The Perfect Christian Read Online Free PDF Page B

around the edges, a.k.a. roughnecks, has yet to be figured out. Or was it the other way around? Was it the bad boys that attracted the good girls? Although the vote may still be out on that one, it was as clear as a bell that when it came to Doreen and Willie, the attraction was mutual. No one, not even Doreen’s parents, could deny that—try as they might.
    â€œThe oldest of all three girls, what kind of example do you think you’re setting for your sisters?” Doreen’s mother rubbed her tiny baby bump that six months later would turn out to be yet another beautiful, bouncing baby girl for the Hamilton family.
    Doreen just stood in the kitchen looking down at the ugly green designs on the linoleum kitchen floor. She could not figure out for the life of her why shades of green were such a popular décor color. She looked up and around the kitchen at the chipping mint-green paint on the walls.
    â€œChild, are you paying me any type of never-mind?” Mrs. Hamilton asked her eldest daughter.
    â€œYes, Mama, I’m listening,” Doreen lied, because she wasn’t. Why did she need to? She’d heard that same old song and dance a thousand times already. She’d heard it for over six months now, ever since old Willie boy introduced himself to her one night while she was walking home from the Jaimesons’ after babysitting their little one.
    He’d been hanging out at one of his boy’s houses after helping him and his young wife move into their new place. After a long day’s work, Willie and the fellas were hanging out on the front porch eating fried chicken and drinking beer, the payment for their labor.
    Doreen had been able to hear the lively bunch long before she ever saw them. Their language, that’s what had gotten her attention. Their mouths were just as foul as week old collard greens left out in the sun in the summertime . . . with a hunk of salt pork right in the middle of the pot. Doreen had thought their breaths had probably smelled like it too. Stinking words such as the ones they were using could only come from a stinking source.
    Disgusted and no longer willing to allow the men’s words to infiltrate her ear ducts, Doreen began to hum song 104 from the church hymn book. The closer she got to the men, the louder she had to hum until eventually she was singing. Even though she’d sung in the church choir since she could remember, Doreen wasn’t the best of singers. As a matter of fact, she’d never had a true desire to even sing in the choir. In her opinion, she’d chosen the worse of two evils when her parents made it clear to her that the Hamilton children would do something in the church, be it ushering or singing in the choir.
    Doreen’s younger sisters had chosen to usher, reasoning there weren’t weekly rehearsals for ushers, so they didn’t have to worry about giving up yet another one of their evenings to the Lord. They already gave up Tuesdays for evening devotional, Wednesdays for Bible Study, and then both Sunday mornings and evenings for the two services. Giving up Thursday evenings to rehearse songs that they could sing right from the church pew was out of the question.
    It was no biggie for Doreen, though. Actually, she looked at it as an opportunity to get out of the house and away from her nagging siblings. All they wanted to do was to sit up under Doreen and be in her business. They didn’t mean to be so annoying to Doreen. The girls were just so fascinated by their oldest sister, that they watched her every move. They wanted to walk like she walked, talk like she talked, and dress like she dressed. Their parents had indeed put their firstborn on a pedestal. She was the mold that all the Hamilton children would have to fit.
    At first, Doreen didn’t feel any pressure in having to be the perfect child. She liked it. It made her parents proud. She could see it in their eyes every time they looked at her.