Part 3
Usually Sidney loved Sunday mornings. But since moving to Boston the previous Fall, she'd been hard pressed to find the kind of worship service that usually started her week off just right. Eventually she'd settled on a quaint little Episcopalian church a few miles from where she lived, thinking that a church she liked rather than loved was better than none at all, and at least the tradition of the service enveloped her and reminded her of home. Today though, it was slightly depressing. For one, she was quite sure she had heard the sermon that was being preached just a few weeks before, albeit under a different title. To be honest, it seemed as though the priest had a formula that he always used, and no matter what topic he started out with he always came back to the same four points: some variation of God before work, don't skip church, don't skip the beginning of church, and don't steal your tithe. She was tired of hearing the same things over and over. She was hungry.
To make matters worse Dave had decided that his time was much too valuable to waste sitting on a pew listening to a message that didn't inspire him. Oh, he didn't actually say that, but whenever she asked him about church he'd say, "I'll try" and then not show up. The last time he'd shown up he'd gotten irrationally mad that she left without saying hello to him - apparently he'd wanted to introduce her to his brother who was in town. But she couldn't read minds, he hadn't seemed interested in saying hello, they weren't formally a couple then, and she had hovered at the door uncertainly for a few minutes and then left. It must have hurt his feelings a lot, because he'd said that it was odd and rude of her, and she'd apologized, but to be quite honest she wasn't sure she should have. Just the week before he'd left church without saying hello to her, and how was she supposed to read his mind? Oh well.
"This is why you must not skip Sunday service," the priest was saying when she tuned back in. Oh, how she missed Connecticut, and her church there. She never needed convincing to attend. She sneaked a look at her thin gold wristwatch, and got caught by Sarah. She smiled back at her and turned back to the preacher, her Bible balanced on her knee. She was sure Sarah meant well, but to be quite honest she wasn't sure she liked her very much. For one, she was sure that none of these girls would care about who she was if they had met her back in high school. And she couldn't stand the gossip. At first it had been interesting to get an inside scoop on the young adults of the church, but soon she had started wondering what they were saying about her.
Eventually church ended. Sidney stopped to hug and go through the motions of saying hello and how are you and how nice you look, and then she was finally free. She got into her baby blue Nissan 350Z, and pulled out her phone and turned it on. It was noon, and Dave must have tried to call her or left a voice message. Sure enough, there was an envelope in the top right hand corner of the screen. She smiled and clicked on it.
"Press Release?" was all the text said.
She actually put the phone down and looked away for a second. Seriously? She looked again to see if maybe she missed something, but that was really all the text said. No "Good morning," or "How did you sleep" or any attempt to encase the reminder text in some semblance of civility. Was he serious? Did he really think he could just be that rude and it was okay?
She considered calling him and giving him a piece of her mind, but then decided against it. She was not a very good communicator when she was mad, and she'd need some good communication to let him know that this was just unacceptable. But she wouldn't dwell on it. It was a nice cool June day, and a drive home with the top down would put her in a good mood.
Will Sidney work on the Press Release, or show Dave the door? Read Part 4 here
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