The Spindle Chair

by Shellie Arnold

  Don’t think about it. Don’t think about the past.

  No, he’d think about Easter … and preaching … and Laurie.

  He forced a smile.

  ***

  Laurie had watched a chameleon once, fascinated by its ability to change from green to brown to green again, moving from leaf to branch to another leaf. As a child, she’d marveled at the creature’s ability to adapt by altering itself.

  Watching Pierce now, Laurie’s heart winced. She knew her husband’s heart had just taken a step away from hers.

  She’d never sensed a distance between them like she did in that moment. Right in front of her, some part of him closed off, like a vault sealed by a thick, steel door. As she watched him change into clean clothes, she all but heard the tumblers drop.

  A suffocating sadness bore down on her. The sinking sensation she’d experienced their first morning here had been true. Real. Their marriage was threatened, but not from the outside. Did Pierce not notice the unnamed, unidentified issue that had wedged between them, pushing them apart?

  She needed to pray, talk to Kay, do something to discover a way to stop the chasm from growing wider and deeper.

  Pierce chose the solid tie and looped it around his neck. She turned away before he could see her tear-filled eyes reflected in the glass and saw the sheet on his desk entitled “Change.” With a shaky hand, she lifted the paper and cleared her throat. “Is this for today?”

  She recognized the silence that followed. He was stalling. Or picking what to say. Why?

  She turned to him, still holding the paper, and decided to wait him out. This time, she wouldn’t be the first to speak.

  Pierce yanked at the crooked Windsor knot, untied the whole thing, and began again. “Yeah,” he said. “I was, uh, reviewing my notes.”

  His uncomfortable glance in her direction said he didn’t want her to read what he had written. Again, why?

  She put the paper back on the desk. “Was there something wrong with the other suit? A stain?”

  He retightened the tie, straightened the ends. “No, but thanks for bringing these over.”

  His tone was one he might use with a stranger. On second thought, no, he was friendlier with strangers.

  “You’re more nervous than you realized?” She kept her tone calm, her face motionless, but her heart pleaded. Please, please talk to me.

  “You could say that.”

  He walked to her, wrapped his arms around her. Did he not feel the separation?

  Finally, she closed her eyes. “You’ll be great,” she said quietly. “This is where you’re supposed to be.”

  ***

  Julie Matthews’ angelic voice rose and fell with the choir. The notes flowed smoothly, seamless as a rainbow and just as pretty. No matter how many times Pierce heard Julie sing, his thoughts always went to heaven and what worship around God’s throne must sound like.

  But today, the melody brought little comfort. Laurie’s words echoed in his head as he waited to begin his sermon. He was where he was supposed to be, doing what he was supposed to do, wasn’t he?

  Last Monday he’d tasted something wonderful in the newfound truth about change, something that brought a hunger for spiritual growth like none he had ever experienced. Yes, he’d awakened on the floor the very next morning, but he’d been fine until today.

  So what was this frightening sensation of being out of control, like he had turned a corner and there was no going back? Or someone else was driving the car, and the road always returned him to his first five years, to his father’s rejection?

  When the choir’s last song faded, Pierce took his place at the pulpit.

  “Happy Easter, everyone.” Several hundred people sat shoulder to shoulder in the rustic building. “I know most expect a traditional Easter sermon every year. We usually hear about Jesus’ prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane, the Trial, the Crucifixion, and the Resurrection. Instead, I want to tell you about my prayer time last Monday.”

  He shared what he’d read and prayed. The perspective that Jesus’ death was the biggest, most difficult, and painful change He could have been asked to experience.

  “Change and the pain it brought were not Jesus’ enemies. Rather, these were essential tools that the Father used for our benefit. Without Jesus’ death, our sins couldn’t be forgiven.”

  He descended from the stage, stopped directly in the center aisle.

  Without warning, his lungs clamped shut. His fists clenched at the idea of nails penetrating Jesus’ flesh.

  Breathe, he thought. Finish. So you can leave.

  His feet itched to run. Yet a part of him wanted to stay right there, suspended in a familiar place, safe from the unknown path ahead.

  “There’s a particular change I’m praying about for myself. Something I want God to resolve in me once and for all.”

  All eyes, including Laurie’s, focused on him. “Maybe some of you feel that way. You need change. At your job, in your family. Maybe the change you need is salvation, simple forgiveness so you can begin a new relationship with God.

  “Maybe the change you need is like mine. It’s personal, inside you. I’m inviting you to come forward and let me pray with you, for you. I appreciate your prayers for me. I know God will work with all of us right where we are.” He waited, sweat dripped inside his collar as the pianist took her cue and played softly. Would anyone respond?

  “Please consider yourselves dismissed,” he said. “But I’ll wait here in case anyone needs prayer.”

  A muscular young man seated halfway back stood and walked forward. Then an older gentleman. A woman. A family. More than a dozen more came forward and waited their turn.

  “God, please heal,” he prayed. “We ask You to intervene. Bring the change we desperately need to follow Your plan.”

  Sensing their desperation, he wept as he prayed. For some, asking God for help was a last-ditch effort. Their troubles shook him, an unexpected earthquake in his soul.

  Or was that his own gripping fear, despair, and hopelessness?

  After he prayed with the last person, Pierce crossed behind Laurie, who talked with Julie and Rick Matthews.

  “Your voice is so beautiful. I love to hear you sing,” Laurie said.

  Pierce tapped her shoulder. “I’ll walk home. See you in a few.”

  “Great sermon,” Rick offered as he nodded in his direction.

  “Thanks.”

  A heaviness settled in his chest, making breathing difficult. If he stopped moving, he might not be able to take another step. He continued out the side door, forced his body to slog through his own emotional quicksand, across the parking lot, and into the canopy of trees.

  If only he could be alone. But solitude wouldn’t be possible until much later. His parents were coming for Easter lunch.

  If only he weren’t wearing a suit. He could lie down and sleep on the soft, pine needle-covered ground.

  And then he remembered. Remembered when he lived on the old farm with Daddy and Mama, before being sent away to live with Daniel and Kay. Remembered that, after going to the outhouse at night, he used to lie down and sleep on the rug by Mama’s bed.

  ***

  Laurie tidied her kitchen as Pierce walked his parents to their car just before sunset. While she’d enjoyed talking with Kay all Easter afternoon, she couldn’t help noticing how little Pierce had spoken at all. She’d hoped he would talk with Daniel about whatever was bothering him.

  She stood alone in the kitchen, squeezing her eyes tight as worry bubbled inside. Her taut nerves tightened like a stretched rubber band. If Pierce came back and tried to pretend nothing was wrong, she’d shatter into a million pieces.

  Exhausted, she leaned back against the kitchen counter. “Heavenly Father, I know this is supposed to be a day of new beginnings and celebration. Instead, it feels like an ending, because my husband turned away from me today. You know he’s struggling with something. He even told the whole church. Please help me know what to do.
”

  Pierce came through the front door and spent an inordinate amount of time closing it, checking the lock, then repositioning the dining room chairs. Laurie raised her brow.

  The phone rang. She watched him answer, listen, and nod, all the while avoiding her gaze.

  He hung up, reached for his keys. “That was Gilbert. Something’s wrong with Angus.”

  “Do you want me to come too?” She stepped toward him.

  Part of her hoped he would say yes and that he needed her to be there. Part of her wanted him to say no because she wasn’t sure she was ready to address the widening distance between them.

  He turned from the door and watched her, waiting. “Only if you want.”

  Great. Why wasn’t he this agreeable when she wanted him to talk about what was bothering him?

  “Or I can call you if it’s serious.”

  That’s what she figured. Neither of them wanted to be alone with the other. Happy Easter.

  “Yeah. Call me.”

  She heard his car leave as she went to shower. Later, she re-entered the quiet kitchen, noticed the message light blinking on the phone, and pushed the button.

  Beep. “Laurie. Doctor says Angus is fine. Probably had indigestion from eating too much for Easter dinner. I’ll be a while.”

  She sat up in bed reading Psalm 91. He will call on me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble. Any other time the passage would have offered comfort and peace, but not this time. And she was so horribly tired. Staying awake until Pierce came home? Not possible.

  She sank into her pillow as tears over the distance between her and Pierce threatened to fall, her body so heavy she wondered how she’d managed to stay upright through the day. Her shuttered eyes barely registered the sweeping headlights from Pierce’s car as he parked it in front of their home.

  ***

  Pierce found Laurie asleep.

  The bedside lamp shone on her beautiful face, now blotchy from crying, with a tear-dampened tissue crumpled in her hand on her open Bible. She lay curled up on her side of the bed, on top of the covers, shivering from the chill the showers and cold front had brought to Easter evening. He covered her gently with the quilt and took the tissue from her hand.

  “Shh,” he whispered as she warmed and relaxed. “I love you.”

  He stripped to his boxers, silently slid into bed, and wrapped an arm around her. He pressed his face to her hair. God, these feelings came after the miscarriage. I’m afraid if I tell her that, I’ll hurt her, he prayed.

  You already are hurting her.

  He lay with her in the dark and tried to relax. He would never hurt her on purpose. She knew that, didn’t she?

  He inhaled her scent, told himself to calm down and concentrate on enjoying the feel of her against him. Finally, he slipped into sleep the way he always did, with Laurie in his arms.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Laurie’s eyes popped open to Saturday morning’s dawn. Her career and her marriage were back on track.

  Pierce had woken her Monday morning with kisses. Later, he’d called from the church saying the board wanted her input on designs for renovating the youth building. Then, he’d surprised her last night, taking her to a quaint Italian restaurant outside of town, near Daniel and Kay’s condo, to celebrate the church being her first client in Rowe City. After reviewing her proposal, the board wanted her to handle the renovation. The focused attention had brought blessed relief to her wounded heart. Maybe the move had simply gotten them out of sync.

  She rose and padded to the kitchen. Dinner had been delicious. And the way they had loved each other late into the night … Her skin still had a warm, silky feeling. What they had done together was so beautiful, so complete, as if they’d reaffirmed their love without words.

  She made coffee, sat at the kitchen table, and opened her Bible. She leafed through her prayer journal, noted the dates and scolded herself for not re-establishing this morning habit sooner. Moving was so disruptive. She scanned the dates again, flipping the pages.

  Her period was late.

  She glided her pen over the calendar, once again counting the days. Was she really eleven days or more late? Somehow she’d lost track or inadvertently attributed the lateness to stress. Then she had forgotten about it, completely.

  Until this morning. Could it be true this time? A miracle after all the disappointments?

  She laid aside her pen. Spread both hands on the table to steady herself.

  “Dear God, if I’m pregnant—finally, truly pregnant—please keep my baby safe. Let me carry this child to term.”

  Laurie placed a hand on her belly. “Are you in there, little one? Are you really in there? If you are, I already love you so very, very much.”

  She should take a pregnancy test. She knew she should, but she almost didn’t want to know. If it was positive, for the next eight or nine months she’d battle dread that at any moment she might miscarry again.

  She walked to the bathroom. Her hands shook as she opened a twin-pack box of pregnancy tests she kept under the sink, and followed the instructions.

  Pregnant. The little plus sign said so. Oh, God, when did You do this?

  She. Was. Going. To. Have. A. Baby.

  Pierce’s baby. Seven … No, by then, eight years after becoming his wife.

  Suddenly, she understood. The unusual tiredness and strange energy bursts. The random bouts of nausea and ravenous hunger—symptoms she hadn’t experienced the first time. The fact her pants felt tighter over the past several days.

  She was pregnant. Pregnant!

  Don’t be scared, she told herself. They had waited so long.

  Laurie blinked slowly. The little pink cross was still there. She rose and splashed water on her face. How far along was she? A few weeks? A month?

  It seemed impossible. Yet, at the same time, hadn’t she sensed something had changed?

  She eyed herself in the mirror above the sink, noticed her face was a little drawn, her eyes sunken. She turned sideways to view her profile, pulled her nightgown tight from behind. Yes, her regular clothes would have to be put away for a while. How fun!

  Maybe that’s what the little episodes of emotional turmoil between her and Pierce had really been all about. Maybe he wasn’t really having as many moments of sadness as she thought. Instead, maybe her own feelings of upset and unbalance had created the distance between them.

  Pregnancy could do that to you, couldn’t it? Make you extra sensitive? Yup, being pregnant explained it all.

  “Heavenly Father. I am in awe of You and Your timing.”

  She splayed both hands across her stomach. “Dear God, thinking about this baby makes me love You even more. Please protect this child.”

  She couldn’t wait to tell Pierce their dream had finally come true. Tell him and see him smile, maybe laugh, grab her and hug her. They would pray together, thank God together, talk about names. They would call his parents. Kay would be so excited and rejoice with her. And Daniel? He would baby her, fuss and bother, drill her about what she should and shouldn’t do. He would be absolutely incorrigible.

  She drew a deep breath. Pierce would be the most wonderful father. He would be fun and loving. He would care for her, make her take care of herself, and then it wouldn’t be long before they would go to the hospital and have their baby together. Then they would bring him or her home and—

  A nursery. Finally she’d get to decorate her child’s nursery. She’d locate her books about pregnancy, a baby’s growth, and that first year of life and read them all again.

  She stood, lifted her mother’s pearl earrings from a silver dish on the countertop, and inserted them with a smile as joyful tears spilled out. I miss you, Mom. Today, I miss you and Daddy so much. She would honor them by striving to be as good a parent as they were.

  “Oh, Jesus, thank You. Thank You!” She could practically feel God pour joy into her, like that verse in Isaiah—God gives the oil of joy instead of mourning.

 
She left the bathroom and crawled across the bed to where her husband still slumbered.

  “Guess what?” She tried to hold in the giggles, but couldn’t. “Pierce.” She laughed even as more tears rolled down her face. “Wake up!”

  ***

  It was Saturday. Yes, Pierce knew it was definitely Saturday, which meant he should have been allowed to sleep unhindered.

  He had been dead to the world. Completely comatose, as usual at this time of the morning. His deepest sleep always came right before the alarm clock sounded each morning, of course, because the bed always felt softest, warmest, and most comfortable when he needed to get up.

  But it wasn’t the irritating clock. No. Today it was Laurie, his wife, who he loved with all his heart and with whom he looked forward to sharing his entire life. She was interrupting the glorious haze of sleep that followed a particularly fantastic night together.

  He moaned. Opening his eyes took too much effort and wouldn’t matter anyway, since he lay on his stomach with a pillow over his head.

  She laughed. Simultaneously shook his shoulders and the bed. Like she had lost her mind. Maybe if he pretended he didn’t notice, she would leave him alone.

  “Pierce. Honey.” She jostled his torso, lifted the edge of his pillow.

  Something crawled on his nose, or up his nose, or in his nose. He opened one eye as she pulled the pillow away, blasting him with bright daylight. She held a small, white tube in his face.

  He rolled onto his side. “Okay. Okay. I’m awake.”

  “You’re also a daddy.”

  He bolted upright, and somehow she still held that thing right in his face.

  “Look!” Like a kid with a long-awaited and much-loved present, she managed to kneel and jump on the bed at the same time and still show him her surprise. “It’s a plus sign. Do you believe it?”

  Daddy. She said “daddy.”

  And that little white stick. He had seen those before. She had used them before. Not for a while, but … oh, boy.