Apparently, Uncle Bill was never much of a churchgoer, but that changed when he became my guardian. He knew Dad and Mom had taken me to church most Sundays, and he was determined to continue the weekly tradition. At first. But lately, as work has piled up, making him more tired than usual, we’ve missed some Sunday services. Missed the last two Sundays, in fact, which has suited me just fine. Any interest I might have had in attending church has been pretty much gone since my parents’ deaths.
But this particular Sunday morning is different. I want to go. That’s because the Matthes family will be there. They go almost as often as Amy Sloan’s family; with Mr. and Mrs. Sloan out of town, this might be the first Sunday service they’ve missed in years. Greg even goes on the few Sundays when the rest of his family aren’t there, so he can be with Amy. He and Amy always sit together. Not this morning, though. People will think it’s because Amy’s at church camp, but I know the truth. So does Greg, and I want to see how it affects him.
If he shows up at all.
I’m already dressed and eating cereal when Uncle Bill trudges downstairs, scratching his crotch, still dressed in the lounge pants and worn-out T-shirt he wears to sleep in. Seeing me, he stops at the bottom of the stairs, surprised.
“You’re dressed already,” he says, taking note of my black slacks and light blue polo shirt.
“Yeah,” I say. “Church.”
“I was thinking…uh…maybe we wouldn’t go this morning,” Uncle Bill says. “We’d just sleep in.”
“But you’re up,” I point out.
“I was just coming down to get the paper, some coffee, then go back to sleep for a bit before I have to go to work.”
“We haven’t been in a couple weeks,” I remind him.
He doesn’t seem to know how to answer that and fumbles for words. “Well, uh… Well, I guess…” He looks upstairs longingly, as if his bedsheets are calling to him to get back under them. “Just let me change…”
“I’ll go by myself,” I say.
He looks at me. “I just need a minute—”
“I’m serious. You’re right. You’ve been really busy. You need the rest. Sleep in until you have to go to work. I’ll be fine going to church by myself.”
“How will you get there?” Uncle Bill asks.
“I have one of Charlie’s bikes. I’ll use that.”
“Well, if you’re sure…”
“I’m sure.”
“Okay then.” He hesitates, then asks, “You’ve got plans this afternoon?”
“Like I said last night, homework. I’ll probably go to the library.”
“Right.” He nods. “I’ll be home by seven. I’ll bring pizza with me. You want the usual?”
“Sure.” I keep smiling as he heads back upstairs, apparently forgetting his intention to get the newspaper and coffee, just happy to get a little more sleep, which makes me feel more guilty about all the hours he puts in so he can take care of me.