Adam's Story

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by Jack Weyland


  “Six-thirty,” I said as we sat down and he closed the door.

  He looked at his watch. “Maybe we should reschedule then.”

  “This shouldn’t take long, President McNamara,” Doneau said brusquely. “If it meets with your approval, I would like to read a prepared statement, and then we can proceed.”

  “Yes, by all means, Sister Doneau,” I said. “I’m sure we’re all waiting for your prepared statement, which you so carefully crafted during President McNamara’s inspiring closing message to us.”

  Doneau continued to glance over her notes, but then, realizing that everyone was waiting for her to respond, she looked over at me and asked, “I’m sorry, Elder, did you say something?”

  I gave her a fake smile. “Nothing important, Sister Doneau.”

  President McNamara, who had already put in a long day, sighed at having yet one more mountain to climb. “We’d better pray before we start. Elder Roberts, will you offer the prayer?”

  In my prayer, I said, “Please help us resolve this so my grandparents can continue to be taught the missionary lessons.”

  After the prayer, President McNamara said, “Elder Roberts, did I hear you correctly? It’s your grandparents you’re teaching?”

  I told him the whole story, then added, “I’m pretty sure the reason they agreed to have us teach them is so they can spend some time with me.”

  “That may be true,” Doneau said, “but as I see it, the main issue here is the sovereignty of missionary areas. In fact, if I may read my prepared statement—”

  The president cut her off. “Sister Doneau, I don’t believe it’s necessary for you to continue. It’s abundantly clear to me that these good people should not have to leave their home and rent a motel room in order to be taught the gospel. Of course they should be taught in their own home.”

  Doneau glanced at me and smirked. “I totally agree, President. I assume you’ll want us to teach them, since they do live in our area.”

  “President, I’m not sure they’ll continue without me,” I countered. “I would very much like to be there for the discussions.”

  “Even if Sister Doneau and Sister Bagley are doing the teaching?” President McNamara asked.

  I wanted to say, “Especially if they’re doing the teaching,” but I didn’t because it would have only made things worse. Even so, the long pause probably gave me away.

  “Elder?” President McNamara asked.

  “I’m sure Sister Doneau and Sister Bagley do an excellent job teaching, President, but . . . well, these are my grandparents, so, naturally I want everything to go well. I’m sure you understand.”

  President McNamara leaned back in his seat, clasped his fingers together, placed them behind his head, and looked up at the ceiling as he tried to come up with his decision.

  A minute later, he put his hands on the desk and turned in my direction. “Elder Roberts,” President McNamara said, “I can see why you’d want to be with your grandparents for the discussions, and so I will give you and Elder Norton permission to travel to your grandparents’ home in Madison once a week for a missionary discussion. I want the lesson to be taught jointly by both sets of missionaries. You may stay half an hour after the discussion, Elders, and then you are to return to your own area.”

  “But, President,” Doneau complained, “I haven’t read my prepared statement yet.”

  He stood up. “We’re done here, Sister Doneau.”

  We all had the same train to catch. Doneau was so mad at me she wouldn’t even walk with us. She and Sister Bagley stayed half a block ahead of us. I didn’t care. The fact is, I preferred it.

  I’m sure that Doneau wanted to beat us to the station, grab the next train, and leave us behind. But we all ended up getting to the station just after the train pulled out, so we had half an hour to kill.

  Doneau tried to stay away from us but, for some reason, I couldn’t let it go.

  I approached her and her companion.

  “On Friday we’re meeting again with my grandparents. I’d like to teach them about the importance of baptism. If it’s okay with you guys, I’ll get us started. When we come to a scripture, I’ll ask one of you to read it, and bear your testimony.”

  “I was under the impression we’d all have a chance to teach,” Doneau said icily.

  “We will.”

  “What would you like Sister Bagley to teach?”

  “Sister Bagley, how about if you give the opening prayer?”

  “All right,” Sister Bagley said.

  “How is she going to get better unless she has a chance to teach?” Doneau asked.

  “How about if she practices on your investigators and not on my grandparents?”

  “So, basically, you’re going to do most of the teaching while the rest of us sit around admiring you. Is that the way you see this? Well, in my opinion, that’s not fair. I’m certain President McNamara intended that Sister Bagley and I do the teaching, with you and your companion responding when asked. After all, they do live in our area.”

  “We’ve been teaching them, so they’re used to us.”

  “I don’t see how anyone could ever get used to you, Elder. And another thing, quit staring at me all the time.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You know what I’m talking about.”

  I turned to Sister Bagley. “Your companion is delusional.”

  Sister Bagley looked like she was going to cry. “Would Heavenly Father want us to be so mean to each other?”

  Doneau and I each waited for the other to apologize. So neither one of us said anything. Finally, I walked off.

  After a few minutes, Sister Bagley came to me privately. “We’ll need the Spirit when we teach your grandparents.”

  “You know how unreasonable she is sometimes,” I complained.

  “Maybe if we have a prayer, it’ll help,” Bagley said.

  “We are not going to have a prayer here with people all around us,” I said. “That would be way too weird.”

  “Then I think you need to apologize,” Bagley said.

  I actually considered apologizing. It was something my mom would have encouraged me to do.

  But I waited too long. The train was coming.

  Bagley had made a good point. We’d never get anywhere trying to teach if there was contention between us.

  “I’ll call you tonight so we can get this straightened out,” I said to Doneau. “I’ll call about nine.”

  “We’ll still be out teaching,” Doneau said. “We’re so busy these days.”

  “Yeah, right,” I scoffed.

  “Don’t call me tonight,” she said. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

  The train stopped. We watched Doneau and Bagley climb aboard one car. We boarded the next car.

  That night I phoned the sisters. Bagley told me Doneau wouldn’t talk to me.

  “Then tell her something for me. Tell her I’m sorry if I hurt her feelings.”

  There was a long pause while the message was relayed.

  “She says that isn’t enough.”

  “Why isn’t it enough?”

  Another long pause.

  “Because you’re only apologizing because you think that . . .” Bagley had to stop to get prompted. “ . . . you have to do it rather than . . . admitting how bullheaded . . . unreasonable . . . and totally impossible to get along with you are.”

  “Do you find me unreasonable, Sister Bagley?”

  Long pause. “Not really.”

  “Tell her that,” I said.

  Another long pause. “I don’t think so.”

  “I understand. You have to live with her.”

  “It’s not that bad most of the time.”

  Doneau must have figured out what we were talking about. She came on the line. “I will not have you bad-mouthing me to my companion,” she said, her voice low and threatening.

  “Why not? Everyone else in the mission does.”

  She hung u
p.

  Once again, after a short time, I regretted what I’d said. I tried to call several times that night, but apparently they’d taken their phone off the hook.

  On Friday morning, the day we were going to give another discussion, I asked Norton what he thought I should do.

  Norton shrugged. “Give Doneau whatever she wants.”

  “Just cave in to her demands? Why would I do that?”

  “Because if you don’t, our time with your grandparents is going to be a total disaster.”

  “I’m not going to let her walk all over me.”

  “Then we might as well not show up tonight,” he said.

  I paced the floor, shaking my head. “It isn’t fair.”

  “What other choice have you got? You can’t change her. So, between you two, who’s left?”

  I raged against the injustice of having to let her have her way, but by the time we met Doneau and Bagley at the train station in Madison that night, I’d resigned myself to do what Norton had suggested.

  “Sister Doneau, I’m sorry for what I said on the phone. Also, I want you to know that I’ve changed my mind. You tell us what you want to happen tonight, and we’ll go along with that.”

  “Sister Bagley and I will do whatever you say, Elder Roberts,” she said sweetly, with none of the animosity that had been there before between us.

  “What’s going on here?”

  “I decided this was a time where I should honor the priesthood.”

  Very clever ploy, I thought. Brilliant strategy. She has me where she wants me. Now I’ll have to act reasonably . . . and be fair.

  “How about if I summarize what Elder Norton and I covered last time, and then you start the discussion. Whenever you want, just nod to Norton and he’ll carry on, and then Sister Bagley, and then you again. I’ll summarize, then ask one of them to offer a prayer.”

  She nodded. “That sounds like a very good plan.”

  “Thank you.”

  We were staring into each other’s eyes again, this time trying to figure out what had caused the change in the other.

  “Why did you give up?” I asked her privately.

  “This is too important to mess up,” she said.

  “Thank you.”

  I had previously called my grandparents and told them two sister missionaries would be with us, so they were expecting them.

  We met in their living room. We spent the first half hour giving the sisters a chance to get acquainted with Eddie and Claire and looking through scrapbooks. Doneau and Bagley learned all about my mom and dad.

  “Charly had a way of helping Sam break out of his usual boring and predictable lifestyle,” Claire said. “She was so spontaneous and freewheeling, and he was so reserved, that it was a wonder they got along at all.” She laughed and shook her head, “At times she’d embarrass him horribly, and he’d get frustrated with her; but, on the other hand, she filled his life with fun.”

  “I’d like to be more like that someday,” Doneau said. “I tend to be direct and goal-oriented.”

  “You’re more like Sam, then. Adam, I mean Elder Roberts, what are you like?” Claire asked.

  “I’m more like my dad. He’s driven by goals. My mom is like that, too, come to think of it.”

  “Sister Bagley?”

  “I’m not much fun either.”

  “Elder Norton?”

  “I’m the same way.”

  “Well, let’s stick together and see how we all change,” Claire said cheerily.

  Eddie reached down next to the sofa and retrieved a baseball mitt and held it out to me. “There you go . . . son.”

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  “Just a little something. I bought it for you the day you were born. At the time, Claire told me I’d better wait until you were a little older before I gave it to you.” He cleared his throat. “I guess I waited too long. Before we even knew it, your mom got sick, and then . . . well . . .”

  He stopped talking and stared at the floor. I thought Claire would step in and get us through this, but she didn’t. She was getting teary-eyed too.

  “The thing is, everybody lost out in this deal,” Eddie continued. “You lost your mom, your dad lost the love of his life, but . . .” he cleared his throat. “ . . . Claire and I lost too. We lost the chance to be your granddaddy and your grand-momma, and to spoil you rotten like we wanted to . . . and to always be on your side, no matter what curves life threw you. That’s what we lost.”

  He handed me the baseball glove. “I suppose you’re a little too old to play Little League ball now, aren’t you? Well, save it for when you have a boy, then at least he’ll get some use out of it.”

  “Thank you,” I stammered. I held the mitt in one hand and grabbed his hand with my other and held it tightly for a moment.

  “Oh, there’s an electric train too, stored away in the basement,” Eddie said.

  By this time Doneau and Bagley had tears in their eyes also.

  “Look at us, bawling our eyes out like this,” Claire finally said. She got up and went into the bathroom then came back with a box of tissues. We each took one, except for Norton, who seemed to be lost in his own world.

  From that point on, I never again thought of them as Eddie and Claire. They became, to me, my grandfather and my grandmother. The way they loved me after all the years, with little or no contact, made it easy to love them too.

  “We’d probably better get started,” Norton said.

  Our presentation about the importance of baptism went better than I’d hoped for. I had to admit Doneau did a good job teaching.

  Afterwards, my grandfather, with some help from Sister Doneau, said the prayer. As we were about to leave, my grandmother said, “Don’t go yet. We have dessert.”

  “Claire made her famous Italian dessert,” my grandfather said. “Just sit and relax. It’ll only take a minute.”

  Claire started toward the kitchen. Eddie looked like he wanted to stay, but Claire, probably worried he’d give me a hug, called for him to help her.

  As he stood up to leave, Doneau asked what dessert she’d fixed.

  “I’m pretty sure it’s tiramisu,” he said. “That’s what she usually fixes for company.” With that, he left.

  “Tiramisu is made with coffee and wine,” Doneau whispered frantically, panic written on her face.

  “Are you serious?” I asked.

  “What are we going to do?” Bagley asked.

  My grandfather came back with a tray of glasses of water. “Claire got up real early this morning to make this, so I sure hope you enjoy it.” He set out our drinks and then returned to the kitchen.

  “How can we eat this if it’s got coffee and wine in it?” Doneau whispered to me.

  “It probably doesn’t have much,” I said quietly.

  “So what are you saying? A little coffee and wine is okay? Is that it?” Doneau replied.

  “What I’m saying is, this is my grandmother, and she went to a lot of work to make this for us, and I really don’t see how we can offend her by not having any.”

  “So what if she offers us a beer next time?” Doneau hissed. “Are we going to chugalug that down too?”

  “Could you possibly be reasonable for once in your life? We’re talking about a tiny piece of dessert.”

  “This isn’t about being reasonable,” she said.

  “What is it about then?”

  “Why are you so willing to throw away everything you’ve been taught your entire life? Do you have any actual guiding principles in your life or not?”

  Just then, my grandparents came in with Claire carrying a tray of dessert on small plates.

  “Here it is!” my grandfather announced. “You’re going to love this!”

  Eddie took the tray, and my grandmother handed each of us a plate. Doneau and I traded desperate glances.

  I was not going to offend my grandmother and so I took a small bite. It was the best dessert I had ever had in my life. “This is
so good! It doesn’t taste at all like . . . what I thought it would taste like.”

  Doneau sighed and took a tiny bite, then broke into a big smile. “Oh, my gosh, that is amazing!” she said.

  Norton was the next to go. “Wow,” he said.

  Finally Bagley took a taste. “This tastes real good!” she said in her little girl voice.

  “Eat it up, children. There’s plenty more in the kitchen,” my grandmother said.

  “I’m afraid if I eat too much, I won’t be able to sleep tonight,” Doneau said.

  Total silence.

  “Why’s that?” my grandmother asked.

  “Well,” Doneau said, “isn’t there coffee in tiramisu?”

  “Tiramisu? This isn’t tiramisu. It’s cannoli. Who told you it was tiramisu?”

  Eddie nervously smiled. “You always make tiramisu for company.”

  “Not for the missionaries. What is wrong with you? Missionaries don’t use coffee or wine. This just has ricotta and chocolate in it.”

  “I’ll have some more then!” Norton said.

  We each had seconds.

  “This is so good!” Doneau said. “Is there any chance I could get the recipe?”

  “Oh, yes, of course,” my grandmother said.

  The sisters went into the kitchen with my grandmother. I went through yet another scrapbook with my grandfather, and Norton had some more dessert.

  It was amazing to see my mother when she was about the same age as me. I could see why my dad had fallen in love with her.

  We could hear the sisters and my grandmother laughing a few times during the time they were gone. I was glad they were getting along so well.

  My grandmother insisted we take some dessert with us and gave each of us a piece in a plastic container. We were all very grateful.

  “This has been so nice to be with you both today,” Doneau said.

  “Can all four of you come back for our next lesson?” my grandfather asked. “Tell us what it’s going to be about and we’ll prepare for it.”

  “Yes, we can do that.”

  “Would it be all right if Sister Bagley and I drop by once in a while when we’re in the area?” Doneau asked.

  “By all means. Come by anytime,” Claire said.

  “Next time come a little earlier, and I’ll cook up some steaks,” my grandfather said. “We’ve got an outdoor grill now, and I’ve become quite the master chef.”

 

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