers in the side.

“Libby, this is so crazy,” her mother whispered back, shaking her head as she crossed her arms over her bare breasts. “Naked in church?”

“This is how God made us,” Libby countered. “Daddy always says we can each choose to stay in The Garden of Eden. That’s why he named our community that.”

“I know.” Kim frowned, her eyes moving over her daughter’s face. “I just...I think it’s kind of a delusion to think you can go back to the garden...”

“You’re already here.” Libby smiled, touching her mother’s arm. “This is
The Garden of Eden.
”

Their conversation was interrupted when Ed stepped up to the podium in front, and Libby saw her mother’s jaw drop when their choir began to file in, standing on the risers in their birthday suits and facing the largest congregation of Christian nudist community members in the country. Kim hid her face behind her hand for most of the service.

—

“Where is she?” Libby asked as she came into the kitchen and saw her father sitting alone at the table with coffee and the paper.

“Out.” He shrugged, watching her pour a bowl of cereal. “Are you ready for tomorrow night?”

Now it was Libby’s turn to shrug. “Do I have to be?”

“Kind of hard for the preacher’s daughter to skip it, babe.” He smiled. “One night a year to get dressed up and go dancing. Doesn’t it sound like fun?”

“Like going to the dentist.” She gave him a grim smile, pouring milk in her cereal.

He laughed. “Come on, Lib. It isn’t that bad.”

She curled up in the chair next to him, milk dribbling down her chin as she chewed. He was watching her and she sighed. “Do you want to hear something incredibly stupid?”

He raised his eyebrows, waiting.

“I don’t have anything to wear.” She bit her lip, seeing his smile, and shook her head. “Don’t you dare laugh.”

His face worked and he cleared his throat. “I’m not laughing.”

“You were thinking about it.” She took another bite of cereal. “Sara’s had a dress for this stupid dance for a month. I kept meaning to get one...but then
she
said she was coming...”

Her father sighed, sipping his coffee and watching her. Libby continued to spoon her cereal in, chewing thoughtfully in the silence.

“I have an idea.” Ed put his cup down on the table and stood, holding his hand out to her. “Come on.”

She followed him into his room and sat on the bed while he opened his night table drawer. Curious, she watched him remove a small key and unlock the chest that sat at the foot of the bed. It had never been opened, as far as she knew.

“After your mother left, I put these here,” he said, the lid creaking open. “She never asked for any of it back...and I couldn’t bear to...”

Libby crawled to the end of the bed, peering over the side. “Oh, Daddy.”

She moved to kneel in front of the chest, her fingers running over the various materials, soft, silky, velvety, that lined the cedar. Libby lifted one of the dresses, the softest, pale yellow with a purple paisley pattern.

“It’s so pretty.” She stood and held it against her body.

Ed’s eyes swept over her. “Try it on.”

Libby lifted the dress over her head, slowly pulling it down over her hips. The dress was a silky yet stretchy kind of material that clung to her upper body, the bodice plunging and cinched, crossed with two thin bands of purple outlining her breasts. The spaghetti straps left her freckled shoulders bare and, while the top hugged her, the skirt flowed and swirled around her legs when she walked, the hem falling a little higher than mid-thigh.

She was lost in her own world, looking in the mirror over the dresser, turning to see herself from all angles at once. Finally, she turned to her father and saw that he was pale, as if he’d seen a ghost.

“Daddy?” She frowned, turning again. “Don’t you like me?”

He shook his head, as if to clear it and his voice was hoarse. “You’re stunning. You look so much like your mother...”

He came up behind her, looking at her in the mirror, and her tummy clenched when she met his eyes. She had never seen him look at her that way before. His hands moved over the silky skin of her shoulders, fingering the thin straps, straightening, his eyes moving down the front of the dress, how it hugged her breasts, her slender waist.

“When did you grow up?” he murmured, smiling as he met her eyes again. Clearing his throat, he went on. “I think your mother left some...underthings... You might need a...bra?”

Libby went to the chest, sifting through, finding a lacy black bra and a pair of soft, mesh panties. She flushed as she touched them, looking up at her father.

“These?”

He nodded, sitting on the bed. “I think those will work.”

She felt his eyes on her as she slipped the dress off her shoulders. He was watching her like he’d watched her mother slipping her clothes off, and Libby took her time, carefully laying the dress on the bed before bending to step into the panties. They felt foreign to her, the material going on like a whisper over her flesh.

“Do I have to wear a bra?” She held it up and made a face. “I never wear these things.”

“I think so,” he replied, looking at the dress.

She sighed, putting her arms through the straps, bringing the cups around front and working at the clasp. They were small hooks and eyes and her tongue snuck out to the corner of her mouth as she concentrated on fastening them.

“Daddy, can you help?” She rolled her eyes. “I can’t get it.”

Her father nodded, crooking his finger and she went to him, standing between his thighs and offering the front of the bra to him so he could clasp it.

“I’m not much better at these,” he confessed, his big fingers working between her breasts.

Libby held her breath, feeling his palms brushing over the black silk and lace, making her nipples stand up involuntarily in response. She worked hard at not showing her embarrassment, feeling a tingle between her legs.

“There,” he said, peering at the two hooks. “I think that’s it.”

“Thank you.” Libby adjusted the thin straps, the lace edge framing the soft fullness of her breasts, now pressed up in the fabric.

Her eyes met her father’s and she swallowed, seeing his gaze moving over the curves and swells of her body covered in black silk and lace. Her nipples were hard, and he looked back and forth between them as they poked out against the material.

His hands spanned her waist, pulling her close and kissing her navel, just like he used to when she was little—except this time, it was different. His hitching breath, the heat of his lips, the way his hands gripped her sides, all made her feel weak and dizzy and aching for something.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Libby asked softly, turning away from him and toward the mirror.

She put her hands on her hips and arched her back, angling her bare midriff as she looked at herself in the mirror. She touched her tummy, her eyes moving over the smooth skin of her legs, turning so she could see the back and how the mesh panties curved over the rounded swell of her behind.

“It is,” her father agreed, clearing his throat. His eyes still followed her hands as she adjusted the straps and, looking over at him, Libby saw something that shocked her—he had an erection.

“Excuse me for a moment.” He didn’t cover himself, but he stood quickly and went out the door and down the hall to the bathroom.

She stared after him, and then looked back at her reflection in the mirror, the way the crotch of the panties cupped her mound, how the bra pressed her breasts up and together.

She pulled the dress over her head and found a pair of black strappy shoes tucked away in the corner of the chest that she put on and practiced walking in. Wobbly and unsure, she paced back and forth in front of the mirror.

“Libby,” her father said from the doorway and she turned, startled. He was flushed, but she noticed his erection was gone.

She smiled, gathering her hair up and putting it on top of her head. “What do you think?”

He took a deep breath and let it out with a shake of his head. “I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Daddy!” she admonished, blushing and letting her hair fall to look in the mirror. “Am I really?”

“Yes,” he breathed, closing his eyes for a moment and then opening them to smile at her. “There’s only one other woman in the world who has ever taken my breath away like you do in that dress.”

Libby felt something small and tight turn over in her lower belly as she walked, a little unsteady, into his arms, pressing herself against him and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she whispered. “I love you.”

—

“Well, I suppose my old dress is better than no dress,” Kim remarked, fingering the material and glancing over at Libby. “Does it fit you?”

“She looks just like you did in it at that age, Kim,” Ed replied, coming into the living room with two diet Cokes and handing her one. “I couldn’t believe it.”

“So are you coming?” Libby asked as her mother sat at the other end of the sofa.