The Cages You Build

Chapter Fourteen~House Hunting

On Sunday, after church, the front door to Denise's house swung open before David and Mia even climbed the porch. Mia stepped out of the way as a young girl ran out and into David's waiting arms.

"David!"

David swung her around before setting her down and ruffling her hair. "Hey, kid."

Denise stood in the doorway, one hand fisted on her hip. "What have I told you about that screaming, child? Manners." Denise rolled her eyes in exasperation before looking to Mia. "Hello, Mia. Good to see you again."

Mia nodded, looking back to the girl, who finally turned her gaze to Mia. She looked to be about ten years old, with curly black hair and a pair of green, cat eyes. When those particular eyes narrowed, Mia knew they wouldn't be friends any time soon.

David took Mia's hand. "Mia, this is Mercedes; Denise's granddaughter. Mercedes, this is my friend, Mia."

Mercedes folded her arms and Mia steeled herself for whatever was coming. "Are you his girlfriend?"

Denise let out a choked sound. "Mercy!" she hissed. "Why don't you show David that bad bulb? David, please I need you to help me replace a light bulb in my corridor. It went out a few days ago and I'm scared of tripping on my way to the kitchen at night."

David let go of Mia's hand. "You should have called me immediately."

She waved a hand. "Didn't want to bother you. I have new light bulbs in the supply closet. Mercy, go show him where it is."

Mercedes rolled her eyes. "Mercedes, grandma."

Denise lifted her chin in defiance. "Mercy is a good and sensible name full of meaning. I don't know what on earth Mercedes means." She titled her head in an aside to Mia, "I don't know what her parents were thinking."

They all went inside, David and Mercedes heading inside the house while Mia and Denise sat in the living room.

"How was the service, Mia? Did you enjoy it?"

She nodded. "It was eye-opening."

Denise nodded slowly, in time with the motion of her rocking chair. "The best messages are usually the easiest ones to ignore." She looked at Mia. "We're so busy deciding who the message is for, we forget to apply it to ourselves."

Mia winced. She'd been doing the very same thing. When the pastor spoke about those who thirsted for money and power, she thought of her mother. When he mentioned fornication, her mind went to Bridget, living with her fiancé. Did she ever stop to think of how the message applied to her? No. She'd been too busy pointing fingers.

"I wonder why it's so."

"The hardest people to preach to are the ones sitting in church." She shook her head. "Not the ones outside."

Mia concurred. Denise studied her face. "How is your sister?"

"She's—"

"And I want the real answer, not the automatic one you were about to spit out."

Mia chuckled. "Okay." Her smile died. "She's still living with him. The wedding's been pushed up."

Denise didn't react. She only nodded in her slow, ponderous way. "I can't say I'm surprised."

Mia felt helpless anger. "Why would you stay with someone who abuses you?"

"I used to wonder the same thing," she said. "But then, I realized there are numberless reasons. In Bridget's case, you can almost excuse her. He's young, handsome, rich."

Mia rose quickly to her sister's defense. "My sister is a lot of things but she wouldn't sell herself for money. She must love him."

Denise shook her head. "She's not in love. She's afraid. What I saw in her eyes that day was raw fear. And that's why she's staying," she said, her tone giving no room for argument. Her fingers tapped the arm of her chair. "I suppose one of your parents is in support of the marriage."