by Sarah Healy
Luke wrapped his arm around me and inched me closer to the bed, and my mother reached up and grabbed his hand. “Hold hands,” my mother commanded softly, her voice shaky. Kat clasped my father’s hand; Luke and Kat held mine. My mother closed her eyes and began a prayer of thanks.
When she had finished, I kissed my father on the cheek and looked at my mother, who nodded. She knew what I had to do. And so without a word I left the room and went back to find Mark. He was sitting with his eyes closed, his feet propped up on the chair across from him. His breath was the slow and steady sort that comes on the brink of sleep. I sat next to him, then reached over to pick up his hand, cradling it in both of mine. He took a jagged, startled breath and opened his eyes.
“Mark,” I said, staring at the dry, red patches over his knuckles. “I’m so sorry.”
He looked at me but did not speak.
Seeing the wariness in his eyes brought on fresh tears. “Please?” I pleaded. “Please forgive me?”
“I’m not going to give up the ministry, Ellen.”
I pulled myself onto his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck. “I don’t want you to,” I said, my damp face hiding in his neck. “I don’t want you to change.”
And then his hands slowly found their place on my back.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
It is seven months later and I’m sitting next to my mother, four rows away from the pulpit at Prince of Peace Church. Mitch and Luke are on my other side. Mark is speaking this morning on grace, on the idea that God’s love is without conditions. Sometimes I still notice the curious stares from the other congregants. That’s the pastor’s girlfriend. I hear she’s not even a Christian. But it’s not enough to make me run, not even close.
My father was kept in the hospital for several days after that night. We all stayed, taking shifts to ensure he would rarely be alone. And it was during that time, when we were so grateful to have one another, so grateful to be a part of our family—our flawed, imperfect family—that my mother first met Mitch.
Mitch had come because he loved Luke. It was really that simple, that plain. He didn’t intend to infringe on what he assumed was a private, delicate time, and so he met Luke at a small table in the hospital cafeteria. He and Mitch were still there when my mother returned earlier than expected from one of her brief, infrequent dashes home to shower and change clothes. She was headed for the elevator when she saw them, sitting with their heads inclined, holding hands discreetly under the table. She faltered for a second; then, feeling her stare, Luke turned his head and met her eyes.
I don’t know what Luke expected her to do, but it certainly wasn’t to walk calmly to their table and shake Mitch’s hand. “I’m Patty Carlisle,” she said. “You must be Mitch.” No one knows how she knew his name. Maybe one of us had slipped and said it. Maybe she had known it all along. Either way, Luke hadn’t expected her to say it with such warmth. “The Lord prepared my heart.” That’s what my mother says when asked about that moment. “He used me to demonstrate his grace.” I tend to think it was one of those rare, pure instances when we don’t put qualifications on love. When we need it so desperately, so urgently, that we accept it when it’s offered. So maybe my mother and I are really saying the same thing.
It didn’t happen instantly, Mitch becoming part of our family. It happened slowly, gradually, in a series of increasingly frequent meetings, some more tense than others. It’s still happening. And there is still far to go. But it’s better. And I’ll take better.
Less than a month after my father was released from the hospital, my parents had to leave their home. We all helped them pack and move their things—Kat, Luke, Mitch, Mark, and I—into a rented two-bedroom condo in Kat’s complex. My mother stared at the house as they pulled away, quoting softly from the Book of Matthew, “ ‘Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust corrupt… But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven… For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.’ ” My father rested his hand on her knee as they drove off.
We have found many small mercies in their situation. My father, having taken a desk job with the commercial construction company of an old associate, has a steady but relatively small paycheck. And though much of what would be considered their “wealth” was lost, their IRAs remained intact. My father still hopes to rebuild his business, but he knows it will be a long road, maybe too long a road at his age. He keeps himself busy, though, and is with Kat this morning, looking at possible spaces for a new salon she’s hoping to open. My mother, having found that a forty-year gap in employment is problematic in today’s job market, has taken a more active role in managing my parents’ finances and continues to volunteer at the family center, where I sometimes join her.
I never returned to Kent & Wagner. After a few days, I called and left a message for Philip. It was brief and to the point. I didn’t hear back from him. I sent an e-mail to Brenda in which I apologized for leaving so suddenly, and congratulated her on becoming a grandmother. We exchanged a few more e-mails, the last of which indicated that she had given her notice at Kent & Wagner and was moving to Chicago. “I can be a secretary anywhere,” she wrote. “But I can only be a grandmother there.”
Jill is due in a matter of days with a baby boy that they are naming Gregory Jr., after his father. She has asked me to be his godmother. “And when you and Mark get married, Greg Jr. can be your ring bearer,” she suggested, pushing, as always, for us to “make it official.”
Later, I’ll go to work at the Italian restaurant where I waitress several nights a week. It’s not a career, but it helps supplement my gig as an intern at the magazine where Mitch works. “They are going to offer you something permanent soon, Elle,” promised Mitch, who got me the position. But I don’t mind paying my dues, even if it means being the oldest intern in the history of the publication. I live simply, in a studio apartment near Mark, and use the money from my divorce settlement to get me by until I have an actual salary.
Soon Mark’s sermon will end, and he’ll step away from the pulpit, looking at me as he makes his way down the center aisle. He’ll spend a while greeting the congregation, patiently listening, nodding his head and offering comfort, hope, and kindness. I’ll stare at him as he gets pulled from conversation to conversation, and I’ll see him sneak glances at me as I talk with my mother, Luke, and Mitch.
My mother will leave first—there is a new church that she has heard wonderful things about, and she is just dying to visit it. Mitch and Luke will then walk to Luke’s car, holding hands, two people who love each other.
I’ll wait for Mark.
And though I still don’t know what I am, or how to define my beliefs, I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I am blessed.
Sarah Healy lives in Vermont with her husband and three sons.
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READERS GUIDE
Can I Get an Amen?
• • •
SARAH HEALY
READERS GUIDE
READERS GUIDE
A CONVERSATION WITH
SARAH HEALY
Spoiler Alert: The Conversation with Sarah Healy and Questions for Discussion that follow tell more about what happens in the book than you might want to know until after you read it.
Q. Can I Get an Amen? is your first novel. How did you take up writing, and why were you inspired to write this book in particular?
A. I never expected to be a writer. That I have managed to become one comes as the most pleasant kind of shock. I was in my late twenties and had just had my first child when I realized that it was what I wanted to do, and so I quietly set to work. My exposure to writing in college was limited to mandatory, requirement-filling English classes, to which I am ashamed to say I put in only a cursory effort. So I had a lot of catching up to do. For five years I wrote constantly, without really trying to get anything published. I began with nonfiction essays
—personal pieces on my life and family—as an attempt to try to teach myself the craft. The idea to write about a Christian family was born out of one of those essays. And I actually think attempting nonfiction first was a great way to get started, as writing is essentially telling the truth, even in fiction. Every story has its truth; you need to discover it and then tell it.
Q. How long did it take you to write the novel?
A. I remember sitting at my kitchen table on a sunny day in late July and typing the first sentence. Then the next. The story that had been in my mind became fully shaped in the execution of that first chapter. From that point on, I worked as feverishly as my children and job would allow. Each night, I went up to my room, sat on my bed, and wrote about a thousand words. That was my goal: at least a thousand words a night, at least six nights a week. That level of discipline might sound excessive, but being pregnant with my third child, I had something of a deadline in mind. And I did let myself slow down a bit toward the end. The first draft was finished in about four months. While I suppose the pace was rigorous, I wouldn’t have done it any other way. By working so constantly, I never had to get my head back into the plot or the characters; there wasn’t any ponderous, “Now, where was I…?” I always knew exactly where I was; I always remembered the tone of a scene.
Q. I suspect that many readers will see something of themselves in your protagonist, Ellen Carlisle. Is she you?
A. The unsatisfying but honest answer is: not really. I have imposed a number of my opinions, frustrations, and fears on poor Ellen. But she is very much a unique character in my mind, distinct from myself. She also rises to the occasion more than I think I could, given her circumstances; I would indulge in a bit more self-pity. I would have drowned my sorrows in spinach dip.
Q. Few writers of contemporary women’s fiction have tackled religion in a thoughtful but entertaining way, as you do here. Why do you think that is? Why did you want to write about it?
A. To be honest, I didn’t want to write about it. And I certainly didn’t want to tackle it. I think this was one of those cases where your subject chooses you; I found myself writing about Christianity in spite of myself. And once I realized that I was in some way compelled to pursue this topic, I knew that I wouldn’t be doing it justice by just sticking my toe in, so it ended up taking center stage in my first novel. Now, that’s not to say that I thought it was a good idea. For the duration of my work on Can I Get an Amen? I couldn’t imagine that anyone would actually want to read it. But I’ve come to believe that it’s the subjects that make you a little nervous, those that make you shift in your chair and glance over your shoulder, that prove the most fertile.
Q. I had a strong reaction to the scene in which Ellen is sitting in church and hears her mother’s prayer request for the healing of her infertility and divorce. Did something in particular in-spire that memorable scene?
A. Perhaps this says something about my sense of humor, but I actually think that is one of the funnier scenes in the book. Of course, it turns into one of the saddest, but that may be why I find it so resonant. Sadness lends humor poignancy; it gives it more than a single note. And while I can’t recall a personal experience exactly analogous to the request made for Ellen, I’m sure my mother’s prayer group knows much more about my personal life than she lets on.
Q. Family lies at the heart of Can I Get an Amen? Can you tell us something about your own family? Did you grow up in New Jersey?
A. I did grow up in New Jersey, in a big, close-knit family with born-again Christian parents. And as soon as I was old enough to be embarrassed about anything, I was embarrassed about religion. I’m sure part of that was simply pubescent angst, searching for a source of humiliation like a heat-seeking missile. And, like all thirteen-year-olds, I viewed my parents as inexcusably bizarre. (Although, let’s be honest, I think I had a better case than most…) However, what was once embarrassing has become endearing. And I would never be able to write anything without the unflinching support of my family.
Q. Often writers say that they couldn’t find the kind of book that they wanted to read, so they decided to write it themselves. Is that true for you? What do you like to read?
A. There are so many amazing writers out there that I find plenty of books that I want to read. That being said, I haven’t come across many that deal with religion—and, really, Christianity specifically—in a way that doesn’t seem loaded. Books involving Christianity tend to have the agenda of recruitment and conversion—or just the opposite. In Can I Get An Amen? I wanted religion to serve as a medium for a story full of compelling, sympathetic characters. And I love characters—that’s the common denominator in everything that I enjoy reading: great, quirky, flawed, familiar characters.
Q. What are you working on now? What do you hope to explore in your writing over the long term?
A. I am at work on my second novel, which again deals with family and love. And again, it is set in New Jersey. Though I live in Vermont now, I’m still a Jersey girl at heart.
READERS GUIDE
READERS GUIDE
QUESTIONS
FOR DISCUSSION
1. Have you ever played with a Ouija board? Attended church school of some kind? Are you willing to fess up and share your experiences?
2. What was your general reaction to the novel? What did you like and not like about it?
3. Which characters did you especially enjoy? Did they all ring true for you?
4. Did you have any sympathy for Ellen’s husband, Gary, who divorces her because she can’t have a child? What would you do in a similar situation? Do you think men and women tend to approach infertility in very different ways?
5. What do you think of the way Sarah Healy explores faith? Did the novel make you think about how faith can both bring families together and tear them apart? Did you find the depiction of religion respectful?
6. Would you say that you currently practice more or less religion than you were brought up with? What role has religion played in your own family?
7. Ellen’s mother, Patty, accuses her of being closed-minded about religion. In what ways might that be true? In what ways might the same criticism be lobbed back at Patty?
8. Ellen realizes that no one has ever asked her what religious beliefs she holds. People in church assume they know and everyone else steers clear of the subject. Has that been your experience? Why don’t we talk about our religious beliefs? Do we lose something by failing to?
9. Though Ellen seems ambivalent about Christianity, she always seems to turn to prayer during her most desperate times. Is it out of habit? Or do you think it signifies a deeper belief than she wants to admit?
10. It’s ironic that Ellen’s mother, Patty, makes Ellen’s divorce and infertility public through a prayer request, yet Ellen’s parents won’t tell even their own children about their imminent bankruptcy. What do you think is going on in Patty’s and Roger’s minds to make such inconsistency possible? Have you ever found yourself in a similar situation, with someone accusing you of one thing while being guilty of it themselves?
11. In the novel, Sarah Healy gently bursts what some might consider religious fantasies—for example, the idea that “being Christian” and attending church will somehow protect us from bad things happening, and that the material goods we buy are “blessings” from God. Without getting into specific religious beliefs, can you think of other current religious fictions?
12. Abortion is another highly sensitive subject that is rarely explored in contemporary women’s fiction. Do you think Patty was right in insisting that Kat give birth and then give her child up for adoption? Compare the “choice” Kat had in the mid-1990s to the choice that Patty had in the 1960s. Do you think our society has made any progress in finding common ground regarding this controversial issue?
13. Parker Kent is the villain of the novel, but Ellen has some sympathy for her at the end. Discuss the price that Parker pays to keep her marriage intact. What do you think Parker knew
and didn’t know about her father’s behavior toward Jill during that visit to Nantucket? Do you think Parker’s complicity back then influenced the kind of marriage she ended up having?
14. Have you ever dated a minister, or been a minister looking for dates? What particular challenges do ministers face in their love lives? Discuss some of the reasons why the love interest in women’s fiction is so rarely a minister. And, by the way, what did you think of Mark?
15. Unconditional love, both human and divine, is a theme in this book. Do you think it’s possible to love unconditionally?
16. Did you find the end of the novel satisfying? If the book continued, what do you think would happen to the characters? What would you like to see happen to them?
17. In the last line of the novel, Ellen states that she still doesn’t know what she is, or how to define her beliefs. Can you sympathize with her uncertainty?
READERS GUIDE
Keep an eye out for Sarah Healy’s next novel,
GOD SAVE THE QUEEN
Available in paperback and e-book in the summer of 2013
Jenna Parsons grew up on Royal Court, but her life is no fairy tale. Her eccentric twin brother is missing. Her mother, a former beauty queen, is afraid of being alone. And Jenna herself has a daughter, a house in the suburbs, and a live-in boyfriend—but no ring on her finger. She’s not expecting a happily-ever-after ending, but is a normal, ordinary life too much to expect? Or is it in the broken places where the richest treasures lie?