“I’m glad we weren’t that freaked on our first day of college,” Martha said.
It was true, neither Romilly nor Martha had been freaked-out freshmen. Now they were decidedly unfreaked seniors. Romilly was glad that she and Martha had saved their last core course for this semester. This way, they could take a class with Annie and help ease her transition into college life.
Annie came back into the living room wearing two navy socks that matched her jeans. Eva, Annie and Martha’s adoptive mother, followed. She’d been in the kitchen, making coffee.
“I’m glad you’re all taking that Christianity class together,” she said, wiping her slender hands on her bathrobe. “Maybe it isn’t too much to hope that you’ll start going to church with me.”
“I’ll go to church when Lucrezia Borgia gets a PhD,” Martha said, referring to her pet tarantula. “And Rom and I signed up for that class not because we’re interested in superstition and woo woo but to try to get our classmates to question their beliefs.”
“And because we wanted to keep Annie company,” Romilly added, and Annie looked at her gratefully. Annie, Romilly knew, had chosen to take Comparative Religion for her humanities requirement because she was genuinely interested in learning about different forms of spirituality. That drove Martha crazy. She couldn’t figure out how her little sister had turned out to be such a lemming. To Martha’s mind, it was always “Rom and I”, two sane people, kindred spirits and soul mates (if Martha believed in spirits or souls), elbow-to-elbow against a hopelessly irrational world.
“Besides, it isn’t a Christianity class,” Martha told her mom. “It’s Comparative Religion. It’ll be taught by one of the professors in the Philosophy and Humanities department. He’ll talk about Christianity, sure, but he’ll talk about other religions, too. And hopefully he’ll do some rational analysis. You know, talk about why people all over the world believe silly things.”