Castles in the Sand

by Sally John

  Natalie nodded somberly. Enlisting the support of the Martha Mavens wasn’t exactly a sweet victory.

  Forty-Eight

  By the time the Martha Mavens had finished praying together, Susan’s fears were long gone. Every aspect of the bizarre situation had been presented to the King of kings. She knew in her heart that He would be glorified. Nothing else mattered.

  “Amen.” Mildred smiled. “So be it.”

  Pure peace lit the elderly prayer warrior’s face. Everyone else appeared slightly dazed.

  Emmylou said, “Wow. He really is here, isn’t He?”

  Soft laughter rippled around the circle of women. Susan was convinced of His presence because for the first time in her life she had prayed out loud unself-consciously.

  Natalie stood. “Is anyone else hungry?”

  Plans were made for dinner. Natalie, Gwyn, and Tess left to buy takeout Chinese. Emmylou needed a nap and went to a bedroom. Leona busied herself in the kitchen and set the table.

  Susan slid to the rug and sat next to Mildred’s feet.

  “You’re humming, Susan.” Mildred leaned over and touched her cheek still damp from tears.

  “Am I?” Jesus Christ is risen today, Alleluia! The words revealed themselves now. Our triumphant holy day, Alleluia!

  “I saw you in the choir, dearie.” She winked. “You haven’t participated for years.”

  “I started singing again.”

  “God is moving in you. He is faithful. He gave you that voice for His purposes.”

  Susan reached up to Mildred’s lap and held on to her hand. “Am I betraying my husband?”

  “On the contrary, you may be saving him.” She adjusted her glasses. “I haven’t wanted to tell you, but it’s time you knew. The rumblings began long before yesterday’s incident. We’ve heard it among the seniors for quite a while. Tess named it when she said Drake is becoming too full of himself. With the phenomenal growth Holy Cross Fellowship has experienced in recent years, it’s understandable. But how long will it be acceptable? Last night Leona and I fellowshipped with a group made up of all ages. We overheard disturbing comments. They were just murmured. There was no railing against our pastor. It was obvious, however, that his announcement left a bitter taste in many a mouth and not for the reason he would imagine. No one thinks less of him because of Kenzie’s situation.”

  A chill ran down Susan’s spine. “He’s lost his way.”

  “We all do in some way or other. His digression is a little more public than ours. He feels if he admits it, we will abandon him. I want to show him the very opposite is true.”

  “I should…” be by his side. Another chill froze the words in her throat. If she were by his side, he would need her to support him. In the past, that always meant agreeing with him, no questions asked. If she dared voice her own opinion, he could not accept it. His resentment toward her relegated her to the category of…of— “Mildred, I feel like a concubine! Like my only purpose in life is to…is to…make him feel good! I can’t go back and support him by telling him he’s right.”

  She patted Susan’s hand. “Shh, now. God will carry you through this. We prayed for Drake to receive God’s healing touch. When that’s revealed, you two will be restored in a healthy marriage.”

  “I can’t see that. I see myself asking Rex for the name of a divorce lawyer!”

  “That seeing is not from our Lord.”

  “I wish I had your faith.”

  “You do, dearie. You do. It simply takes practice to recognize it and to keep leaning on it.” Mildred smiled. “Now just quiet yourself.”

  Susan closed her eyes and Mildred smoothed her hair.

  “Give that awful thought to Jesus. He’ll throw it away. He doesn’t want you to have it.”

  I don’t want it either, Lord. I don’t want to even consider divorce a possibility.

  “Think on things that are true and honorable and upright and pure.”

  Only Jesus fit that description. She thought what a beautiful thing it would be if instead of Mildred, He sat in that chair and caressed her head.

  After a few moments, Mildred said, “What do you hear?”

  She heard what she’d been hearing at the beach house all along. “Music.”

  Mildred chuckled. “Zephaniah 3:17.”

  Susan looked up at her.

  “‘He will rejoice over you with happy song.’”

  Susan smiled, listened for the pitch, and then began to sing aloud. “‘Hymns of praise, then, let us sing, Alleluia! Unto Christ our heavenly King, Alleluia!’”

  Forty-Nine

  “You okay?” Pepper braked the van at a stoplight and eyed Kenzie in the passenger’s seat.

  “Sure.” The girl gazed straight ahead, her voice a monotone.

  “You don’t have to do this. I mean, a slumber party with three middle-aged women at the beach on a Tuesday night?”

  “Achoo!” She turned to Pepper, a wide grin spread across her face.

  “I guess that means I’ve already annoyingly voiced this opinion once or twice.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  She moaned. “I am supposed to be salt! Why can’t I be salt, Lord? Doesn’t a rose by any other name smell as sweet? Doesn’t salt by any other name—even by the name of pepper—doesn’t it preserve and make things taste just right?”

  “Light’s green.”

  Pepper drove, tortoise speed along the crowded boulevard near the beach. It was the week of spring break for hordes of youth who descended upon Southern California. Parking anywhere near the house was out of the question. Parking within two miles of it was impossible.

  “Pepper, are you okay?”

  “Sure.”

  “You’re making that mumbo-jumbo sound.”

  “Oh, man! Is nothing sacred? How do you know about my mumbo-jumbo noise? Aidan doesn’t even know about it!”

  Kenzie giggled. “Actually, he does. Mick told him years ago how when you start doing it, that means you’re up to something.”

  “Well, I am not up to anything.”

  “You don’t have to do this either. I mean, a slumber party with my mom and aunt—two women you’ve just met—and me?”

  She inched the van forward. “Yeah, I do have to do this. My shipmate called.”

  “From the Grandmas out of Wedlock Boat?”

  “Grandmas and Aunts. Besides, it sounds like fun. A night away from the three little ones. Pizza, popcorn, sappy videos—if your aunt remembers to bring a television—and girl talk. Sign me up.”

  “I’m not too sure Mom knows how to make girl talk.”

  “Maybe she’s ready to try. My concern is that I don’t want to intrude. I want her to be able to make girl talk with you.” A new sensitivity toward her chafing, peppery personality had mushroomed overnight. She blamed it on the fast. Aidan’s incessant fake sneezing the previous day could have had a hand in it as well.

  “You won’t intrude. My mom really likes you.”

  “Well, there is that boat thing we have in common.”

  “Do you like my mom?” Kenzie resumed her monotone delivery, a hint again that something bothered her about the night’s outing.

  “Yes, I like her.”

  “I’m not sure if I do.”

  Pepper waited for more. When none came, she said, “Understandable. I don’t like Mick when he doesn’t do what I need him to do. You’ve been through a rough few months when you needed your mom in ways she wasn’t able to meet.”

  “The thing is, I’m not sure if I can trust her.”

  There it was, the thing that bothered Kenzie.

  The comment hung in the air. Pepper didn’t want to touch it. She refused to get between Susan and her daughter.

  At least not any more than she already was.

  Did Susan understand that Kenzie could not trust her? Was that why she invited Pepper to the party? Because she needed a buffer?

  Yeah. It made sense. Susan needed some salt…to make things taste just right.
r />   Okay. She could live with that.

  Standing in the beach house kitchen, Kenzie gawked at her mother. “A boycott? Are you crazy?”

  Pepper contorted her lips to keep from laughing out loud. The girl said exactly what she would have said if she weren’t so busy trying to be salt.

  Susan turned off the stove top burner under a whistling pot and grinned. “I’ve definitely gone round the bend. Shall we sit outside? Spring is in the air.”

  “Dad will never put up with it.” Kenzie picked up a plate of freshly baked peanut butter cookies.

  “Isn’t that the whole point of a boycott, though?” She poured hot water into waiting mugs. “He doesn’t have a choice but to put up with it.”

  “He’ll go ballistic in that subtle way of his.”

  “Probably.”

  The three of them carried mugs of tea to the patio table and sat less than twenty feet from the boardwalk. Pepper glanced toward it. Talk about crazy. Spring break was undoubtedly at its peak. Throngs of mostly young people jammed the pavement. Bikers and blade skaters crept along on their wheels. Joggers shuffled in place waiting for a chance to get around walkers. Although the sun waned and the air chilled, scantily clad sunbathers lingered on the sand.

  Kenzie held her head at an angle, as if in disbelief of her mother’s news. “All the Marthas are in on this?”

  “Mildred is the ringleader. She suggested it to Aunt Nattie in the first place. Even before Sunday.”

  Kenzie broke apart a cookie. “You mean they were riled up before his little speech?”

  Susan had told them about Drake’s announcement during the service, how he hadn’t asked directly for prayer for Kenzie. Pepper thought for the zillionth time how the poor girl didn’t stand a chance.

  Susan said, “Well, I guess you could say that. There are several in the congregation who…” Her voice trailed off.

  Pepper cringed. Come on, Susan, don’t clam up on your daughter now.

  “Several who what, Mom? You said nobody else knew about me being pregnant except Aunt Nattie and Uncle Rex. Not until you told the Marthas last week.”

  “That’s true. This part isn’t about you. I just learned there are others, not the Marthas, who have been…grumbling for a while…about other stuff.” She paused. “They think your dad has changed since he first started pastoring at Holy Cross, especially within the past year or so.”

  “Surprise, surprise. I could have told them that. And it started before last year.” She continued snapping pieces off the cookie, never taking a bite. Crumbs piled up on her plate.

  Susan said, “Kenzie, when did it start? In your opinion?”

  She shrugged a shoulder.

  Susan gave her a moment, but she uttered no reply. She rephrased the question. “What was the last good time you remember having with him?”

  Silence prevailed. From Kenzie’s rapid blinking, Pepper deduced she needn’t think long and hard to recall the last good time. The girl had visited the memory before.

  Finally she said, “It was here in August the year I was twelve. Aunt Nattie and Uncle Rex and the boys were staying at that other beach house down a ways, and we came to spend a day with them. Dad and I worked on a huge sand castle all afternoon.” She glanced up with a tiny smile. “He wouldn’t even let my bratty cousins smash it.” After a moment, she went on. “The next thing I remember was being thirteen and singing a duet with you in church, Mom.”

  “On Mother’s Day the following May.”

  Kenzie nodded.

  Pepper opened her mouth but quickly shut it.

  Evidently Susan intuited her unasked question. “He didn’t care for our selection. It was an upbeat version of a hymn. Kenzie arranged it. She’s always been incredibly gifted. Do you remember it, honey?”

  Kenzie scowled.

  Susan cleared her throat and then began to sing. “‘For the beauty of the earth, for the glory of the skies, for the love which from our birth over and around us lies, Lord of all, to Thee we raise this our hymn of grateful praise.’”

  Goosebumps prickled Pepper’s arms. “Your voice is incredible!”

  Susan smiled. “Thanks. That was how we sang the first verse. Then we started snapping our fingers.” She demonstrated. “And the pianist joined in. Ta-da boom. Ta-da boom. Second verse. ‘For the wonder of each hour of the day and of the night—’”

  “Hold it! Hold it!” Kenzie raised her hand in a stop gesture. “No, no, no. That’s not it. Wait a sec. Let me think.” She hummed and snapped and bobbed her head. “Okay. Try this. ‘For the wonder of each hour of the day and of the night, hill and vale and tree and flower, sun and moon and stars of light, Lord of all, to Thee we raise this our hymn of grateful praise.’”

  The voice of an angel.

  “‘For the joy,’” the angel’s mother joined in, “‘of human love, brother, sister, parent, child.’”

  Their voices wove in and out of each other’s, complementing, enriching. They finished with a cascade of “amens” and some passersby cheered. Pepper felt transported to another time and place. Words were inadequate to express her reaction.

  Kenzie stood up and bowed toward the applause.

  Susan grinned. “Yes, that was it.”

  The girl sat back down, her smile fading quickly.

  “Sweetheart,” her mother said, “I’m sorry I didn’t stick up for you that day. I’m sorry for all the times I didn’t. Like I said before, I hope you’ll forgive me, in time, for your own sake. And I hope you’ll forgive your father too.”

  “It was like he smashed every sand castle I ever made,” she whispered.

  “I know.”

  Kenzie sniffed a few times. “Hey, I thought this was supposed to be a slumber party for fun.”

  “It is!” Susan smiled and handed her a napkin. “That’s why I invited Pepper. She’s very good at spicing things up, don’t you think?”

  Mother and daughter turned to her expectantly.

  Pepper grabbed a napkin and pressed it to her face. Who needed salt or pepper? The Starr women were more than enough spice for any party.

  Fifty

  Natalie figured she’d lined up all her ducks in a perfect row. Slumber party accoutrements were loaded in the car: a portable combination television-VCR and a batch of sappy chick flicks. Carpool duties fell to another mom; her boys had a ride home from baseball practice. The high school girls soccer team she coached had finished practice early. A pasta casserole was in the oven, a favorite dinner of all three of her guys. And—most important—Rex had accepted his role in the boycott. He promised to have a heart-to-heart with his brother soon.

  In the kitchen she grabbed car keys from a dish and threw her arms around her husband. “You are such a man about this, Rexton Starr.”

  Smiling, he hooked his arms around her waist. “In a good way this time?”

  “Mm-hmm, definitely.”

  “Why? Because I agree with your wacky idea?”

  “Yep. Not every guy is man enough to say his wife is right.”

  He kissed her soundly on the lips. “Have fun tonight.”

  “Thanks.”

  The doorbell rang. She hesitated a split second before following him into the living room. It was time for her to go. But someone was at the door.

  Rex pulled it open and there stood Drake. The word apoplectic came to mind. His face was beet red and his breathing loud and irregular.

  Natalie could have sworn she heard wings flap as every single one of her ducks flew away.

  She really didn’t want to be there.

  Rex pulled his brother inside. “Drake, what’s wrong? Come in and sit down. Nat, get some water.”

  While Rex steered him toward the couch, she went back into the kitchen. Filling a glass with water, she longingly eyed the door that led to the garage and her packed car. Obviously Rex could have his talk right now. She would only be in the way. Drake seldom took her seriously. The wise thing to do was skedaddle. Her keys were still in her hand.
r />   The same hand holding on to the faucet.

  “Ick.” She and her family never drank tap water, but there she was, ready to offer it up to her brother-in-law.

  She flipped off the faucet, dumped the glassful down the sink, and refilled it with water from the bottled gallon in the fridge. How in the world could she totally bypass such an ingrained habit? Was she that strung out over the situation? That ticked off?

  That angry at Drake?

  The truth was, she didn’t take him seriously either. Deep down she considered him a joke. He could teach well, and he did offer unique biblical insights, but ages before news of Kenzie’s pregnancy, Natalie blamed him for Susan’s inability to express her own opinion about anything under the sun. If she thought long and hard enough about it, she could probably blame him for all manner of ills, from her team’s current losing streak to Southern California drought conditions.

  She groaned. Oh, Lord. Are we having a conversation?

  Of course He and she were.

  “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I don’t take him seriously. I treat him as disrespectfully as I perceive he treats me. Not exactly the spirit of Your golden rule. I suppose I should do something about this?”

  She pressed her lips together and inhaled deeply, her best attempt at listening. Susan was not the problem. Kenzie was not the problem. Drake was the problem—or Natalie herself was.

  He’s just like my dad. Always insists on being king of the hill. At least my dad had the decency to leave us alone.

  The pain cut through her chest, almost as sharp as a real knife slicing through it.

  Her father left the family when she was fourteen, never to be heard from again. He fell off the face of the earth and none too soon. She’d wished for years that he would disappear. After he was gone, peace filled their home and they all laughed again, she, her two sisters, and their mom, who made a solid living as a teacher.

  But…there was always a hole. Even with God’s healing touch on her heart, some hurt remained when she let it surface.