Once in a Blue Moon (25 page)

Lifting a hand, he
caressed her face with the back of his fingers. “Can you do me a
favor? Let’s enjoy our timeout from real life for a while, okay?
Really have fun?”

Her expression was soft
and she nodded slowly. “Just make sure you get me home when the
time comes, okay?”

He grinned and gave her
a swift kiss. “Count on it.”

Melissa’s head jerked
forward and she almost fell off the bench. She suppressed a moan
and lifted a hand to massage the kink out of the back of her
neck.

“...he said unto them,
Give place; for the maid is not dead...”

She’d fallen asleep in
church. Again. She couldn’t seem to stay awake. It was a good thing
they were sitting on the back row where no one could notice.

“...but sleepeth. And
they laughed him to scorn...”

Melissa glanced at
Richard who seemed to be enjoying the boring sermon. For some
reason there was a look of amusement on his face.

On the other side of
him, Jessica and Jeremy were playing a game of rock, paper,
scissors and next to them, so were Sully, Henry and Jed. She rolled
her eyes. It was like sitting next to five children.

She studied Jessica’s
newly finished outfit for a moment, a feeling of pride filling her.
She’d done a good job on the dress. Jessica had received several
stares.

Melissa yawned. It was
just so hot in the clapboard building. Even with the side windows
and back door open, there wasn’t much of a breeze. Surely the
sermon would end soon?

She shifted on the hard
wood bench. The pew was killing her back, butt and--since there was
no room to stretch out--her legs, as well. At least Richard could
sit with his thighs apart. She glanced around, looking for a clock.
How much longer could this last?

A huge bumblebee-sized
fly buzzed past, and she swatted at it, missed, and watched it move
up the aisle that divided the room. It landed briefly on a lady’s
needlepoint handbag, then headed to the front of the room to pass
the podium and finally settle on the organ.

The minister’s
middle-aged wife sat on the bench in front of the musical
monstrosity, smiling and nodding at everything her husband said.
Yeah, right. She was probably daydreaming about canning peaches or
something equally exciting. Anything had to beat listening to her
husband’s monotone.

If Melissa had thought
about it, she would have expected a fire-and-brimstone style sermon
in this era. Not so. Eeyore would be scintillating next to this
guy. But many in the congregation seemed interested in what he had
to say. One woman dabbed at tears and seemed touched by the
message, or perhaps she simply had something in her eye.

Melissa yawned again.
Another, smaller fly grabbed her attention and she watched it
lazily buzz around the heads of the congregation, passing a
matronly woman and her husband. One of their kids, a teenage boy,
made a grab at it, but it flew out one of the side windows. Melissa
wished she could escape so easily. She looked outside and, noticing
headstones, grimaced. There were people buried right outside the
window? Trapped for eternity listening to insipid sermons? Tough
luck.

She leaned forward to
try and stretch her back, and as if on cue, Sully, Jed and Henry
all leaned forward to grin. Did they honestly think sharing their
pew made them all buddies? She leaned back so Richard blocked their
view of her.

A child hung over the
back of the bench in front to stare. About four years old, she was
darling: frilly dress, ringlets, chocolate brown eyes,
and...apparently a nose-picking problem. Melissa quickly looked
away.

She needed air. It was
stifling in the church. Her back felt damp and her legs were
sticking together. She eyed the hymn book in front of her and
wondered if it would be considered sacrilege to tear pages out to
fan herself.

“...the town picnic.
Husbands, think about what you do. Your children and wives depend
on you to stay sober and in possession of your faculties. And you
need to set a good example for the youth. Now, my wife will be
organizing the potluck, so if any of you ladies...”

Yada, yada, yada. The
minister continued to drone on. She just wanted church to be over
so they could get out of this oven. Her gaze wandered and she
noticed a fashionably dressed young woman in a nearby pew, eying
her, staring at her hair and dress. Melissa felt her cheeks heat
even more, if that were possible and wished her unfashionable
appearance didn’t matter to her.

She studied the
clothing some of the other women wore and tried to make herself
feel better. Truly, she couldn’t believe the appalling lack of
fashion sense displayed by the church-goers. Pleats? Drooping
poufs? Overskirts with ties? These fashion disasters were their
Sunday best? Ha! Their finery? Ha, ha!

But she had to admit
they weren’t all horrible. The dress on the young brunette two rows
up and across the aisle was interesting. A printed linen and green
broadcloth, the blouse was fitted with a yoke at the shoulders.
Two-piece sleeves and a round collar finished the slimming, elegant
look. Not bad.

And if Melissa
remembered correctly, which she did, the slender woman with the
lace-accented blouse had a skirt that sported front drapes
overlapping in the center and a bouffant back. The overall effect
was very stylish for this backward era.

Melissa glanced over at
Jessica’s newly finished dress again. The pale-green jersey was
perfect for her fair, blonde coloring and the fashionable dress was
more stylish than anything on display.

But still, it was a
child’s dress and not likely to capture the attention of any of the
ladies present. It was too bad Melissa couldn’t get hold of some
more material. She’d like to create a design that did away with the
bustle altogether.

The fat-butt look was
definitely on its way out, and she’d like to be the first to
instigate the upcoming style in this backward town. Get some flared
or ripple skirts going. Or perhaps a French fan skirt. Maybe a
puffed sleeve or two, just to stay in style. Or a loose-fitting
jacket. Or a blouse with a diamond shaped belt.

But why stop there? If
she sharpened the collar on a Victorian bodice, or took a wide lace
collar with beads and fitted some twentieth-century shoulder pads
in the sleeves she could--

Melissa sucked in a
breath of hot air. What was she doing designing nineteenth century
dresses in her head? Ugh! She was being contaminated by this place
and she wouldn’t stand for it! She turned her gaze to the front of
the room and pictured the minister’s wife wearing a slinky red
backless dress with spaghetti straps and a slit up the side.

She smiled, imagining
plump thighs encased in black silk stockings and high heels. And
what if...she pictured the snug-fitting torso of the dress with the
long puff sleeves and collar of the upcoming 1890's styles.

Ugh! It was happening
again! Apparently the heat had fried her brain and she needed to
get out of there fast! She needed to...stop being so intrigued by
the idea. If she used black silk for the modern-looking bodice, and
double puffed the sleeves and designed a bell skirt with an A-line
and a seam down the center back...she fought the incoming ideas for
a moment longer, then mentally shrugged. When in Rome, right? At
least the ideas were keeping her awake.

* * *

About
fifteen minutes later, the reverend finally closed with a
prayer.
Finally
.

“
Amen
.”
Melissa quickly stood and, since she was in the back, slipped out
the door first. Blessed cool air. She hurried down the steps and
crossed the grass to get out of everyone’s way.

Stopping beside the
white picket fence under a shade tree, she stood close to the gate
and waited for her family to appear. They needed to get home as
quickly as possible and it was a long walk so they’d better get
started. She still had supper to make and okay, yes, she was
feeling a bit self-conscious in her freshly washed and pressed but
still ugly dress. She wanted out of there.

Glancing toward the
main street, she breathed in the fragrant flowers planted under the
fence and also the smell of Sunday dinner cooking nearby. There
were farm wagons, buggies and horses parked in front of the fence,
up and down the road, and in the field across the street.

Sometimes, this whole
living-in-the-past thing seemed more real than her life back home,
almost as if her old life were simply a dream. A scary thought, and
one she didn’t want to pursue. She turned toward the church again,
and the sun shining off the white steepled church momentarily
blinded her.

The congregation poured
out of the building and started to form groups on the lawn.
Red-faced farmers, shopkeepers, women and children, all freed from
the long meeting, chattered and smiled in the warm summer air.
Finally, Richard and the kids appeared.

She lifted a hand to
get their attention, but Richard seemed to want to talk to everyone
around him. He finally noticed her, but instead of coming over,
beckoned her to where he stood by the reverend. Reluctantly, she
started forward. She glanced around for Jessica and Jeremy, but
they’d disappeared.

As she wove through
groups of people, Curly Jenkins, immaculately dressed, intercepted
her, smiled widely and put a hand to his hat in greeting. “Ma’am.
Nice to see you.”

Melissa, feeling
dowdier than ever, lifted her chin. “Uh, yes, thanks.” She nodded
stiffly and hurried to Richard.

Richard drew her under
his arm. “This is my wife, Melissa. Melissa, the Reverend and Mrs.
Wright.”

Melissa smiled politely
at the middle-aged couple. “It’s nice to meet you both.”

Reverend Wright took
one of her hands in both of his. “Welcome. Welcome. We’re so glad
to have you here.”

His wife smiled. “I
hope you’re all settled in?”

“Yes, thank you.” At
the sincere and warm welcome, she felt slightly guilty about her
impressions of the sermon.

More people came over,
stared at her and Richard curiously, talked to the reverend and
shook his hand. A few introductions were made.

Mrs. Wright sidled
closer. “Tell me, do you cook, Mrs. Kendal?”

“Not very well. I’m
learning, though.”

“Well, about the
potluck. Perhaps...”

Melissa watched Richard
chatting and willed him to look her way. She wanted to leave. The
crowd was milling around on the lawn, and as she half-listened to
Mrs. Wright, she searched for the kids. “Excuse me, but I haven’t
seen my children.”

Mrs. Wright stopped
talking to glance around, a frown forming on her face. “I sincerely
hope they aren’t with those Flynn boys. They’ve been known to get
into some trouble. Perhaps they’re around back? Come on, I’ll go
with you.”

Melissa quickly
followed the reverend’s wife around the side of the building. The
last thing she needed on her plate right now were her children
falling in with the bad crowd in town. In the future she was
already having to deal with Jessica and her gothic leanings; she
didn’t need trouble here too.

On her left, she passed
the minister’s home, a carriage house with a buggy parked inside, a
huge garden and some chickens in a pen.

Mrs. Wright spoke over
her shoulder. “You have no idea some of the mischief these boys get
into. They aren’t bad boys, but there is a streak of the devil in
them, that’s for sure.”

Great. This she didn’t need. Melissa wanted to separate her
children from these hooligans
immediately
.

They rounded the
corner.

Mrs.
Wright gasped. “I knew it.
Boys
!
You
know better than that
!
Get away from there
!”

Holding her breath,
Melissa looked around Mrs. Wright to see what trouble the children
had gotten into. Smoking? Drinking? Some kind of drug? Cruelty to
animals? Who knew what trouble these kids...

She blinked.

They were down in the
dirt...playing marbles?

She blinked again, then
choked on a laugh as the reverend’s wife moved forward and
continued to scold them, her arms waving wildly as she tried to
shoo the children away from the game. The boys, anywhere from five
up to about fourteen, looked guilty and scared as they snatched up
marbles from the dirt circle and started to scatter. A few girls,
including Jessica, watched warily.

Melissa bit the inside
of her cheek.

Marbles.

She could handle
marbles.

Mrs. Wright turned back
to Melissa, her hands on her hips.

“You see what I
mean?”

Melissa tried really
hard not to laugh. She nodded. Swallowed. “Disgraceful.” She choked
on the word.

Mrs. Wright nodded,
then hurried to chase some of the boys around the building.

Throwing Mrs. Wright an
irritated glare, Jeremy circled around to where Melissa stood.
“Jeeze, what’d we do?”

Melissa giggled. “You
have obviously joined a vicious gang. Would you like me to sew you
and your new friends some leather jackets? What are your
colors?”

“Perhaps you need to
learn to sew before making such an offer.”

Melissa turned to see
the red-haired seamstress from town looking down her nose at
her.

The seamstress had
opened the top off a barrel that was set beneath the eaves at the
back wall of the church. She placed a few items of clothing inside
the drum. “Still wearing your beautifully made dress, I see. This
barrel is for the needy. Perhaps you could look through it and find
something new for yourself to wear? Perhaps even a hat?”