The Queer Enterprise

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I held my head low with my eyes closed as the pastor spoke. Everything he said ran through my brain twice before being stuffed in long-term memory.

I went to Church every Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Only two days out of the week sometimes I did not go. It could be six in the morning or eight at night and I would be here, accompanying my family. My father, mother, younger sister, and grandfather. Grandmother only attended some Sundays, which would cause heated arguments when we got back home usually before, during, or after our meal.

"Everyone, may the rest of your day be blessed." I heard the pastor say and I lift my head, opening my eyes only to find a pair looking back at mine.

Or well that's what I had thought. Turns out they were not looking at me. I glanced away from their light colored eyes, as my family began to grab their things and get up. I began to do the same, only for my younger sister to rush me by walking on my heels. I would have rolled my eyes, but I was in the house of the Lord, and would rather not do wrong. Besides if mother caught me, sure enough, I would have got a love tap on the back of the head.

As I walked trying to stay close to my family, I once again felt a small bit of pain in my heels. I whipped around to tell my sister to stop, only it wasn't her.

It was the girl I had seen before with light brown eyes and brown curly hair, a bit shorter than most girls’ hair I saw at church but still looked cute on her. My face soften at her appearance and I smiled.

"Hello miss, I haven't seen you here before." I said and her eyes averted from mine, looking anywhere but at me.

"O-Oh well, I just started going here." She mumbled softly.

"Welcome then." I said showing my teeth in my smile. "You look gorgeous by the way."

Her pale complexion soon darken to a shade of pink. I couldn't help but laugh. And it wasn't at her in a rude way, but in a your cute kind of way. She seemed to relax and her eyes finally met mine.

"Thank you." She said and I heard a faint voice calling my name, which snapped me out of my thoughts realizing it was my mother.

"Sorry I must go. I hope to see you again. Welcome To Barley Frankwell Baptist Church." I said flashing her one last smile before turning away from her, and finding my way to my family again.

After the service, we head out to my grandparents’ house, where grandmother always made a feast. It was a regular occurrence. I personally felt that it was her guilty conscience that made her make a huge meal but it was good enough for me.

The cottage my grandparents lived in was located at the end of the street which was convenient for my grandfather because he did not like it when people came from all directions and bother him. My family was sometimes a weird bunch (usually my grandfather and grandmother), but well respected in the town of Cornerdale Valle. We funded the church, attended all it’s functions and did volunteer work on Fridays and Saturdays. I couldn’t complain. It felt nice to be recognized for all of your hard work and get praised for it.

My mother, Francis Cohen, worked at the church as its secretary. She did all of their books and organized all of the functions. Without her, Barley Frankwell would be lost. My father, Louis Cohen, was a small town accountant. He did all of the businesses in town’s books and made quite a few of them to come at the top of the pyramid. It was important to maintain a high status in Cornerdale, for it was mainly the wealthy and well-off who lived here. Sure, there were other classes but our class was the majority of the town.

As we entered the house, my grandfather put his arm around my shoulder, slightly shaking me in the process. I look up at him curiously but nonetheless give him a smile.

“That young lady back there,” Grandfather Simon started off. I nodded my head and went to take off my suit jacket and hung it on the coat hanger.

“Pretty young thing, isn't she?” He pressed as he took off his shoes and I did the same.

Simon was a cheeky old man. At the age of sixty-two, he was still as crazy as can be. The salt and pepper haired man was known for his instability and insanity, something my mother was ashamed of. My mother never liked the fact that grandfather was different and outspoken. She preferred men that followed the rules and stayed out of trouble which was why she married my dad. He was the complete opposite of his father-in-law.

“I guess.” I replied with a shrug.

She was pretty… but I didn’t want grandpa Simon to know that, he would just embarrass me more.

We walked into the kitchen and found grandmother busy behind the stove. My granny was a short woman, all of us towered her. Biologically, she wasn't my grandmother but she has been ever since I was five. Grandfather's first wife died from lung cancer. “Never smoked a day in her life,” He would always say, while taking a sip of some alcoholic drink most of the time. Two years after her passing, he met grandma Teigen. Two peas in a pod.

“Tilly, our boy met a young goose today.” He said proudly, as if me talking to girls was a rare occurrence. I rolled my eyes, something I came to do whenever I was annoyed and not in the house of the Lord, though I tried not to do it often.

“You should be exiled for using such language in the 21st Century.” Melanie, my sister, said as she came around the counter, and gave our granny Teigen a kiss on the cheek.

“I think we ladies agree with that.” My mother spoke up, as she began to help granny Teigen with the plates.

“All the way.” Granny Teigen cackled, but it was not in a creepy way, more of a light-hearted cackle.

“Of course you all do.” Grandpa Simon sighed as he went over to granny Teigen, giving her a kiss on the lips that lasted way too long for any of our liking.