The First Ladies Club Box Set

by J B Hawker

  “Are you saying a woman needs to live like a nun to be a successful pastor?” Elizabeth challenged.

  “It’s different when you are already married…” Merrill began, when she was interrupted by Judy’s cell phone blaring out a tinny version of In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida.

  “Oh, gosh! Is that the time? I should be home by now,” Judy moaned before answering it.

  “Hi. Yes, I was just on my way out the door. See you in a few minutes,” she said into the phone.

  “That was my husband. This has been fun, but I’ve got to dash. I told Ken I’d be home before now.”

  “Could you drop me off on your way?” Merrill asked. “I should be getting back to see how Ryan’s doing and I don’t think Elizabeth is ready to leave, yet.”

  “Sure,” Judy replied.

  “So, will you be coming to the next club meeting, Merrill?” Gwennie asked, evoking a few surprised expressions on the other ladies’ faces.

  “I will if my schedule allows it. Just let me know the time and date. Thanks so much for asking me to join you.”

  “Sure. The more the merrier, I always say,” Gwennie replied.

  When Judy and Merrill had gone, Eskaletha stood in the center of the room looking around at those who remained.

  “So, is that a unanimous vote, then? Are we in agreement with Gwennie that Merrill should become a member?”

  *

  When Merrill returned home, the porch light was on, but the rooms inside were dark.

  There was no light showing around Ryan’s closed bedroom door.

  She opened it quietly. Peering into the room, she could see Ryan’s shape in the bed. He appeared to be sleeping, so she closed the door softly before turning on the kitchen light.

  Merrill felt a pang of guilt for leaving Ryan alone with his grief all evening while she was out having fun with her new friends. It had seemed perfectly reasonable at the time, but felt selfish, now.

  Sending up a heartfelt prayer for greater wisdom and compassion in her changed situation, she locked up and climbed the stairs, feeling a new appreciation for the weight of responsibility she had taken on.

  *

  Ryan was quiet on the drive back from his parents’ memorial service in Portland the next day, but Merrill was proud of how well he held up, under the circumstances.

  “It was good to see your mother’s family, wasn’t it?” she commented.

  When Ryan failed to respond, she cast a quick glance his way and saw him wiping a tear from his cheek.

  “It’s okay to let your sadness show, dear. You don’t need to hold back around me, you know. I’ve shed quite a few tears, too. Your folks were dear friends.”

  “I know, Auntie Merri. Lots of people loved my mom and dad. That’s why I can’t understand it,” Ryan said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why would God just let them die like that, when they were doing so much good and so many people needed them?”

  “I can’t answer that. There are some things we can’t know until we join your folks in Heaven. That’s where faith comes in,” she responded. “We must trust that even this painful loss will be for our good and God’s glory.”

  “It just seems like God punished Mom and Dad for trying to do His work.”

  “But, death, for a Christian, is a reward, Ryan. Your parents are in the Lord’s presence, just where they have yearned to be. It’s those of us left behind who must have faith and work through our grief.”

  Ryan was quiet for a few more miles before speaking again.

  “Aunt June, my mom’s sister, wants me to come and live with them in Beaverton,” he mumbled.

  “What’s that? I didn’t quite hear what you said.”

  “She told me after the service today that she wants me to come and live with her and Uncle Brad.”

  “What did you say to her?” Merrill asked, with a worried frown forming behind her sunglasses.

  “I told her I’d have to check with you. Do you want me to go? She said they’ve got plenty of room since my cousins moved out.”

  “Is that what you would like to do?”

  “Well, you’re going to be real busy with your new church and all, and I’m crowding you in your small apartment, aren’t I?”

  “Not at all! I love having you with me. I’m honored your father made me your guardian and I’m more than happy to abide by his wishes. Please take some time to think about this. You shouldn’t make any major decisions, right now. Let’s give ourselves a few months before we talk about it again, okay?” she said.

  “Okay,” Ryan said, and sat back looking relieved.

  “You will want to finish out the school year here before making another move, anyway. Are you nervous about starting a new school on Monday?”

  “Nah. School’s the same almost everywhere. I’ve been to lots of different mission schools, so I’m used to it,” Ryan said.

  “Well, one of the ladies at the party I went to Friday has two daughters in your school. She’s going to bring them by tomorrow afternoon, so you can get a head start on making some new friends.”

  Concentrating on driving, Merrill didn’t see her nephew’s unenthusiastic eye-rolling reaction to this news.

  *

  Merrill handed a serving dish to Ryan, who scraped the last of the crusty, golden potato casserole onto his plate.

  She smiled to see how her nephew’s appetite was improving.

  “Did you enjoy the worship service this morning, Ryan?”

  “It was okay,” he shrugged. “I could have done without all the old ladies clucking over me, though.”

  “Everyone wanted to make you feel welcome. They were shocked and saddened by what happened to your folks and just want to help, somehow,” Merrill said.

  “Yeah. I mean, I know, but it made me feel like a freak or something.”

  “Was your Sunday school class okay? What was the teacher talking about?” Merrill asked.

  “To tell you the truth, I wasn’t paying much attention. I mean, after reading over the lesson book I could see it was on the Beatitudes, but it was presented without any depth, you know? I mean, it was pretty basic stuff, so I just sorta zoned out. I mean, I memorized all those ‘blessed are they’ years ago, you know?” Ryan said around a mouthful of cheesy potatoes.

  “How many students were in your class?”

  “Me and three girls and the teacher.”

  Ryan cleaned his plate, then gulped down his milk and stood.

  “May I be excused, Aunt Merri? I’d like to go for a walk on the beach.”

  “Of course. Could you help me clear the table first? And, don’t forget, Judy and her daughters are coming by around three, so watch the time.”

  “Sure,” he replied without enthusiasm, as he carried the plates to the sink.

  Clean-up finished, Ryan turned to leave, but Merrill stopped him.

  “There are dangerous sneaker waves on the beaches here. Please keep an eye on the surf,” she cautioned.

  “I’ll be careful.”

  “Oh, and look both ways before crossing the highway. The cars just fly by and the drivers won’t expect any pedestrians to be crossing down there.”

  “I’ll be fine, Aunt Merrill,” Ryan said with a sideways grin, then patted her on the head and left.

  Ryan loped easily down the path to the highway, strolled along the shoulder as he waited for a few passing cars, and jogged across.

  On the other side, he slip-slided his way down the sandy trail to the beach and paused on the edge of the damp, hard packed sand, gazing out across the steel-gray waves.

  If this were the Atlantic, he could imagine he was looking across to his old home in Nigeria. His imagination wasn’t up to picturing the distance across the Pacific, the Asian continent and most of Africa, though.

  Ryan strolled along the small beach, kicking at the sand and occasionally picking up stones or shells and flinging them into the surf.

  He felt so empty.

  When he’d fir
st learned of his parent’s murders he’d been in shock, and then the intense pain of all he’d lost consumed him, but now he didn’t seem to feel anything.

  “What’s the matter with me?” he mumbled. “Am I some kind of freak?”

  He recalled the last time he saw his parents, the day before their deaths.

  He’d been rushing around getting his things into his backpack for the school trip, thinking of no one but himself. He’d even snapped at his mother when he couldn’t find his favorite shirt.

  In his mind’s eye he saw her amused smile as she pulled the shirt out from under his bed and handed it to him.

  Ryan gasped at the memory and doubled over in a fresh spasm of grief.

  He dropped to the sand and pounded it with his fists, howling his anger into the wind.

  Rolling onto his back, exhausted, he began to pray out his frustration and confusion to God.

  Finally spent, he sat up and checked the time on his phone.

  Seeing how late it was, he jumped to his feet and scrambled up the sandy bank, hurrying to get back on time, as he’d promised Merrill.

  Although he appreciated her kind intentions, he didn’t have very high expectations for the visit.

  Climbing easily up the hillside to the church, Ryan felt lighter and cleaner.

  He still carried a cloud of sadness for his mom and dad, but his emptiness and rage were gone.

  Chapter 10

  Merrill was in the apartment living room with Judy and her daughters when Ryan rushed in, brushing sand from his clothes.

  “Ah, here’s Ryan, now,” she said, jumping up.

  “Did you have a nice walk on the beach?” Judy asked, after Merrill made the introductions.

  “Yes, ma’am. It’s a totally awesome little cove. Very private and peaceful,” Ryan replied.

  “We used to picnic there when the twins were little. Do you remember, girls?” Judy asked, trying to draw her daughters into the conversation.

  “I guess so,” Paisley replied with a shrug, at the same time Astilbe said, “We went to so many beaches, who remembers?”

  “Ryan will be starting at the high school tomorrow. He’s a junior. What year are you girls in?” Merrill asked.

  “We’re sophomores,” Astilbe chirped over Paisley’s terse, “Tenth.”

  “You guys always talk at the same time?” Ryan asked.

  The sisters glanced at each other with closed mouths, and then Paisley pointed to Astilbe.

  “You go first, Tilly,” she said.

  “Thanks, Patsy,” Astilbe said, before turning to Ryan.

  “Just because we are twins, people talk to us like we are a single unit. It’s hard to know who’s supposed to answer, so we both do.”

  “Girls, must you use those old-fashioned nicknames? You know how I feel about them,” Judy complained.

  “Oh, Mom, Paisley is so artsy-sounding, and no one can even pronounce As-til-bee. Besides, Patsy has called me Tilly, forever.”

  “I think Tilly and Patsy are cute names,” Ryan said, making the girls blush.

  “Hey, Mom, how’s about Tilly and me show Ryan around town while you and Pastor Bishop chat?” Paisley asked, dimpling sweetly at her mother.

  Judy looked warily at her daughters. With their identical curly red hair, rosy cheeks and angelic expressions, no one would ever imagine the mischief these two were capable of instigating.

  “Well, if Ryan wants to go for a walk around the town, I suppose it’s okay. But keep your phones on, in case we need to call you, and don’t be gone long,” she said.

  The trio of youngsters quickly exited, leaving Judy and Merrill alone.

  “So, how was church this morning? Were your people all upset over the suicide? Was the poor soul who died a member of your community?” Judy asked, settling back into the sofa cushions.

  “I heard the woman who died was from Portland. She had no connection to our church, as far as anyone can tell. Who knows what led her to our bell tower?”

  “Well, that’s a blessing, anyway, that she wasn’t a member.”

  “There is another silver lining, too, although I feel sort of crass for mentioning it. Our attendance was almost double this morning. Lots of curious people checking us out, I suppose. I hope they weren’t too disappointed that we worship in the annex, instead of the church building, and that there were no bodies hanging from the ceiling,” Merrill said.

  “Do you suppose any of those people will be back?”

  “I would like to think one or two might have gotten something from the service and will want to return. I am determined to herd my flock back into our beautiful sanctuary for Sunday worship, where they belong, and a few more members would be a help.”

  “How did Ryan do on his first day at your church? Did your congregation make him feel welcome?” Judy asked.

  “They certainly tried. A few of the older ladies may have overdone it, and made him a little uncomfortable, but Ryan seems to have connected with our organist. Peri is older than Ryan, of course, but still younger than most of our members, and he was orphaned, too, so they have that in common.”

  *

  As usual, while preparing for bed, Merrill mentally reviewed her day.

  She smiled when thinking about how Judy’s twins seemed so taken with her tall, good-looking nephew.

  It was kind and thoughtful of Judy to bring them over. She might lack tactfulness, but she had a truly good heart.

  After recalling her visit with Judy, Merrill’s mind drifted back to that morning at church.

  During the pre-worship prayer time, Merrill had been gratified to find all of her deacons waiting for her.

  They seemed more comfortable participating in the prayer circle, too, but when she asked for God’s blessing on the congregation’s speedy return to the old church sanctuary, Manota Addison had sort of gurgled and abruptly dropped her hand from Merrill’s shoulder.

  After closing the prayer, Merrill looked up to see a dark frown on the woman’s face before she scurried off.

  Merrill was puzzled by Manota’s reaction but supposed she might have been suffering from a sudden attack of indigestion.

  She prayed now for Manota’s health, just in case.

  After the worship service, as the congregation was leaving, Merrill found herself cornered by Thom Ortello.

  She had been dismayed to see her textbook wedged under his massive arm as he maneuvered his bulk to her side, but she was determined to pour oil on the troubled waters she’d so unwisely stirred up at their last meeting.

  “Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Ortello. It’s good to see you this morning,” she began, reaching out to shake Thom’s hand.

  Ortello flipped the book open to a pre-marked page and thrust it into her outstretched palm.

  “How do you explain this?” he challenged, thumping the page with one sausage-like index finger.

  “What do you mean?” Merrill asked in surprise.

  Ortello merely tapped the page once again, so Merrill turned the book around to see which passage had upset him.

  He indicated a paragraph where she gave reasons for the verses in question to be interpreted as instructions for wives to behave modestly in the congregation, rather than an admonition for all women to remain silent in church.

  The text brought in Biblical references to women in leadership positions in the early church to underscore this interpretation.

  “What is it about this paragraph that troubles you, Mr. Ortello?” Merrill asked, handing the book back to him.

  “All of it. It’s a load of garbage. Bad theology is what it is,” he responded. “Sounds like a bunch of women’s lib ideas. You never said anything about your liberal leanings when you tried out for this job.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that my professor and I are in error, but did you read the whole book? I think we made some good arguments for our position.”

  “I don’t need to read the whole thing to know it’s a lot of nonsense. You’re entitled to your opinions
, of course, but I do think it is too bad of you to come here under false pretenses,” he said, some of the belligerence leaving his tone.

  “I’m really very conservative, in spite of being a female pastor,” Merrill replied. “I believe in Biblical inerrancy and every word of the Apostle’s Creed. I didn’t preach about this particular passage from my thesis before, because it is such a small part of who I am. I did answer all the questions the members asked me at the interviews, though. I suppose I thought this church would not have considered calling a clergywoman if there were any objections to my gender.”

  “Humph! Well, maybe we didn’t have much choice. Did you ever think of that?” Ortello said.

  Merrill noticed a knot of observers lingering close by with ears perked, so she prayed for wisdom to know how to respond.

  She chose honesty.

  “As a matter of fact, I did consider that possibility, Thom. I knew this congregation was struggling and I prayed mightily for the Lord’s leading. I believe it is His will for me to be your pastor at this time. We may not agree on every theological nuance, but we all love our Savior and want to please Him, so if we are faithful, He will bless us.”

  When Ortello failed to respond, she turned to the cluster of bystanders, including them in her next remarks.

  “Please, won’t you join us in praying for God’s blessing on our ministry and the church family? I know everyone here is eager to see how the Lord plans to use us for our good and His glory in the days ahead,” she said, gesturing for the others to gather closer.

  “Thom, would you lead us in a prayer for our ministry together?”

  Ortello swallowed hard, looked at those awaiting his response, and bowed his head.

  After a moment’s silence he began to solemnly intone a prayer for unity and God’s blessing.

  When he first began, his high-flown phrases made Merrill doubt his sincerity, but gradually his words lost their pomposity and he began to pray from his heart.

  She had no hesitation before adding her own emphatic, “Amen,” to the others when he finished.