“Not if you didn’t want to,” the bishop assured him. “This could be a kind of behind-the-scenes, one-on-one kind of calling. Just casual, helpful phone calls or visits with folks you’ve mostly known for a long time. You’ll know how to be sensitive to their feelings and how to gauge what somebody might be good at.”
“Well, Bishop, I thank you for your confidence in me,” Tom began, shaking his head. “But I ain’t been any good at finding myself a job, so I don’t rightly see how I could be of much use to other folks.”
“One other thing, too,” the bishop continued, ignoring the negative tone in Tom’s answer. “You’d be the first to see the job list as it came through, and if something showed up with your name on it, so to speak, you’d be able to check on it, right away.”
“Wal, wouldn’t that be unfair to the other men?”
The bishop leaned forward and looked him straight in the eye. “Your family deserves your support just as much as anyone else’s,” he told him. “Circulate the list to others, of course, in a timely way but don’t hesitate to apply for anything of interest to you, as well. That’s all I mean.”
Tom chewed on the idea literally, it appeared, as his jaw and lips worked as though he were chewing a wad of bubble gum or tobacco, which the bishop felt sure he was not and finally said, “Wal, reckon I could give it a try. S’pose I owe it to you, Bishop, you been good to us, with T-Rex, and Grandma’s funeral and all.”
“It would be a great help, Tom. We’ve been trying to handle it in the bishopric, but we have plenty of other things to see to, and if we could count on you to carry this, we’d feel better about things.”
“All right, then. I’ll do it.”
“Thanks so much, Brother. The Lord will bless you for it, I know. Now, we’ll be sustaining you next Sunday in sacrament meeting, and we’ll try to set you apart right after the block that same day. Lula and young Thomas can come in to the setting apart, too. In fact, I believe we’ll be able to ordain Thomas a priest at the same time, since he’s been attending his meetings much more regularly than he used to. Well, I’ll be going now unless there’s anything I can do for you folks?”
“No, sir, thank you. Boy thinks a lot of you for goin’ to his games, though. Wanted to tell you that.”
“I can’t get to all the out-of-town games, but I sure enjoy seeing him play when they’re at home. He’s a powerhouse, isn’t he?”
Thomas Rexford cracked a smile. “He is that, ain’t he? Don’t know where he gets it from, but he’s got a lot of grit, all right.”
“Should help him get into college.”
“Hope he’ll do that a man needs all the schoolin’ and trainin’ he can get, these days.”
“That’s the truth. Thanks again, Brother Tom. Have a good evening.”
He climbed into his truck with a sense of great satisfaction. “Yes!” he exulted. “Thank Thee, Father! Please bless Brother Rexford for this decision, and help him carry out his duties well. Bless his family that they may have all their needs met and their testimonies increased.”
To his knowledge, this was the first church calling that Brother Tom Rexford had ever accepted. He didn’t know how Tom felt about that, but he felt wonderful.
Chapter Nine
* * *
“all thou seest amiss in us”
VerDan Winslow, tall and handsome as his parents, as might be expected, strolled into the bishop’s office fifteen minutes later than the time agreed upon, and reached across the desk to shake the bishop’s proffered hand.
“Welcome, Brother Winslow,” the bishop said cordially. “It’s great to meet you. We sure think a lot of your folks here in the ward, and I was glad to hear that you’re considering a mission. Have a seat, and let’s get acquainted.”
The young man ran the fingers of his right hand through longish brown hair streaked with blond, and tossed his head back to arrange it, then crossed one ankle over the other knee and looked expectantly at his new spiritual leader.
“I understand you’ve been at the University of Utah?”
“Yep.” The young man nodded. “For two years.”
“What are you studying?”
“Mostly general requirements, with a business emphasis.”
“Great. And then you decided it was time to plan a mission?”
VerDan nodded. “That’s about it,” he agreed.
“Seems like this must have been a sudden decision,” the bishop prodded. “Hadn’t classes already started, this term?”
“Yeah, but I got most of my money refunded. I needed a break from school, and from Utah, and I figured a mission would be as good a thing to do as any.”
“I see. Why’d you figure that? Is a mission something you’ve always planned on doing?”
The young man shrugged, smiling lazily. “Well, off and on, I’d thought about it. You know, like every good little Mormon boy. But the time never seemed right till now.”
“Okay. Help me out a little, here, if you will. Why does the time seem right, now, so suddenly that you dropped your classes and came home? What’s your motivation for wanting to serve a mission, other than needing a break from school?”
“Uh, well you know I think it’s a cool idea to go out and help people, and stuff. Lots of my friends have done it, and they said it was a great experience. I guess I could develop some skills along the way, you know? Leadership skills, getting along with people, stuff like that. And probably by the time I got back, I’d have a better idea of what I want to do with my life for a career, I mean. Right now, I’m not sure, and it seems dumb to spend a lot of money and effort on school when I’m not sure where I’m heading.”
“So you see a mission as a kind of stopgap? A time to get your head together and figure out what you want to do afterward?”
VerDan shrugged. “Sure. And Dad and Mom especially Mom want me to go, and I think it’d be a good thing to do, too.”
“Uh-huh, I see. How do you feel about the Church, VerDan?”
“The Church? It’s cool. It’s good. I was in a good student ward at the U. We had lots of fun activities, and a great bishop.”
“That’s good. What was his name?”
“Huh? Um Bishop Vale. Ronald Vale. He’s a history prof.”
The bishop wrote that down. “Fine. And what was the name of your ward, and your stake? I’ll give them to Brother Perkins, so he can have your records transferred here.”
“It was um the Twenty-fifth? No, the Twenty-sixth Ward, I think. I’ve got it written down in my scriptures at home. I don’t remember the stake, but I’ll call you with it.”
“Okay. VerDan, how do you feel about the Savior, Jesus Christ?”
VerDan looked surprised. “Um good. Good, of course. What do you mean?”
The bishop looked steadily at him. “Bear me your testimony.”
“Um well, I um know the Church is true. I know God lives, and Jesus is His Son, and all. Joseph Smith was a true prophet. I love my family and friends. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen. Is that what you wanted me to say?”
The bishop smiled at him. “What I wanted to hear were your true and honest feelings about the Lord you would be going out to represent and teach about if you were to be called on a mission. You may be aware that the Brethren in Salt Lake are calling for better-prepared missionaries with strong testimonies, ready to go out and really testify to the truth. Now, let’s talk for a few minutes about your moral preparation, all right?”
VerDan raked his hair with his fingers and tossed it again. “Sure,” he said in a small voice.
“One of the first things we need to establish about a prospective missionary is his moral worthiness,” the bishop explained. “You’ll need to be absolutely truthful with me about these things. There’ve been far too many young people go to the MTC, or even out into their mission fields, and then they’ve found themselves stricken with guilt over unconfessed sins. Often, they have to come home, and that can be a sad and embarrassing situation. It’s far
better to take care of any unresolved problems ahead of time. I’m sure you can understand that.”
The young man nodded. His eyes were round and apprehensive. Oh, boy, thought the bishop. I think there’s some- thing there. Help me, Father, to be sensitive and understanding if there is.
He began to question VerDan, who answered all his inquiries with the replies any bishop would wish to hear. He was morally clean, he didn’t have any unresolved sins or misdeeds, he didn’t smoke or drink or do drugs, he was honest in his dealings with others, he honored his priesthood, he supported the leadership of the Church everything sounded fine. Why, the bishop asked himself, didn’t he feel that the boy was being totally honest with him?
“Do you have a girlfriend, VerDan?” he asked, smiling.
“Oh not really,” VerDan said, shaking his head. “Just dated around, you know. Lots of cute girls in my ward.”
“I see. Well, I’ll tell you what let’s get your records transferred here, and you start filling out these papers. You’ll see that there are some health and dental exams that need to be taken care of, as well as other forms to complete. So you go ahead and start on these, and we’ll talk again soon, all right? Thanks for coming in. It’s a pleasure to meet you, and I’ll look forward to getting to know you better.”
“Okay. Thanks!” VerDan stood and took the papers. The bishop stood, too, and watched the young man saunter out of the building. He shook his head. Something was definitely not right.
* * *
Thursday, Tiffani’s sixteenth birthday, dawned bright, but with a haze that burned itself off by noon, leaving a gloriously blue sky as a foil for the yellow and orange leaves that still clung to twigs and branches. Tiffani’s father remembered the morning of her birth a very different day from this anniversary laden with roiling clouds and an unremitting downpour that had seemed to drain all color from the day. Trish had had a difficult labor for many long hours, before the doctors had been able to coax the red, squalling little Tiffani into the world. Her father had chuckled at her fury, then melted as she quieted in his arms and looked up at him. He was sure she had looked at him, though Trish said the baby really couldn’t have focused much. It was no matter what the weather was doing outside; inside, the sun was shining straight from heaven.
The joy of fatherhood had broken over him like a warm Caribbean wave, and in spite of all its realities and responsibilities, it hadn’t disappointed him, yet. The fact that it was rather difficult for Trish to conceive only made the children more precious. If the two of them had had their wish, there would have been at least one other child between Tiffani and Jamie, and another in the five years between Jamie and Mallory. But he couldn’t complain wouldn’t ever complain not when thinking of the couples he knew who had no children or whose child, like Ralph and Linda Jernigan’s daughter, Jodie Lee, had been taken from them. As nervous as he might be about Tiffani beginning to drive and possibly to date, he was thankful she was alive, well, and able to do so.
In keeping with the family tradition, the birthday celebrant was allowed to choose a restaurant for dinner or a favorite meal at home. They discussed the matter a few evenings before the big day. Tiffani changed her mind several times about the food, but was adamant that she wanted Claire Patrenko to be invited along.
“Sure, that’s fine. And what about Lisa Lou?” Trish asked.
Tiffani made a face of pained indecision. “I don’t know,” she said. “I like Lisa Lou, but she she’s kind of different from Claire and me.”
“I know,” Trish agreed. “But she’s the only other girl in your age group at Church, and I’m afraid she’d find out and feel left out.”
“Look, Mom if there were fifteen girls in my group, would I have to invite them all?”
“Of course not. But there aren’t. And I know Lisa Lou’s already in Laurels, but you’re right behind her, and the two of you have come up from Primary, together. I just think she’d feel hurt.”
“Why would she have to know?” Tiffani muttered.
“She’d know,” Trish assured her. “Sooner or later. Well, I’ll leave it up to you, honey. I don’t want to force you to invite her, but just think about it.”
The bishop decided to put his two cents in. “You could think of it as an effort to help unify the ward,” he said brightly. “You and Lisa Lou from the former First Ward, and Claire from the Second. Besides, I like for Lisa Lou to associate with you and Claire it’s good for her.”
“Dad, she gets bored with us, ’cause we don’t talk boys nonstop, like she does. We actually talk about other things, sometimes. And she turns everything around to guys clothes, movies, music, seminary, books, school, whatever pretty soon it’s guys, again. I’ll tell you, the girl’s got a gift for it! I’d think you’d be worried we’d take after her.”
“Mmm. No, I have great faith in you and Claire. Why don’t you play a secret little game, the two of you? Call it ‘heading Lisa Lou off at the pass and changing the topic of conversation before she can take charge.’”
Tiffani rolled her eyes at the weird ideas of parents. “All right,” she said, resigned. “She can come.”
Trish frowned. “Honey, not if it upsets you. We don’t want your birthday dinner to be ruined.”
“Oh, really?” asked Tiffani dryly. “I could’ve sworn you were more worried about the feelings of dear little Lisa Lou than about mine.”
“Well, we’re not,” Trish said quietly. “That is, we are concerned about her feelings, but we’re more concerned about yours. So you do whatever you think best. Just let us know.”
Tiffani huffed off to her room, and her parents looked at each other.
“That didn’t go so well,” her father murmured.
“Hm-mm,” his wife agreed. “It’s not easy, being sixteen.”
“Or green,” he added with a small grin.
“Who’s green?”
“I think we are we’re greenies at parenting sixteen year olds, anyway.”
“Just imagine I was sixteen when we met.”
“Maybe so, but you were way older than Tiff.”
“In some ways.”
“Way older,” he insisted. “I’d never have fallen in love with a little girl like Tiff, so you must have been.”
She smiled wisely at him. “But you were just a little boy.”
“Not! I was wise and mature beyond my years.”
“Right. About like Ricky Smedley.”
“No way!”
“Way,” she assured him, adopting the children’s retort.
He wound his arms around her. “Of course, Ricky is a nice young fellow. Seems to have his head on straight, even if he does act a bit silly around the girls.”
“Uh-huh. We were just their age, Jim, when we started liking each other.”
“So, if Ricky Smedley starts looking fondly at Tiffi, I should worry?”
“Right now, I think he’s looking fondly at Claire. But that can change.”
“I never changed, once I started looking fondly at you.”
“Well, you’re remarkably loyal and a little bit shy.”
“That helped, too, I reckon. Wow, that’s scary. It still seems like I had some pretty grown-up and serious ideas about you, even when I was too dumb to know how to express them. And Tiff and Ricky and Claire and Lisa Lou are that age, now. Do you think Tiff ever has such ideas about anyone?”
“Not that I know of and not that I would know, anyway. I suspect she’ll be pretty private about any romantic feelings she may have unlike Lisa Lou, who tells everyone who’ll listen.”
“What were you like?” he asked. “Did you tell your Mom about me?”
“I didn’t say much to anyone. Roxanne and Kathy were gone from home by then, but Merrie would’ve broadcast it nationwide, and teased the life out of me, and Mother and Dad would have been all concerned and curious, no matter who it was that I liked, so I confided in my diary and one or two friends. I suspect Tiff will be kind of like me, in that respect. Did you
tell anybody?”
He shook his head slowly. “Well, ultimately, I told Mac. We didn’t have very many secrets from each other. But he didn’t tease, or spread the word. No, I kept you kind of secret and special. Mama may have suspected, but if Daddy did, I wasn’t aware of it. We just didn’t talk about things like that at home. I don’t know if he ever knew who it was that sent me that first letter at the store.”
“I was so scared you wouldn’t answer.”
“I almost chickened out but that didn’t seem polite, and even though you were a couple of thousand miles away, I really wanted to stay in touch, somehow. Glad I did, by the way.” He ruffled her hair, and planted a kiss on her forehead.
“Me, too. Jim, I hope our kids find good people to marry! It makes such a difference.”
“It makes all the difference,” he agreed with a sigh, thinking sadly of those he knew whose choices may not have been quite so favored. “That, and being good people to marry.”
* * *
He knew he needed to meet with Sister Marybeth Lanier, but beforehand he fasted, prayed, and visited with Stake President Walker about the situation, and, thus fortified, met with her on Wednesday evening, when the Church was not busy with auxiliary meetings. His second counselor, Sam Wright, busied himself in the clerk’s office adjoining the bishop’s. He left his hall door open, hoping it would seem inviting. Marybeth walked in promptly, smiled, and sat down.
“Well, I’m sure Scott’s told you my position,” she stated brightly. “We might as well get down to business. I want my name removed from Church records.”
Bishop Shepherd looked at her for a moment, wishing he had known her better before all this began. She was a slender woman with fair skin and short, nearly black hair in a fringe of bangs above blue eyes. She seemed younger than Scott, but it was hard to tell.
“Sister Lanier, I was so sorry to hear about that,” he began. “Can we discuss your feelings a little bit? Why have you come to this decision?”
“There’s no reason for you to be sorry, it’s nothing you or anyone else has done. I don’t feel at all sad about it in fact, I’ve never felt such relief. I simply don’t believe anymore, that’s all.”
Mercies and Miracles Page 10