Winter Winds

by Gayle Roper

  “There is something unusual about our marriage,” Trev admitted.

  Dori closed her eyes and prayed as earnestly as she ever had. Lord, let him keep his mouth shut. Please! Strike him dumb. Bob is making enough trouble as it is. Please don’t let Trev play right into his hand.

  “I didn’t marry Dori this past weekend.”

  “I knew it!” Bob punched the air.

  “Well, I never.” Penni sniffed and looked down her nose at them. “And you’re a pastor!”

  “I married her six years ago,” Trev said calmly.

  Bob and Penni stared. “What?”

  So much for answered prayer.

  “We’ve been married for six years,” Trev repeated. “We’ve had some difficulties in the past, but we’re working to resolve them.”

  “Six years?” squeaked Penni, eyes as big as Dori had ever seen them.

  Bob grinned, a very nasty, smug grin. “Well, well, so that’s the story. A pastor who couldn’t even keep his marriage together.”

  “You have a lot of nerve lecturing us!” Penni sneered. “And if I can’t sing and Bob can’t play, you can’t preach. It’s only fair.”

  Trev nodded. “Maybe it will come to that, though I hope not. After all, neither of us is running around town with someone else. In the meantime, you know the church’s position on your actions. If you want to fight the decision, you’ll have to go to the board of elders. You did notice that the letter was also signed by Ed Masterson, chairman of the board?” He nodded toward the door. “I think we’ve all said everything that needs to be said for the moment, and Dori and I have a party to attend.”

  With ill grace, Bob and Penni stalked out, slamming the door behind them.

  Dori turned to Trev. “Should you have told them about us? I’m worried that he will do something to hurt you because of me.”

  He pulled her into a hug. “It’s going to come out anyway, Dor. Better I say it than someone like Jonathan.”

  She wrapped her arms around his middle. “I didn’t mean to be such a problem to you,” she said in a small, unhappy voice.

  He kissed the top of her head. “Sometimes life is a problem no matter what you do. There’s no easy way to deal with things and no easy or painless solutions.”

  Too true, she thought. If I stay away, I’m trouble. If I stay here, I’m trouble.

  “But understand that you are one problem that I delight in.”

  Dori looked up. “Really?”

  In answer he kissed her.

  Twenty-Six

  JOANNE WATCHED BARNEY as he dressed and thought again how handsome and strong he was. He liked to wear pin-striped suits and dress shirts to make himself stand out in a town where everyone wore casual clothes most of the time. He flipped the broad end of his tie over the narrow end and made a perfect knot.

  “Well, babe, it looks like Friday will be the night. And just in time too. Mr. Jankowski is due home Sunday.”

  Joanne had noticed right off that Barney never called Mr. Jankowski the shortened Mr. J that Vinnie did.

  “You have to give your boss respect,” he explained when she mentioned it.

  “Why Friday?” She stretched, reaching over her head and touching the padded headboard of the great king-size bed in Barney’s suite overlooking the ocean. She loved the glitz and flash of Atlantic City. She played the slots for hours each evening on Barney’s unlimited credit while he attended to various business responsibilities. Once she even won five hundred dollars. That evening she couldn’t wait for Barney to come take her for their now-customary late dinner so she could show him her prize. By the time he actually arrived, most of it had gone back into the machines, but he’d been real happy for her anyway.

  “Trevelyan’s going to be away.”

  “He is? How do you know?”

  “People who keep their calendars on their computers share their plans with the world.”

  Joanne was impressed. “You’re a hacker?” She’d learned the term from TV where she saw the Sandra Bullock movie about breaking into computers.

  “No, but I’ve got friends who are.”

  Jo shrugged. It was still amazing, all the stuff he knew.

  “With him away,” Barney said, “that means only the girl, the kid, and the dogs.”

  Joanne sat up abruptly. “You aren’t gonna hurt the dogs, are you? You said you never did.” The idea of making one of them cry just about broke her heart. Her eyes actually got teary thinking about it. “I-I wouldn’t want you to do anything that mean, baby.”

  She said the last softly because she was still feeling her way with Barney. She hadn’t been away from him since they met Sunday except for the short stints when he had to work. He hadn’t taken her home to get any clothes or anything. He’d simply bought her new, and they were gorgeous! She knew she could never go back to Wal-Mart, and even Sears and Penney’s were ruined for her after the exclusive boutiques he’d taken her to.

  Every day she liked him more, and she loved his style of living.

  Barney looked at her strangely. “You don’t think I’m mean?”

  She shook her head. “I think you’re wonderful.” She smiled sweetly at him, thinking of all the gentleness he had shown her these past few days.

  He studied her for a minute longer, looked out the window at the ocean, then turned back to her. “You do know what I do for a living, right?”

  “Oh, yeah. You do Mr. Jankowski’s necessary work. But dogs—I don’t know. Dogs is different.”

  He smiled, and she melted. How had she gotten so lucky?

  “So, okay,” he said. “We won’t hurt the dogs.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  She stood on the bed and threw her arms around his neck. Standing on the bed she actually got to look down on him a couple of inches. “Thank you! Thank you!” She rained kisses all over his face, and he grinned like a happy man.

  “How about you and me taking a vacation after Mr. Jankowski gets home?”

  “A vacation?” Joanne clapped her hands. “A real vacation?”

  He nodded, smiling at her excitement.

  “I never been on a vacation before.”

  “Never?”

  She shook her head. “My father said they were a waste of money.” Like being a drunk wasn’t. She felt her spirits start to sag. It always happened when she thought of him and his heavy fists. She took a deep breath.

  No more sad thoughts about him, Joanne. He can’t hurt you any more. You’ve got Barney. With Barney she had only happy.

  “So where do you want to go?” Barney asked. “You pick the spot. Hawaii? The Bahamas? Paris?”

  “Paris?” she squealed. “That’s in Europe! We could really go there?” Of course she’d have to fly, which made her shudder, but with Barney holding her hand, maybe it wouldn’t be that bad.

  “Paris it is,” he said. “I’ll make the arrangements.”

  She shook her head. “I was just thinking how far that was, that’s all. I really want to go somewhere warm since it’s so cold here.”

  “The Caribbean somewhere.” He reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out his wallet, a long, sleek leather one, not the bent and beat-up thing Vinnie stuffed in his back pants pocket. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head. I’ll take care of everything. Here’s a few hundred. Get a new bikini for the trip, and a couple of those floaty dresses for our nights on the town. Anything you want. I’ll be back for you in time for our midnight dinner.”

  She took the money with wide eyes. Would she ever get used to having so much? “I’m going to get a massage.” She gulped down a giggle. “They make you take off your clothes.”

  Barney took her chin in his hand. “Just remember, sweetheart.

  You belong to me.” He gave her one last hard kiss, then strode out the door.

  Joanne hugged herself. Life like those TV shows could be hers after all, she thought, and the reason was Barney.

  She was falling in love
.

  Twenty-Seven

  DORI TURNED TO TREV as they walked up the aisle of the deserted church after the welcome party It had gone better than she’d expected. People had been so kind and friendly to her that the conversation had flowed without her having to contribute much. She’d just smiled and nodded and agreed that Trev was indeed wonderful.

  “How do you do it?” she asked.

  “Do what?” He took her coat from her and held it out. She slid into it.

  “Talk all evening like that.”

  He looked blank.

  “It’s like you always know just what to say.”

  He shook his head as he started to zip her coat for her. It was obvious he didn’t understand what she meant. “There’s no great secret here. You just talk about whatever comes to your mind.”

  She pushed at his hands. “I can zip my own coat.”

  He continued to pull the zipper up. “I know. I taught you how.”

  “You did not. I knew how to do that long before I came to live with you.”

  “Well, I would have taught you if I’d been around.”

  She rolled her eyes. “But what do you talk about?”

  He shrugged and zipped his Lands’ End jacket over his cobalt blue sweater. “Stuff.”

  She gave him the evil eye. “That’s a big help.”

  He laughed. It was strange that she’d forgotten how adept he was socially. She walked into a room and saw people as threatening challenges. Somehow she had to figure out what to talk to them about, and that was hard enough when you knew the people. It was murder when you didn’t. Trev walked into a room, any room, and everyone was his instant friend. Conversation never lagged.

  “I bet you love cocktail parties.” It was an accusation.

  He nodded. “Except pastors don’t end up at too many cocktail parties.”

  “Then church socials like tonight.”

  “I love church socials. It’s a great time to get to know my people.”

  His people. Interesting. Another sign of the way he looked at life these days. She remembered when making himself happy was his chief goal, and partying was an end in itself. Of course, it was most people’s goal at nineteen and twenty, left over from being teenagers when the world revolved around you and your search for happiness. She remembered angst from those years. He probably remembered fun.

  Like the time Alyson Bailey had a big party, and Dori wasn’t invited. Now a certified social outcast, she had died a thousand deaths over her exclusion. Trev, also not invited because he had dated Alyson once and never again in spite of her dogged pursuit, threw his own party for all the non-inviteds. He had a wonderful time, and in retrospect she realized his party was a great success. She, however, had been too conscious of the fact that everyone present was also a party pariah to enjoy herself.

  She could definitely be a glass-is-half-empty girl.

  She suspected that this tendency toward melancholia was what made forgiving Trev so difficult. Her standard for herself was perfection with everything done to the best of her ability. Since perfection was impossible, she spent a lot of her time berating herself and trying harder and harder to meet her own standards. In spite of the fact that she failed regularly and knew it, imperfection in others was as hard to accept as was her own, especially from someone she loved so fiercely.

  Somewhere there had to be someone who could satisfy her need for doing right, being right, and acting right. When Trev had failed so spectacularly, she hadn’t been able to accept that this man she loved, this man who was supposed to make up for all her flaws, had feet of clay. That he hurt her so badly when she planned to spend her life doing everything she could to make him happy was what made her reaction to his breach of promise so strong. It also made letting go of the horrendous hurt so impossible for her.

  Not that she liked this overly touchy part of her personality. Many times growing up she wished she were more like Trev. Not Phil. He took living the fun life a bit too far for her. But Trev always seemed to know what to say and when to back off. What a gift, especially for a pastor.

  “Well, I’m not good at gatherings like this evening’s,” she said, pulling her red gloves on.

  “You did great, Dori. You had them eating out of your hand.”

  She shrugged. “I like it when there’s a specific purpose to a get-together.”

  “Mingling and getting to know each other isn’t specific enough?”

  She shook her head. “I like to know what we’re going to be talking about. I like to know exactly what is expected of me. Then I can perform as I should. Like at the store. People come in, and we talk product and purpose. ‘You’re looking for a gift? What’s the occasion? Your mother’s birthday? Her fiftieth? How about a nice—’ And we’re on our way.”

  “Then where’s your spontaneity?”

  “My what?” she asked with a self-deprecating smile.

  He laughed and gave her a gentle hug. “Believe it or not, I always admired your sensitivity and tender heart.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve watched you with Ryan. You are so kind and understanding with him.”

  “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  He waved her comment away. “I gave him Jack.”

  “You gave him a lot more than Jack.”

  “And remember Gail Mercer?”

  Dori did, though she hadn’t thought of her in years. Gail was a sad girl, a pariah in junior high school. She didn’t dress right, bathe regularly, or even brush her teeth half the time. Her father was in jail, and her mother was rumored to be the town prostitute.

  “You were always so nice to her. I couldn’t even stand to be near her—she smelled half the time—and—”

  “She thought you were so cute.”

  “—you would purposely sit by her.”

  “I always felt sorry for her.”

  “See? That’s what I mean. And there was Fat Alma.”

  “Trev!”

  He shrugged. “That’s what the guys all called her.”

  “I know. So did she.”

  “See? That’s what I mean. As I’ve grown in the Lord, I’ve tried to model myself after that part of you.”

  She stared, openmouthed. She couldn’t have been more astonished. Surely this was Trev, teasing as usual. But one look at his face in the dim emergency lights told her he was serious.

  He opened the door for her. The wind whipped in and suddenly the two-block walk home seemed more like two miles. She pulled her red beret low on her head, forsaking chic for warmth.

  Trev carefully checked to be certain the door was locked behind them. As they began walking, he took her hand.

  “You always impressed me because you cared for people,” he said. “Because you could talk issues, substance. I just tell stories and make people laugh. Remember how Pop used to despair that Phil or I’d ever have a deep thought in our heads? You, on the other hand, have always thought deeply and made everyone else think. You delve down, and I skim the top. That’s probably why you became a Christian in high school, and I didn’t until I had no choice.”

  Skim the top? She thought of the stack of books by his chair. “Six years has changed you a lot, Trev. I doubt that you skim anything anymore.”

  He grinned. “Dull and pedantic, that’s me.”

  “Yeah, right.” Trev couldn’t be dull if he tried. He was the one who had always brought joy to her life as they were growing up. She’d fall into one of her despairing moods, and he’d make it his goal to make her laugh. As far as she could remember, he’d always succeeded. “Don’t worry. You still tell stories better than anyone I know, and you can still charm the birds from the trees when you set your mind to it.”

  “How about a shopkeeper from California?” he asked softly.

  A short electric silence vibrated between them while she searched wildly for an answer. No thought emerged as he bent and kissed her, a soft kiss full of yearning and love.

  When he pulled back, she stared up at h
im, mouth dry, heart pounding. More and more every day, every hour, every minute, she wanted to be with him forever. She watched him with Ryan, doing everything he could to make the boy feel safe and secure. She watched him pray at any moment and listened to him pray for her specifically. She saw his interaction with his congregation. She’d heard him be compassionate with Shannon and firm with Bob and Penni. She agreed more and more with the assessment of Clooney, the beach bum.

  “You got a good man here, Mrs. Trevelyan. He’s God’s man through and through.”

  There were only two problems standing in the way. She was no longer God’s woman, and there was the pink elephant standing firmly between them. She blinked and looked away from him, uncertain how to fix either.

  “We’ve got to talk about it, Dori,” he said with that uncanny ability to read her.

  “I know. It just scares me so. I like how things are going between us. I-I like being with you.” She loved being with him. “I even like Seaside. I’m afraid talking will upset everything. I’m afraid we’ll lose what we’ve found. I’m afraid—of myself.” The last was a whisper.

  “I guess I’ve got more faith in you that you do,” he said. “You’re not nineteen anymore. You’re older, wiser. I’m older, different. Whatever it is, we can work through it. I know we can.”

  Wasn’t she the one who said she liked specifics to talk about? Well, here was as specific a topic as ever there was. The words to explain, to ask for his explanation, crowded her throat, clawing for release, but she couldn’t, just couldn’t make herself risk saying them.

  They walked a full block in silence as she swallowed and swallowed and swallowed, choking the dangerous words down. She closed her eyes in distress and disgust. Sometimes she disappointed herself so much!

  “Dori?” he finally said, his voice encouraging and hopeful.

  With false brightness she said, “I noticed that Jonathan and Judy didn’t come to the party tonight. He’s out to get you, you know.”

  Trev smiled wryly at her change of topic but didn’t push. She wasn’t sure whether she was grateful or dismayed.