The minister sat behind his desk that was already cluttered with piles of paper. The sight of the chaos made Rebecca cringe. He didn’t notice.
“Oh yes, that site. I believe most of the work on it is done anyway?”
“There are regular updates,” she said, trying hard not to sound defensive.
“Yes, actually…” He leafed through some letters to produce a note pad. “It’s very modern. I worked with a different, statewide firm before. I hope you understand that I need to review your work closely before I can make a decision. You get a monthly payment?”
Please, God. Maybe it was a little over-the-top to ask for any favors regarding her part-time work, but Rebecca already felt threatened. It wasn’t like the church paid her a lot of money, but in Autumn Leaves, this contract could lead to others. At least that’s what she had hoped.
“I’d confirm with Father Langdon what he wanted me to do, and then send him an invoice once it was finished. The updates were paid monthly.”
“I see.” He looked at her thoughtfully. “Mrs. Lowman, I brought a few ideas for new services we could offer. Why don’t you work on that and the updates until the end of, let’s say March, and I promise I’ll have a decision for you by then?”
“That would be good.” Rebecca breathed a sigh of relief. As for the moment, she was still employed. She still wondered what had Graham so upset.
“Wonderful.” Father Reynolds tore the page off the note pad and handed it to Rebecca. “Some of those services are out of town, but of course Autumn Leaves can’t do everything. When the results speak for themselves, I think it’s worth it.”
“True. I’ll be sure to look those up and redo the link page.”
The minister gave a wide smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Now, finally something that was quick and effective. Thank you so much, Mrs. Lowman.”
“You’re welcome.”
As Rebecca left his office, she still wasn’t sure she hadn’t missed something in the conversation. Mark Graham was a considerate man who just didn’t lose his composure at the drop of a hat. She could have sworn she saw Paula roll her eyes at her boss earlier. Rebecca didn’t really want to spend time trying to solve another mystery when her own life was complicated enough.
* * * *
Church had a different meaning to most people in Autumn Leaves than it had for Callie all her life. It sure had a different meaning for Rebecca, and that was why Callie had refrained from scoffing too much about people she found hard to understand. She didn’t mind those who believed in a benevolent Higher Being. Most of the time, Callie did so herself, but she didn’t think any human could claim to speak for them. However, she knew that the church contract was very important to Rebecca in a private and business sense, so she shared her excitement about the temporary prolonging.
“How about I let you work on it a little and we go out for dinner later?” she suggested.
“Don’t you have to work?”
With a shudder, Callie thought of all the notes she’d taken that hadn’t led her anywhere near a new story yet. “I guess. Unless you need help with anything…You know how I love to put off the beginning.”
Rebecca looked at the handwritten note on her keyboard, frowning.
“I don’t know. Normally I’d just look up those links and add them to the site, but maybe I should redo it completely. I’ve already been threatened between the lines that I could be replaced soon.”
“Come on. I’m sure he’d like to work with someone who’s local, therefore available, and extremely talented,” she added after a prompting look from Rebecca. “So what’s all this?” Callie picked up the list, her jaw dropping when she read it. “This is a joke, right?”
“You see my problem now? I wonder what he is thinking. He knew me, so someone told him a little more of the story. What is this, anyway, ‘ex-gay therapy’? It already sounds like it’s something quite unscientific.”
“It is.” Callie shook her head, wondering if at this very moment, the world had conspired against them. The drama around Dina had just barely calmed down a little, but Nicole was still in town, plotting God knew what. Well, probably not even He could know what was going on in her crazy mind. Now, as it seemed, Father Langdon had been replaced by a hater?
“Give us a damn break, please?” she said to no one in particular. “Rebecca, you can’t do that. You can’t put those links up there. This so-called therapy is dangerous, and it’s wrong. Furthermore, it’s not approved.”
Rebecca didn’t say anything, but she looked very uncomfortable. At moments like this Callie wanted to shake her and tell her that she’d love her whatever, that she didn’t expect Rebecca to be a “professional lesbian.” If you just believe me, that I know what I’m talking about, that would be fine.
“I was going to inform myself before I—”
“No!” Callie’s voice had gone a little shrill on the instant protest. “If you must, go see him again, but to me it sounds like the guy is dead serious. Correct me if I’m wrong—there are a lot of people around here who are willing to accept whatever comes from a church official. Father Langdon did a lot of good. He was acting responsibly with the power he’d been given. This person…” Callie took a deep breath. “You can’t do that, or everything you said about your God and your beliefs that day would be a lie.”
“Wow,” Rebecca said. “I don’t think it’s a great idea. We have good counseling services for a small town. I just didn’t know this would hit such a nerve with you. I mean people have all kinds of therapy outside academic psychology. Some is good, some not so much, but can’t everyone decide for themselves?”
“You don’t get it.”
Callie had gone from a celebratory mood to disappointed and clueless within minutes. “What would you do if you needed counseling? Would you check the therapist’s entire background and education before you even started? Could you judge it? I don’t think so. When you need help, you don’t have the time for that. You need help right away, and you make yourself vulnerable.” Rebecca needed an explanation, something to clear this misunderstanding right away. She probably had no idea about the pressure Callie felt. “There are some people who prey on that, and it’s exactly what those ‘ex-gay’ folks do. It’s psychologically damaging. If you don’t believe me, ask any responsible psychiatrist.” She hadn’t known she was crying, but the warm wetness on her face was unmistakable. This wasn’t at all how she wanted to handle the subject. She knew that Rebecca wasn’t meaning to harm anyone. Anger didn’t help either of them.
“Callie,” Rebecca said softly, the alarm showing on her face. “It’s just a stupid website. It’s not me going into therapy. Frankly, maybe I should, but not for that. I’m not going to leave you.”
Callie let herself be embraced, but she wasn’t too happy about her deepest fear being exposed like this. She wasn’t sure if she’d done enough to make Rebecca see it wasn’t enough not to fall for hateful lines. You couldn’t give them any room. If you did, you were just as much an ally to those who stood for them.
“He renewed the contract until March and then what? He’s going to bring in the other firm anyway. Tell him no. You owe yourself that much.”
“Yes, I know.” Rebecca sighed. “Isn’t it true then that I’ve been living a lie for most of my life?”
“No, that’s not true. It’s not the same when you eventually open your mind to something you weren’t aware of. You’re nothing ‘ex.’”
“Is that so?”
Callie put the list back on Rebecca’s desk. “You know, I can’t tell you what to feel. You need to know we don’t need this contract. I understand that you want to work, and I can ask around a bit. We don’t need this.”
“Okay. I’ll call him.”
“Really?”
“Do you still want to go out for dinner? I think I’d appreciate a little procrastination too.”
Callie had the unsettling feeling that this wouldn’t be the last time they’d heard of the
new minister’s ideas. He had known who Rebecca was. It was puzzling that he hadn’t cut her contract right away, unless he had an agenda of his own.
“Let’s do it.”
There was no break in sight, Callie reflected as they walked through the door of the pizzeria to find Nicole sitting at a table in the back. She didn’t give any indication she had noticed them. It was easy to get paranoid, but while Nicole was busy working on her scheme, she had to eat, too, and there were only so many restaurants in Autumn Leaves.
“Let’s just ignore her,” she said.
Rebecca nodded.
Callie knew she was worrying a lot, about not adding enough to their shared budget, about what consequences ending the church contract would have for her career. Too many troubles. They were trying hard to make a living here, but maybe it had been foolish to think it could happen in the town where Rebecca lived with her husband for so long, in the house across the street.
For sure, Callie didn’t want to go back to New York, but the thought of moving to a town somewhere neither of them had history was tempting. They wouldn’t go too far, so Dina could still come visit them. Aunt Valerie’s house could use some updating, but it was all paid for, and it was in good shape.
With the table they were given and Nicole out of sight, they actually managed to come down from all the troubles of the day and enjoy the meal. Maybe, Callie thought, she’d wait a few days and then bring up the subject. Changes weren’t always easy, but it was certainly worse to be stuck.
Rebecca smiled, a little ruefully, as she said, “Dina thinks her life is complicated now. She has no idea what’s coming.”
“Oh, I don’t know. The way I see it, she’s going to meet a guy she’s gonna keep on his toes. She certainly doesn’t back down easily.”
“She sure doesn’t.” There was a hint of pride to Rebecca’s voice.
“You know I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come down on you that hard. It’s just—”
“I know. I should be paying more attention. Lately, there has been so much…”
As they looked at each other, the irony of the situation and the mutual apologies made them laugh.
“It’s okay. I know where you’re coming from.”
“I’ll call Father Reynolds tomorrow,” Rebecca said. “At the very least, he owes me an explanation.”
Chapter Seven
She didn’t call right away, though, busy with getting Maggie ready for school and scheduling another appointment with the Tunisian family who had another possible project for her. Easy said, not so easy done. Callie knew Rebecca was putting that call off, and in spite of all the understanding she’d said she had, Callie felt frustrated.
By eleven, she offered to leave for a little while, hoping that Rebecca would tell her it wasn’t necessary.
“Well okay, then. I’ll have my cell if you need me.”
Walking in the cold, passing by snow-covered lawns and snowmen, Callie wondered if Rebecca was only now becoming aware of any regrets she might have. There had been a bit of a tug of war regarding the girls, and there had been Maria’s death. Callie missed the smart witty woman greatly. She’d been just about the only friend she’d made in Autumn Leaves—aside from Rebecca.
What was happening now?
These complications weren’t going to go away anytime soon. Dina would be a teenager for a little while longer, and then it would be Maggie’s turn. The new minister had just started his job. As for Rebecca’s doubts…Callie had no prediction.
She checked her watch and wondered if Rebecca had at least made that call. She’d give her some more time, Callie decided, and opened the door to the small bakery on the street she was walking on. They had a few tables inside. She felt like rewarding herself with something sweet, the state of her own projects notwithstanding.
At the counter, she ordered a hot chocolate, turning around to find all of the five tables occupied, Nicole at one of them—of course.
“Hi gorgeous,” Nicole said, looking up from her newspaper. “It’s a little crowded here, but if you don’t mind, you could sit with me. I promise to behave.”
“Are you following me?” Callie asked, rather unfriendly, hot chocolate in hand. This was more like the Nicole she remembered, acting the next day like nothing had happened. She looked back to the counter and thought she might need even more reward, as in a piece of cake.
“Hey, it’s a small town,” Nicole said, still smiling. “I’m staying for a little while. There might be some business opportunities. How are you on this beautiful morning?”
Callie sat down with her chocolate and muffin. “If I sit here, will you just leave me alone?”
“Whatever you like.” Nicole regarded her, her gaze now serious. “I know you, Callie. You go for the sugar rush whenever things go awry.”
“You don’t know anything.”
“I pay attention.” Nicole shrugged. “This town isn’t very gay-friendly indeed. I wonder why you stay.”
“You know why.”
Callie looked at the woman she had once been with. There was none of the crazy attraction from the beginning, nothing of the roller coaster of emotions Nicole had once put her through. She was just somebody stating facts that Callie was trying hard to make herself ignore. She was…different.
“I know, I know, but you don’t have to live here. Sucks for the little girl—what was her name again? To change schools, but really, kids get over that. You both work from wherever you are, so there’s no need to play punch bag.”
“I’ve been thinking…about this.” Callie sipped her chocolate, for a moment overcome with a raging longing for the life she had in New York, years before Nicole. It had been an exciting time, her career starting off. She’d been meeting all kinds of interesting people who were dreaming of a better world. As a young kid, she had moved a lot, so She always set her sights on making a home somewhere. Inheriting a house had been a big unexpected step towards that goal, but the place had come with complications.
“It would be hard for Rebecca to leave.”
“Why? Was she born here?”
Callie shook her head. “She’s been living here for sixteen years.”
“Wow.” Nicole poured more milk into her coffee. “That’s a lot of memories. If she’s really that much into you, though, the present is what should count.”
“Yeah, and forgive and forget all that has been,” Callie said sharply. “I can see how you prefer that.”
“We’re not talking about me now.” Nicole’s tone was calm. “I know what you said, but honestly, many of those women simply want to keep a back door open. We can’t change who we are.”
“That’s right, we can’t. How am I supposed to believe in the new, better version of Nicole?”
“I can’t make you. I’m just worried you’ll end up heartbroken. You know you can always come to me, right? I mean it, Callie. You said you don’t want to start over with me, okay, I have to accept that. We can still be friends. If not that, two people who can still talk. I’m sorry about the kiss. Well, not really, but you know what I mean.”
“Maybe,” Callie acknowledged. “You can’t keep doing this.” Maybe she just felt a little lonely and it would be better to call Asha. Then again, there were a lot of things she had not confided in her, for a good reason. They were doing business together, and only business. “Why did you go into therapy? For all I knew, you were pretty certain to be right. Always. What made you reconsider?”
Nicole smiled wryly. “Well, an empty apartment for starters?”
“You used to say how the sound of keys annoyed the hell out of you.”
“I said a lot of things. That was because I hated myself and took it out on everyone who was closest. The people who worked under me…let’s say I had no idea how much of a bitch they considered me until I listened more closely.”
Callie didn’t know what to say to that.
“The new minister in town favors anti-gay paroles. Ex-gay therapy and the like.”
“Wow, and sorry for my lack of a better term. Really? You don’t think your girlfriend is going to fall for that crap?”
“No. Of course not.” Callie shook her head vehemently. “It’s just the last thing we needed, you know? I wish there was a way to press criminal charges against people like that. He wants to have all these links on the church website. Anti-gay, anti-choice, you know the like.”
“How very Christian of him,” Nicole said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Callie was glad that for once, it wasn’t directed at her. “I know.”
“If you want, I’ll call our investigator and have her ask a few questions?”
She had to laugh at the suggestion. “This is some trouble I can do without. No. Thank you though. I must admit it was good to put it out there at least.”
“Anytime.”
With this conversation having gone surprisingly well and feeling she had enough of a sugar intake, Callie felt ready to face the challenge at home.
* * * *
Father Reynolds took her call right away. The saying Thank God for Small Favors had never been so right. At least, this would be over soon. Rationally, Rebecca knew she was right. She was still worried. Father Langdon, she had to admit, had been something like a father figure in her life for a long time. She had been certain that nothing she’d say would result in her immediate excommunication. Now, she just wasn’t so sure anymore.
“Mrs. Lowman. What can I do for you?”
“It’s about the links you gave me. I have a few questions.”
“Sure, go ahead,” he said cordially.
All of a sudden, Rebecca wished she’d asked Callie to stay, with all her anger and her passion. This, she had to do for herself though.
“I must admit I have some ethical concerns there.”
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