Sinner (Shelter Harbor #1)(60)

I resist the urge to mention I in no way made him come find me. But then, there goes my mouth again.

“Aww, do you mean this is the last time we’re going to have one of these heart-to-hearts in the men’s room?”

“Watch it.”





Chapter Twenty-Nine





Evangeline




“And it was at that very moment that I decided to dedicate my life to the Lord and His work.”

“Amen”, my father says, his eyes closed as he knocks the dinner table with his knuckles.

“Amen,” Milton — future fiancé Milton — says feverishly, his brow literally sweating after the story he’s just finished telling. He smooths his button-up shirt down over his roundish belly, and adjusts his tie before he takes a healthy sip of water. Milton’s just regaled us all — me, my parents, and Chastity — with the story of how he found God after his “life of sin.”

It’s worth noting that Milton’s version of a “wicked life of sin” varies from what most people definitions of that might be.

Even I can see that.

With the outreach my father does, and with the evangelical nature of the Grace Church of Salvation and Divine Retribution, I’ve seen and heard a fair amount of stories of people finally finding faith and God in their darkest moments. A light at the end of a particularly long bender, a voice of reason after violence, drugs, or drink has left someone without a home or family to call their own.

Milton’s “darkest moment” was apparently when he realized he’d dropped five thousand dollars over the course of a week on an online video game.

Milton doesn’t, and never has touched alcohol. Or drugs. Or caffeine, apparently. He lived with his mother — in her basement, actually — until his “brush with the devil”, as he puts it, at the age of thirty. He was married the first time soon after that, and as horrible as it makes me sound and feel admitting it to myself, it takes me all of ten minutes of conversation with him to at least sort of understand how that marriage fell apart.

Because though Milton might be zealous in his religion, which is exactly why my father likes him, there are other facets to him that have me shifting in my seat uncomfortably and looking at my plate.

Other facets like the fact that Milton is weird.

Facets like his nervous, strangely high-pitched laugh.

Facets like his being extremely creepy in the way he just keeps staring at me through the entire dinner.

“Well, Milton,” my father pushes his plate away from himself as he clasps his hands and levels his eyes at my future husband. “Business was good in Boston?”

Milton’s business — the one my parents keep lauding as an example of how great he is — as it turns out, is a patented course on abstinence that he teaches to high schools, youth groups, and churches across the country. Somehow, this is tied to his “dark past” with irresponsible video game spending, but though he only told the story five minute ago, I can’t for the life of me remember the connection.

“Impressionable minds, Pastor,” Milton says with a heavy sigh. “Impressionable young minds are ripe for corruption, and it’s my job to stop the seeds of the devil from ever being planted.”

My mother fans herself, sighing as she bows her head towards him. “You’re doing the Lord’s work, dear.”

“Indeed,” my father says solemnly.

“Amen,” Chastity parrots.

I mumble something non-coherent into my Diet Coke.

“Evangeline.” Eventually, I’m forced to look up and meet Milton’s aggressively intense smile. “I can’t wait to hear more about your missionary work in the Orient.”

The Orient. Seriously?

I plaster a fake smile on my face. “Korea was a lot of fun.”

Milton sighs. “Just look at the two of us — both off around the world doing our part to build His kingdom.” He looks at my father. “Truly, this is a blessed and Godly union    , Pastor.”

My father beams as he reaches over and pats my hand. “Yes, our Eva is quite the little missionary. Though, I know her true strength will be in the home, raising a family.”

The veneer I’ve been holding together in front of my face all night cracks.

“Actually, I’ve also been considering graduate school.”

Milton and my father laugh.

“Well, dear,” my father says evenly. “That was with your previous situation. With Milton here and the family you’ll raise together, I’m sure your priorities will shift.”

“No, they won’t,” I say flatly. “I’m still actually interested in learning more about-”