“Do you two ever think about having kids, or is that not in the picture?” Tom asked Bill for the first time. He had no idea that they had been trying to get pregnant for the last two years, but Bill didn’t tell him that. Jenny was discouraged about it, but her job was stressful, and she was running around all the time. Bill was sure it would happen at the right time. Maybe when they had a vacation, which they hadn’t had for a year.
“We talk about it,” Bill said quietly, not anxious to share his worries with his brother. Anything he ever confided to them, they used against him later. And that was too sensitive an issue for him to want to discuss with anyone but Jenny. He would have felt as if he were betraying her, if he shared their concerns with Tom. “There’s no hurry,” he said vaguely.
“You two aren’t getting any younger,” Tom said bluntly. “But I guess her career means more to her than a baby,” he added unkindly. His family didn’t even know her, but they never cut her any slack. They were all too willing to believe that she was a bad person because she had been born on what they considered the wrong side of the tracks.
“I’m sure she’ll be a wonderful mother,” Bill said fairly. “And I need to find a church before we start having kids. First things first.” He looked calm about it.
Tom hesitated only for a moment before he dove in. “What about coming back to the firm? You have a ready-made job just sitting there, waiting for you. You don’t have to knock yourself out finding a church. You can do volunteer work on weekends.” They still considered his dedication to the ministry an eccentric hobby, not a vocation. Bill had long since given up trying to convince them how much it meant to him. “Dad’s not getting any younger. He’s going to retire one of these days, and I think it would be a great comfort to him if he knew you were back in the fold. I know how much the pro bono work meant to you. Maybe we could make some arrangement. You could be a full partner, and take a lesser share of the profits, if you don’t want to take on paying clients.” It had been an issue for them before.
“It’s not about money,” Bill explained to him quietly. “I feel strongly that we each have our destiny to follow. This is mine. It took me a long time to figure it out. I know I’m on the right path, with the right woman. My marrying Jenny wasn’t an accident. It was meant to be. Just like your being married to Julie.” Tom didn’t comment, he just nodded, but Bill noticed a troubled look in his brother’s eyes.
“How can you be so sure?” Tom asked him, suddenly serious. Bill seemed so certain about what he was doing, and Tom was never quite sure if he had a crazy streak or was saner than all of them. He seemed totally at peace.
“It’ll sound stupid to you, I’m sure, but I pray a lot. I try to listen. And I always know in my gut if what I’m doing is right. Or very wrong. I was miserable when I was working at the law firm. I knew it wasn’t right for me. I hated going to work every day, I felt like I was crawling out of my skin. And as soon as I started seminary, I knew I was on the right path. I knew it with my first theology class. It was like a magnet. Everything clicked. It was like that when I met Jenny. From the minute I met her, I was sure. I knew we were meant to be together.” He said it with such certainty that Tom stared at him for a long moment, trying to understand. “Didn’t you feel that way about Julie? You two were so in love,” Bill asked his older brother earnestly.
“I’m not sure I ever felt that we were ‘meant’ to be together,” Tom said honestly. “She was just the prettiest deb of the season, and that I’d been out with until then, and we had a lot of fun. We were both young. Twenty years later, it’s all different. You need more than just a pretty deb. And people change when they grow up. Neither of us knew who we were then.” Tom had married young, five years younger than Bill had been when he married Jenny, and not as wise.
Bill wasn’t sure what his brother meant by what he’d said and he didn’t want to pry. Tom didn’t look happy. Both he and Peter had been married for a long time, to women Bill wouldn’t have wanted to be married to, but it had seemed to work for them. Julie and Georgina were like everyone else they’d known growing up, but their marriages had lasted, Bill had always thought they were content, and they had decent kids. Jenny was very different, she was deeper, stronger, her own person, and he loved the life they shared. And everything between them was honest.
“Whatever works,” Bill said reasonably. “Jenny and I are happy. I hope you are too. No one in the family ever gave Jenny a break, and God knows she deserved one. She’s a terrific person. But we’ve done fine anyway.”
Tom didn’t comment. Occasionally he felt guilty about it, but not enough so to make an effort to get to know Jenny. And Peter made no effort at all. He was still outraged by Bill’s choice of wife, and so were their parents. It was as though they considered it a personal affront to them. Tom was more reasonable about it, and simply ignored Jenny when he saw her, and only addressed Bill. But at least he wasn’t overtly rude to her, like Peter and their parents.
“Do I have any chance of talking you into coming back to the law firm?” he asked, giving it one last shot, and realizing once again that the chance was slim to none. His younger brother shook his head.
“It may take a while, but I want to find a church. I got an offer from one in Kentucky, but I refused it. Something will turn up. Jenny keeps telling me to be patient.”
“Let us know if you change your mind,” Tom said, as he picked up the check. He had invited Bill. But he knew Bill wasn’t going to alter his course now. He was eager to find a church so he could enter the active ministry, not practice law.
“I’m as likely to go back to being a lawyer as you are to enter the church,” Bill said, laughing, as they walked out of the restaurant. “Thanks for lunch.” He smiled at his brother and hailed a cab. Tom walked back to the office, thinking about what Bill had said. He seemed so sure about everything. Tom envied him that. And Peter asked him about how Bill was when he got back to the office.
“He’s fine. He seems happy in his life, and sure of what he’s doing. Maybe happier than we are. Who knows? Maybe he really does have a vocation. I can tell you one thing—he’s never coming back to the firm.”
“He’s always been a little nuts,” Peter said, sounding dismissive and very smug.
“I don’t think he is,” Tom said honestly, more respectful of Bill than Peter ever had been. “He’s doing what he wants to do, and believes in, and he’s married to a woman he’s crazy about. What’s so nuts about that?”
“You can’t just walk away from history and tradition, give up a career with the most respected law firm in New York, and marry some girl from nowhere. What’s that all about? Teenage rebellion? He needs to grow up,” Peter said with a sour look.
“I think he has grown up. He doesn’t want the same things we do. He never did. He never went out with the kind of women we did, and I think he hated every minute he worked for the firm. He wants to go out and help people. Maybe that’s not so wrong.” Tom was trying to be fair.
But Peter was having none of it. He thought Bill’s marching to a different drummer was juvenile, and their father thought so too. Their mother was more upset about Jenny than the law firm. Not one of them approved of him, or the choices he had made.
“That’s fine if you want to join the Peace Corps at twenty. He’s thirty-four years old, and he wants to be a Boy Scout.” Tom was shocked at what Peter said. After what he’d heard at lunch, it sounded disrespectful. Bill was joining the church, after all, not the Boy Scouts.
“I’m not sure most ministers consider themselves Boy Scouts. There’s room for both camps in the world,” Tom reminded him. “What we do, and what he does. Bill wants to repair the broken of spirit. We just handle their taxes.” Bill’s choice seemed nobler to him.
“Try telling Dad that. It nearly broke his heart when Bill left the firm. And Mom’s, when he married Jenny. How much sense does that make? I never questioned following in Dad’s footsteps, and neither did you. What makes Bill so special?”
“Maybe we should have. Maybe he’s got more guts than either of us,” Tom said, looking thoughtful. The peaceful look in Bill’s eyes at lunch had impressed him, and he was envious of it.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Peter said, shaking his head. “Not you too. We have a great life, partnership in the best law firm in New York, permanent job security until the end of our days. What more do you want?” It was a big question, and Tom didn’t answer him, but he was still thinking about it when he went back to his own office. Peter was the most similar to their father, dictatorial, authoritarian, traditional, and he expected his sons to be the same and follow in his footsteps. Peter had done it without wavering for a moment. And Tom as well, until now, but somehow he wondered if there wasn’t more to life than living by tradition. And Bill had balked and refused to do any of it, and as far as Tom could see, Bill was happier than either of them, and more at peace. He admired him for that. Tom was beginning to ask himself questions, and lately he had none of the answers. His life was the sum of its parts, and some of it seemed sadly lacking. Bill seemed to have it all. A vocation he was certain of, and Jenny, who made him happy, and seemed like a nice girl—more than that, she was a good person, and so was Bill.
When Bill got back from lunch, he went through the mail and found several answers from churches he had sent letters to. Three had turned him down, and another one said they had put him on a waiting list. And he read the last letter several times. He had gotten it as a result of the letters sent out by the placement service for ministers. It wasn’t a church he had solicited or even one he could consider. He read the letter one last time, folded it, and put it back in the envelope. And then he slipped it into a drawer in his desk and sat down to work on his thesis.
He had enjoyed seeing Tom, more than he usually did. He had expected him to try and convince him to come back to the law firm, but he had backed off faster than usual, so it hadn’t turned into an argument. And he had no idea why, but as he thought of his older brother, he felt sorry for him. He had bought the party line, both his brothers had. But something about Tom seemed defeated now. He had sold his soul to be what their father expected, and so had Peter. Bill was so glad he hadn’t stayed. Their lives seemed so empty to him.
Bill told Jenny about his lunch with Tom when she got home that night, tired after a long day.
“Did he ask you to come back to the firm?” she asked, relaxing on the couch, as he handed her a glass of wine. She loved coming home to him and telling him about her day. And he was happy to see her after hours of studying and working on his thesis. It was going well.
“Of course.” Bill smiled at her. “After five years, I’m surprised they still care. I should be flattered.” But he wasn’t. They just wanted to bring him to heel, and force him to be like them.
“It’s threatening for them that you flew the coop. It puts their lives in question,” she said wisely. “They’ll never give up trying to make you come back. Or about me. Our being different is scary for them. And even more so if we’re happy.” He didn’t tell her that Tom had brought up the issue of their having children. He knew it was a subject that upset her. Every month they hoped that she had gotten pregnant, and each time it was a disappointment. They had agreed to see a fertility doctor if nothing happened in the next few months. A baby was the only thing missing from their life now. But Bill thought that was meant to be too, and it would happen when they least expected. It was way too soon for them to panic, but after two years of trying, unsuccessfully, they were both getting worried, even though they didn’t admit it to each other. Maybe when he got a church, he sometimes thought.
And as he mused about it, he remembered the letter he had put in his desk drawer that afternoon. He didn’t mention that to Jenny either. He never kept secrets from her. But he knew there was no point telling her about it—it would just upset her. A church would come, he was convinced, and a baby. They just had to be patient. Destiny would bring them what they needed, yet again. Bill was certain of it.
They made love when they went to bed that night, and Jenny fell asleep in his arms afterward, hoping as she always did that she had gotten pregnant. Other than that, as far as she was concerned, and she knew Bill would agree with her, they had it all.
Chapter 3
Other than the day of their marriage, Bill’s graduation from Union Theological Seminary was one of the most important days of their life together.
The graduation ceremony took place in the Seminary Quadrangle, and Jenny cried during most of it, as she looked at Bill in his cap and gown. He had earned a joint degree from Columbia and the seminary, and now had a master’s of divinity. And it meant infinitely more to him than his graduation from Harvard Law School, although that had been much harder. And now he was officially a minister, but he still had no job and no church. So far everyone had either put him on a waiting list or turned him down.
He had successfully completed his evaluated field education experience at a church in the Bronx, and had taken additional classes to qualify as a hospital or prison chaplain. And he had taken extensive psychology classes to help him counsel, with a specialty in the field of abuse. Bill was particularly sympathetic to abused women, and had done countless hours of volunteer work at a church that assisted the homeless. And after classes every weekend for five years to prepare for the Episcopal ministry, he had been quietly ordained as a minister the week before his graduation. He had everything he needed, except a church.
Helene had gone to the actual graduation ceremony with Bill and Jenny. Jenny had invited his parents and brothers and their wives, and his nieces and nephews, to attend, but all had claimed they were too busy. But they had agreed to come to the luncheon Jenny had arranged for him after the ceremony, except for his nieces and nephews, all of whom were still in school for another week. Jenny had reserved a table at “21” for all nine of them, since it was the family’s favorite restaurant, and she knew the Sweets would be comfortable there.
She hadn’t seen any of the Sweets in several years, but since they had accepted her invitation, she assumed they would be civil to her. It was a monumentally important day for their brother and son. He was a full-fledged minister of the Episcopal Church, having the right to marry people and perform all the rites and sacraments of the church. And all he wanted now was a place to practice what he’d learned. And in the meantime, while he waited for a church to hire him, he had signed on to act as relief chaplain at two hospitals and the downtown women’s jail. At least it would keep him active, and he was looking forward to starting his chaplaincy duties in two weeks. Jenny was relieved that he’d have something to do. The search for a position in a church had taken longer than they thought it would. He had been looking for almost six months.
They went straight to the restaurant after the graduation ceremony, and his parents were already there. His father had a Bloody Mary in his hand, and his mother was looking grim, sipping a gin and tonic. She nodded at Jenny, and looked at Bill as though he were severely ill. She treated his new career path, and marriage to Jenny, like a manifestation of mental illness, from which she hoped he would recover soon. She said nothing at all to Jenny’s mother, and Jenny shook hands with her parents-in-law with a pleasant smile, which they didn’t return. They were off to a bad start, and Bill was instantly tense. Bill, Jenny, and Helene had just sat down at the table when his brothers arrived with their wives and filled the table, which was something of a relief. No one mentioned the graduation ceremony or congratulated Bill, which shocked Jenny. It was as though they thought it was more tactful not to mention it at all, like a terrible blunder he had committed that they were hoping to overlook, like his marriage to Jenny. After how hard he had worked to become a minister, Jenny thought it rude as well as cruel to ignore it. Tom finally said something halfway through lunch.
“How does it feel to be a man of the church?” Tom said to his younger brother with a slow smile.
“A little bit unreal until I find a church. Maybe
I’ll feel more like a minister when I start working as a chaplain at the downtown women’s jail next week,” he said honestly, as his mother frowned.
“How awful,” she said in a strangled tone. “Can’t you do something else while you wait?”
“I’m also going to work as a chaplain in two hospitals,” he reassured her, and his father just shook his head.
“There’s plenty of work for you to do at the law firm. You don’t have to hang around hospitals and jails, looking for work,” he reminded Bill. “You’re still an attorney. You can come back to work anytime.” And it was clear that he thought Bill should.
“Thank you, Dad,” Bill said politely. Jenny was furious that no one had spoken to her mother so far, but Helene didn’t seem to mind. She remembered how they had treated her at the wedding, and she expected no better from them today. She had only come to the lunch out of respect for Bill. Bill’s mother looked through her as though she didn’t exist, and she made an effort to speak to Jenny but looked pained each time she did. Bill’s brothers’ wives spoke mostly to each other. Only Tom was pleasant with Bill and tried to lighten the mood, with very little success.
Jenny had ordered a cake, which said “Congratulations, Bill,” and they served it with champagne, for dessert. And by the end of the meal, Bill’s father had had too much to drink, Peter was visibly bored, and their mother appeared ill. It was over in less than two hours. Bill and Jenny were exhausted when they left the restaurant with Helene, as Bill carried what was left of the cake. It had been a painful lunch, and Jenny was sorry she had invited them at all. They were incapable of being nice to him and celebrating his accomplishment. Bill commented on the way home that he had been to funerals that had been more fun.
Until the End of Time: A Novel Page 4