Tessa McDermid - Family Stories

by Tessa McDermid

  When he came back to the apartment for a quick bite of lunch, she was gone. The covers were jumbled on the bed and the few dishes in the sink showed that she'd managed to eat something, after al . His class load in the afternoon was heavy and he had little time to worry about her. When he was through with his final class, he hurried back to their apartment, determined to keep her home that night.

  She was stil not back. He tidied the smal apartment, then changed his shirt. She dashed into the room just as he was deciding she wouldn't return.

  "Sorry I'm late." She gave him a peck on the cheek. "I won't be a minute."

  She rushed from their room and down the hal to the community bathroom. When she came back, he stared at her in astonishment.

  Her long hair, which she usual y wore braided around her head or in a soft bun, was cut short. Instead of the thick mass that only he saw in its glorious release, tiny wisps of hair covered her ears. Bangs barely touched her eyebrows. She looked stunning but the shock was too much.

  "What have you done to your hair? Why didn't you talk to me first?"

  She gawked at him. "It's my hair, Frank. Why should I discuss it with you?"

  Anger fil ed him then. Anger at her refusal to take classes, to participate in any of the seminary activities.

  Anger at her evenings out, her drinking, her taunts about his studies.

  His hand struck out, catching the rack where he'd put the dishes to dry. The plates and cups, silverware, fel to the floor, the sound of breaking glassware echoing around the smal room.

  Her eyes widened and she backed up. As quickly as his anger had risen, it was gone.

  "Marian, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He'd never been the kind of man who threw things in a rage.

  He lifted his hand to caress her cheek, to assure her he was sorry, that his anger had vanished.

  She took another step away from him, moving closer to the door. "Please don't touch me, Frank. I'm going out.

  I can't sleep here tonight. I—I—" Her voice caught and when he heard that, his heart ached. "I don't know if I'll be back."

  The door closed behind her. Frank stared at it, waiting for her to come back, to accept his apology, to say that she was partly to blame. But the door remained firmly shut.

  He sank onto the bed, his face in his hands. What had he done? According to the Bible, the man was to be the head of the household but he didn't think any of the teachers would condone his loss of control. A man was to protect his wife and children, care for them.

  And what would he do without Marian? He had threatened divorce in Winston but it had been an idle threat, words he'd thrown out when she'd refused to go with him. He had never intended to make it official.

  He sat on the bed, barely conscious of the passing time. Dusk had begun to fal , the sky a dark blue outside the window. His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten. Worrying about food when his marriage and possibly his career were both over seemed petty.

  He needed to see Brother Grimes. The man had probably gone home, but he had to try. He raced across the campus, stopping at the imposing brick building that housed the administrative offices. A few lights were stil on, and he prayed the president would be one of those dedicated souls.

  "Ah, Frank, what can I do for you?" The elderly man opened his office door, ushering Frank inside.

  "M-my wife left me, sir." Breathless, Frank held his hat in his hands. "We had a fight, and she walked out."

  "Sit down." Brother Grimes indicated the two easy chairs; he waited until Frank was seated before sitting down himself. "Now tel me what happened."

  Frank poured out the facts of their move to Des Moines, Marian's refusal to take classes, her late nights, her new friends, her drinking. He ended with the haircut.

  "She's not the woman I married," he finished. "She's become wild, sir, and I can't control her. If I can't convince my own wife to be a Christian, how can I convince others?"

  "Wait a minute, Frank." Brother Grimes stroked his beard, his eyes dark above the white whiskers."Marian may have done some things that bother you, but she is a Christian. She grew up with a strong background, and that doesn't disappear. My suspicion is that she's simply enjoying herself in a big city."

  Frank was certain she was enjoying herself. And now, with his angry words, he'd sent her back into that city.

  "How long have you been here?" Brother Grimes asked.

  "Six months."

  "And in that period, how often have you been with your wife?"

  Frank shifted in his chair. Except for a few minutes grabbed between classes, usual y a rush for meals, he hadn't spent any time with Marian. He was so busy studying, it was no wonder she went out at night looking for fun.

  Brother Grimes's smile was kind. "A common problem with many of our married couples. And it could be even more of an issue with your wife."

  Frank frowned. "What do you mean, sir?"

  Brother Grimes hesitated, his thumb rubbing his chin. "What I'm about to say is in the strictest confidence, Frank. I consider Brother Cooper one of my closest friends. We met years ago and I count him as a spiritual giant in his study of the scriptures. That's one of the reasons I was so wil ing to accept you into the seminary."

  Frank ducked his head in acknowledgment of the honor he was receiving. His own knowledge of the scriptures was woefully lacking, as he'd discovered in his classes. His mother had taken him to church, and he'd heard the Bible stories, but the deep meaning behind them had never interested him before.

  He sometimes found the comments of his teachers and fel ow students confusing. Early in one of his classes, he'd offered the opinion that Jesus had been speaking to the common man, so perhaps His stories were simpler than everyone was making them out to be. The silence that had greeted this statement had convinced him he had much to learn and needed to keep his mouth shut. He was a newcomer in the study of God's word.

  He settled into his chair, determined to listen to Brother Grimes and learn any secrets that would aid him in better understanding his wife. He loved Marian; he'd made a commitment to her before God. But most days, he had no idea how to react to her.

  "I often disagreed with Brother Cooper's treatment of his wife and daughter, Frank. I don't mean this in disrespect but your father-in-law had many opportunities to travel elsewhere, to leave Winston and share his gifts and talents with other communities. Instead, he chose to sequester himself in that little town, to shelter the women of his family from the rest of the world."

  Grimes swiveled around and picked up his large Bible from the ornate book stand behind the desk. "We are not to be tempted by the world, Frank, of that there is no doubt. And yet, there is another temptation that can be as damaging to our souls. That is the temptation to ignore what is going on around us, to forget that we are cal ed to be the leaven, the salt of the earth."

  He tapped a passage in the open Bible. "Brother Cooper makes a difference in his community. His time there has been valuable, and he has seen to the spiritual wel -being of his flock. Sometimes, though, I wonder if he's been blind to the real will of God. If he has silenced that voice within himself, the voice that tel s him what God expects him to do."

  Brother Grimes clapped a hand on Frank's shoulder. "You must listen to that voice, Frank. You must hear what is being said to you. Not what others want you to do. What is God's will for you, at this time and in this place?"

  He cleared his throat. The lamplight cast a halo around his head, and he appeared much as Frank thought an ancient prophet would have looked. The old man steepled his hands on the desk. "You mustn't forget your wife, Frank. You made a commitment to her that is just as sacred as your commitment to God. She needs you and you need her."

  He gave Frank a reassuring smile. "No doubt she'll be back tomorrow. She's a responsible young woman, and those vows you shared are sacred to her. In the meantime, I suggest you do some serious praying about how you can balance your family life and your ministry. Otherwise, you won't succeed at either."<
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  Frank considered those words as he retraced his steps to their apartment. A snowflake drifted down and he glanced at the sky. Snow. He hoped Marian was al right.

  He couldn't imagine life without her. Was he hearing God's voice or Brother Cooper's when he'd decided to be a minister? God had sent him to Winston to find Marian; he was certain of that. If being a minister's wife was so difficult for her, maybe he needed to look elsewhere for his career.

  Inside the apartment, he was surprised to see Marian sitting on the sofa. Her grin was sheepish.

  "I didn't have anywhere to go, Frank. And I didn't even pack a bag."

  He gathered her into his arms, rocking her back and forth, inhaling her scent, the softness of her skin. "I'm so sorry, Marian." He kissed the back of her neck. "You have every right to cut your hair." His lips nuzzled her skin and he felt her shiver. He leaned back until he could see her face. "Marian, we have to talk. We need to make a few changes in our life."

  "I know." She slid out of his hold. "I'll make some, sandwiches. We never did have supper."

  They sat at the smal table provided with their apartment. Sandwiches between them, he offered grace. "Is this so hard for you?" he asked after the Amen.

  She kneaded a piece of bread between her fingers, not looking at him. "I grew up in this atmosphere, Frank.

  Sometimes I thought I'd suffocate. Everyone always watching, expecting things from me that I couldn't provide. When I met you, I was happy to put it behind me. Maybe not forever, but I certainly didn't think I'd be returning to the parsonage so soon."

  He had felt that way about his own home, trapped in a family that expected certain things from him. He'd never measured up to his father's expectations. Leaving had been the most freeing experience of his life.

  She touched his hand. "This means a lot to you, doesn't it?"

  "I can't explain it, Marian. It's not the classes so much as the belief your father has in me. Brother Grimes..."

  Remembering the old man's words, he wondered if he was in the program for the right reasons."I just can't quit," he said with a shrug. "Not yet."

  Her sigh came from the depths of her being. "Al right. But I can't attend the classes. I—" Her voice trailed off.

  He stayed quiet, determined this time to listen.

  She leaned her elbows on the table, her head resting between her hands. "My mother became a different person, Frank, whenever she went out in public. She wasn't the wonderful woman I saw at home, the clever woman who could make me laugh with a quick remark. Did you know my mother was crazy about the theater?"

  Frank shook his head. He was pained to realize how little he knew about his mother-in-law.

  "Not much scope for her talent in Winston. She was very good at mimicking people. She could grasp a mannerism and you'd figure out right away who she was imitating. But Father said it was sinful, so she was careful not to let him see her do it."

  She raised her head and gave him her wide-eyed gaze. "Frank, I can't be that wife who only exists as part of her husband. I don't know what I want to do yet or who I'll be, but I won't disappear into the parsonage, the helpmeet of Frank Robertson. If that's against God's wil , I just don't know that I can fol ow Him anymore."

  Frank thought again of his conversation with Brother Grimes, the revelation that his father-in-law had hidden his family away in that smal town. He laced their fingers together. "You don't have to go to the classes, Marian. Your support at home is al I need. You're my wife and the others will have to accept you as you are."

  "I do love you, Frank. I'm sorry for what I said earlier."

  He stood up and held out his hand. "And I love you. More than I ever believed possible."

  Their lovemaking that night was gentle, a renewal of their vows. They murmured whispered words of love, of promise, protected from the cold weather by the warmth of their bodies expressing their need in the most primitive and essential way.

  Their joy in each other continued. No more late nights with Frank at home studying, Marian out with her friends. Now, while Frank read through his notes and books, Marian curled against his feet with a book of her own. They ate their meals together, laughing around the smal table. They joined other couples from down the hal for dinner. Marian's background enabled her to hold her own during the spirited conversations.

  "Are you going home for Christmas?" Caroline asked after a light supper early in December. She and her husband, Pete, lived next door and they'd spent several evenings together.

  Marian glanced at Frank. "We hadn't discussed the holidays yet."

  "We're going to my parents' house," Caroline went on. "It may be our last visit for a while. We're moving to Africa after Pete graduates this spring."

  Frank felt Marian freeze. He nudged her leg under the tablecloth. "If we can make the arrangements, we'll be going to Winston for the holidays."

  "Africa?" she said when they were alone.

  "We're not moving to Africa," he assured her. "There are enough hungry souls in the United States."

  "Frank—"

  He clasped her body tightly to his, rubbing his hands up and down her back until he felt her begin to soften.

  "Marian, we make the decisions together." His mouth grazed her neck. "And right now, I think we both know what we want to do."

  Her hands slid into his hair. "I'm not sure I understand, Mr. Robertson." Her voice had lost its wary edge and grown husky.

  He growled and nipped her earlobe. "Mrs. Robertson, we need to go to bed. Now!"

  The Christmas visit to Winston was pleasant. Reverend Cooper was interested in Frank's classes, and Marian and her mother spent hours in the kitchen, laughing and talking as they prepared the holiday meals. Frank watched careful y, noting how different Mrs. Cooper was in the home compared to when she was out in public.

  And he noted, also, the pleased expression on his father-in-law's face, the subdued Mrs. Cooper next to him at the end of the candlelight Christmas Eve service.

  He was reluctant to go to his own family, knowing that visit would not be half as comfortable as the one he'd just enjoyed.

  His misgivings were proved right. Tension was high. His parents, grandparents and Rebecca were stil squeezed into the smal farmhouse. His sister agreed to sleep on the living room couch so he and Marian could have a degree of privacy. Sam and Clara visited for a day, going home that evening rather than crowd the family even more.

  His father hadn't found employment and was working around the farm. It had never been prosperous, and as his grandfather had aged, so had the farm. Very little was needed to keep it in order. Frank soon heard that neither man felt the other needed to be there.

  The three days were long, and Frank wasn't sorry to pack up and leave. Rebecca was his only regret. She cried, clinging to him as he dropped their bags by the front door.

  "You can visit us in Des Moines," Marian promised.

  "Are you sure you want her to come?" Frank asked when Rebecca ran off to see if she could ride with them to the depot. "Our apartment barely has enough room for the two of us." He wondered what the neighbors would think of his rambunctious little sister.

  "Of course she can come. Life must be boring out here, living with al these adults."

  Frank knew she was recal ing her own childhood, surrounded by her parents and their friends, older people who had nothing in common with a young girl. He touched his lips to hers. No matter what they did, he thought, her caring spirit would always shine through.

  The train was fil ed with tired holiday travelers. A baby, dressed in a fril y pink outfit, cried and cried, her constant whimpers edging away the bright mood that most of the other passengers had experienced during the Christmas season. Marian curled into Frank's arms, tossing and turning as she tried to get comfortable.

  "Not much longer," he whispered, shifting so her hip didn't catch him again in the side.

  "How much do you suppose she cries?" Marian asked.

  "I don't know." His legs were cramped and he cons
idered walking the aisle to work out the kinks. "Being in this crowd is probably aggravating things."

  "I hope our baby doesn't cry that much. I'd go mad."

  He forgot about his stiff legs. Lifting her chin with one finger, he gazed into her eyes. "Marian, are you saying

  —" He couldn't finish the sentence.

  She nodded. "That's why the idea of Africa scared me so much. I hadn't been to the doctor yet, so I didn't want to tel you. But I saw my doctor while we were in Winston. The baby wil be born in the middle of June."

  June. A second chance. "This time, I'll be there. Every day, Marian." He crushed her in his arms, his mouth covering hers in kisses. "A baby. We're going to have a baby."

  "Frank—"

  "Shh." He couldn't let her worry about anything, he decided. She needed a husband who'd devote his life to her. To their baby.

  Is this your answer, God? he prayed silently, the clickety-clack of the train punctuating his words. Are You saying that someone else will have to save souls?

  Other ministers had families. Brother Grimes referred to his children often when sharing testimonies of God's love.

  He remembered her mother's words, that the women in their family had difficulty carrying a baby to term. But if she had the best medical care, and his complete attention? Surely they could change the odds in their favor.

  He would do whatever was needed to ensure that this baby was healthy.

  He could be the leaven, the salt of the earth, without being in the ministry ful -time. His own father had been active in their congregation before the change in his circumstances. He could do the same.

  "I'll speak to Brother Grimes as soon as we return." Grimes was the one who'd said that Frank's commitment to his wife was as sacred as his commitment to God. "I'll explain about the baby and withdraw from the seminary."

  "Frank, no! I can't be the one to make you give up your cal ing. Not if this is what you were meant to do.'

  He kissed away the frown lines on her forehead. "You matter to me, Marian, more than anything else. We'l figure out what we can do together, something that'll be suitable for both of us."