The Pastor's Wife

by Jennifer AlLee

  He’d gone to so much trouble. Not just preparing the meal and setting the table, but he’d cleared his calendar for the evening. It warmed her down to her toes. “Nick, I’m sorry. I had no idea you’d done all this. If I had, I would have come … back.” She’d almost called it home. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t let herself start thinking about this as home, no matter how good it smelled, or how irresistible Nick looked with his sleeves rolled up and water spots all over the front of his shirt.

  “No big deal. I had to eat, anyway. And now we’ve got leftovers.” He dismissed her concerns with a raise of one shoulder, as though the situation didn’t bother him. But Maura could hear the twinge of disappointment in his voice. “So, have you eaten already?”

  She nodded. “I ran into Rachel Nelson at the library. We ended up having dinner.”

  His smile became genuine. “That's great. I’m glad you’re reconnecting with old friends.”

  Friend, she thought. There wasn’t anyone else she’d connected with during her short residence in Granger. She’d tried to work with people: Bettie Schwaab on the Thursday morning Bible study, Lena Tyler on the Vacation Bible School planning committee, Stu Pierson on the hospital visitation team, to name a few. She’d tried and failed to work with so many people. The experiences had not bound her in friendship to a single person. But Nick wouldn’t know that. He’d thought she was getting along great with everyone, and she’d let him believe it. If he still believed it, there was no need to set him straight now.

  “Yeah, it was fun catching up with her. But it was so much more than that. We started talking about the theatre and—”

  Nick raised his hand like a traffic cop bringing her to a halt. “Wait. This sounds interesting. Why don’t we sit down, have some pie, and you can fill me in? Unless you’ve already had dessert too.”

  “No, we skipped dessert.” She saw the pie sitting on the counter, covered in aluminum foil. “What kind is it?”

  “Cherry. Your favorite. And yes,” he said before she could ask, “we do have vanilla ice cream.”

  Once more, Maura felt off balance. This was the same man who frequently forgot to call home to say he’d be missing dinner. Who left the house before the sun rose and often didn’t return until close to midnight. Who expected her to jump into every kind of service project with the same abandon he did. Yet here he was, not only remembering her favorite pie, but that she liked it a la mode. This must be what Alice felt like when she went through the looking glass. Everything upside down and not as it used to be.

  Maura pushed her confused thoughts aside and concentrated on the present moment. She’d felt completely full and satisfied after finishing dinner with Rachel, but now her stomach called out. Apparently, there was always room for pie.

  She took off her jacket and draped it across the back of a chair. “Okay, you sold me. You dish it up, and I’ll clear off the table.”

  Nick smiled and moved to the counter. Still feeling flustered, Maura turned to the table and collected the clean silver, leaving out the spoons so they could use them for dessert. As Nick spooned the pie and ice cream into chunky cereal bowls, she carefully stacked the good china. Without even thinking, she carried the plates to the opposite end of the kitchen and opened the cupboard next to the refrigerator. Sure enough, he still kept the set there. It was oddly comforting that, so far, everything was the same as she remembered.

  Everything except for Nick himself. It was eight o’clock on a week night, and there he stood, serving up pie. When they had first lived together in Granger, there was always something to do, some meeting or emergency to attend to, some reason for Nick to run off or not come home until late. Most nights, she’d been alone in the house. When he did stay home, he was so preoccupied with his next sermon or Bible study that she may as well have been alone. Now he wanted to sit, eat pie, and talk about her day. Amazing.

  “All set.”

  Maura turned to see that not only had Nick put the pie on the table, he’d filled glasses of ice water for both of them. He sat down and motioned for her to join him, then dug into his dessert, giving a moan of pleasure at the first bite.

  “You’re pretty satisfied with your cooking,” Maura said as she sat across the table.

  He shook his head. “I can’t take credit for the pie. Baking is not a skill I’ve been able to pick up. Thankfully, the seniors group took me on as one of their service projects. They bless me with something sweet once a week.”

  Of course. The congregation loved Nick, no doubt about that. And they loved feeding him. From the moment Nick and Maura first arrived in Granger, the Ladies’ Auxiliary had barraged the couple with covered dishes. The first week alone they’d received so many casseroles Maura had to start packing them into the freezer. Just the thought made her stomach roll. If she never saw another casserole again it would be too soon.

  Turning her thoughts back to dessert, she took a bite of the pie. The mixture of tart cherries and smooth vanilla ice cream almost pulled a moan out of her too. Instead, she just smiled. “It's very good.”

  “So,” he said, leaning forward, “tell me about your wonderful day.”

  In between bites she told him how she’d run into Rachel and the ideas they’d come up with. The more she talked, the more excited she became, until she’d forgotten about her dessert altogether. Nick didn’t interrupt as she went on about her plans. He just listened attentively and scraped his bowl clean.

  “So, what do you think?” she asked when she’d run out of news to tell him.

  “I think it's incredible. You’ve got a lot of great ideas, and it's wonderful that you’ve already got someone on board to work with. Rachel's a good woman.”

  Nick's casual statement set off warning bells in Maura's head. Rachel's a good woman, the kind who supports her husband and looks after her children. The kind who would never abandon her family. The kind you can depend on. Not at all like you.

  She pressed her lips together tightly and looked down at her bowl. What was left of the pie had become a congealed mess of soggy crust and melted ice cream. It wasn’t nearly so appetizing now. She stood up and took their bowls to the sink to rinse them out.

  Get a grip, she scolded herself. Rachel is a good woman. And you’re doing the best you can.

  “It's not just Rachel,” she said over her shoulder. “Her husband Derrick's a CPA. Of course, you already know that. Anyway, I’ll definitely need financial and tax advice, so I’m going to meet with him later this week.”

  As if on autopilot, she loaded the dishes in the dishwasher. She washed her hands, dried them on a towel hanging from the oven handle, and turned back to face Nick. An odd expression passed over his face. Was it yearning, or maybe sadness? Whatever it was, it was gone nearly as fast as it came.

  “Hiring Derrick is a good strategic move,” he said. “Not only will he be a great advisor, but it will give you an ally on the church council.”

  She leaned back against the sink and crossed her arms. “Why do I need an ally on the church council?”

  Nick cocked his head to one side, his mouth twisting in amusement. “In order to carry out the conditions of the will, you’re going to have to meet with them to coordinate having a church function at the theatre.”

  A moment of panic gripped Maura. She’d never attended a council meeting before, but she’d had dealings with the council members. Each one had their own idea of what a pastor's wife should be like, and Maura hadn’t been able to live up to any of them. The last thing she wanted to do was meet them as a group. “Is it absolutely necessary for me to meet with the council?”

  “I think so.” Nick was all business now. “There's a certain chain of command at a church. In order to organize your program, you’ll have to meet with the heads of the different areas of ministry, and the best way to do that is to attend a council meeting.”

  Maura shook her head. “I have no desire to put myself under the scrutiny of the council again. In fact, if Miss Hattie hadn’t made
this ridiculous performance provision, I wouldn’t set foot in that church again. Why can’t I just work out all the details with you?”

  She never should have said that. Nick's eyes grew hard. “Yes, avoidance would be so much easier for you.” An unfamiliar tone of sarcasm crept into his voice. “Unfortunately, we don’t always get to do things the easy way. Maybe you should—”

  He stopped in mid-sentence and pulled his cell phone from its belt clip. He must have had it on vibrate because he looked at the display on the front and frowned. “I’ve got to take this.” He flipped the phone open as he headed out of the kitchen. “Hello. Hold on a second.” He stopped in the doorway and turned back to Maura. “I’ll arrange a special council meeting next week to address this will business. If I were you, I’d spend some time getting ready.” He did an about-face, put the phone back to his ear, and resumed his conversation with the person on the other end. His voice grew fainter as he walked to his study. The door closed with a dull thud, leaving Maura standing in the silence.

  Well, that was it. It had taken longer than it used to, but this night ended up just like so many others had, with Nick dismissing her to take care of someone else. Maura was blind-sided by the disappointment lodged in her heart.

  She stood alone in the kitchen, her arms still wrapped around her sides. She’d been foolish to forget for even a moment that she was an outsider here. Yes, Nick had made dinner and served her dessert, but he would have done that for anybody. Nick took care of people, plain and simple. But as soon as someone else needed him, he was off to see to their needs. The congregation always came first. If she’d understood that before, when they first moved to Granger, the outcome might have been different.

  There was no use in looking back. She understood it now. And she wouldn’t soon forget it.

  “How did it go?”

  Nick sat in his desk chair, his foot crossed over one knee, his cell phone to his ear. On the other end, his Associate Pastor, Chris Zeeble, reported the status of the church council meeting.

  “Like you probably expected,” Chris answered. “Most of the council was surprised you weren’t at the meeting. I’d say a few of them were just this side of miffed.”

  Nick shook his head. He hadn’t missed a meeting once since he was installed. Evidently, some people did expect perfection.

  “No big surprise there. Anything else I should know about?”

  Chris went down the list of old news items that had been addressed. Bids were being taken for a new groundskeeper. The music director had submitted her plans for a Christmas cantata. Items from the church nursery team, the kitchen committee, and the new youth leader had been voted on and approved.

  “Wait a minute,” Nick cut in. “They approved Lainie's youth ministry plan? Just like that?”

  There’d been so much opposition to hiring the young woman as the youth director that Nick had expected a battle every time she proposed a new program. Maybe he hadn’t given the council members enough credit.

  “They didn’t spend much time talking about Lainie's plan,” Chris answered. “Probably because they wanted to move on to new business.”

  Nick brought his foot down hard and stiffened in his chair. Jumping into new business when the Senior Pastor wasn’t present could only mean one thing: the topic was the Senior Pastor himself.

  “This is about Maura, isn’t it?”

  Chris hesitated before answering. “Yes. More specifically, the fact that you and Maura are living together. Not the whole council,” he was quick to add, “but several vocal members seem to feel you’re setting a bad example.”

  A bad example? By living with his wife? “Did somebody think to bring up the fact that Maura and I are still married?”

  “Yes, absolutely. But the sticking point is that she left you, and you’ve been separated for so long. Some of them seem to think it negates the whole ‘till death do us part’ line in the ceremony.”

  Nick didn’t trust himself to speak. So he waited. And counted.

  “Are you still there?” Chris's voice cut into the silence.

  “Yes,” he answered curtly. “I was just counting to ten. Seems I’ve been doing that a lot lately.” Nick sighed. Help me, Lord. You’re the only one who can straighten out this mess. “If I try to look at this from an outsider's perspective, I guess I can see where they might have some concerns.” Actually, he couldn’t, but he was trying.

  “They’ve got to see the situation for what it is. The only reason Maura is living with me, the only reason she even came back in the first place, is because of the will. Miss Hattie meant well, God bless her dear sweet soul, but just because she tried to play matchmaker doesn’t mean it will work. I’m helping Maura with the theatre because it's the right thing to do and it will benefit the church. As for our personal involvement, we haven’t so much as shaken hands. She's living in this house, but we are not living together.”

  “Do you still love her?”

  The younger pastor's question brought him up short. Rising from his chair, he walked across the office to the bookshelf. There, pushed back between two large Bible commentaries, was a framed photo of himself and Maura on their wedding day. They were so happy and hopeful, as if the whole world was open to them. It was like looking at two strangers.

  Nick sighed. “How do you stop loving someone? Of course I still love her, but it's different now. You know that old Beatles’ song, “All You Need Is Love?” Well, it's a bunch of baloney. Love will only take you so far. There's also sacrifice and commitment and faith and—”

  “I get the picture,” Chris said, bringing Nick's rambling to a halt. “How's Maura doing in the faith department?”

  “Struggling. I’m not even sure she believes God exists anymore. If she does, she doesn’t believe He cares about her personally. And I’m partly responsible for that.”

  “How so?”

  “I’ve had a lot of time to think about what happened between us. I know I made mistakes. I spent almost all of my time doing church work, and I just assumed Maura would want to do the same.”

  “That's not good, but it doesn’t seem big enough to make her lose faith in God.”

  Nick frowned. No, it didn’t. And he didn’t think that alone was what upset her enough to leave him. “You’re right. There had to be something else. I just don’t know what it is. But it shook her foundations, and she hasn’t had an easy time since. Her father died a few months ago, and I think that was the final blow.”

  “So she's become a project for you now.”

  Nick smiled. Part of the reason he’d wanted an associate pastor was to have someone to confide in. Chris hadn’t known him long, but he certainly knew him well. “Yes, I guess you could say that. Her spiritual well-being has to be my first priority.”

  “I agree. But don’t forget about your well-being, spiritual and otherwise.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re the type of man who puts everybody else first. It's an honorable trait, but if you’re not careful, you’ll run out of steam. You’ll give so much of yourself there will be nothing left for you.”

  Nick fought back irritation. Wasn’t a pastor supposed to sacrifice for his congregation? Wasn’t he supposed to be Christlike? Why was that a problem all of a sudden?

  “So what's your point?” he asked Chris.

  “Even if you’re able to help Maura reconnect with her faith, that doesn’t mean she’ll want to resume her role as your wife, or even stay in town. For all you know, she may decide to sell the theatre as soon as the property transfers over to her and be on her way. And if that happens, I don’t want to see your heart leave town with her.”

  6

  It became clear to Nick that he and Maura needed to set some ground rules when he ran into her the next morning. He left his bedroom, still half asleep, when the door to the bathroom opened and Maura stepped out.

  In her bathrobe.

  For a moment Nick couldn’t process her presence. Maura was in his
house. Damp strands of hair curled around her face. A flame of contentment sparked to life deep in his core. She was so beautiful.

  She was so appalled. “Nick, I’m sorry. I didn’t even realize you were still here. Your door was shut, and I thought …” Her words trailed off as she pulled the edges of her robe closer.

  Cold reality doused Nick's flame. Yes, Maura was in his house, but he wasn’t supposed to be so happy to see her. And he certainly wasn’t supposed to be checking her out in her bathrobe.

  “No, Maura, it's okay. I’m sorry. I—” He touched his chest. Oops. “I’m not wearing a shirt. Hold on one second.”

  He ducked back into his room and threw on a T-shirt. When he came back into the hall, it was empty.

  “Maura?”

  “I’m in here.” Her voice called out from behind her closed bedroom door. “I’ll be right out.”

  Rather than wait for her by the door like a vulture, he went to the kitchen and poured two cups of coffee. He was sitting at the table when she walked in. She’d put on jeans and a T-shirt and fastened her still-damp hair at the base of her neck with a big clip.

  With a questioning look she pointed at the extra coffee cup.

  “I figured we could both use this.” He motioned to the chair across from him. “Do you have time to sit?”

  “Sure.” She sank into the chair and wrapped her hands around the mug. Neither one spoke for a moment. Finally, she laughed. “I guess Miss Hattie didn’t stop to think about this house having only one bathroom.”

  Nick shook his head. He’d been thinking just the opposite. The old gal probably counted on the close quarters to work to her advantage. “It will help if we work out some kind of schedule. But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  She took a drink of her coffee, waiting for him to continue.

  “I want to apologize for last night.”

  “Really?” She was so surprised, she nearly dropped her cup.