Free Joyfully Yours by Amy Lamont

It couldn't be much past 9:30 now. What she couldn't figure out was why her mother would darken her doorstep. She thought Faith's choice to live in this particular neighborhood was just one more sign of rebelliousness.  
    "I brought this." She held out Faith's black wool coat.  
    "Thanks.” Faith took it and held the warm wool tight to her body. "Mom, you could have just called me. I would have come to get it."  
    "I tried calling you. More than once. And the coat isn't the only reason I came over."  
    Faith cringed and swallowed against her guilt. She had a tendency to avoid her mother's phone calls in the best of times. Since the whole Father Michael Debacle, as she'd come to think of it, she’d unplugged her phone and left her cell phone buried under a pile of socks in her drawer.  
    "Aren't you going to invite me up?"  
    "Of course." She mentally reviewed the state of her apartment. While not a total slob, her housekeeping skills probably weren't up to her mother's standards.  
    Oh, well. Not much she could do about the sweater hanging over the dining room chair or the layer of dust on her entertainment center now. She'd just have to suck up the comments her mother was sure to make.  
    Her mother pulled Faith’s apartment door closed behind her. "About what happened at the church Saturday night…"
    Faith's whole body tensed, waiting for the crushing set down she was sure her mother was about to rain upon her.  
    "Faith, I don't understand what happened. I tried to ask Maddie and all she would say is that the two of you were chatting and she told you she thought Father Michael might be interested in her. And then you made some disparaging remarks questioning why anyone would want to date a priest."  
    Faith's jaw clenched and a throbbing started in her temples. Leave it to Maddie to twist things to suit her. "That's not exactly what happened."
    "Then why don't you make us some tea and you can explain your side of things."  
    Okay. What? Not once in all her years of being this woman's daughter could she remember her taking Faith's side over Maddie's. Or even wanting to hear Faith's side of things.
    Ten minutes later they were sitting in front of steaming cups of tea at her tiny kitchen table. Faith had puttered for as long as she could, hoping to put her mother off her trail. But she couldn’t come up with one more thing, short of pulling out the vacuum, to avoid this conversation.
    “Now, start from the beginning,” her mother said.  
      “I guess it started at your house on Thanksgiving.” Faith paused. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and debated how much to share. Looking at her mother’s concerned face, she made her decision and pulled in a deep breath, her stomach churning. “Well, no, that’s not true. It started the day before.”  
    Faith told her mother about the grocery store, the misunderstanding about the kind of priest Michael was, the chemistry between them, her feelings about her music, and Maddie’s interference in the relationship. Over the next half an hour, Faith said more to her mother than she had in all her teen years combined.  
    When she was done, only one thing was left. The question that had been plaguing Faith for the last few years. “Mom, why does Maddie hate me so much? We got along for the most part as kids, but lately…I don’t know. It seems like she can’t stand me.”  
    Her mother patted her hand. “She’s jealous of you.”  
    A sharp bark of laughter escaped her. “That’s ridiculous. I’m the screw-up, the one who can’t cook, doesn’t have a real job. Maddie is perfect. Why on earth would she be jealous of me?”  
    “You do exactly as you please. You always have. Maddie did everything she thought she was supposed to—went to college, got a job, spends a fortune on clothes and manicures, learned to make homemade meals from scratch.”  
    Faith nodded. This was more along the lines of what she expected from her mother—a list of