Isaac shook his head. “I can’t chance it with Joy.”
Joseph watched his friend as he circled the kitchen. “Then I guess you’ll just have to get over her.”
“I can’t do that either. Don’t you think I’ve tried?”
“Isaac, Joy has led a very sheltered life. Maybe it would be good for her to get out and experience the world a little more. Sometimes even a little heartache is good for you. Builds character and all that. I think I remember you telling me something like that once.”
Isaac stopped pacing. “Okay, I think I’m going to choose option number three here.”
“I don’t remember there being a third option.”
“The third option is this—pray for self-control and continue to admire her from afar. And get her out of my office. That’s what I need to do. Put some space between us again.”
****
Joy didn’t show up for work the next morning, and initially, Isaac was glad. By noon, he was swamped, and by three o’clock he had no idea how he would finish his sermon and the bulletin and the announcements by Sunday or how the newsletter would get out and the bills be paid this month. He missed a meeting with the other Orchard Hill clergy because no one reminded him about it. By the end of the day, he was feeling pretty much hopeless.
At the end of his rope, Isaac made a decision. He was desperate. She would be disappointed. She would probably yell at him. But he had to do it. He picked up the phone and dialed Pansy’s number.
“Pansy, I’m begging you,” he found himself saying, “Please come in just for a couple of hours tomorrow and help me get things straightened out.”
“Is Joy having problems?”
“I…I sort of fired Joy.” More like scared her away, but Pansy didn’t need to know everything.
“What! After only one day? Isaac Larson what did you do to that poor girl?”
“Nothing.” That I’m going to tell you about, he added silently. “It just didn’t work out, okay.”
“Well, I suppose I could come in for a couple of hours, but don’t think this means I’m coming back.”
“I won’t ask you again, I promise.”
Isaac hung up the phone, relieved to have that taken care of. Now he had a bigger problem to deal with. He closed up the office and drove to Joy’s house.
Once again, it struck him how out of sync with Joy’s personality this place was. Her grandfather had passed away. Why didn’t she sell the house and move somewhere else?
He heard music playing softly as he stepped up to the door and rang the bell. There was no answer. After a minute or so, he rang again. He had to ring the bell four times before the music stopped and Joy herself opened the door.
Afraid she’d shut it in his face if he hesitated, Isaac blurted out, “Joy, I need to talk to you.”
She looked at him for a minute, as if considering it. Then she stepped back and said, “All right. Come in.”
“Why didn’t Rosie answer the door?” he asked.
“She’s on vacation, at her son’s house until after Christmas.”
They were alone. Isaac hadn’t expected this. “Maybe we should go to Grace’s and get some coffee.”
“No, I can make coffee if you want.”
He didn’t need coffee. He needed a chaperone. But on the other hand, it was unlikely that anyone would notice his car from the street. The house was set back, and the top of the circular drive was hard to see from there. He wanted to get this over with, so he decided to stay.
Joy took him to a different room than the formal parlor Rosie showed him to. He knew instantly that this room belonged to her. It held a piano with sheet music piled on it, worn but comfortable furniture, shelves of books, and a set of French doors flanked by windows, allowing an excellent view of the yard—and the birds.
Nothing matched in this room. It looked as though someone had furnished it with cast-offs and then left it in comfortable disarray. The piano, a baby grand that took up more than half the space, was different though. It was polished to a high sheen and was obviously an expensive instrument.
Instead of sitting, Joy went to the window, crossed her arms over her chest and stared out. Isaac, not knowing what else to do, joined her there. “I wanted to talk to you about yesterday.”
Her gaze never wavered from the window. “I’m a bit confused about that.”
“Yes, well, I’m sorry.”
She made no reply and so he went on. “I suppose after yesterday, it’s obvious that I find you…attractive.”
Still she said nothing and continued to look out the window instead of at him. She wasn’t going to make this easy, but what did he expect? That she would laugh it all off and tell him it was okay?
“But I don’t think it would be a good idea for us to see each other.”
“Why not?”
That was a bold retort coming from Joy, who had never questioned him on anything before. Isaac was a little surprised.
“Listen, Joy…” He found himself moving closer to her in spite of his promise to himself that he would keep his distance.
“A pastor’s life is examined by everyone in the congregation, and sometimes farther out into the community. I live under constant scrutiny and that would extend to…to anyone I dated.”
He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her so he could see her face. “I couldn’t do that to you, Joy. You know you couldn’t handle it.”
Her expression was bleak and it twisted his heart. Without thinking he drew her into an embrace. Joy buried her face in his chest. Regret tore at him because she felt so perfect in his arms.
They stood like that for a long time, until the sun had sunk low in the sky, and the bird feeders cast strange shadows across the lawn. All the birds had long since flown away to their nests.
“I should go,” he forced himself to say. There wasn’t anything to be gained by staying here longer. Joy didn’t say anything, but she lifted her face and her eyes were clearly asking him not to leave.
Isaac felt his heart break, torn in two by his desire to do what was right and his feelings for Joy. He tried to explain himself again. “I’m only doing this because…I care about you, Joy.”
He kissed her one more time, one last time. He promised himself that it would end here. But if this was the end, he wanted to remember everything, the scent of her hair, the warmth of her body and how it fit with his, feeling her heart beat against his chest and the sweet softness of her lips pressed against his. This was the end.
****
After he left her, Joy sank into one of the armchairs in the room and thought things through. The memory of that last kiss tended to distract her, but by the time the darkness filled the room, she thought she had a handle on things.
Isaac cared for her. That was incredible. She’d admired him for years—in the sort of distant way one does to someone she believes is unattainable, completely out of her league. The fact that he’d noticed her at all was incredible and wonderful.
And he was walking away from her before they even tried a relationship, because he believed it was the right thing to do.
Joy had no doubt of his sincerity. A person who sat on the sidelines and observed everything, she knew Isaac even better than he seemed to know her. He was, above all, an honorable man with an open heart for all those in need. She knew he would never intentionally hurt her.
But he believed that association with him would hurt her, and he may not be wrong, she admitted. The idea of being the center of the congregation’s attention, even in a positive way, sent a shiver through her. There were grounds for Isaac’s thinking.
He never meant to tell her about his feelings. Only a moment of weakness had revealed them. She wouldn’t have guessed otherwise. And in his momentary lapse, he’d revealed his feelings. It was as if a treasure had been dangled in front of her and then snatched away.
He refused to pursue a relationship with her because she’d never learned to conquer her social anxiety.
&nb
sp; Noticing how late it was getting, Joy rose and dutifully made supper for herself. Rosie would ask about that when she called, and Joy didn’t want to lie. Her heavy heart chased away her appetite, and she barely ate half of the soup and sandwich she’d made.
“I wish I didn’t know,” Joy thought as she got ready for bed. She tucked herself in and then reached for her Bible to read and pray a little as she did before sleep each night.
She’d been stoic up until now, but the tears she’d been holding back since Isaac left began to escape, sliding down her cheeks, one after another. Unable to concentrate, she skipped the reading and went straight to the prayer.
She opened her heart to the Lord and laid everything before him. Then, exhausted, she fell asleep.
****
“What in the world happened in here?”
This explosion of words marked Pansy’s entry into the office.
“It’s only been two days,” she cried and then pointed an accusatory finger at Isaac as he emerged from his own office. “What did you do?”
It was judgment day and the wrath of Pansy Parker descended upon Isaac.
“I can’t believe this,” she mumbled as she bustled around the office, straightening, sorting and organizing as she went. “It looks like a tornado swept through here.”
Isaac dared to defend himself. “How do you know this is my fault?”
“Because vandals would have had to break in and the door is still intact.”
He retreated to his own office and waited for the commotion to die down in the outer office. When it was finally quiet, he poked his head out cautiously. “All clear?” he asked.
Pansy shot him a glare so icy he was afraid it might leave frost bite. “No, it is not. Come here, young man, and explain yourself to me.”
Not even his own mother would have presumed to speak to him in such a tone anymore, but rather than being affronted, Isaac was abashed. He came forward, feeling like a child being called before the principal.
“Why did you fire Joy?”
“She didn’t even know how to turn on the computer.”
“You could have taught her,” Pansy argued. “You didn’t just abandon her and lock yourself in that office did you?”
Isaac hung his head. “I might have.”
“Joy would have been fine, if you’d given her a little support, you know.”
“I know.”
Pansy sighed and sat down in her chair. She motioned for Isaac to take a seat next to her.
“You know I’m not one to gossip, Isaac. Well, not much,” she amended hastily. “But maybe it would help if I told you a little about Joy.”
“No, really, you don’t have to…” His voice trailed off as Pansy fixed a stern look on him. Not as bad as the ice glare earlier, but enough to make him close his mouth and listen.
“Joy’s grandfather, Gabriel Harper, was a good man but rather a tyrant. He ruled his family with more discipline than love. When his wife passed away, their daughter, Amy, had a hard time and Gabriel was a stoic. I don’t think she received any comfort from him.”
“What does that have to do…?”
“Don’t interrupt. Do I do this to you while you’re giving a sermon?”
“Sorry.”
“Amy ran away. Gabriel didn’t hear from her for a couple of years. Then she wrote to tell him about Joy’s birth, but she never came back to Orchard Hill. She died when Joy must have been about eight or nine. Of course, her grandfather was her only living relative.”
Pansy paused and shook her head before going on. “Gabriel took her in, but only because there was no one else. He took care of Joy, but he never showed her a scrap of affection, and him a Christian man. I just don’t understand…Well, anyway, Joy grew up in a difficult atmosphere. She received far more criticism than encouragement. And worst of all, Gabe kept her hidden away at that house, like…like Rapunzel.”
“Why did he do that?”
“He was ashamed of her, Isaac, because she was…” Pansy paused and then drew closer to him. He leaned forward to hear her whisper, “illegitimate.”
Isaac sat back, unsure what to do with this information. As soon as she’d finished her story, Pansy was up and bustling around again. “I’m making you a list,” she said, “of what needs to be done every week. If you can’t keep up, you’ll have to try to find volunteers.” She smirked at him. “In December.”
****
Joy woke late the next morning. Sunlight filtered through the lace curtains in her room, making patterns of shadow and light across her bed. She immediately remembered Isaac’s visit the night before and started the morning under a cloud in spite of the sunshine outside.
Downstairs in the music room, she gazed out over the yard and saw that it had snowed the night before. Everything lay beneath a clean blanket of white, making the world seem new and untouched.
Joy wished that she could be new, too. She wished she could leave her timid, anxious personality behind and be given a new self. Wandering to the bookshelf, she ran her hands over the volumes she’d collected on overcoming shyness and curing social anxiety. Why hadn’t any of them helped?
Next to her favorite chair, her latest volume lay. The Christian worldview from which it had been written didn’t seem to help at all. Joy noticed the tickets to the Christmas concert in Green Bay sticking out. She’d bought the tickets and made a goal to ask someone to go with her. She hadn’t asked anyone yet.
Maybe the reason she couldn’t overcome her shyness was that she’d never really made the effort. She read books, she made plans, but she didn’t really take any action.
Joy sat down in the chair and opened the book, taking out the tickets. She already knew how Isaac felt about her, and that he was willing to sacrifice his own wishes to keep her safe. What was she willing to do for him? Was Isaac worth the risk of humiliation and possible heartache? She ran her fingers over the slips of paper. Yes, she decided. Yes, he was.
****
Joy arrived for choir practice earlier than usual that night. Slipping in through a side door to avoid seeing Isaac, she went to the choir room and took out the music for the evening. Misty arrived only a few minutes after her.
After exchanging greetings, Joy gathered her courage. She slipped a hand into her pocket to touch the piece of paper that she’d written today’s verse on. “With God all things are possible,” Joy reminded herself. She’d decided to create two more goals. Not only was she going to ask Isaac to the concert, but she’d also promised herself she was going to get a pet. Tonight at choir practice she would take care of the third goal.
“Misty, I wanted to talk to you about that new piece we’ve been practicing.”
“Which new piece?” the choir director asked with a smile. “It seems like we have so many at this time of year.”
“The one for the Grace Place Christmas party.” Every year Grace held a Christmas party at her coffee shop. She served cookies and hot chocolate while local groups took turns performing Christmas music.
“Oh yes, that’s a beautiful song. You know, we’re still looking for a soloist for that one.” Misty was always trying to get Joy to sing. She was one of the few people who knew what her voice was like. After years of refusal, Joy thought Misty probably continued to ask out of habit rather than any real hope that Joy would change her mind.
Prepare to be amazed, Joy thought. Then, aloud she said, “I’d like to take that solo, if you don’t mind.”
Misty was beyond surprised, shocked into speechlessness for a few moments.
Joy decided she was rather enjoying this.
“Do you mean it?”
“Yes,” she answered with a solemn face. “I’m ready.”
That night when Misty asked them to turn to their music for that song, Joy felt her heartbeat speed up and her hands become sweaty. Then Misty asked one of the choir members, who could also play the piano, to switch places with Joy. When she announced that Joy would be doing the solo, a ripple of exclamations w
ent through the crowd.
Joy took her sheet music and went to stand with the singers. Everyone was smiling at her, and those who were close to her patted her back or squeezed her hand to show support.
They were all looking at her. She could feel their gazes even when she turned to face Misty. Her stomach began to churn. She was going to throw up, right here in the choir room.
Joy touched her pocket and remembered her bible verse. She could do this, she told herself. There were worse things than queasy stomachs and sweaty palms. She’d already memorized the piece, so when the music began, Joy closed her eyes and followed it, as though she were alone. At first, she feared her stomach would get the best of her, but then she became caught up in the music, and everything else faded away.
Orchard Hill Volume Three Page 21