by Bonnie Pega
“Oh yes.” She sighed as he ran a finger around the neck of her scoop-neck T-shirt. “Yes, we’re definitely—what did you call it?—venturing into dangerous territory here.”
“So let’s walk the line.” Gregory slid his hands beneath the hem of her shirt, then groaned in frustration when the telephone rang. “Just as well,” he said. “It’s getting too warm in here anyway.”
He dashed into the kitchen and grabbed the phone on the fourth ring, then came out a few minutes later. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I need to meet with the McKinleys for a little while this evening. A family problem. I’ll take you back to your grandmother’s.”
Annabelle tried to hide her disappointment. “No. I’ll stay here and wash the dishes and maybe you’ll get home before too late.”
“Leave the dishes. I’ll do them later, but I’d love to find you here when I get home.”
“I’ll do the dishes. After all, you cooked most of the dinner. Go on. I’ll wait.”
And wait she did. Nine o’clock. Ten o’clock. Eleven o’clock. Midnight. She was awakened by the barest touches on her face—a butterfly wing, a feather, angel hair. She opened her eyes to find Gregory’s face inches away, his gaze soft as he watched her. He pressed a kiss on the tip of her nose. “I’m sorry for being so long, sweetheart.”
“That’s okay.” She gave him a sleepy smile. “What time is it?”
“About one. Come on, I’ll take you home. I’m really sorry this ruined our evening, though. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow night, okay? Whoops, not tomorrow night. I’m going to the Missionary Society’s slide show of missionaries in Brazil. Tomorrow for lunch, then. I’ll take you to the newest restaurant in town, the Tastee Burger.”
“Do they have something there you can eat?” she asked around a yawn.
“I usually order the Tastee Burger Deluxe—minus the burger. They don’t mind. And they only charge me half price since they leave off the meat. I’ll pick you up about eleven-thirty.”
Halfway through lunch, Charlotte McKinley came into the Tastee Burger, her eyes red-rimmed. Gregory sat with her at another table talking while Annabelle stirred her melting milkshake with her straw and patiently watched his cheese fries get cold and gummy. It could be worse, she decided. He could have raced off to a demonstration.
He came over to her a few minutes later and said, “Do you mind driving yourself home? You can take my car. Charlotte will give me a ride home later and I’ll walk over to pick it up. I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He handed her his keys and gave her a quick kiss. “I’ll call you tonight after the meeting.”
Oh well, she thought as she drove home. She had to figure something like this would happen once in a while. When he’d left the night before, she’d wandered around his little house, curious about the man she’d so quickly fallen in love with again. When she’d opened the door of his study, she’d seen two solid walls of built-in bookshelves full of books on counseling.
And she’d seen something else that had surprised her. A degree in counseling from the university in Norfolk. She’d never thought about it before, but she guessed counseling was an important part of being a minister. It couldn’t have been easy being a full-time minister as well as a part-time student. His dedication impressed her.
He called her that night after the meeting and she lay in her bed talking to him, wishing she was lying in his bed talking to him. Still, their conversation was sweet and satisfying. Not as satisfying as being with him, but satisfying anyway. And he promised her he’d come by Wednesday night after choir practice was over.
Wednesday night they cuddled in front of the television, fought over popcorn, and shared buttery kisses. The tension that had begun to creep in around the edges of Annabelle’s thoughts receded.
Until Thursday night. Gregory took her to a new seafood restaurant he’d heard about in Norfolk, but no sooner had they walked in the door and given the hostess his name than she gave him a message from Virgie. Annabelle could tell it wasn’t good news by the look on his face. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. We’ve got to go back. It’s the McKinleys again.”
She forced a smile. “No problem, Gregory. Maybe we can try this again tomorrow night.”
“I’d love to, sweetheart, but I’m speaking at a rally over in Waverly at seven. I’ll come by afterward.”
“Sure.”
He cupped her face. “Look, it’s not like it was before. I promise. But Fleurique, a cosmetic company that tests on animals, is considering building a plant near Waverly. It’s important to let them know what they’re up against.”
Annabelle smiled again and nodded, but the uneasiness was back. She tried to push it aside, to ignore it, but it was getting harder to do.
Saturday night they had a wonderful dinner at Danni and Sebastian’s, and Annabelle found it easier to gloss over her doubts—though they didn’t go away. Still, it was good to see Gregory and Sebastian joke around and kid each other. It showed her another side to Gregory that she’d almost missed—a funny, whimsical side. It was real easy to fall in love with that side too.
Sunday he didn’t come for dinner because he had to drive back to Waverly after church for a meeting regarding Fleurique. He showed up midafternoon and took her for a drive to the beach. They held hands and walked on the sand for hours. When the sun went down, they sat on the cool sand and cuddled. But when Gregory brought up his proposal of marriage, Annabelle sidetracked him with kisses. She wasn’t ready to discuss that just yet.
The next week was more of the same. Monday, Gregory headed up the new youth outreach meeting. Tuesday he spent visiting various congregation members who were housebound for one reason or another. Wednesday night he had choir practice, though he came by afterward for a couple of hours. Thursday night was another Stop Fleurique meeting and Friday night was another meeting with the McKinleys after a quick trip into Tidewater with Lily Jones to meet with someone from the Save the Bay Foundation. And, of course, he was in his church office every day from nine to two—except Wednesdays when he volunteered at a homeless shelter in Norfolk.
Annabelle tried to be understanding and supportive, she really did. She tried to grin and bear it, but it got harder and harder to grin without clenching her teeth. To make things worse, she was getting the unsettling feeling that this wasn’t just a flux. This was normal. Yet when she brought up the Save the Bay Foundation and the Stop Fleurique campaign, he insisted those were especially urgent things that needed his attention.
The spare minutes she did spend with Gregory were wonderful. She wasn’t just in love with him; he’d rapidly become her best friend as well. They could talk for hours—when he had time to talk—and never run out of things to say, yet they were both equally comfortable sitting together in companionable silence. Of course, permeating everything was the passion that simmered just beneath the surface, constantly threatening to bubble over.
The following Monday, Annabelle showed up at Gregory’s at ten. He’d left the church secretary holding down the fort for the day and intended to take Annabelle into Richmond to see the museum and a botanical garden. As they left, the phone rang.
“Don’t answer it,” Annabelle said. “Come on, let’s go.”
Gregory grimaced. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I won’t be but a minute.”
I’m sorry, sweetheart. She sure seemed to hear those words a lot these days, she thought, her face wrinkling into a frown. When Gregory came back into the room, she quickly smoothed her features and put on a smile, then it, too, faded when she saw his face. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Hilary Cochran. She’s had another heart attack and she’s going into surgery for a quadruple bypass in a little while.”
“So you’re going to the hospital.”
He nodded.
“Then I’ll go with you.”
“Thanks, sweetheart. It’ll help to have you there.”
Last time Annabelle had been in the Norfolk hospital, it had been a long, long night. This, she could tell, wou
ld be a long, long day. Mrs. Cochran’s daughter, Pat, and her husband had been staying in White Creek since Mrs. Cochran had come home from the hospital, so they were right there. Her son was flying in again from Ohio.
Annabelle once more marveled at Gregory and how unfailingly supportive and caring he was with Pat and Tim. He talked with them, prayed with them, even made phone calls for them. After several hours he finally came back over to sit next to Annabelle.
“How’re you holding up?” he asked. “Okay?”
She nodded. “What’s going on?”
“No news yet. It’ll be another hour or two before the surgery’s over and we’ll just have to wait and see what happens. Pat’s feeling a little guilty, I think. She’s afraid she was letting her mother do too much. I told her that the person hadn’t been born who could keep Hilary from doing what she wants to do.”
“I’m sure that helped. Are you holding up okay?”
He smiled wearily. “I guess. At least this isn’t the crack of dawn.”
“That’s right. You never were much of a morning person, were you?”
“I’m still not. And, luckily, I don’t usually have to be up too early. Sunday mornings I’m up by eight, at church by nine. During the week, the same thing. The only time I get up earlier than that is Easter morning for the sunrise service. I don’t mind that because sunrise on Easter morning is as full of magic as Christmas morning. More so, because Christmas gave us a baby, Easter gave us a miracle.” He smiled again, then stood. “I’m going to the hospital chapel. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Ten minutes later she went to find him. When she opened the chapel door, she saw him on his knees in front of the altar. His hands were resting on the polished oak railing and his face was lifted up as he prayed silently. When he was finished, a look of absolute peace settled over him.
Funny, she thought as she saw the serenity that suffused his face. When she’d met him, he’d believed in God, but he’d never been especially religious. She knew that he had to have a deep belief in order to become a minister, but she was suddenly seeing just how deep that faith went. It was an uncompromising, all-encompassing faith, and it disconcerted her as nothing else had.
Up until now she’d been thinking of his ministry as just another one of his causes. Now she saw that it was more. So much more.
Thinking back over the past couple of weeks, she realized that he was on call almost like a doctor. Didn’t a minister have to contend with evenings spent visiting members of the congregation? And what about Saturdays spent preparing sermons or performing weddings? How about being called any hour of the day or night to counsel people or comfort them? Or how about having your own life be an open book, above reproach? One slipup, one indication that you might be just an average guy, could cost you your job.
Her heart slammed in her chest and her palms grew damp. How could she have been so unobservant? So blind? What a fool’s paradise she’d been living in! Her stomach churned and she stared at Gregory’s strong and precious features as he slowly got to his feet.
Dear God, she loved him, but she didn’t think she could compete with this cause. She’d always felt neglected because of his dedication, but this wasn’t just dedication. This was devotion. And this wasn’t just a cause. This was his life.
Annabelle and Gregory stayed until they knew Hilary Cochran had come through the surgery with flying colors. When they arrived back in White Creek, Gregory automatically headed his car toward his house, only Annabelle stopped him. “Gregory, I have a little headache. Would you mind taking me to Gran’s?”
“Are you sure you don’t want to come to my house? I’ll fix you something to eat and massage your shoulders.”
God, that sounded good. She could almost feel his talented fingers working the kinks out of her body. She just didn’t think he’d be able to work the kinks out of her thoughts as well. “No, thanks anyway. I think I’ll just lie down for a while and take a nap.” Please, just hurry and get me home. I’m being held together by only a couple of safety pins right now and I need to fall apart alone.
“Well, if you’re sure …” he began, disappointment edging his voice.
“I’m sure.” No sooner had his car stopped in front of her grandmother’s house than Annabelle headed up the walk. She went straight to her bedroom and closed the door carefully, then sat on the bed. She looked down at her hands, surprised to see them clenched in her lap. She loosened them and was even more surprised to see them tremble.
It wasn’t going to work. She knew that as clearly as if it were written on the wall across from her. Why hadn’t she realized it before now? Had she been so intrigued with the new feelings blossoming between them that she’d ignored everything else? Or was it that she just hadn’t wanted to notice?
She curled up in a ball on her bed, her thoughts spinning until she felt dizzy and sick. Her throat felt tight, her eyes burned and stung. Then she cried. She cried softly so that her grandmother wouldn’t hear. She cried for all the hurt she’d gone through nine years ago. She cried for the hurt she’d endured between then and now. And she cried most of all for how much it was going to hurt when she left him. Again.
What upset her the most was that she was going to hurt him too. And it really wasn’t his fault. She wished, with all her heart, that he’d find someone who could love him without reservations, could be there for him, stand by him, and not mind not being first with him. More than anything, she wished she could be that person. She couldn’t, though.
She skipped supper and stayed in her room, staring off into space, trying desperately not to think. Finally she slept and slept deeply, dreamlessly, but awoke feeling as weary as if she hadn’t slept at all.
Gregory called her about ten and she had to take a deep breath to keep the tears at bay. “I’m fine,” she told him. “My headache’s gone.” Just not the heartache, she thought.
“Are you sure, sweetheart? You don’t sound like yourself.”
“I’m fine. Really.”
“Okay, then.” His voice sounded doubtful. “I’ll come by after two.”
“No. I’ll meet you at church.”
“But why?”
“I just want to. Okay?”
“Sure. Whatever you want is fine with me.”
Annabelle hung up the receiver and had to force her hand to release it. She was going to have to talk to him that afternoon; that was why she wanted to meet him at the church. It was more neutral territory than her grandmother’s house. And she really didn’t want memories of Gregory’s hurt haunting Gran’s living room.
She arrived at the church at two on the button, just as Barbara Jennings, the part-time church secretary, was leaving. Annabelle forced herself to smile and chat politely for a minute, until Barbara glanced at her watch and hurried out, saying she needed to be home before her son got out of school. Once she’d left, Annabelle stood in the silent church sanctuary and breathed in the smell of polished wood and the slight musty aroma from the twenty-year-old hymnals they still used.
She searched for some measure of peace in the quiet solace of her surroundings, but couldn’t find it. She guessed she wouldn’t find it, either. Maybe never. Steeling herself, she turned to go upstairs to Gregory’s office, only he’d come downstairs looking for her.
“Annabelle.” He walked over to her and gave her a hug, then pulled back and looked searchingly at her. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Do you have another headache? Can I do something to help?”
She sighed heavily. “Sit down, Gregory. We need to talk.”
“I don’t understand. Is something wrong?”
Lord, this was going to be harder than she’d thought. She wasn’t sure she could get the words out at all. “Gregory, I—I—well, I want you to know that I really thought, I mean I really thought I could do it. But I can’t. I just can’t.”
He took her hand, but she pulled it away. “Don’t,” she whispered. “Please, don’t.” She wrapped her hands together in her lap.
“Annabelle, for God’s sake, what’s wrong?”
There was nothing else to do but blurt it out. “Gregory, I can’t see you anymore.”
ELEVEN
Gregory looked at her blankly. “I don’t understand. What’s happened, Annie? What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry, Gregory. So sorry, but the answer is no. I can’t marry you.”
“What do you mean?” He looked as if he’d been struck, then he closed his eyes for a moment and composed his features. When he spoke, his voice was calm and even. “Why?”
“It wouldn’t work. I’m not cut out to be a minister’s wife. I’m not the kind of woman who wants to share her husband.”
“Does this have anything to do with the times I’ve run over to Waverly about Fleurique? I told you that Fleurique and the Save the Bay meetings were just short-term things.”
“That’s not the problem. At least, not all of it.”
“Then what is?”
She was going to have to say it, was going to have to admit her failing. “I can’t compete with the biggest rival of all.”
“What rival? You’re not making any sense.”
“Your church. I can’t compete with your church. The people here love you, I can see that, and you love them. Your life belongs to them.” She blinked back tears. “But I can’t compete.”
“Annie, I can’t give up my church.” His words were laced with turmoil.
“No. No, I’m not asking you to. But I can’t do this. Somewhere there’s a woman who won’t mind sharing you and—”
Gregory grabbed her by the shoulders. “Don’t you dare tell me I’ll find someone else! Do you hear me?” He bit the words out and punctuated them with a little shake. “Don’t you dare!”
His tight grip hurt, but Annabelle stood passively in his grasp. She deserved his anger. God only knew, she was angry with herself.
His fingers gentled suddenly. “I don’t apologize for who I am, Annie. And I can’t promise that I won’t get called away time and again, but no one will ever love you more than I will. Please, give me a chance, sweetheart. Give us a chance. We can work this out. I know we can. We love each other.”