Chapter 12
Ian was waiting at his desk when Greg and Chelsea entered his office later that afternoon. This week, he’d actually been relieved when the couple hadn’t shown up for worship, given the church ladies’ antics.
Greg looked marginally less hostile than he had the week before. Chelsea seemed to be wound even more tightly than she had been at their previous meetings. One had to wonder what Greg had said to her on their way to the kirk.
Ian’s immediate concern had been that Greg wouldn’t come to the next counseling session. Now, he realized his error. Greg would be at each and every session. There was no way Greg would allow Chelsea to come by herself or risk her having a conversation of which he wasn’t in control.
“So, how many of these things do we have to come to?” Greg asked.
Ian resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Really, was that the best Greg could do? To act like a five year old to get his way? “Four.”
“I thought it was just three,” Chelsea said.
“I think we’ll find plenty to talk about to fill today’s session and two more.”
“The sooner we get started, the sooner we can get out of here,” Greg pointed out.
Okay. There was definite hostility in the air. Since Ian hadn’t seen or spoken to either of them all week, he had to assume that what had changed was something between the two of them. Had they been fighting about what they would share while at counseling? Arguing about the wedding? Disagreeing about where they would live once they’d tied the knot?
It was time to change his strategy. At the rate this session was going, it could be their last. It was time to get down to business. He could live with a redeemed Greg and Chelsea. He could live with Greg and Chelsea going their separate ways. But he could not stand the thought of marrying this couple with so many issues between them still unresolved.
“We’re going to talk about your wedding vows today.”
“I thought I was supposed to write a song.”
“We can save it for the end.”
“I want to sing it now.”
Ian looked at Chelsea, who sat frozen in her chair.
“Fine. You go ahead, Greg.”
Greg punched a button on his MP3 player and a rap beat started playing. “My baby brings me beer. Empty can? Hey – never fear, cuz my baby, Chelsea’s, here. Hey babe, I need a beer, served with just a smile, some cheer, now don’t let me hear you jeer, you bunch of weir-dos, cuz my Chell is great at refilling beers.”
“That’s what you wrote about me? That’s all you think I’m good for?” Chelsea burst into tears.
Greg smiled and didn’t even attempt to comfort her. The jerk.
“Greg, it sounds to me like you only like Chelsea when she does want you want her to. And that if she were to stand up for herself and do what she thinks is right, that you wouldn’t like her any more.”
“That’s not fair.” Chelsea swiped at her tears and rose to Greg’s defense.
Greg’s defense?
“It’s just a song. He’s just joking. All his songs are like tongue in cheek. They’re a parody.”
Greg laughed. “Naw, that’s pretty much what I think of her.”
“You,” Ian said. “She’s here in the room. If you’re going to say it, say it to her. If you’re going to slam the woman you supposedly love, then be a man, look her in the eyes and say it to her face.”
“But-” Chelsea squeaked.
“Let Greg speak,” Ian said.
“But-”
“No. It’s fine, Babe. I do like you because you’re so nice to me. Is that a crime?”
“Chelsea is a very smart, very capable, very talented woman, Greg. You don’t think this song is demeaning to all that she is and all that she’s accomplished?”
Chelsea visibly flared. “Greg is very talented, too. And he’s probably smarter than I am in a lot of ways.”
Right. He has a real knack for making women feel worthless. Greg clearly excelled at that.
Chelsea was still sniffling, and why she was mad at Ian and not Greg, Ian couldn’t begin to fathom.
Now they were both glaring at him.
“So – let’s talk about your marriage vows.”
“What if I don’t want to?” Greg said.
Ian ignored him. “Greg, I noticed on the questionnaire that you filled out that you neglected to respond to the sections about whether or not you have children from any previous relationships.”
Greg looked at him, his eyes full of insolence and belligerence, and a few other assorted emotions that a pastor rarely sees. Because for better or worse, most people were on their best behavior when they were in the presence of the pastor. Most people tried to hide their worst traits, not only when they were at church, but when they were trying to impress their future spouse. Unless this was Greg’s good side.
“Greg?”
“You’ve been talking to Emily, haven’t you?” Chelsea turned on him like a rabid dog. “She’s been spreading lies about Greg since day one. She’s just jealous! She didn’t even have a boyfriend until a few months ago, and she couldn’t stand the fact that Greg and I are so happy, and that I had someone to love and she didn’t.”
Greg didn’t say a word, but his eyes were not only staking their claim, they were taunting Ian with victory.
Go ahead and try to split us up, Greg was saying, as loud and clear as a person could, non-verbally. Give it your best shot, dude. Makes no difference to me. Cause I know – you know – you’re gonna fail.
“Chelsea, we’ve established the fact that you’re going to be a great lawyer. You’re very adept at defending your cause. But I’d like to hear what Greg has to say,” Ian said.
“But-”
“Hey.” Greg cut her off. “It’s cool, Babe. Like I said, one of the major reasons I like being with you is because you do nice stuff for me like getting me more beer when I don’t want to get up. Is that a crime?”
“Of course not, sweetheart. I love waiting on you. I’m just sorry I’m not home more often. I’d love it if I could take care of you 24 by 7.” Chelsea leaned over and kissed Greg’s nose.
For a moment, Ian thought he might be ill. How could a man be so good looking on the outside yet so foul on the inside? He took a deep breath. “Okay. Moving on to your vows. Wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her?”
“Of course he will,” Chelsea snapped. “Would he have asked me to marry him if he didn’t love me?”
Greg just leered at him.
“Wilt thou comfort her?”
“Greg is the best snuggler in the world.” Chelsea reached down and tried to twine her fingers through Greg’s. He kept his fists clenched for a moment, then reluctantly let her pry apart his fingers.
“Wilt thou honor and keep her in sickness and in health?”
“Only if she can still walk to the refrigerator and get me more beer.”
“Anything else?” Ian asked facetiously.
“Well, you know, she’d have to be able to do it.”
Chelsea’s face crinkled up like she was going to laugh, but when Greg didn’t, she didn’t.
“Wilt thou forsake all others, and keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”
“What about for richer or poorer? Why did you skip that part? ‘Cause we’ve been poor ever since we met, and when Chelsea starts raking in the big bucks the guys and I are going to buy a new motor home and catch the first ferry for the mainland.”
Greg wasn’t stupid. He was just confident that Chelsea was so firmly under his control that she wouldn’t leave him even if he told her the truth and flaunted it right in her face. She was so afraid of losing him that she would never call him on his oafish behavior. And he knew it.
“Greg, you’ve evaded my questions about children, and now you’ve refused to promise that you’ll be faithful to Chelsea. How about the truth?
Do you have any intention of pledging yourself to Chelsea or do you intend to keep sleeping with every woman who will have you?”
Now Greg laughed. But Chelsea didn’t. She blinked and looked at Greg, then at Ian. “Do you really think Greg would...?”
“Greg?”
“Hey – they change these stupid vows all the time anyway. That whole shtick about what God has joined together, let no man put asunder isn’t worth the paper it’s written on any more. More people get divorced these days than stay married. And no normal woman in today’s day and age would pledge to obey her husband, so what did they do? They took out that part. Well, no respecting man I know would ever promise to never sleep with another woman for the rest of his life, so you know what we all think? You should take it out. If the women won’t obey us, then we won’t be made to be faithful to them.”
Ian just looked him. Chelsea didn’t utter a peep.
“What?” Greg scratched himself. “Everybody knows it’s physiologically impossible anyway. Men are made to be hound dogs.”
“Men are made in God’s image, and with His help, they are perfectly capable of remaining faithful to one woman.”
“So is what they all say true?” Chelsea’s voice squeaked out of her mouth like a balloon loosing its air, her gusto gone. “Is Charlie your baby?”
“His mother is a lying slut. That’s what everybody knows.”
“But did you sleep with her?”
Greg just grinned. “You know the deal, babe. A witness isn’t allowed to incriminate himself. It’s the law.” And then he laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world.
“What about the rest then?” Chelsea had tears running down her face. “Is the little girl who belongs to that tramp who comes to hear the band play all the time your daughter?”
Greg shrugged.
“Oh my God.” Chelsea moaned. “All my friends have been trying to tell me for months, and I wouldn’t... I believed you.”
Greg still looked unfazed, even a little cocky. The man simply didn’t believe Chelsea would leave him. And maybe she wouldn’t.
Ian turned to her. “I’m sorry, Chelsea.” He wanted to say more, to tell her that she was a wonderful woman who deserved to be honored and cherished and admired, that she would be better off alone than with a man who treated her with such blatant disregard, that she should hold out for someone who loved her, for heaven’s sake.
Chelsea and Greg were glaring at each other now, she, like, How could you? And he, like, What’s with you?
Ian sighed. Maybe if he had more experience... He sometimes wondered if his critics were right. Maybe he had no business dispensing advice on relationships when he was such a novice himself.
Greg stood. “Let’s get out of here, Babe. We don’t need this.”
Please God. Ian prayed. Do not leave with him. He held his breath, not daring to look at Chelsea, but at the same time, wanting to hold his hand out to her, or worse – to grab her and forcibly keep her there. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing, to make things worse than they already were. He didn’t know what to do. So he kept on praying.
And then Chelsea stood. Ian’s heart leaped in his chest. He jumped to his feet and took a step towards the door. It wasn’t his place to block the door or forbid her to leave, but oh, how he wanted to.
“Greg, I want to thank you for being honest with me and with Chelsea.” He wanted to make it clear - crystal clear - that he did not believe Greg was joshing, teasing or being funny.
He looked at Chelsea. Come to me, sweetheart. You can find sanctuary here. I can help you. He prayed silently. It was up to her now. Up to her as to whether or not she could live with the truth of who Greg was and what kind of marriage they would have.
Chelsea reached out her fingers and clasped Greg’s outstretched hand. And followed him out the door.
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