The Church Ladies

by Lisa Samson

  Well, whatever he said, I thank him for it. The boat turned out to be a real source of satisfaction and escape. The first day of the off-season we flew across the water. Still warm. Still wet. But more wonderful than August water littered with tourists determined to have fun or else! Loaded with kids in bathing suits, the ancient Ski Nautique, inboard motor, time-tested boat for the serious skier—and only three thousand dollars very, very used—bounced across the water. Paisley, still fuming because I nixed the thong bikini idea, sat aft on a white towel reading O Pioneers! by Willa Cather, a surprise surely because didn’t girls like her read Sylvia Plath or the works of Voltaire or something? I thought Paisley actually looked quite pretty in her old swim team suit I dug out of a storage box, but I knew Paisley felt otherwise. Hardly a surprise. But the next day we’d say good-bye until Christmas, something both Paisley and I agreed was a good thing for two entirely different reasons.

  This time she had even hurt Duncan’s feelings.

  “Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is for me to tell people my father is a minister?” That particular barb shot out one evening at supper when Duncan talked about how important personal fulfillment and vision were when seeking out a vocation. He hadn’t realized it until he went into the ministry.

  Thus came the remark. Now, I’m not all that hepped up about being a pastor’s wife, but I’m not embarrassed about it! The comment was over the line, even for Paisley. Duncan retreated into his work for the rest of the day. He must feel all alone at times in his choice of occupation. Well, Robbie thinks his Dad’s dedication to God is cool and does what he can to support Duncan, so at least there’s that. I’ve prayed so many times that I’d hop on board, and maybe one day I will. I don’t know, though. If it means seeing Miss Poole more, well, I know I’m not even close to that level of spirituality.

  I drove the boat while Robbie spotted for Josh Knight who signaled to up the speed of the boat. At least that’s what Robbie yelled.

  So I complied. Loved doing it, in fact. It satisfied that traveling yen that eats me up inside. At least for a brief while. I hollered a Bonanza-style whoop, Angus, Robbie, and Josh returning the call, and the boat sped forward.

  After a few more runs we sat adrift in the middle of the lake eating tuna sandwiches and drinking grape soda. Even Paisley held a Nehi in her hand and laughed at Josh’s corny one-liners. My heart sighed at the sight of those two together. Josh has always had a little crush on Paisley, despite the blood ties. And Paisley has always felt a sense of protectiveness toward her redheaded third cousin.

  “So, Josh, you gonna miss this place when you go back to Baltimore?” Paisley reached into her beach bag, pulling out some chap stick.

  “Nah! I’m finally escaping.” His blue eyes reflected the flares of sunlight on the water. “Let me enjoy it for a while without having to think of Mount Oak.”

  Robbie bit off a huge chunk of sandwich, thrusting it into the side of his mouth the way boys do. “I don’t blame you. Mount Oak is a great place to be from.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked. “How could you not love it here?”

  Paisley rolled her eyes. “Vacation spots are vacation spots for a reason, Mother.”

  Josh nodded. “You know, Aunt Popp, nice place to visit, but I—”

  “—wouldn’t wanna live there!” they all shouted together.

  “I guess I’m just old.” I wondered why I was so bent on defending the place.

  Angus took my hand. “I like it here, Mama.”

  I smiled down at my son, feeling sad that at only five years old he had already accepted the job of being the family salve.

  “Actually, I like it, too, Aunt Popp. But I’m saving it for a special girl.”

  Paisley’s mouth dropped open. “You want to end up here?”

  “Yeah. I really do. I may even buy this dumpy old boat from you, Aunt Popp, and take my own kids and nieces and nephews out on the lake.”

  “You’re an only child, Josh,” Robbie reminded him. “Where are you gonna get those nieces and nephews?”

  “I’ll rent them if I have to. But I’ll have lots of kids. I’m not going to marry a girl that doesn’t want a lot of kids.”

  “Figures,” Paisley grumbled.

  “No, really, Paise. It’s not what you think. It’s just my parents are so quiet, and my house was never loud and fun like yours was. Remember Christmas morning when I was twelve, and I got to spend the night on Christmas Eve? Man, that was great!”

  I felt fondness wash over my heart. “Remember the way you guys used to practice running down the steps on Christmas Eve? Paisley could go from the top to the bottom in two swings. Remember the way you’d grab the banisters on either side, Paise, and then you’d swing out your legs?”

  Paisley laughed, the hoop on the side of her bottom lip sliding half an inch to the left. “But Josh had to take it one step further. Remember how you rigged up that pulley thing from the ceiling, Josh? Dad was furious!”

  “Until he tried it himself!” Robbie slapped the side of his thigh. “He flung himself halfway across the living room.”

  “Right onto my coffee table.” I remembered how Josh had convinced Duncan to ride the contraption … with a red Superman cape from a long gone Halloween costume tied around his neck. Snapped the antique oak mission table right in two. But the memory of the sight of that feat redeems any furniture damage.

  Angus started hopping up and down. “What about me, Mom? Was I there? Was I there?” He knew he wasn’t, I suspected, but hated that he’d missed out on the hay days of the Fraser family.

  Paisley pulled her little brother onto her lap. “No, Gussie. That was our last Christmas together in Maryland.”

  “It was the best day of my life,” Josh said. “Even if the Superman cape did get ruined. And … it was loud that day! That’s what I want my life to be like as soon as I’m old enough to make it happen.”

  I watched Paisley who looked very thoughtful as she kissed Angus on the cheek and played with his smooth, dark hair. That old bathing suit brought back a lot of memories.

  I looked out over the meadow of the horse farm near the country club and watched as the grasses blew in the warm breeze of June, and I wondered what the kids were doing at camp just then because they might very well be riding horses or swimming or eating horrible pancakes, and I realized that I felt young again because I had two sparrows beneath my island counter, one with a wing protecting the other, one looking somehow female and adoring her male protector. And how did Jody get that adoring glint in the male sparrow’s eye? I wondered as the gravel of the roadside crunched behind me, and there he was, the male bird in a black Ford pick-up truck, pulling up right behind my Range Rover. He got out calling, “Hi, Mrs. Fraser.” My mouth opened, and I said, “Please call me Poppy, Joe, I’m not as old as I look.” He smiled and said something like, “You’re younger looking than most women your age.… So with your wisdom and experience, I’d say you have more going for you than the girls I left behind in Maryland.” I knew there must have been plenty of those because Jody was so beautiful to me.

  He stood beside me, close, and asked me if I liked the birds, his breath on my ear. I asked if there was a special meaning to the carving, and he grew red again in that endearing manner that gave me a feeling of power, power over such beauty, and all he said was, “I think you know.”

  A question has plagued me over the years and continues to swarm in my brain. If Duncan hadn’t been enough to make me stay away from Jody, why hadn’t Paisley been enough? Why not Robbie? And if they hadn’t been enough to keep me from straying, why have they been enough to keep me from leaving?

  There’s that verse in the Bible that says God won’t allow temptation to come your way that you’re not capable of resisting. And I look back to those Jody days and think, I could have resisted. And because God had given me the strength to run away, I can’t blame Him for not protecting me. His equipping should have been enough. But I chose not to exercise the musc
les I had. Maybe that’s what’s happening now. Maybe I’m using muscles I didn’t believe I had back then. If only I had the strength to come clean. Sometimes I feel like that crazy “Hang In There, Baby” cat on the poster. Hanging from a pole. Wanting to scramble up but afraid of slipping off completely with the effort of the climb.

  We docked the boat by four o’clock. Robbie hurried off to get ready for work at Jeanelle’s, and Paisley had to run to town to buy some of that expensive hair salon gel. Of course, my Dippity-Do wouldn’t do even though it costs one-fourth the price. Not that I ever use it, but it seems like something a woman is supposed to have beneath the bathroom sink.

  Angus slept soundly on the seat. I started to pick him up.

  “Let me, Aunt Popp.” Josh leaned down on his haunches and stared at Angus’s pinched face for several seconds. Then he looked back up at me. “Hard to believe what’s inside that little head, isn’t it? I try to fathom what he must be thinking at times, but”—he looked back at his cousin—“it’s impossible, isn’t it?”

  I wiped my sweaty palms on my shorts. “Yeah. I’ve stopped trying.”

  “It’s hard having him, isn’t it? Sometimes?”

  I put my hand on Josh’s head, my fingers kneading the soft orange curls. “Yeah, it is. I—” How could I explain my feelings of loss to this eighteen-year-old boy?

  “At least he’s quiet about it. Not one of those precocious brats.”

  “Oh, I know! I’m doing my best to keep him from becoming one of those. Paisley thinks he should be in a special school with special teachers.”

  Josh looked up at me again, his blue eyes locking onto mine. “Who’s more special than a mother? Especially a cool mom like you, Aunt Popp.”

  “That’s what I keep trying to tell Paisley.”

  He slid his hands beneath Angus, gathered him close to his chest and stood easily to his feet. “Don’t listen to her, Aunt Popp. I know she’s your daughter and all, but … are you sure she’s not adopted?”

  I laughed. “I thought you always liked Paisley?”

  “Oh, I do. I just don’t think you should second-guess yourself about her that’s all. You get so worried and wrinkled when she’s around.”

  “Gee, thanks. That sounds like an attractive picture.”

  “No, really, Aunt Popp. If she can be herself around you, you should be yourself around her.”

  “She just always gets so mad at me, no matter what I say.”

  He cocked his head before stepping up out of the boat. “You still have the right to say it.”

  “I know that! I just like a little peace every once in a while.”

  “Paisley doesn’t deserve that kind of consideration. Not any more. She’s a college graduate now.”

  I began to tidy up the boat. “That’s the magic age?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind.”

  “Want me to put Angus on his bed?”

  “Yeah. That’d be good.”

  “I’ll be right back to help you finish up with the boat.”

  “Oh no, buddy, you go on. You’ve got packing to do for tomorrow. The big day, college man!”

  Josh walked up the small pier and took Angus into the house. He was back a minute later. “I’m going to help you with the boat.”

  I sighed and smiled at him. “Okay, hardhead. There’s a trash bag right over there.”

  We finished the chores in a comfortable silence earned from years of comfortable conversation. I love this boy. I really do. And deep in my heart, I am glad he belongs to Chris. Chris deserves a good boy like Josh. Chris shouldn’t have to reap what she hasn’t sown.

  We sat in the sunroom fifteen minutes later, playing solitaire on the computer.

  “So you’re set on joining a fraternity?” Good, I needed that ace of spades to get things rolling.

  “Well, there’s this guy in my church. He’s going to be a junior this year, and he says he’d really push for me at Zeta Chi.”

  Two of hearts, and then the three. Yes. “What’s his name?”

  “Jason Harkens. You know him?”

  “Didn’t you and Robbie go on a ski trip with him last Christmas?”

  “Yeah. Big guy. He plays lacrosse, too. Goalie.”

  “What’s he majoring in?”

  “Banking and finance. But don’t let that fool you, he’s really smart.”

  Good one. “Not everyone can be premed like you, buddy.”

  He grimaced. “I guess that came out wrong.”

  Ace of diamonds. Let’s go, lady! “Is he someone you really look up to, though, Josh? I mean, when you pledge into a GLO, you’re pledging for life.”

  “It sounds like a good fraternity, Aunt Popp. The alumni are still really involved and some of them even sponsor a guy or two for their years at school. Guys that have a lot of promise but not much cashola.”

  “That’s pretty cool.”

  He pointed to the screen. “Seven of spades can go down there.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I can’t believe you missed that, Aunt Popp.”

  I batted him on the arm. “He’s going to be junior, you say?”

  “Yeah. Jason is one of those supported guys. He got sponsored his sophomore year from some old man in Scarsborough.”

  “Do you think you could end up with a sponsor?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. There aren’t many. But who knows? If I do well enough on the team, maybe there’s some rotting old doctor who used to play lacrosse!”

  I laughed. Josh did, too.

  “I sure could use the money. The student loans are going to kill me after I graduate.”

  “What about that lacrosse scholarship?” I asked, thinking maybe the stash would come in handy after all, for Josh’s sake.

  “That was just tuition. A guy’s gotta live.”

  “Man can’t live by academia alone.”

  “Although judging by the smugness of some of the professors I met up at Hopkins, you’d think one could.” Josh pointed at a three of hearts and a lonely four of clubs.

  I clicked on the hearts. “Well, all I can say is, if I had to choose between having no more college professors or no more garbage collectors, I’d take the college professors every time!”

  “What about doctors?”

  “Only ones who don’t think they’re divine get to stay on Aunt Poppy’s list of ‘must have’ occupations.”

  “Okay. Then that’s the type of doctor I’ll be someday.” He stood to his feet. “Your coffeepot just stopped sputtering. Want me to fix you a cup?”

  “That’d be great. Take one for yourself, too.”

  “I will. Whatever caffeine gene you’ve got ended up in me, too.”

  I watched him as he crossed the sunroom, his pale skin burned across the back and shoulders. His muscles sat close beneath his skin. All state lacrosse player. Offense. Fast and coordinated. I hoped those people at Johns Hopkins knew how lucky they were to get this kid!

  Oh, man, there goes that nine of spades! Why didn’t I see that before I clicked on the pile?

  Man.

  Mount Oak Community Church’s young adult ministry hosted a barbecue in honor of all the kids leaving for college.

  “Oh, come on, Poppy!” Chris harped into the phone. “Come on over. It’s a good barbecue. Not just burgers and dogs.”

  “What else are they having?”

  It all hinges on the food as far as I’m concerned, although seeing Chris definitely began to tip the scales in favor of the barbecue.

  “Barbecue. Corn on the cob, roasted in a pit, I might add. And more pies than you can shake a stick at.”

  “You’d be surprised how many times I can shake a stick, Chrissy.”

  “Josh would be glad to see you.”

  “I’ll be over in the morning to say good-bye, though.”

  “Come on!” Wow, did she sound like the fifth grade Chrissy or what?

  “All right. What time?”

  “Five.”<
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  So there I found myself in the heat at a nondenominational church sitting on a metal fold-out chair, balancing a plate of barbecue on my lap. It didn’t begin to compare to Miss Mildred’s Baptist barbecue, but then, not much compares to Mildred LaRue’s food. Definitely worth the drive over, though.

  I got to sit next to Josh and his friend Jason for a while. And they acted like typical jocks, throwing punches and the like. Whooo-hooo.

  Right now they were out on the softball field throwing the lacrosse ball around, Jason sporting something protective along with his Samsonesque build. I could tell something brotherly rose to the surface during his interaction with Josh.

  He’d be in good hands at Hopkins I hoped. And Chris said Jason’s parents, founding members of Mount Oak Community, seemed like nice people. Owned the sporting goods store. Worked lots of hours, she said, and taught their son to do the same. Lots of brothers and sisters, too.

  A few people from Highland Kirk had shown up to support relatives. I waved to Elder Barnhouse’s wife. Bercie is one of the few ladies at church I have actually connected with. I know I should get more emotionally involved with the parishioners, but, well, most of them have so many years to their credit, I just don’t relate. Except with Bercie.

  Bercie does sculpture.

  Bercie hurried over. “I just want you to know that I bought the bread for communion on Sunday, and it’s in the freezer down in the kitchen.”

  “You won’t be there?”

  The beautiful older woman with a beige blond bob and browned, tennis player legs shook her head. “Gerald’s taking me to Asheville for the weekend!” She blushed.