Reunion: A Novel

by Lauraine Snelling

  “Many marriages don’t have children. God has different plans for different people.”

  “Do you think this pregnancy was in His plan?”

  Leah shook her head. “But I do know that God promises to bring good out of evil for those who love Him.”

  “And are called according to His purpose. I never understood that last part.”

  “We are all called, but we have to answer and go with Him.”

  Kirsten rubbed her eyes and yawned. “I better text José and tell him I’ll meet him tomorrow.”

  “You’re not working for Keira tomorrow?”

  “Nope, day after.” Kirsten shut down her laptop and got up to set it on the desk and plug it in. She texted José and set her cell on the nightstand. “I thought I’d work on a flyer tomorrow.”

  “Oh, Lindsey called.” Leah rose and headed for the door. “A cold washcloth will make your eyes feel better.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Kirsten changed into her pj’s and located a spiral notebook on her bookshelf. She ripped out the pages that had been used and wrote the date at the top of the page. “Question one: are you a boy or a girl? What do I call you now? I need a name for reference. You cannot be an it because you aren’t. You are a person growing inside of me.” She reached for her Bible on the shelf above her bed and flipped to Jeremiah 1:5. “Behold, I knew you in your mother’s womb.” After copying that on the page, she read further.

  As she drifted off to sleep, she remembered a sermon of her father’s on forgiveness. That God promised to remember her sins no more. How could that possibly work when the product of her sin was growing within? Her father also said you had to forgive yourself. How, when the reminder would be with her every day? She could just hear the gossip when this got out. How could she do that when she claims to be a Christian? They took the chastity vow, remember? She clenched her eyes closed and her fists tight. No wonder they used to send the girl away to live somewhere else. She’d read about that in a novel one time, well, more than once.

  But things were different now, weren’t they? Girls who got pregnant stayed home with their families and… another thought crept in. Did she want to do that? Was she brave enough to ignore the gossip? The looks? More tears leaked into her pillow.

  In the morning she called José and asked when they could meet at the park, at their favorite table.

  “I have to be at work at noon, so right away or tonight after I get off.” His words were dressed in ice.

  “Half an hour?”

  “You want me to come there instead?”

  “No.” All she needed was to have her father come home. Who knew what he would do? “I’ll meet you there.” Besides, this way she could leave when she wanted or needed to.

  Instead of washing her hair, she clipped it up and slipped into shorts and a T-shirt. Since her mother wasn’t in the kitchen, she left a note on the table and exited by the back door, in case her father was in his study.

  Leah had a basket full of weeds by her side as she knelt in front of a flower bed. She heard the door click and looked up. “You want to come help me?”

  “I’m meeting José at the park. I might be right back.”

  “Did you eat something?”

  Kirsten waved a food bar. “I’ll be okay.” She ripped it open and took a bite as she left the yard. She’d almost asked where her dad was but realized she didn’t really want to know. For a change she was almost in a good mood and seeing him would jinx that. She finished the bar, stuffed the wrapper in her pocket, and picked up her pace to a jog. Was this only day three after graduation? It felt like she’d lived a lifetime since then. And here she’d thought that was the beginning of her new life, free from school and classes and homework. Only now the chains were even stronger.

  The more she thought, the faster her feet moved and she ran hard the last block and into the park. The mower had just been by and the smell of new grass got her attention. She slowed her pace back to a jog and looked ahead to see José already at their table. She knew she wasn’t late, so that meant he was even earlier.

  He didn’t wave, didn’t smile—just sat on the table top, feet on the bench seat, waiting.

  The urge to turn and run the other way made her falter. But only for a moment. She sucked in a deep breath and strode to the table to take a place on the same side, but two people could have sat between them. She was not going to stand in front of him like a little kid called to the principal’s office.

  He turned his head to look at her. Usually his eyes were warm and full of love. Not this time. Cold, black coal seemed a better description. “Good of you to finally call.”

  “Sorry. I’ve been having some heavy stuff to deal with.” And you only made it worse calling all the time.

  “I wanted to help.”

  “You can’t.” No one can. “I just have to get through this.”

  “In case you’ve forgotten, this baby is mine too.”

  “As if I could forget.” She stared straight ahead, her eyes narrowing.

  “If we were married, I could be there for you.”

  “How could you? You’d have to go to work. Where would we live? How would we pay the rent?”

  “We would live with my grandma. She said we could.”

  “That’s great. Tell her thank you for me. But what about fall? When college starts?”

  “I’ll work during the day and go to the community college at night. You can go during the day.”

  “Until the baby comes. What about your scholarships, my scholarships, med school, all the plans we had? What about all that?” Her voice rose but she swallowed it back down. “Can you support us on lifeguard pay or working at the grocery store?”

  “So what do you want to do?” He threw himself off the table to stand in front of her, his eyes flashing.

  “I don’t know yet! But I know one thing. I do not want to get married. Not now. Not in two weeks. I need time to work this out myself, without you putting more pressure on me than I am under already.” She stood and glared right back at him.

  “I thought you loved me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh great, play the sad card.” She wanted to say “I do love you” but the words would not come.

  He stiffened and leaned a bit forward. “You want time? Fine, you can have all the time you want. Call me when you get around to it.”

  She watched him stride toward his car. If this was how he acted when he got mad, so be it. She dashed the tears that blurred the shape of his black car as he roared away. It would serve him right if she never spoke to him again. And here she had wanted to tell him she had made some decisions. Number one—no abortion.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Read this for me, please.”

  Leah looked over her shoulder to see her husband holding out a piece of paper written by hand. “What is it?” She rinsed the flour off in the sink, thinking she would say “how about later,” but the stony look on his face stopped her. Frying chicken could wait. She dried her hands and took the paper, sitting down at the kitchen table. For some reason, she felt the need to sit. This did not look to be a pleasure.

  To the elders of Munsford Community Church,

  It is with great sorrow that I offer my resignation as pastor of this community of faith, effective immediately.

  Leah laid the paper down and looked up at him, leaning with his rear against the kitchen counter. “Oh, my darling…” She rolled her lips together, shaking her head, and when he said nothing, she went back to reading.

  I love these people and this church with all my heart, but there are circumstances beyond my control that obligate me to do this. I have always preached the inerrancy of the scriptures, therefore I must comply. Since I have learned of my daughter’s out-of-wedlock pregnancy, I have to concede that I do not have control of my family and therefore these verses apply to us, to me. I have wrestled with the Spirit, but the facts remain.

  I do not know
what tomorrow or the next day holds, but I know who holds them in His mighty hands. I cannot be a stumbling block to anyone’s faith. I cannot preach forgiveness and grace when I am fighting with all that is within me to accept either of those gifts, or to extend them to the ones I love.

  Thank you for your friendships and these years we have had together.

  In Christ’s holy service,

  Marcus Sorenson

  Leah propped her forehead in her hands. “I think you are rushing this.” There, she’d said it. She’d been so afraid this was coming and now it lay before her. Lord, give me wisdom here. Please, I need it right now. “Don’t you think we need to talk this over? I mean, this affects us all.” No, those were not the right words. She turned to look at him.

  “You think I want to do this? The Bible clearly states that one who cannot control his family and household is not worthy to pastor or serve in a leadership capacity in a church. How can I expect other people to live by the Word if I don’t?”

  “But this isn’t your fault!”

  “Before God, I am to blame along with them. I asked you to read it to make sure it is correct. Not to correct my actions but my words.” He stared at his crossed arms. “I see no other way.”

  “Wouldn’t it be wise to talk this over with your mentor before you submit it?”

  “What good would that do? The Word is the Word. Better this way than somehow it leaks out and someone has to confront me.” His head kept shaking. “I cannot be a Pharisee, living above the law while laying it on others.”

  “Marcus.” She rose and turned to wrap her arms around his waist so he was forced to hold her. “Please, can we pray about this, talk some more and—”

  “What do you think I have been doing, if not praying, seeking, searching for some other way? There isn’t one. I won’t send it right this minute, but the meeting of the elders is two nights away and I thought to send it to Jim first, since he’s the president, and then pass out copies at the meeting.” He rubbed his forehead. “I can’t even think what day that would be.”

  “Thursday.” If only she could wipe the sorrow from his face. Having him mad would be better than this. His heart was indeed breaking.

  He tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. After a long pause, he whispered in a broken voice, “I don’t know what else to do.”

  Because he was such a man of action, she knew what a terrible admission this was. When someone needed something, he put the wheels in motion to make it happen, like the tornadoes to the south or the repairs to a decrepit house in town so the old woman living there could continue to do so and not get rained on. He led by example, walking his faith, not just talking it.

  “Marcus, I hate to put any more pressure on you, but you have to talk with Kirsten.”

  “I know. For a while I was too angry but…” His voice trailed off.

  “But what? She needs you to at least say you don’t hate her.”

  “I don’t hate her. I told you that before.” His voice clipped the last words.

  At least that sounded better than the despair. “But you need to tell her.” Leah paused, letting an idea grow. “If she were one of the other girls in the congregation, and she came to you, what would you say?”

  “But Kirsten isn’t one of the other girls. She’s my daughter.”

  “I know. And?” She waited without moving or seeming to breathe.

  “And…”

  She watched the struggle going on in this man she loved so dearly.

  “And I guess I expected more from her.” He sniffed and touched his forehead to hers. A snort and he shook his head. “I would say to her that abortion is not an option. Giving nine months of your life right now seems insurmountable, but the time will pass quickly and at the end of that time, you can pick up your life again and go on.” It sounded so glib. “But what about that baby then? Do we want to raise our grandchild so Kirsten can go on with her planned life? Does she give it away?” He heaved a sigh that came from the soles of his feet. “It sounded so much easier when we were actively supporting the antiabortion programs.”

  “I know. I’ve been going over the same things.”

  “Any answers?”

  “No, because the decisions aren’t ours to make.”

  “What direction we encourage her is up to us. Strange, I guess I never dreamed one of our children would do this. I trusted her, and I trusted José, and look where it got us. I’ll talk with her soon.”

  She closed her eyes and leaned against his chest. His heart beat steadily, surprising for a broken one.

  Marcus gripped her upper arms and set her back enough so he could move. “I’ll let you get back to supper.” His businesslike voice was back in place. “I’ll go put this in the computer but I won’t print it out yet, at least not to send out. Maybe later tonight.”

  She wrapped her arms around her waist and watched him walk away. Lord, get us through this and help us still be a family, please. And hanging over her head was the reunion coming up so quickly. Next year, would they be among the relatives visiting from out of town? How could they stay here when he resigned? Where would he work? What would he do? So many questions needing answers and none of them easy. She heaved a sigh. They couldn’t live on her salary, which went to help pay the school bills. She could always get more hours but still that wouldn’t be sufficient. She understood the scriptures he referred to, but surely there was another way.

  Who felt like making fried chicken for supper now? And here she’d been hoping she could get him to talk to Kirsten tonight, after an early supper so she could have a nap before going to work. Perhaps he would, but she had a feeling he’d said that to put her off. Not like him, but then nothing in this whole thing was like any of them. No matter what happened there tonight, life at the assisted-living facility was far more simple than what was going on under her own roof. She picked up her cell on the first blip.

  “You feel like going out to the home place in the morning?” Keira asked.

  “I work tonight, remember?”

  “Sorry, I forgot. Did you get through any more of those pictures?”

  “A few, why?”

  “I’m still hoping to find more on That Man.”

  “How about Thursday?” Keira still had to tell Marcus, but now wouldn’t work either. This had to stop.

  “I might go before then but we’ll plan on that. Thanks.”

  Leah turned the burner on under the cast-iron skillet and poured in oil. As it heated, she dredged the remaining chicken pieces in the seasoned flour and laid them carefully in the hot pan so it all fit. Her mind wandered as she scrubbed and cut up the potatoes. What was going to happen to them in the next weeks?

  All because of two kids who let their passion get away from them. A flame of anger shot up, from coals within she was not aware were still alive. Their daughter—right now she didn’t even want to say her name. Anger was useless. Screaming would never solve anything. But right now that’s all she wanted to do. Here she was, caught in the middle again. Years ago, when there had been any problems with one of the boys, she’d resolved to never be in the middle again. Let the two opposing sides work it out themselves. In this case, sister talk to brothers, daughter talk to father, and father talk to daughter, and mother stand back and pray for them all.

  She turned the chicken and forked the potatoes to see if they were done. No one was even here to set the table. Did she have to take care of everything? Where was Kirsten? She’d last seen her working in the south flower bed, pulling weeds like they were her mortal enemies. She’d not commented on her meeting with José, but being her mother and knowing how to read body language, Leah knew it had not gone well. Not that it could, really. They were polar opposites and there was no middle ground. Or at least there didn’t seem to be. It wasn’t like this was a discussion of where to go for supper or what movie to see.

  Leah checked all the kettles one more time, then headed outside to find her daughter, who wasn’t anywhere in the
yard. Back in the house, she called up the stairs. No answer. She called Kirsten’s cell phone and it finally went to voice mail.

  “Where are you?” Leah left the message, then sent a text with the same message and added, “Supper is ready.” Taking the Jell-O salad out of the refrigerator, she set it on the table and got down the bowls and dishes for serving. While the chicken drained on paper towels, she made the milk gravy the way Marcus liked it, and let it simmer while she went to call him to supper.

  “I’ll be right there,” he answered while he studied the computer screen.

  “I’m putting it on the table now.” Her cell blipped with a text message from Kirsten. “I’m out at the home place. Eat later. Sorry.”

  What could she be doing out there? Leah clicked her cell closed and put it back in its holster on her belt. She set the food on the table, poured water in two glasses, and took her seat. When Dagmar was alive, Kirsten often walked out there to spend time with her grandmother. Or ran, more often than walked, as she grew older. She could have let me know. But maybe it was better this way. This was not a good time to spend a meal together, anyway.

  Marcus sat down and faked a smile as he looked at the meal. “Thank you. Let’s pray.” He reached across the table and took both her hands in his. “Father God, thank you for this food and for Leah who fixed it. Amen.”

  Leah passed the chicken platter first. But while Marcus put the food on his plate, he didn’t appear to know what he was doing.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “My napkin.”

  “It’s in your lap.”

  “Oh, thanks.”

  He ate one leg instead of his usual two and half the potatoes and gravy remained on his plate when he pushed it back. “I can’t eat any more. Thank you for trying.”

  When he glanced at Kirsten’s chair, Leah said, “She’s out at the home place.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know, but often when she needed to talk she’d go out there and Grandma would make it all better.”

  “Well, not this time. Mother would be horrified.” If Marcus knew what Keira had discovered, would he still think that? Leah wondered. Dagmar had been in the same situation as Kirsten. Because of that, would she have understood?