The First Ladies Club Box Set

by J B Hawker

  Seeing Ken’s puzzled look, she continued, “It’s okay, because I think so, too.”

  “But I love you exactly as you are!” Ken objected. “There’s no need for you to change a single thing.”

  “I am almost forty-four years old. I can’t keep behaving or dressing like an irresponsible teenager. I’m a pastor’s wife, after all.”

  “Don’t change because of that, Judy. My career is almost over. You needn’t try to live up to anyone’s idea of the proper wife for a minister.”

  “Almost over? What are you talking about?” Judy asked.

  “I’ve been thinking about it for some time, dear. I’m ready to retire soon. I’ve been considering turning in my notice to the presbytery.”

  “You never said anything,” Judy said. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I hadn’t quite decided, but my point is that you don’t need to change.”

  “Yes, I do. Our girls will soon be going off to college. I don’t want them to be embarrassed to find me wearing teenybopper styles when they bring friends home. And it’s time for me to take more responsibility, too. Your talk of retirement just reminds me that I need to know how to handle our finances, in case anything happens to you.”

  “I said I’m thinking about retiring, not planning to drop dead,” Ken said.

  “No one ever plans to drop dead, but they do. You’re older than I, so chances are I could be left on my own. Do you want to leave me helpless, or capable of handling things?”

  As Judy expressed herself, she felt her confidence growing and Ken seemed to notice the subtle transformation.

  “You’re right, of course. I hate to think of leaving you, at all, and I certainly don’t want to leave you helpless. Tonight, after dinner, we can go over our accounts together...just in case I drop dead before morning,” he concluded with a grin.

  Judy stood and squeezed Ken’s shoulder. He got up and wrapped his arms around her, quietly holding his child bride against his chest in a farewell embrace.

  “I’m fixing you a steak for dinner tonight,” she said as she stepped over to the kitchen island, smiling.

  “What? Real meat? None of your Satan’s substitute?” Ken teased.

  “That’s seitan, not Satan, silly, and it’s a nourishing wheat-based meat substitute. It’s very good for you.”

  “Well, it tastes like something the Devil cooked up, if you ask me.”

  “Don’t worry, tonight’s dinner features the option of beef steaks for any flesh-eater who isn’t partial to meat substitutes.”

  Good spirits restored, Ken went into the living room to read and wait for dinner.

  Chapter 13

  At the First Baptist Church, Melissa Gutermann stood by the chalkboard in the Juniors Sunday School classroom after presenting her proposals for changes to the women’s group. The atmosphere in the room was thick with silent disapproval. She shifted uncomfortably and jiggled the chalk in one hand.

  “Are there any questions?” she asked.

  The group’s president, Rodonna Reed, walked to the front of the room beside Melissa and turned to face the women.

  “That was very interesting, wasn’t it? Let’s give Melissa a hand for her very professional presentation, shall we?” she said, patting her palms softly together three times. “Thank you, Melissa,” she added, gesturing for her to take a seat. “You’ve certainly given us something to think about for the future.”

  Melissa, inwardly fuming at this dismissal, walked stiffly to the back of the room and sat in a metal folding chair.

  “Is there any other new business?” Rodonna asked. “There being no further business, I will entertain a motion to adjourn.”

  Someone dutifully made the motion, followed by a second, and the women began to gather their things to go into the Social Hall where refreshments awaited.

  Melissa remained in her chair until the room was empty, nodding with a grim smile at the others as they left the room. Rather than joining them to eat rich desserts and guzzle coffee, she marched across the parking lot to Jorge’s study in the adjacent church building.

  When she opened the door, she interrupted a conversation Jorge was having with Mitchell Crow, the church Moderator.

  “Oh, excuse me! I didn’t know you were busy,” she said.

  “I think we’re almost done here. Can you give us a moment?” he asked her, while looking at Mitchell.

  “I guess that’s about it, Pastor. I’d best get back to the missus,” Crow said, getting up.

  He nodded to Melissa as they passed in the doorway, then shot Jorge a meaningful look before going out, saying, “You think about what we were talking about, okay?”

  Jorge nodded in acknowledgment and waved Melissa into the office.

  “How did your presentation go? Are all the ladies onboard?” he asked when she was seated in the chair Crow had vacated.

  “No. None of the ladies is ‘onboard’ because Rodonna didn’t even let them discuss it. As soon as I’d finished, she took command and rudely dismissed me.”

  “Rudely?” Jorge asked, arching an eyebrow. “I’ve never known Rodonna to be impolite.”

  “I said she was rude, and she was. Why can’t you ever take my side against these backward small-town biddies, anyway? I wish we’d never come here,” Melissa said, crossing her arms.

  Jorge got up from behind his desk and closed the office door, then sat in a visitor’s chair next to his angry wife.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way. It makes me sad to see you so unhappy. However, we are here, now, and I have a commitment to this church and these people. Can’t you make more of an effort to like it here?” he asked, taking her hand.

  Melissa jerked her hand from her husband’s grasp and stood.

  “I’ve been making an effort, but these small-minded, narrow people don’t like me. I’ve tried, but no one’s meeting me half-way.”

  “Honey, that’s just not true. Remember all the ‘welcome’ gifts many of the members gave us when we arrived? We are invited out to lunch after church almost every week and the church has been very accommodating about letting us live at the Bostwich place.”

  Melissa started to interrupt, but Jorge lifted his hand and continued, “Not only that, but we are included in their prayers, and don’t forget, these people are not wealthy, but they are giving faithfully to pay my salary. They aren’t the enemy, Melissa. They are our benefactors, our family and the people we promised to serve and to love.”

  “You promised! I didn’t take any oaths and they aren’t my family. My family is back in Seattle. Maybe I should go back to them,” she said, immediately knowing from the look on Jorge’s face that, this time, she had gone too far.

  She stood beside her husband waiting for his response, not knowing whether to run out or apologize.

  Jorge looked at the floor while getting up from the chair and took several breaths to calm himself before turning to his wife.

  There was a sound of footsteps outside the office and the door handle rattled.

  “You in there, Pastor?” a voice called.

  “I’m coming, just a moment,” Jorge replied, before whispering to Melissa, “That sounds like Rodonna. I think you’d better go, now, and please be civil. We will continue our discussion at home this evening.”

  *

  The Falls twins and two of their friends were in Paisley’s room, trying on dresses, hoping to find something suitable for the prom.

  “That one looks neat, Paisley,” Zill said. “Why not wear that one? I’ve never seen it on you.”

  “That’s because it’s Tilly’s dress and it’s too frilly for me,” Paisley said.

  “Tilly likes frilly,” Astilbe chanted. “But Patsy likes... hey, what rhymes with ‘Patsy’?”

  “You could try to rhyme ‘Paisley’, instead,” Zill suggested.

  “But, ‘Paisley likes daisies?’ Nah, that doesn’t work. I know, ‘Pais likes grays’. Does that sound somber enough for you, Patsy?” Astilbe teased her s
ister, before continuing more seriously, “You could have Mom take the ruffles off, you know. That dress could be really elegant on you.”

  “I guess it could work, but won’t the neckline be too low without the ruffles?” Paisley asked.

  “Nah. This is our Senior Prom. We are supposed to look grownup. In fact, I think you should add a slit up the side, too,” Paisley’s friend, Hannah said.

  “Oh, yeah, that would be super sexy,” Zill agreed, nodding.

  Paisley frowned at her and shook her head.

  “Of course, that leaves me with no dress,” Astilbe said. “And I already told Ryan I was going to wear green. You don’t have a green dress for me to borrow, Patsy, but maybe Mom could dye that blue one you wore last year.”

  “You don’t want a home-dyed dress. They always look weird and sometimes the dye rubs off. You don’t want Ryan to get green hands from dancing with you, do you? Guys’ hands sweat when they slow dance, you know,” Hannah offered.

  “Hey, I know what,” Astilbe said. “Let’s go up to the attic and look in that trunk of Mom’s old clothes we used for dress-up. I remember there was a green dress. I’ll bet Mom could remodel it into something cool.”

  She was out the door in a flash, with the other girls right behind, on the hunt for perfect fashions for the big night.

  *

  In his office at the Presbyterian church, Pastor Falls slumped at his desk, his head in his hands, and breathed a heavy sigh.

  “Can I get you anything before I leave, Pastor?” Jane Wilson asked, standing in the doorway.

  Ken looked up at his secretary and managed a weak smile, “No, thank you, Jane. I’m fine, or I will be. See you tomorrow.”

  Jane opened her mouth as though she wanted to say something, then pressed her lips together, nodded and closed the door.

  Ken was exhausted. His meeting with the church elders had been frustrating. They seemed to expect miracles from him. Even after all these years together, they were still expecting him to bring new families into the church without making any changes in the worship service. Somehow, he was to make the church more appealing to newcomers without making it less appealing to the current members. Today the suggestion was for him to preach more “uplifting” sermons. They thought too much emphasis on sin and redemption was making people uncomfortable.

  “That’s what it is supposed to do!” he almost shouted, banging his fist on the desktop and making the pens jump out of his World’s Best Pastor mug and roll onto the floor. He threw a rueful glance at the ceiling and picked them up.

  The mug had been a gift from the congregation on the tenth anniversary of his pastorate in Bannoch. As he dropped the pens back into the mug, he shook his head. How long ago that seemed. Back then, he was still enthusiastic and hopeful of making a difference in the church. He’d had so many ideas and so much energy in those days. When had he lost the spark necessary to guide his recalcitrant flock in God’s ways?

  Perhaps he just needed a little rest to regain his perspective and get fired up. It had been years since he’d taken a real vacation from the church.

  Ken turned to his computer screen and pulled up his calendar to see what his schedule held for the rest of the month. Each daily square was filled with meetings and tasks for the entire month. Scanning to future months, he saw Jane had filled his days far into the future with all the regular and periodic work of the church. His secretary was certainly efficient but seeing his days all filled and scheduled weighed on him like a pile of quilts; each one comforting on its own but suffocating when added together. It was time to kick out from under before they smothered the life out of him.

  He pulled up his retirement account website and began to click on the links to Retirement Planning, feeling his burdens lift as he read.

  *

  Melissa spent the afternoon at home, mentally rehashing her argument with Jorge and going over her proposal for the women’s group. In anger and frustration, she hauled her luggage from the bedroom closet and threw it on the bed, preparing to pack and leave.

  The sight of the gaping suitcase evoked images of packing for her honeymoon when she’d been so happy and so in love.

  What was she doing? She was still in love, wasn’t she?

  Melissa slammed the case shut and slumped onto the bed. This wasn’t right. She’d gotten angry when Jorge told her she needed to make the best of things, but she had to admit he was right. They were here, now, and she couldn’t change that. She couldn’t change anything except her own attitude. Feeling a sense of shame, she dropped to her knees with tears of conviction in her eyes and began to pour her heart out to God.

  *

  When Jorge came home later, fearful of another confrontation with his wife, he was met with a shy smile and the enticing aromas of his favorite meal.

  “Uh, hi, hon. How was your afternoon?” he asked, tensing for a verbal assault, despite Melissa’s pleasant greeting.

  Instead, she kissed him and rested her head on his chest. With Jorge’s arms wrapped around her, she whispered, “I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?”

  Jorge lifted her chin to look into her eyes and kissed her. The gentle kiss soon became passionate.

  “How long before dinner is ready?” he whispered into Melissa’s neck.

  “As long as you want,” she said. “Let me turn the heat down.”

  “You turn it down out here, so we can turn it up in there,” Jorge grinned, taking her hand and leading her toward the bedroom.

  He was elated to have his sweet wife back for the first time since moving to Bannoch. With a murmured, “Thank you, Jesus,” he followed Melissa into their room and closed the door.

  Chapter 14

  Sergeant Forester walked the empty hallway of the Bannoch High School after his meeting with the school’s administrator, Judith Anne Horner.

  Mrs. Horner wanted to help, but she had only been with the school for a few years. None of the staff remained from Victoria’s time there.

  Sniffing the familiar aroma of floor wax, textbooks and sweaty teenagers, he flashed back to his own high school years, now more than a decade behind him. He stepped out into the morning sunshine with relief, leaving memories of his skinny, acne-prone, insecure teenage self behind.

  Pulling his phone from his uniform pocket, he selected Ransom’s number and touched the screen.

  “Forester here, Boss. No luck on friends of the deceased, but I was able to get the names of a couple of her teachers from back then. They are both retired, and I’ve got addresses from their retirement accounts. Lucky for us, they’re still alive.”

  Detective Ransom directed his sergeant to text him the contact information and return to the office. Ransom would run down background information on the retired teachers and be ready to join Forester on visits to their homes. He didn’t want to waste any time moving the case forward.

  *

  “I asked you to stop by today, Judy, because I wanted time to consider all the options and I thought we should discuss your condition in person, rather than over the phone,” Doctor Haleby said.

  Judy squirmed on the chair in the doctor’s office, making the leather seat squeak. The doctor’s ominous words were frightening her.

  “What condition?” she asked in a small voice.

  “After reviewing your lab results and the ultrasound, it confirmed my original diagnosis. I’m afraid there is no doubt.”

  “What? Am I dying?” Judy interrupted.

  “Oh, no. Nothing like that. I’m sorry, but you are definitely pregnant,” he said.

  “Pregnant!?” Judy cried.

  “With twins,” the doctor intoned.

  Judy’s mouth hung open as she tried to take in what the doctor said. Her stomach plunged, but at the same time her heart leaped with joy.

  “I’m having another set of twins?” she asked, to be sure she’d heard him correctly.

  “That’s right. Fortunately, you aren’t very far along, so we have plenty of time to consider all the op
tions.”

  “Options?” Judy asked. “Why do you keep talking about options?”

  “You will want to terminate the pregnancy as soon as possible, of course, but, as you know from my work at the crisis pregnancy center and on various pro-life committees, I do not perform terminations. I do not believe in them, except where the mother’s health is in danger. That being said, we need to decide where you will have the procedure done.”

  “Why on earth would you want me to, uh, terminate my babies?” Judy asked, rapidly blinking away tears.

  “Multiple births are always high-risk, as you know, and when we add in the age factor, I simply cannot advise carrying this pregnancy to term,” the doctor responded.

  “But, I’m not that old and I’m perfectly healthy,” Judy protested.

  “Mid-forties is considered elderly in the obstetric sense, Judy. Your body is well past its prime and you must be aware of the increased chances of complications for both you and the babies. Trying to carry to term could easily result in death or injury,” he argued. “At this stage the abortion process is relatively simple, and I can recommend several competent physicians in Tillamook willing to take care of you.”

  “I’m sorry, Doctor, but God blessed me with these babies for a reason and I’m not going to kill them. If you won’t take care of me through this pregnancy, I’ll find another doctor who will,” Judy stated as she stood to go, no longer in danger of weeping.

  “Please, sit down,” Haleby said, before she reached the doorway. “There’s no need to get upset. While I strongly advise you to change your mind while it is still a simple procedure, if you are determined to try to keep the pregnancy, I will see that you receive the best of care. However, before you make a final decision, promise me you will speak with your husband. Ken may convince you against taking the risk.”

  “Very well,” Judy said. “I’m eager to give Ken the good news and I am sure he will want these babies as much as I do.”