by Tim LaHaye
“Your family do that?”
She shook her head. “If the chaplain was visiting. We just sort of got out of the habit.”
“Olsson’s not a chaplain, right? I mean, he has no divinity school training or anything like that?”
“Not that I know of. But he wants to be. That’s his next goal.”
“I didn’t even know he was a church kind of guy.”
“He wasn’t. That’s just it. He had quite a story. He got himself saved last year.”
“Saved?”
“That’s what he called it. He was depressed about his divorces and was drinking too much, having a bunch of one-night stands with women he never wanted to see again, especially sober. Anyway, some guy on the street was passing out leaflets about how to find a new life with God, and Olsson took one. He said the guy tried to talk to him right there, but he was too embarrassed and just kept moving. Said he got home, read it, found a Bible, looked up the verses, and got saved.”
“Saved from what?”
“His horrible life, I guess. It sounded a little severe compared to how I grew up. I mean, we went to the base churches, but we weren’t Baptists or anything. Isn’t getting saved what they always talk about?”
“Baptized, I thought,” Ray said. “But, yeah, maybe saved too.”
“Well, saved or whatever, the commander got saved. Prayed some kind of prayer and went out looking for the guy with the leaflets. Didn’t find him again until a few days later, and the guy got him connected with some church. I’m invited, by the way.”
“You don’t say.”
“Oh, yeah, and so will everybody else in ROTC, not to mention everybody else he knows. You know, Rafe, I’m not going—and I told him that and told him why—but I have to say, this is good for him. He really seems happy and persuaded, and he’s earnest about telling other people about it. He’s careful, and it finally came to me why he was so specific about how the conversation was personal and not official. I suppose he could get in trouble if he was doing this in his official capacity.”
“No doubt. So was he trying to get you saved?”
“Oh, sure. I told him I might get back to church one day, but that God and I had some deep problems because of my brother and my dad. He tried to tell me that God knew what it meant to have a family member die. That was kind of creative. But I always thought if that whole Jesus-on-the-cross thing was true, that was God’s choice, right? And He raised His Son from the dead after that. No such luck for me with my dad.
“The commander told me I should talk to God about it. I told him I had done that till I was sick of it. He said God could take it and that I should be honest with Him, tell Him I disagreed with Him, hated Him, whatever I felt. Have to admit I hadn’t heard that one before. I told him maybe I would consider religion again if I ever got married and had kids. I mean, I can’t imagine raising kids without church in their lives. It at least makes you think about being a better person.”
Ray nodded. “Can’t say I’m eager to go back though. My parents think Kitty and I go to the little church just off campus here.”
“Wayside Chapel? Why do they think that?”
“I wouldn’t lie to them. Well, maybe sometimes, a little white lie. But my mother asked me what I was doing about church. I told her Wayside was the nearest church, and she asked how I like it. I didn’t really say. I just told her, ‘Well, it’s not Central.’ That’s where they go and where I went growing up. That made her feel good about Central—”
“And about you.”
“I suppose. I just have to make sure they don’t visit on a Sunday and expect us to take them. They’d realize that no one recognizes us.”
“Why can’t you be honest with them?”
“Tell them the only time I’ve been in church was when Kitty and I were visiting them? Yeah, that’d go over big.”
Irene went to get more coffee and brought back another for Ray. “Don’t you believe honesty is the best policy?” she said.
“Is that a Bible verse?”
“Probably. I should ask Olsson.”
Ray laughed. “Honesty can get you in trouble.”
“So can dishonesty,” Irene said. “I’m getting the impression you weren’t honest with yourself tonight.”
He sat back. “Well, I wasn’t honest with Kitty; I’ll tell you that.”
“You’re seriously engaged, ring and all?”
He nodded. “Not quite sure we’re engaged, but she thinks so, and everyone else is going to. That ring’ll convince ’em.”
“You didn’t ask her, set a date, anything?”
He told the whole story.
“I kinda wondered,” she said, “what you were doing here if you just got engaged.”
“Kitty would probably wonder the same thing.”
Irene pressed her fingers to her temples. “Oh, Rafe,” she said, “you’re in deep.”
“I know.”
“Why?” she said.
“Why what?”
“Why did you let that happen? You’re clearly not ready for her. You may never be. I’ve said it before; it’s obvious you don’t even like her. Is the sex that good?”
He laughed. “It’s awful good.”
“That’s not funny. That’s not you. Well, maybe it is if you can’t even tell your parents the truth.”
“Touché,” he said.
“I’m not sparring with you, Rafe. What are you doing? I care about you as a friend, and you’re on the brink of ruining your life. How are you going to get out of this?”
“You’re recommending the truth?”
“What else? You going to make up a terminal illness? run away? commit suicide? What?”
“Those options aren’t all bad.”
Irene stood and moved to look out the window. Ray knew she could see nothing with the lights on in the center. She had to be staring at her own reflection.
“Don’t bail on me now, Irene,” he said. “I’m listening.”
“All right,” she said. “Are we friends?”
“Of course.”
“Can friends tell each other the truth?”
“You can.”
“Then listen up. Rafe, you’re an impressive guy. You’re big and athletic and good-looking and smart. You have ambition, know what you want, and know how to set about getting it. What scares you so much about telling the truth? You don’t like Kitty, and you don’t love her either. She may be a scoundrel—I don’t know her; that’s not for me to say—but regardless, she deserves to know what you think.”
“That would be ugly.”
“Of course it would, but that’s your fault! You’ve led her along! She thinks you worship her, and now she thinks you’re committed to her for life. You shouldn’t let another day go by without her knowing the truth.”
“Oh, boy.”
“You know I’m right.”
He nodded miserably. “I do.”
“What’re you going to do, Rafe?”
“Marry you, I hope.”
She laughed. “I told you; I’m not taking you on the rebound.”
“I’ll wait, do whatever I have to do.”
“Be serious.”
“I am, Irene. I really am. We’d be perfect together. You’d tell me the truth and make me do the same.”
“Talk about threatening a beautiful friendship.”
She returned and sat, and they were silent for several minutes. What was the matter with him? She was right. He had to end things with Kitty, and fast. Could he really be falling in love with Irene at the same time? Maybe that wasn’t what this was. Maybe she was just a port in a very bad storm, someone he could sail to when he did what he had to do and his life started to sink. Ray couldn’t imagine the wreckage when this all went down. Kitty would hate him. Her friends would hate him. Her families would hate him.
“It won’t be easy,” Irene said at last.
Ray sighed. “Don’t s’pose I can do this by e-mail.”
“Very funny. N
ot by phone either. Be a man, Rafe. You owe her that. You owe yourself that.”
“You’ve lost respect for me,” he said.
She didn’t say anything.
“You’re supposed to deny that, Irene. And tell me you still admire me.”
“Yeah, I know. I respect that you told me that whole ugly story, because you were honest then, even though it cast you in a pretty bad light. Fact is, you never should have let that happen tonight, and you know it.”
He reached for her hand. “I’m going to need you—as a friend—when this happens.”
“I’ll be here,” she said, but she dropped his hand. “But I’m not kidding about your waiting to start pursuing me.”
“You think I was serious about that?”
“I know you were. But I need to see some real growth, Rafe. I can’t preach honesty without being honest myself. I might love taking our friendship to another level, but not now, not with you this way. To hear you tell it, you haven’t been wholeheartedly into Kitty since you first danced with her. Everything she said or did turned you off except the way she felt when you held her on the dance floor.”
“Pretty shallow, eh?”
“You said it. And then it only got worse. She was everything you’d been raised to despise, and you just deepened the relationship, took her home, went home with her. That makes you an animal.”
“Okay, I think that’s enough truth for one night, Irene.”
“Sorry.”
“No, I deserved it.”
“So, what’re you going to do and when are you going to do it?”
He stared at the floor. “I have to allow her to save some face, don’t I?”
“If you can while still being honest.”
“I can’t tell her I hate everything about her and her values.”
“I agree. Maybe you need to tell her you’ve been deceitful though, that you’ve been faking your deepest feelings.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier for her if I could say it’s not her, it’s me? I mean, that’s true, Irene. She hasn’t been phony. She’s been what she is and always has been and will always be. I may not like it, but it’s not like she has hidden it.”
“True.”
“So why don’t I tell her that yes, I’ve been dishonest and that I’ve found someone else?”
“Honesty, Rayford. Honesty above all.”
“But it’s true.”
“Rafe!”
“I’m in love with you, Irene. Don’t look at me that way. I am. And Kitty deserves to know it.”
“Leave me out of it. You know where I stand. And how’s it going to look if you tell her you’re breaking your engagement—or whatever it is; you’re dumping her anyway—for me, and then no one sees us as a couple for a while?”
“How long are you going to make me wait?”
“A couple of months at least. And listen—I’m not interested in being your mother. I wouldn’t want a relationship where I was in charge, holding you to my standards. I want to see you become who you really are. Bold, confident, honest, knowing yourself. Not acting in ways that disappoint even you.”
“You’ve thought this through,” Ray said.
“Actually, I haven’t.”
“You’re brilliant then.”
“Well,” she said, “there is that, yes.”
He laughed. “Let me walk you to your dorm.”
She looked at her watch. “Oh, good grief, yes. Let’s get going.”
“You going to let me kiss you good night?”
“Yeah, right, while your fiancée sleeps with your ring on her finger. What do you think?”
__
Ray had trouble sleeping—not that it surprised him. What a fool he had been! And for so long. About three in the morning he rolled out of bed, tired of fighting swirling thoughts and eyes that wouldn’t stay shut. He sat on the edge of his bed, staring out the window into a darkness dotted by streetlights. He rested his elbows on his knees, his chin in his hands.
Dreading the confrontation with Kitty was one thing. He might have even been able to formulate a plan of attack and then settle into a fitful sleep. But his mind and heart were plagued by the other issue. He was in love. And not with Kitty.
When had Ray come to this conclusion? And was it real? Or was he only rebounding, as Irene had said? No, it was real. In fact, he told himself, he had not really known what love was before. He had never felt toward a woman what he felt for Irene now.
What but love could make him see her in his mind’s eye as prettier even than Kitty? No one else would likely share that view, but he didn’t care. He longed to hold her and kiss her and proclaim his love. The thought that he might even be obligated to give Kitty a farewell kiss repulsed him.
How could he have gotten himself into this mess? Had he ever truly believed he was going to spend the rest of his life with someone as shallow as Kitty Wyley? This was as much her fault though, wasn’t it? What had she seen in him in the first place? He could tell from the lean and hungry looks of the frat boys who hung around her sorority house that they were all wondering the same thing: how had this flyboy from Podunk even landed a date with a prize like her? She would land on her feet. He would tell her that.
Ray would have to leave all that out of the confrontation, whatever form it took. There could be none of the cowardly blame-me-not-you, no pretending this was about Irene. Her name couldn’t even come up. He had been a fool. Dishonest. Shallow. He had loved all the wrong things about Kitty, and she deserved better.
Some of it he had to lay on Kitty, to be wholly honest. She had jumped the gun, ordering a wedding dress, begging for a ring before he had even proposed. The question was, how much could he emphasize that their values didn’t even align? Whose fault was that? If he had a problem with her emphasis on the material, he should have raised it a long time ago. As he had told Irene, Kitty had not hidden where her values lay.
Anyway, Ray wasn’t much better. Though his affections had shifted to Irene and he loved her character, he was still consumed with becoming somebody, having things, giving her (all right, giving himself, because Irene didn’t seem to care as much) a nice house in a great neighborhood, a trophy car, and an income to afford it all. He was determined to be transparent with Irene, however, if she was serious about considering him. No more games. No more pretending. He would be more of a man of character, but he wanted what he wanted and she might as well know that up front.
Ray finally collapsed and dozed for a couple of hours at dawn. He was awakened by his phone. “What think ye of me now?” Kitty purred.
“I think we need to talk.”
“What?”
“You heard me, Kitty.”
“Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts.”
“I wouldn’t call them second thoughts. But we do need to talk.”
“Don’t do this, Ray. We’re engaged.”
“What makes us engaged? I never even proposed.”
“You bought me a ring!”
“You bought you a ring. Listen, Kitty, let’s not do this by phone. I’ll come get you.”
The line went dead.
__
By the time he had walked all the way to Kitty Wyley’s sorority house, wishing the whole way he could somehow justify having someone with him—Irene, of course—he had at least talked himself into being strong. It wouldn’t be easy. He had to own the blame for almost all of this mess, but he could not give in, would not back down. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he left Kitty with anything less than a complete severance of the relationship. Otherwise, Irene would never allow him in her future. Ray had to keep all that in the forefront of his mind, no matter how Kitty responded.
She might bargain, beg, plead. The easiest course would be to let her promise to change and give her that chance. But that wasn’t fair. Why should she change? Her values were conventional and acceptable to most. Why should he be the arbiter of her life?
Ray entered the sorority house, an
d it was clear the word had already spread. More girls than usual were up and around, and all were giving him the cold shoulder and the evil eye. He could read their thoughts. How dare you show your face? How could you have done this? You’d better come to your senses.
“I’ll tell her you’re here,” one said. “Wait in there.” She pointed to a TV room, where he and Kitty had spent a lot of time. He couldn’t help casing the place, looking for an easy exit. This was worse than waiting for a punishment from his father.
He sat, tempted to flip on the TV for something to take his mind off the tension, but that would project the wrong image. It was only fair that this at least appear as traumatic for him as for her.
But he could not match her look. In a floor-length robe, hair piled atop her head, no makeup, Kitty shut the door against the eyes of several girls just happening by. Ray had to admit she looked good in spite of it all. Of course, she had looked better. But this was what he could have awakened to for the rest of his life: someone who didn’t need an hour before the mirror to look presentable and yet would likely be prepared to invest the time.
“Hey,” he said.
Kitty nodded and sat across from him, her face streaked with tears, nose red, hands balled into fists with a raggedy tissue showing. She was not wearing the diamond.
“Okay, what?” she said.
“I’m not ready,” he said.
“Ready for what? This? I’m not going another minute without you telling me what’s going on.”
“Not ready to get married.”
“We’re not getting married, Ray. Not today. Not this month. Not next month. You’ve got a long time to prepare yourself for the wedding.”
“There’s not going to be a wedding.”
“Oh,” she whined, “don’t do this! Why? What changed your mind?”
“I never had a chance to make up my mind in the first place, Kitty. You jumped the gun. You made assumptions. You pushed me way past my comfort level.”
“You didn’t want to get married? Where did you think this relationship was going? You think I was sleeping with you for fun? Why did we talk about where we’d like to live, what kind of cars we wanted, how many kids we wanted? You can’t tell me you were thinking of a future without me in it.”
