The Pastor's Wife

by Jennifer AlLee

  Nothing except thoughts of Maura.

  He went back around the desk and looked down at his sermon notes spread across its top. What a mess. His thoughts hadn’t been this jumbled in years. Another image of Maura popped into his head. She was at the council meeting, her dark hair pulled back, sitting rigid in a metal folding chair, taking all the shots that were thrown at her. She’d held her own with the council members, he’d give her that.

  Once she started talking about the theatre project, though, her reserve had dropped away and she’d become animated. Nick smiled. It was like the first time she stood in the theatre, and he had watched her transformation from hurt and guarded to open and excited.

  Nick's smile twisted downward. It was no wonder he was so confused. Dealing with Maura was like dealing with two different women. One was reserved, keeping her feelings to herself, not wanting to get close to anyone. The other was lively and vibrant, anxious to meet the task at hand. The problem was he never knew which one of them was going to show up.

  “Help me, Lord.” Nick prayed as he took up his pacing once more. “Help me focus on this sermon.”

  Husbands, love your wives.

  His feet stopped moving. The sermon had nothing to do with spousal relationships. Obviously, he was still distracted with thoughts of Maura.

  Nick was on the move again. “Help me focus, Lord.”

  Husbands, love your wives and do not be bitter toward them.

  “Colossians 3:18.” Nick sank onto the couch at the other side of the room. Grabbing a Bible, he looked up the verse, just to be sure. Yep, there it was.

  Nick stared at the pages of the Bible as it lay across his knees. Was this God trying to tell him something, or his own guilty conscious harping at him? Either way, he couldn’t ignore it.

  He read the verse again silently. Next he read part of it out loud. “Be not bitter toward them.” A hollow place formed in Nick's gut and was quickly filled with burning frustration. Wasn’t he entitled to some bitterness? He had loved Maura, but she’d walked out on him.

  Why did she leave?

  “You tell me.” The sarcastic answer came out of Nick so fast it surprised him. He winced, glancing up at the ceiling, waiting for a lightning bolt to slap him upside the head.

  Nothing. Just a quiet calm settled on the room, a peacefulness encouraging him to think.

  He put the Bible on the table and leaned back on the couch, sinking into the softness of the cushions. He and Maura had been so happy once. Almost from the first moment he saw her, he knew they were meant for each other.

  He and a couple of college buddies had gone to Sullivan's because they’d heard the food was good and inexpensive. They got in line, but instead of reading the menu board, Nick couldn’t take his eyes off the pretty, dark-haired waitress behind the counter—Maura, according to her nametag.

  She looked at the customer ahead of him with a pleasant smile. “How can I help you, sir?”

  The tall, thick-waisted man wore a battered ball cap with the name “Bubba” stitched across the back. With his beefy hands splayed on the counter, he slowly looked Maura up and down.

  “Well now,” he said, “I can think of a few ways you could help me out, but I don’t think they’re on the menu.”

  “I’m sorry, sir,” she said. “I can only help you with items that are on the menu. May I suggest a corned beef sandwich with a side of coleslaw?”

  The man hitched his thumbs in his belt loops, dragging the waistband of his faded jeans dangerously low. “A sandwich sounds mighty fine, but is there something else I can get … on the side, that is?”

  Maura's cheeks turned red. Nick couldn’t take another second of listening to the neanderthal customer and doing nothing. He stepped around Bubba and leaned a hip against the counter. “You might want to try french fries. Or maybe a side of fruit. That's more healthy.” He turned his attention to Maura. “Do you have any fruit?”

  Her eyes grew wide. “Yes, we have fruit,” she answered. Then she looked at Bubba. “Would you like fruit?”

  Snickers twittered around every table. Bubba frowned and pulled his wallet from his back pocket. “Yeah, sure. Fruit.” He tossed a ten-dollar bill on the counter, and sulked away to a table in the corner.

  A relieved Maura Sullivan looked up at Nick Shepherd and said, “Thank you,” with so much gratitude that he fell in love with her on the spot. The day they were married was the happiest of his life, and he’d vowed to always protect her and put her needs before his own.

  She wanted to see the gopher.

  Nick blinked. His call to Granger had come so fast. One of his professors told him about Faith Community, how the congregation wanted someone to assist the ailing senior pastor until another more experienced pastor could take over. The need was immediate, so Nick and Maura spent their honeymoon driving across the country. Maura wanted to enjoy the trip — see some sights — but he’d been consumed by the schedule. His schedule. He’d ignored her needs.

  She wanted to spend time with you.

  The job took up so much of his time. And just a month after their arrival, Pastor Wesson had a stroke. Suddenly, his temporary mentorship had turned into a request that he take over permanently. Honored to be trusted with such a responsibility, Nick didn’t think twice before saying yes.

  After that, he was always away at a meeting or involved in some kind of church business. He and Maura hardly saw each other. A chill swept over him like he’d just walked into a meat locker. He’d wanted so badly to please the congregation and not let them down. Instead, he’d let his wife down.

  But why did Maura leave? Nick put a hand to his mouth, the thumb pressing into his cheek. He’d neglected her; he saw that now. But why didn’t she talk to him instead of leave him?

  Be patient.

  Nick let out a breath. He could only control his own actions and feelings. He had to let go of any anger he still felt toward Maura. And he owed her an apology. In time, he hoped she’d tell him what else had driven her to leave. But first things first.

  He pushed off the couch and hit his knees. For now, it was time to pray.

  Maura pushed through the doors of Rosie's Diner and hurried to the counter.

  “Hey, Maura,” Josie called out from behind the cash register. “Work through lunch again?” It hadn’t taken long for the waitress to get used to Maura's schedule.

  “Something like that.” She tilted her head, reading the chalkboard behind Josie. “I don’t suppose you have any of the lunch special left?”

  “You’re in luck. Want a Coke with that?”

  “Diet.” Maura handed over a ten-dollar bill to cover the meal and tip.

  “Thanks.” Josie put the money in the till with a grin. “I just hope we don’t have anymore late lunchers because they’ll be out of luck.”

  Maura laughed. “You mean I’m not the only one?”

  Josie jerked a thumb toward the other end of the counter. “Nope. The reverend beat you by a few minutes.”

  As Josie walked away to fill her order, Maura turned and noticed Nick watching her. She hadn’t even seen him.

  “Hi, there.” She lifted her hand and a slow smile moved over Nick's mouth. Without a word, he motioned to the stool beside him.

  “So,” she said, sitting down. “You’re eating on the run today too?”

  He nodded. “I ended up working through lunch.”

  Old habits died hard. She used to wonder why he did it. How hard could it be to take time to eat a meal? Now that she was in the same position, she understood exactly how it happened.

  “Here's your food.” Josie held out two brown paper bags. “Let me get your drinks.”

  As Josie filled to-go cups at the fountain, the tangy smell of cheese steak and onions rose from the bag. Maura's stomach growled. A flush warmed her cheeks as she looked at Nick, whose shoulders shook with silent laughter.

  “Guess I’m hungrier than I thought.”

  “I know the feeling.” Nick picked up the cu
p that Josie set in front of him, nodding his thank you.

  After retrieving her drink and grabbing a few extra napkins, Maura headed for the door. Nick held it open for her with his foot.

  “Thanks.” She scooted around him, careful not to trip on his tasseled loafer.

  “No problem. So—” He looked down the street toward the church. Then he looked the other way toward the theatre. “Looks like we’re headed in separate directions.”

  As usual. She nodded.

  He lifted his sack and held it swaying between them. “Would you like to eat lunch together?”

  His blurted request almost made her drop her soda. “Where?”

  He motioned with his head. “We could go over to the park.”

  Neutral ground. Casual. And preferable to eating alone in her musty, still-dingy office at the theatre. Her stomach growled again. She needed to eat soon, even if that meant digging in right here on the sidewalk.

  “Sure. Lead the way.”

  They walked the block and a half to the park and sat at the first table they came to. Maura pulled her food out of the bag, salivating as she got a fresh whiff of still-hot beef. She started to unroll the sandwich from its paper wrapper but stopped when she noticed Nick hadn’t opened his bag yet. He sat across from her, hands in his lap, head bowed. Oops. She put her hands on the edge of the table and waited until after he said “Amen” to attack her food.

  Nick ripped the corner from a packet of ketchup and squirted it on his open sandwich wrapper. “I’ve missed seeing you around the last few days.”

  Maura looked at him over the luscious Philly cheese steak she’d just bitten into. After they worked out the schedule to avoid embarrassing bathroom mishaps, she and Nick hadn’t seen much of each other. She never considered that he might miss her.

  “How's it going at the theatre?” he asked.

  Now here was a subject she felt comfortable with. She nodded her head as she swallowed. “Good. I hired someone to wash down the walls so I could see what I was dealing with. Now that they’re clean, the murals look much better. They just need to be freshened up a bit.”

  They continued eating and exchanged small talk about Maura's plans. A breeze blew through the park, rustling the leaves of the thick oak trees shimmering above their heads. A bushy tailed squirrel scampered down the trunk of tree near them. Sitting up on its hind legs, it sniffed the air and cocked its head in their direction. Nick tore a piece of bread from his sandwich and threw it to the little beggar who snatched it with his paws, stuffed it in his mouth, and ran back up the tree.

  A pang of memory gnawed at Maura's gut. She remembered a similar time when they were still dating. Nick had tossed a french fry to a hungry seagull. As a result they’d been surrounded by a flock of greedy birds, flapping and squawking, demanding more.

  It was the day he’d told her about receiving the call to the church in Granger.

  “At least the squirrel didn’t have any friends.”

  The sound of Nick's voice pulled her back. She absorbed every detail of his expression—how his eyelids seemed half-closed and his mouth pulled down slightly at one corner. He remembered too. They hadn’t known it at the time, but both of their lives had changed that day.

  Maura looked down at her half-eaten sandwich. She wasn’t hungry anymore.

  “We had some good times, didn’t we?”

  Her head jerked up. “What?”

  He pursed his lips and his gaze darted away, then back again. “You and I had a good thing together. But as soon as I accepted the call to pastor here, I started neglecting you.” He reached across the table and took her hand. “I’m so sorry for that, Maura.”

  Her fingers burned where he touched them, the heat radiating through the rest of her body. They had gone for more than six years without any contact. Not a phone call or even a letter. So where had this come from, this sudden concern for her welfare? In spite of her painful memories, a small seed of hope took hold in her heart. Did he finally see her? Was his love for her finally stronger than his responsibility to his flock?

  “Why now?” She could barely speak past the lump that had settled in her throat.

  His expression turned sheepish. “God made it pretty clear to me what a jerk I’ve been.”

  God. The lingering taste of beef and onions turned sour in her mouth. She should be glad he acknowledged his past mistake at all. But the fact that someone else had to tell him, even if it was God, felt like sandpaper rubbing against her heart, grinding hope into dust. Couldn’t he have figured it out for himself? She yanked her hand from his grasp and started picking up the lunch remains.

  “Would you come to church with me this Sunday?”

  Her hand stalled in the middle of balling up the sandwich wrapper. “Excuse me?”

  “I know these last years have been … hard.” He rubbed his forehead and frowned. “I can’t stand knowing you blame God for my shortcomings. Why don’t you come back to church? Take that first step toward rebuilding your faith?”

  Pinpricks ignited in Maura's nose and behind her eyes as tears threatened to spill. So that's what this was about—the lunch, the apology. It had nothing to do with her. It was all about Nick's guilty conscience and his constant need to fix whatever was broken.

  She stood up slowly. “Let me make this perfectly clear. The last six years of my life have not been good. But it's incredibly arrogant for you to assume that you have anything to do with my relationship with God. I lost you, my father, my home, my business, my—” A single sob choked her, keeping her from blurting out the secret she’d kept hidden all this time. She pulled back her shoulders and swallowed her emotions. “Do us both a favor and concentrate on your flock, Pastor. They need you more than I do.”

  8

  Maura was chasing her tail. Literally.

  Not for the first time, she wished for a full-length mirror in the parsonage. Standing at the foot of her bed, she looked behind her, checking out the back of her cargo pants. It was no use. Instead of finding out whether the pocket flaps lay flat, she just went around in a tight circle, making herself dizzy.

  This is ridiculous. She put a steadying hand on the nearest wall and stepped into her Keds. It had taken her a good half hour to decide what to wear tonight. Why was she so concerned about how she looked, anyway? She was just going to the Wednesday night youth group meeting. Lainie thought it would be a good idea for Maura to meet the kids before she started to work with them.

  “Check them out in their natural habitat,” the genial youth leader had joked.

  And if anyone knew about being checked out, it was Maura. During the weeks following the council meeting, she’d been like a specimen under a microscope. She had meetings and consultations with everyone from carpenters to plumbers to pavers, and it seemed her reputation preceded her with all of them. If they weren’t members of Nick's church, they at least knew about the situation with Miss Hattie's will. Her first exchanges with new people were always interesting.

  “Well, nice to finally meet the infamous Mrs. Shepherd.”

  “How are you liking life in Granger this time around?”

  But one had become her personal favorite, “So you’re the one who ran off on Pastor Nick!”

  Each time, Maura had gone through the same basic speech. “Nice to meet you. I go by Ms. Sullivan now. Since this is a business meeting, I’d prefer not to talk about my personal life, but I can assure you I’m happy to be in Granger.”

  It got to the point where Maura considered having cards printed up so she could hand them to people upon first contact and avoid rattling off what had now become a well-rehearsed monologue.

  Despite the discomfort that usually prefaced her business meetings, they had gone well. She’d been surprised at the skilled labor available to her in the small town. A Granger native, Rachel had proved an invaluable resource when it came to finding the right person for the job.

  If only things were as smooth on the home front. Ever since their impromptu lunc
h in the park, the tenuous relationship between her and Nick had been strained. Thankfully, they both had such full schedules that they rarely crossed paths. But occasionally they’d bump into each other at the house, and a storm cloud settled in the room. It was a difficult living arrangement to begin with, but her refusal to attend Sunday services made it worse.

  Which made it all the more ironic that she now stood in her room, preparing to attend a youth group meeting at the church. It was the last place she thought she’d end up.

  “Oh, just get over it,” she muttered, snatching her purse from a chair in the corner. “You’re a grown woman. Start acting like it.”

  With a determined nod, she flicked the light switch and left the room. At the same time, the front door flew open and Nick and Lainie stumbled into the house. Nick's deep, throaty rumble mixed with Lainie's bubbly giggle. It took her by surprise. Nick sounded happy.

  Maura took a moment to soak in the scene. She hadn’t seen Nick truly enjoy himself in quite some time. Certainly, there hadn’t been a lot to laugh about since her return to this house. Even before that, during the last months they’d lived together as husband and wife, their interaction had been strained. Frustration seemed to be the emotion they most often had in common.

  Looking at him now brought back warm memories of the young man who first captured her heart. She’d almost forgotten how his face opened up when he laughed, as if he laid his soul bare for all to see. She didn’t want to admit, but it hurt that another woman could get such a response from him.

  They hadn’t noticed her yet, and she knew that the longer she kept her mouth shut, the more uncomfortable it would be when they realized she’d been hiding in the shadows. She strode down the hall. “So what's the joke?”

  Her voice came out all wrong, loud and sharp, Nick and Lainie obviously took it the way it sounded. They both froze, looking down the dimly lit hallway to where Maura stood. Nick quickly reverted to his irritated, closed off self. And Lainie, well, if Maura didn’t know better, she’d say that Lainie looked guilty. Which was just plain silly. Lainie didn’t have anything to be guilty about, did she?