Anointest My Head With Oil

by Debbie Viguié

  But he knew how he would feel if some police officer told him that there may or may not be someone interested in his children and possibly wishing to harm them. He’d go out of his mind with worry. No, he had decided that until he had proof that there was some actual danger he couldn’t put them through that.

  Today Darren’s school had let out early and the boy was at the nursing home where his adoptive mom worked as an RN. Outgoing and friendly, Darren always seemed to be a big hit with the residents. He talked with them, played games with them, and generally lifted them out of their daily drudgery.

  At that moment Darren was outside playing chess with one of the old women. Mark had seen the two of them doing so half a dozen times. He sat in his car across the street, watching them. Not Paul had voiced his hatred for chess a couple of times to him. His son, though, seemed a natural at the game. The old woman was no slouch herself, and clearly enjoyed the boy’s enthusiasm. Looking at the two of them together and how they interacted it would be easy to mistake them for grandmother and grandson.

  His phone rang and he answered. “Hello.”

  “Hey,” Liam said. “You should probably get back here.”

  “What’s going on?” Mark asked.

  “There was another fire. No property damage this time.”

  “Has Jim said whether he thinks it’s arson?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Okay, then what’s the rush?”

  “Our friends were involved.”

  Mark closed his eyes and slammed his head back against his seat. He had known the quiet spell they’d been having since the Mother’s Day fiasco was a fluke. He’d just been enjoying the lull where his personal life and his professional life were mostly separate.

  “Which friends in particular?”

  “Do you really have to ask?”

  Mark could hear the sarcasm in Liam’s voice. He started the car.

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  ~

  Jeremiah and Rabbi Kravitz were sitting in Jeremiah’s office talking. Kravitz had just finished telling him about the fire that destroyed his synagogue.

  “I’m very sorry, Rabbi,” Jeremiah said. “Is there anything we can do to help?”

  “As a matter of fact, that is why I am here,” the older man said.

  Jeremiah nodded, encouraging him to speak.

  “We need somewhere to have our Hanukkah services.”

  “We’d be happy to have members of your congregation join us, but I should warn you, we are not an orthodox synagogue.”

  “So, I can see,” Kravitz said, his lips twisting in a slight smile. “No, you misunderstand me. We do not wish to join your services. We are merely looking for a place where we can hold ours.”

  “If you want a dedicated space that you can take over for the holiday the church next door has some very large meeting rooms that I know they’d be willing to let you use.”

  “No. No churches. We will only meet in a synagogue.”

  Jeremiah had a great deal of sympathy for the rabbi’s plight, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that it would be a bad idea to allow him and his congregation to meet at Jeremiah’s synagogue.

  He knew what Marie would say, though. The look she’d given him earlier told him all he needed to know. She was a tough woman and could sometimes be cold and disapproving but she always made room for anyone at her table. She would expect no less of him and their synagogue.

  “I am sure we can work something out,” he said, forcing himself to smile as he said it.

  ~

  “Earth to Cindy, come in, Cindy.”

  Cindy looked away from her computer screen and turned to see Geanie waving at her.

  “I’m sorry, what?” Cindy asked.

  “Where have you been for like the last five minutes?”

  Cindy grimaced. “I was reading over a list of questions Rabbi Ezra sent. He wants Jeremiah and I to answer them before our next meeting.”

  “Okay, so why are you making that face?”

  “It’s a long list and some of the questions are hard.”

  “Okay. And?”

  “And he said we weren’t prepared for marriage.”

  Geanie burst out laughing. “No one is ever prepared for marriage. And anyone who thinks otherwise is just crazy.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really. It’s not like having a boyfriend or a best friend or a roommate. It’s an entirely different animal. Joseph and I were so not prepared. Our first disagreement we both cried uncontrollably because we thought we were fighting and that was the end of everything.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Wish I was, but it’s true.”

  “What on earth were you disagreeing over?”

  “Canned green beans or fresh.”

  “Okay, that’s got to be a joke.”

  “Nope. We each picked a side, dug in, and it felt like World War III was happening.”

  “How did it end?”

  “Oh, it didn’t. At least we both see it as funny now. And whoever cooks gets their way.”

  “Isn’t that usually Joseph?”

  “Yes, but he usually ends up making me a can of green beans anyway.”

  “Well, at least your disagreement was over something trivial,” Cindy said.

  “Trust me, it did not feel that way at the time. I think I even called him a snobby rich brat.”

  “Ouch. Bet he loved that.”

  “You know it. But we’ve had more serious disagreements since then and survived. The key is committing to working it out, no matter how much you want to throttle the other person instead. I made Joseph a sacred promise never to leave him, but I never promised that I wouldn’t kill him.”

  Cindy shook her head. “You guys are too cute.”

  “It’s a skill. So, what kind of questions?”

  “Some of them I guess are kind of predictable like are we going to get a joint checking account. Then he asks stuff like what temperature are we going to set the thermostat at during winter and summer.”

  “Ooh, that’s a big one, trust me,” Geanie said. “My parents had that fight and my dad lost. Now he wears sweaters in the house regardless of the time of year.”

  Sylvia, the business manager, exited her office and regarded both of them calmly. “Now is the time to seize all the ground that you can because once you’re married he’ll be far less willing to budge on anything. Trust me.”

  “Thanks,” Cindy said, feeling a bit sheepish. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was talking so loudly.”

  “You weren’t. I was eavesdropping,” the other woman said matter-of-factly.

  “Oh,” Cindy said, not sure how else to respond.

  Sylvia sat down in the chair in front of Cindy’s desk with a sigh. “Ladies, we are about to be invaded.”

  “By who?” Geanie asked.

  “God’s chosen people as luck would have it. We’re going to be hosting a Jewish congregation whose synagogue was destroyed in a fire a couple of months ago. They’ve taken turns meeting out of people’s homes, but they needed somewhere larger for their Hanukkah services.”

  “Okay, where are we putting them?” Cindy asked.

  Sylvia grimaced. “I need you to clear the Fireside Room for the entire eight days.”

  Cindy was stunned. “Do you realize how many groups we’re going to be displacing?”

  “I know, it’s our most popular meeting space. Tell people that in the spirit of hospitality, the coming holidays, you know.”

  “That might work for some of them, but others are going to balk.”

  “Then tell them tough toenails. If they don’t like it they can complain to the interim pastor.”

  “Nathan? They’ll eat him alive,” Geanie said.

  She was right. Their interim pastor was sweet, quiet, a true lamb among wolves. And he’d have been eaten just as quickly if the rest of them hadn’t been work
ing to insulate him from the daily brouhahas of the church.

  “We’ve all been coddling him, but if he really wants to make pastoring his career sooner or later he has to step up. Think of it this way, if they break him then he’s young enough to pick another career and only have lost a couple of years.”

  Cindy bit her lip. Geanie looked like she was about to have some sort of fit although of what sort Cindy couldn’t tell. The other woman barely managed to hold it in.

  “Stop making faces. Try to think positively. It could be the making of him. Heck, there are times in my life where things would have gone better if I’d just jumped into the deep end of the pool instead of fussing around in the shallows.”

  “Oh, we’re thinking positively,” Geanie said in a slightly strangled voice.

  Positively thinking that he’s going to end up in the fetal position on the floor, Cindy thought.

  Sylvia rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything since the front door opened at that moment. They all turned to see who it was.

  Dave, the youth pastor, came walking in. His divorce had been finalized a couple of weeks before and while he still didn’t look good at least he’d put on a few pounds. There for a while Cindy could have sworn he’d forgotten to eat and he’d ended up so skinny that his clothes hung off him.

  “Why are you all looking at me like that?” he asked as he came to an abrupt halt.

  “Dave, you’re a pastor,” Sylvia began.

  “Thanks for noticing,” he said, looking at each of them with suspicion.

  “We were discussing how it might be time to stop sheltering Nathan.”

  “Oh dear heavens, do you want to kill the man?” Dave asked in open disbelief. “You know how people can get, especially this time of year. Couldn’t we wait until January where there’s nothing going on and everyone’s quiet mostly? I mean, why does it have to be now?”

  Cindy cleared her throat. “We’re hosting a Jewish congregation for all eight days of Hanukkah.”

  “Mazel tov to all of us.”

  “In the Fireside Room.”

  “Oh crap,” Dave said.

  “Yeah,” Geanie said.

  Dave passed a hand over his face. “This is going to get ugly. Bloody even.”

  “We know,” Sylvia said.

  Dave shook his head slowly. “We can’t lay it on Nathan, not if we don’t want to spend Christmas looking for a new new interim pastor.”

  “What other option do we have?” Sylvia asked.

  “Me. I’ll take the heat,” Dave said.

  Cindy blinked in surprise. “Why? It’s not your job,” she blurted out.

  “Well, as Sylvia here already pointed out I am a pastor, even if people are dismissive of that because the word “youth” is in front of it. Everyone knows that I just got divorced and hopefully they’ll decide to take pity and give me a break because of that.”

  “And if not?” Geanie asked.

  “Then I will immediately burst into tears in the most manly way possible, thus ending the conversation,” Dave said.

  “You sure?” Sylvia asked.

  “Yeah, but someone’s going to owe me bigtime for this.”

  “Great, now we just have to notify all the group leaders about the change and find places to shuffle everyone to. That should be fun.”

  “How long is that going to take to notify everyone?” Dave asked.

  “Not as long as you think,” Geanie said sarcastically.

  The front door flew open and Jesse Raybourne, the head of the women’s ministry, stormed in. “What is this I hear about us being forced out of the Fireside Room?” she demanded.

  Right on cue Dave burst into tears.

  4

  “He didn’t!” Traci exclaimed.

  “He did! He just stood there crying so hard snot started coming out his nose! She freaked out and apologized to him and told him that she’d take care of anyone else who wanted to complain about the room reassignment,” Cindy said, recounting what had happened.

  “Then what?”

  “As soon as she left Dave stopped crying instantly. And he said, ‘That ought to take care of things’.”

  “The big faker!” Traci shrieked.

  “I know. It was awesome,” Cindy said laughing. She picked up her hot tea and took a swig. “Thanks for having me over for tea.”

  “Thanks for coming,” Traci said brightly.

  Traci had called and asked her over that morning and she’d said yes. She’d found the request a little peculiar, but she knew that with the twins it was harder for Traci to do lunch or other activities outside the house. It was all good. They hadn’t gotten to really talk in a few weeks so it was nice to catch up.

  Cindy took another sip of her tea. “I’ve been meaning to ask, how’s Lizzie doing?”

  Lizzie was Traci’s younger sister who had practiced Wicca until she was pulled into a witch coven a little over a year before.

  “Better, I think. You know there for a few months she was pretty much not talking to anybody in the family. I think she was too upset and embarrassed. I know she’s been in therapy and it seems to be helping.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Yeah, she and I even talked about getting together for lunch soon.”

  “I know what she went through has been hard on her,” Cindy said.

  “On all of us,” Traci said. “Actually, that pretty much describes everything all of us have been through for the last couple of years. Hard.”

  Cindy reached out and grabbed her hand. “But I’ve made the best friends I’ve ever had in my life.”

  “Me, too,” Traci said, smiling and squeezing her hand.

  “Speaking of, I’d like to officially ask if you’d be one of my bridesmaids.”

  “Oh, Cindy, just try to stop me from being one,” Traci said. She laughed and a moment later they were both laughing and hugging.

  “I love you,” Cindy said impulsively.

  “I love you, too.”

  Traci let go of her and wiped at her eyes. “I do have two conditions, though.”

  “Which are?” Cindy asked.

  “No hideous bridesmaid dresses.”

  “I promise we will all go shopping together and find great dresses.”

  “Good.”

  “What’s the second condition?” Cindy asked.

  Traci suddenly dropped her eyes and stopped smiling. The change in demeanor took Cindy aback and she found herself suddenly worried about what the other woman was about to say.

  Finally, unable to stand the suspense anymore she blurted out, “Are you okay?”

  When Traci looked up Cindy could see the tears in her eyes. She didn’t know what was causing them, but her heart ached for her.

  “Have you ever realized that you’ve been wrong about something. I mean, really wrong, for a long time? And then once you realized it you didn’t know how to make it right or what it’s going to mean if you do?”

  Cindy stared at her, wishing her friend would just come out and tell her what was wrong. This must be why she’d called to ask her over. Clearly Traci was struggling with something and all she could think to do at that moment was answer her question as honestly as possible.

  “When my sister died, I shut myself away from the world. I became obsessed with the idea of being safe and I stopped doing basic, normal things if I felt the least little bit uncomfortable. Then there was the dead body in the church and the serial killer and…”

  “Jeremiah?” Traci asked.

  “Yes. And none of those things were safe, least of all Jeremiah,” Cindy said. “But I learned that being safe wasn’t what was important because no one ever is safe, not really. What was important was really living, being present in my own life, and finding friends I enjoyed and things I liked to do. It took a long time to crawl out of the hole I’d dug for myself, but my friends were there for me.” She paused and looked Traci in the eyes. “And now I’m
here for you.”

  “What happened to your sister? I know she died, but you never talk about it.”

  Cindy sat very still. She didn’t talk about it. She never talked about it. She’d never told anyone about it. Not really. She didn’t want to now, but Traci was in pain, and if knowing would somehow help her, then how could she deny her that? She closed her eyes for a moment and whispered a prayer for strength. The image that came to her a moment later was of her and Geanie going through Lisa’s jewelry box for the first time since Cindy had rescued it from Lisa’s room. She had dreaded that experience and it had been cathartic, wonderful even. She thought of Lisa’s Titanic blue heart necklace that she’d be wearing when she walked down the aisle to meet Jeremiah.

  She opened her eyes. “Every summer we went camping as a family. It would be a week of fun and laughter and games and junk food and lots and lots of swimming. The five of us would just ignore the rest of the world and focus on each other and on having fun.

  “Lisa was the oldest and she was always the most adventurous. She did everything, went everywhere. If there was a mountain she hiked it. If there were rapids, she’d shoot them. She even went down the rapids in the river on one of those two-dollar air mattresses once. The thing was torn and completely deflated once she came out the other side. She smacked her elbow and bruised her hip, but she loved every minute of it. Wherever she went Kyle wanted to go, too, but sometimes mom would stop him because he wasn’t old enough or big enough or strong enough. He tried, though. He worshipped Lisa.

  “And I was freaked out by her. I wasn’t the daredevil she was and she always tried to push me, make me do things more like her. I usually stood my ground, but not always.

  “The swimming hole where we’d go camping was deep in most parts and it was filled with rocks and fish and it was like a wonderland to a bunch of kids. There was a big rock in the middle of the river and Kyle would climb up on it and declare himself king of the mountain. It would take Lisa two seconds to knock him off or throw him off, but he kept trying.”

  The memories hurt, but she still felt herself smile a little as she remembered Lisa body slamming Kyle into the water on one occasion while she watched from the shallows and laughed at the splash they made. Those had been good times, fun times. She had lost them and that was what hurt most of all right then.