by Lori Wick
"Our anniversary! Oh, Paul, what a wonderful idea."
"I think so. It just seems so natural after all the changes. We'll think about it, okay?"
"Okay."
They leaned simultaneously and kissed before climbing out of the car. The girls had made some things for their father, so as soon as he was inside, they presented him with a picture Delancey had drawn and a cake Mackenzie had baked.
"Oh, thank you. This picture is super, D.J. You're getting better all the time."
She smiled shyly but with great pleasure.
139
"What kind of cake, Mic?"
"Chocolate."
"That's my girl. In fact, I could eat some of this right now."
"Can we, Mom?"
"I wouldn't argue with that. Don't forget the ice cream."
It was a perfectly normal thing to do on their father's first day back. They visited some, but mostly ate in silence, and then Paul produced some gifts he had purchased, including a late birthday gift for Mackenzie. No one was hungry for supper just an hour later, and jet lag was catching Paul fast.
"A nap or an early night?" It was six o'clock when Marrell asked.
"I don't know if I can make it until tonight, and if I nap now, I might not be coherent afterward."
"Don't try. Just go to bed now and sleep the night."
Paul hated to do it, but that's just what he did. He didn't remember his fatigue being this bad in December, but he was nearly dragging as he kissed his wife and girls and headed to the bedroom. Undressing and stretching out on his back, and even sighing with the pleasure of being in his own bed, he remembered nothing else until almost six o'clock the next morning.
Marrell rolled over and for an instant thought one of the girls had climbed into bed beside her. It took a second for her to remember that Paul was finally home. She squinted through the hair that had fallen in her face to find him lying on his side watching her. She smiled.
"How long have you been awake?" she asked, her voice rusty.
"Just a little while. You're beautiful in the morning, did you know that?"
She groaned a little. "You sound like a man starved for the sight of his wife no matter how bad she looks."
Paul chuckled and pushed the hair from her face. He kissed her, and Marrell realized he'd been up to shave.
"Are the girls up?" she asked.
"I don't think so. It's only about 6:20."
"Did you sleep well?"
"Very well. I didn't even hear you come in."
"How was your bed in Germany? I never asked you."
140
"It was fine," Paul said before a smile lit his eyes. "But I never got to wake up next to my wife-a keen disadvantage, I can tell you."
"Oh, Paul, I didn't know anyone could miss someone the way I missed you."
He kissed her again. "I assure you, the feeling is quite mutual. Tell me again, what time do we need to leave for Sunday school?"
"About 9:10."
"Perfect," he said as his arms went around her. "Plenty of time to cuddle with my wife."
"Hell is a very real place," Pastor Timm said later that morning. Delancey didn't like the sound of that, but unlike previous Sunday mornings, she wasn't able to shift her mind to other things.
Did people really burn forever? Would God really make someone do that?The thought was so awful to her that she refused to believe it. One time, while she was still quite little, her mother had been baking a cake. Delancey had touched the pan and burned the side of her small finger. She remembered thinking the pain would never go away. She hated it and had a mark for days after.
What would it be like to feel that all over?Delancey felt sick at the thought. She chanced a look at Mackenzie, but she was looking bored and disinterested. Delancey knew she couldn't talk to her. She could talk to her mother but hoped by the time the service ended that she would have forgotten all about it. Delancey finally distracted herself by thinking about a dress she had seen at the mall. After a few moments her mind was as far away from the sermon as Mackenzie's.
The following week was busy. On Monday and Tuesday the four Bishops packed. They threw out, cleaned, sorted, threw out some more, and loaded every available box with possessions. They woke up Wednesday morning to go at it again.
"Where did we get all this stuff?" Paul asked at one point, having just lifted a very heavy box and set it by the wall in the living room.
141
"That box holds books," Marrell admitted. "I probably buy two or three a month."
Paul nodded. He had been doing more reading as well.
"Do we need to keep them, or can we donate them to the church library?"
"Oh, I never thought of that. Maybe I should go through them again."
"Not now; they're packed. We'll leave those boxes and sort them once we're on the base."
"All right. Did you hear back about housing?"
"Yeah," Paul's face brightened. "I forgot to tell you. We're back on Infantry Terrace."
"Are we really?"
"Yes. I don't know the number, but that's what I was told."
"Oh, that's the best news I've had all day."
"What's the best news?" Delancey wanted to know.
"Our house on the base is right back where we were on Infantry Terrace."
"Oh, cool," she said calmly as she headed into the kitchen to attack the fruit bowl. She wandered past with an apple and two oranges in her hands, and Paul stared after her.
"Is she about two feet taller than she was yesterday, or is it me?"
Marrell laughed. "She shot up right after Easter, and it hasn't stopped yet. All she does is eat and stretch out more. She's already in some of Micki's clothes, and she can't wear my shoes any longer."
"She looks like pictures I've seen of my mother when she was in high school-tall and lean."
They were silent for a moment as they worked. Paul had written to his family after his conversion, but the response had not been good. He hadn't even mentioned the Lord, but his father's letter back to him had been scathing, blaming Paul for the distance between them, hurting his mother, and thinking only of himself. Paul had written twice more, but no answers came.
Marrell had a sudden thought. "Did you ever try writing to just your mom, Paul? I wonder if she wouldn't be more receptive than your father."
Paul realized how true it was. His mother had never been as angry as his father; hers had always been the kinder approach.
"Do you know what I'm going to do?"
"What?"
142
"Call. My father would still be at work right now, and I think I'll just call. If she doesn't want to talk to me, I'll leave them alone. It can't hurt any more than it does now, so what have I got to lose?"
"Oh, Paul." Marrell was anxious as she followed him to the phone in the kitchen. It was all so sudden. He dialed the number without hesitation, and Marrell stood by, begging God to let Mrs. Bishop be home alone. She didn't think she would be able to breathe when Paul said, "Mom?"
Paul listened intently as there was a long hesitation on the other end and finally a tentative, "Paul?"
"Yes, Mom, it's Paul. I didn't mean to frighten you."
"It's all right. I'm just..." Arlene Bishop was too overcome to go on.
"I'm sorry, Mom. I'm sorry I've made you cry."
"It's all right," she gasped. "Just don't hang up. I have to get a tissue."
Paul glanced at Marrell, whose hands were over her mouth. Mackenzie came in and asked what was going on.
"He's talking to his mother," Marrell whispered.
Mackenzie's eyes grew on this announcement, but she made no comment.
"I'm here," Paul said into the phone once his mother had returned. "I wasn't sure if I should call. Dad's letter was pretty final."
"He's at the office," Arlene said softly.
"I figured he might be."
"He's sorry he sent that letter, Paul, but he'll never take it back." She wasted no time in saying the very thing
she didn't think she could admit to anyone. "He's read your other two letters a dozen times."
"But you don't think he'll change his mind?"
"No, he's too stubborn for that."
"What about you, Mom? I mostly called to see if you feel the same way."
"No, I was just glad to know you're still alive." She gave a harsh laugh. "Do you remember how hard we were on you when you married Marrell? Well, yours is the only marriage that's made it. Tells you what we all know."
"Everyone's divorced?"
143
"Yes. Your sister three times."
"Oh, Mom, I'm sorry."
There was an uncomfortable silence then. Paul was at a complete loss.
"You still in Germany?"
"No, I'm back in San Francisco now. In fact, we're moving back to the base at the end of the week."
"How are Marrell and the girls?"
"They're great. It's good to be home with them."
"Is it really? You're still getting along with Marrell?"
"Yes. I'm thrilled to be home."
"I'm glad, Paul. Don't divorce. It's awful."
"I won't, Mom. In fact we're going to repeat our vows on our anniversary in August."
"I wish I could be there."
"You would be very welcome."
"Your father would have a fit. I don't want to think about it."
Silence came again before Paul found the courage to ask the only question on his mind.
"Would I be welcome if I came to see you?" he asked softly and could hear she was crying again. Tears gathered in his own eyes, and he could feel Marrell come up and hug him from the back.
"He would be so angry, Paul. I'm sorry, but he's never going to forget."
Arlene was sobbing, and Paul's own tears would not be squelched.
"I love you, Mom," he cried.
"Oh, Paul, Paul!" Arlene wailed.
Paul called her name, but she had dropped the phone. He waited, unsure of what to do next. He hadn't even said goodbye.
"Hello?" Someone had picked up the other end.
"Hello."
"Who is this?" a female voice demanded.
"It's Paul Bishop."
There was a moment of silence.
"Paul? Is it really you?"
"Tammy?" Paul had not even recognized his sister's voice. He didn't remember it sounding so gravelly.
144
"Yeah, it's me. Mom's sobbing, and I ...well, um, I mean, what are you doing?"
"I just wanted to talk to Mom and see how she is. I'm sorry she's so upset."
Paul heard voices in the background now, and a moment later his mother came back on.
"Are you all right?" he said softly.
"Yes. I'm okay. I didn't want you to hang up before I could say goodbye."
"Can I call you again?"
"Yes, during the day. He takes Mondays off now."
"Okay. I'll call again after we're settled on the base."
"Okay."
"Mom?"
"Yes."
"You can tell him I called. I don't care if he knows, as long as he won't take it out on you."
Arlene sighed. "I'll think about it."
"Tell Tammy I said hello. Art and Lance too."
"I'll do that. You tell Marrell hello. And those girls."
"Okay. Take care, Mom. Don't forget what I said."
"I won't."
Paul hung up the phone a moment later, amazed at the conversation he'd just had. Ten minutes ago his mother had not even been on his mind; now he had spoken to her. All she had cared about was that he was still alive. Marrell was still clinging to his back, which left Paul's hands free to wipe at the tears coming down his face.
Imiss her,he told the Lord.Imiss my mom. It's been so long. I made some bad choices, but nowyou've given her back to me. I may never see her again, but I know she still cares. Even my father cares. I'll write again, and this time I know he'll read it.
He turned now, ready to take his wife into his arms.
"How is she?" Marrell asked.
"She's okay. She said Dad's sorry about the letter, but he would never admit it. I can call back, and I plan to write again."
"Oh, Paul." Marrell still felt as though she could bawl. "When I suggested contacting your mother, I didn't know what I was getting us into. I thought I would die when I heard those tears in your voice."
145
Both Delancey and Mackenzie were on the scene now. In an apartment with a short hallway and the bedrooms right off the kitchen and living room, there was very little privacy. Mackenzie had never moved, and Delancey had joined them when from her bedroom she had realized things had gotten very quiet.
"Are you all right, Dad?" Delancey asked.
"Yes. Your grandmother said hello."
"Does she know us?"
"She knows your names, but that's about all."
"Who's divorced?" Mackenzie asked, having heard all of Paul's side of the conversation.
"Both my brothers and my sister."
"Is Tammy your sister?"
"Yes," Paul told her and wondered at how little the girls knew about his family. "Come in the living room for a few minutes, and I'll tell you about them."
They pushed boxes out of the way to get to the sofa, reminding them that time was getting away, but Paul believed this was important.
"I don't know what you know about my family, but they live in Florida. My father grows citrus fruit, a business he started with his own brother who's dead now. My brothers, Art and Lance, work with him. I was expected to follow along, and when I didn't, they all grew angry with me, but mostly my father."
"Maybe you should tell them your siblings' names and ages," Marrell suggested.
"My sister Tammy is the oldest; she's 8 years older than I am. Next is Art; he's 46. Lance at 43 is just two years older than me. I was pretty close to Lance, but he got into some wild things in high school, and my mom started keeping us apart. It was as if she was saying, 'I can't control your wild brother, but I'll keep you away from him so you won't turn out the same.'
"I graduated from high school at 18 and went to work in the orchards. My father didn't believe in playing favorites, so I had to start at the bottom. I had done some work in the summers but always knew I'd be able to get out of it in the fall when school started. I hated the job I had. I hated it so much that all my father and I did was fight.
"I stuck it out for two years, but when he threatened to cut my pay, I quit. I was terrible to him. I called him all sorts of awful
146
names, and he did the same to me. I got so angry that I joined the Army. He didn't believe me when I told him. He didn't take me seriously until I showed him my papers and bus ticket. He told me to get out and never come back."
Paul paused here. It was such a painful memory.
"So was today the first time you talked to your mom in all these years?" Mackenzie asked.
"No. I did go home at times, but I was never very welcome. My father couldn't stand the sight of my uniform, and when I told them I was going to Officer Candidate School, you'd have thought I was joining the mob. My father never dreamed I would make a career out of it. I sent them invitations to everything. I let them know every time I was promoted, but they never responded.
"Then, as a newly commissioned officer, I walked into a diner in Colorado Springs and met your mother. From that point forward she became my life. We visited my parents only twice after we were married because they didn't approve of the marriage. The last time we visited, I had a fight with my brother over something he said to your mom, and we've never been back."
"Why did you call her today?"
"I can see now as never before how wrongly I've treated my parents. I'm trying to make amends. I wrote to them when I was in Germany. My father wrote back, as angry as ever. I hoped my mother would feel differently, so knowing that my father would be at work, I called just to talk with her."
"Was she glad?"
; Paul smiled, his throat closing again. "Yes. She even admitted that they had been wrong about your mom. All my siblings married local people, and none of the marriages has lasted."
"Will we go see her?" Delancey queried.
"No, honey, I'm afraid not. My father still won't welcome me, and I wouldn't want to put any of you through that."
Delancey had tears in her eyes.
"What is it, honey?" Marrell asked.
"I don't know," she shrugged, looking miserable. "I would hate it if I couldn't see you and Dad."
"Oh, D.J." Paul's heart felt as though it would break. How did he explain a man like Otto Bishop to his innocent daughter? "I'm sorry we can't see him. It hurts me too. It did help, however, that my mother said he was sorry he had written the letter,
147
but she made it very clear that he wouldn't want to see me."
"I'm going to pray that he changes his mind," Marrell put in softly.
"As will I," Paul seconded.
"Did I hear you tell your mother that you're marrying Mom again?" This came from Mackenzie.
"We're talking about it, yes. On our anniversary."
"Why?" Mackenzie asked in genuine confusion.
Paul sighed. "I know that the changes in our lives have not really affected you, Micki. If I had come to Christ while this marriage was on the verge of breakup or from a life of constant drinking and fighting, you might have more to go on. The truth of the matter is, I've always loved and provided for you guys, but I know there is more. Your mother and I are new creatures in Christ now, and we want to celebrate that by standing before God and our friends and rededicating our lives to each other. I'm very excited about it."
"Will there be a lot of people there?"
"Hundreds," Marrell jumped in. "And you and D.J. will stand up with us and be in the ugliest dresses ever made. It's sure to be covered by the evening news. You'll be so embarrassed you'll never be able to show your faces again."
"Mom!" Mackenzie tried not to laugh.
"In fact," the older woman continued, not letting her say a word, "you'll both have to write speeches, memorize them, and recite them to the whole group. I'll see to it that every boy you've ever had a crush on will be there to watch from the front row."
Both girls were laughing now.
"This is serious, you two," Marrell went on, refusing to let up. "I think I want you each to sing a solo."