by Arlene James
Scott instantly rose and began unhooking his DVD player from Piper’s TV. Mitch helped Piper gather up the cups and saucers and sweep away the cookie crumbs from the top of the coffee table, intending to stall until the Ninevers had gone, but after stacking the cups in Piper’s tiny dishwasher, he returned from the kitchen to find them still standing around the door, their electronic gear in hand.
“Listen, Mitch,” Scott said, “how’d you like to hang out at the arboretum with us tomorrow? We go there on Sundays sometimes, me and Lissa and Piper.”
Piper smiled and lifted an eyebrow inquiringly. Mitch tucked his thumbs into his back pockets, considering.
“Tell you what, you three join me at church tomorrow morning, then we’ll spend the afternoon at the arboretum together, and lunch will be on me. What do you say?”
Scott shrugged and looked at Melissa, who looked at Piper. Mitch looked at Piper, too, noting her sudden pallor, but then she smiled and nodded, and he wondered if he was imagining it. Maybe she was just tired.
“Okay,” Melissa said, “why not?”
Mitch grinned. “Great! There are two morning services. We can do the later one. Why don’t I drop by about ten-fifteen and pick up everybody? Won’t have to bother with directions then.”
“Is it far?” Melissa asked.
“Quite close, actually—mile, mile and a half, maybe.”
“So do I, like, have to wear a suit?” Scott wanted to know.
Mitch shook his head, trying not to smile. “The late service is the contemporary one. All the suits will be at the first. Well, nearly all.”
“Cool.”
Mitch brought his hands together in front of him. “Okay. So I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Scott took the hint and finally headed out the door.
“We’ll come down in the morning, Piper. Be here before Mitch,” Melissa said.
“Sounds good.”
“I don’t suppose you’ve got any more of those cookies for munching at the arboretum?” Scott wanted to know.
Piper laughed. “Sorry. You cleaned me out. I’ll bake some more this week.”
“Dude, those things are yum,” he declared, rubbing his amazingly still flat middle.
“Thanks. Good night.”
“Night.”
She closed the door behind them and looked at Mitch.
“Dude,” he said, mimicking Scott’s inflection, and reached for her, and she laughingly came into his arms, locking her hands just above his waistband in the back. He let his own hands slide lightly across her back.
“You were sweet to put up with them all evening,” she said.
“No, no. I like them. They’re a fun young couple, and they obviously care about you. That’s enough for me.”
“Mitch,” she said, suddenly reticent. She brushed a hand across his shoulder.
“What is it, honey?”
She tilted her head. “I—I don’t think they’ve had much experience with church.”
“Not everyone’s as blessed as we are.”
She shot him a surprised, somewhat troubled look.
“We both have parents who saw to it that we would have lifelong experience with church,” he explained.
She smiled then. “You’re right.”
If her smile lacked its usual luster, well, he told himself, she was definitely tired. A person could stand only so much fun in a single day.
“I’d better go, let you get some rest.”
She nodded and leaned into him, turning her face up, her arms folded between them. He took that as a sign that he should keep it brief, which he did, indulging himself in the sweetness of her lips only for a moment before pulling away and lightly kissing her forehead.
“See you tomorrow.”
She nodded and smiled as he went through the door, closing it gently behind him.
The action around the pool had waned somewhat, but a fire had been lit in one of the braziers placed at intervals around the deck. Several people clustered around it as music blared from speakers in the potted trees at each corner of the courtyard. Someone called out a farewell, and Mitch lifted a hand in acknowledgment.
They were a friendly bunch, perfectly nice, and several of them he wouldn’t mind knowing better, including the Ninevers. But somehow it felt wrong to be leaving Piper here with them, even if she was tucked safely inside her apartment. He couldn’t help noting it had all the warmth and personality of the average hotel room.
He told himself that it was too soon to be feeling so proprietary where she was concerned, but he was hung on the notion that she really ought to be going home with him. He prayed that was more than his own neediness and impatience speaking.
Piper looked up at the tall tan brick building with its steep roof and modernistic spire reminiscent of a ship’s long prow and chided herself for the umpteenth time. Honestly, this quivering in the pit of her belly was pure nonsense! How many times in her life had she walked into a strange church?
She couldn’t begin to count the number of places to which she had accompanied her father on speaking engagements, let alone those churches she had attended for a simple Sunday service. It was true that in recent years she’d regularly attended the same “home” church in Houston, but she’d still managed to accompany her parents—who kept busy schedules despite their retirement from the mission field—several times a year, as her work had permitted. A new church was nothing “new” to her, for pity’s sake, so why this gut-wrenching, heart-palpitating dread?
As if sensing her turmoil, Mitchell slipped an arm about her shoulders, the comforting weight of it jogging up and down as they walked side by side toward the elaborately carved front door. Easily ten feet tall and four inches thick, the heavy portal nonetheless swung effortlessly out as he gently tugged the twisted, wrought-iron handle.
The low, familiar hum of people talking enveloped them as they entered the posh foyer, and almost at once a friendly hand came their way, offered by an official greeter with an “Ask Me Anything” button pinned to the lapel of his sports jacket. Mitch greeted the man by name and made the first of many introductions.
“These are my friends, Piper Wynne and Scott and Melissa Ninever.”
“We’re glad to have you with us this morning,” the fellow said heartily, shaking each hand and repeating the names in turn. Then the thing that Piper dreaded most came about as he turned back to her, the gleam of speculation in his friendly gaze. “Wynne, that’s a mighty familiar name. How do you spell that?”
Before she could answer, Mitch slapped his church brother on the shoulder and said, “If you’re thinking Ransome and Charlotte, you’re on the right track.”
“Any relation?”
Piper made an effort to smile rather than cringe. “They’re my parents.”
“Wow!” the man exclaimed. “I’ve read all of your father’s books.” Thankfully, others crowded in behind them just then, and he was forced to let them go.
Piper glanced uneasily at Scott and Melissa and saw the curiosity in their eyes. Sighing inwardly, she allowed Mitch to usher her deeper into the wide, arcing foyer with its dense plum-colored carpet.
“Mitch,” she whispered, prompting him to bend his head to hers solicitously, “I’d rather you didn’t mention my parents.”
“Oh? Can I ask why, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart? she thought, trying not to be distracted by that casual endearment. “It’s just that it sort of leaves the Ninevers out of it.”
“I’m not sure I follow.”
“I don’t want Scott and Melissa thinking I’m more welcome than they are just because of my family.”
“You’re right. That wouldn’t do. Still, you must realize that ninety percent of the people in this building will make the connection on the strength of your surname alone.”
She sighed. “I know.”
He gave her a measuring look. Henceforth, however, he made every effort to deflect speculation, even introducing her simply as Piper. Nevertheles
s, by the end of the service, the news had spread.
A slim, attractive, middle-aged woman bustled up to Piper just as she was stepping into the aisle and gushed, “I attended a women’s retreat where your mother was the guest speaker. Such an interesting life you’ve led! Could we entice you to speak to our women’s mission group?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I leave that sort of thing to my parents,” Piper said, very uncomfortable.
“Piper’s a nurse,” Mitch added helpfully.
“Really?” the woman persisted. “In what mission field?”
“I’m not in mission work. Actually, I’m in managed care right now.”
“Ah.”
That single syllable contained all the confusion, surprise and, she imagined, disapproval that Piper had come to expect. Why was it, she wondered, that she was presumed to have a calling just because her parents had? Her brother had often fought the same assumption, but then a year after college he had entered seminary. She couldn’t help wondering if everything might have been different if he’d resisted the expectations of others.
She shook her head. Gordon was a wonderful pastor, and even now he was plagued by those who continually expected him to surrender to foreign mission work, when it was clearly not what he was meant to do.
“Maybe later, Caroline,” Mitch said, and Piper realized that the woman had been speaking, presumably to her.
“I’m sorry. What were you saying?”
“I thought you might want to join our mission group,” the woman, Caroline, offered, not unkindly.
“Oh, ah, Mitch is right. I haven’t made a decision about a local church yet, but thank you for the invitation. I’ll certainly keep it in mind.”
The woman looked past Piper to Melissa then. “What about you?”
Melissa glanced at Piper. “I’m not even sure what a mission group is.”
To her credit, the woman whom Mitch had called Caroline began a patient and thorough explanation of the group’s purpose. Melissa shot a look of surprised interest at Scott when Caroline mentioned sending shoes and Christmas presents to underprivileged children in South America, as well as numerous other local projects.
“I, uh, I’ll have to think about it,” Melissa said, and Piper could tell by her tone that she meant it.
Piper glanced at Mitch, sure that they would be sharing the same pleased speculation about Melissa’s interest in the group, only to find Mitch studying her with a faintly troubled expression. She figured she knew what that was about, so she ducked her head and tried not to think that she had disappointed him somehow. Had he expected her to declare a sudden vocation for exotic foreign fields? Or had the notion that she might be headed in that direction only just occurred to him?
The woman named Caroline moved off, and Mitch guided Piper into the aisle, turning toward the foyer. The resemblance between this church sanctuary and the auditorium of the symphony center downtown struck her suddenly. True, the church was built on a smaller scale, but it was every bit as opulent as the Meyerson. She said as much to Mitch, glad for a “safe” subject for discussion. She felt the weight of his hands rest lightly on the tops of her shoulders as they caught up with the exiting crowd, and he connected the dots for her.
“We used the same architect. Several on the symphony board are members here, too, including my mom.”
“Ah.”
He chuckled. “You thought I was kidding about her hoping she’d get a classical musician out of me, didn’t you?”
She put her head back and looked up at him. “I didn’t get the sense that she was disappointed in you in any way.”
“I’m very blessed,” he said, and that he could think so after the way he’d lost his wife seemed harshly significant to Piper. She lifted her head and gulped, aware that her faith couldn’t hold a candle to his.
Always the disappointment, she told herself, once more sick at heart.
They picked up sandwiches at a deli that Mitch liked, probably because they piled on the jalapeños and banana peppers as if they were relish, then stopped by the apartment so the girls could change out of their Sunday clothes. Mitch and Scott were content in their chinos and jeans, respectively, and Scott stayed downstairs chatting with Mitch while Melissa ran up to their place. When Piper came back into the living area wearing jeans and a lightweight, V-necked, turquoise-blue sweater, the two men were deep in conversation.
“Man, I never thought of it that way,” Scott was saying. He swept a hand through his shaggy hair. “And it’s just a matter of accepting that publicly?”
“Or privately,” Mitch said, “depending on your personal convictions. For myself, I don’t believe a person can privately accept Christ without it becoming public through personal behavior.”
Scott nodded thoughtfully at that. “You know, a lot of it’s what Melissa and I have always believed, that you’re supposed to love your fellow man and do right by him.”
“I think that’s a God-given impulse, Scott,” Mitch told him. “The problem comes when our earthly impulses get in the way of our godly ones.”
“And that’s what repentance is about,” Scott murmured.
Mitch let that notion simmer in silence for a moment before he turned to Piper. “Wow, that color’s really good on you.”
“Thanks.”
“Ready to go?”
“When everyone else is.”
Scott was still mulling over his conversation with Mitch. Piper and Mitch exchanged a knowing look. His gentle smile was full of hope. Piper felt her heart swell. Leave it to Mitch to find a way. The Ninevers were her friends, but he was the one who seemed able to reach out to them in the most important matter.
Melissa tapped at the door and stuck her head in. They were off in a moment, piling into Mitch’s car with their picnic lunch and a tie-dyed blanket that Melissa had brought. The mood was gay but strangely serene, as if peace had found them all at the same time.
That feeling deepened for Piper as the afternoon wore on. It was something about this place, she decided. It was a true Eden for her, where all the worries of the outside world were held at bay. Later, when Mitch dropped them all off at the apartment house, he suggested that they follow the same plan the next Sunday. The Ninevers endorsed the idea soundly. Piper went away feeling that she might have found a haven for her troubled soul.
Chapter Ten
Piper noticed that many of the trees were ablaze with autumn color. One half-decent freeze would denude the branches entirely. That time couldn’t be far off now, she told herself, strolling silently through the arboretum at Mitch’s side. They had left the Ninevers all but dozing on the blanket after devouring a massive lunch that Mitch had ordered specially catered for them.
“I’m sorry about this morning,” Mitch said suddenly. “When my mother heard, she…well, I told her last Sunday evening, but I guess my explanation about the Ninevers didn’t make a lot of sense, after the fact.”
Piper sighed. The pastor had actually announced from the pulpit that the congregation had a special guest in their midst. Piper had felt her face burn hot at the mention of her name. A lengthy tribute to her parents had followed. It was just the sort of thing that they would have hated, but she couldn’t help a small lurch of pride as their many accomplishments were listed in glowing terms. That had been swiftly followed by a stab of regret so profound that it had taken her breath. Here in the peaceful sanctuary of the arboretum, however, she could be a little more sanguine.
“I suppose it was bound to happen sooner or later,” she told Mitch. “Dad would be horrified, though. He really tries to keep the focus where it belongs.”
“I can believe that.”
“The problem is, they’re just what you think they are.”
“Giants of faith,” he said, and she nodded.
“It must be difficult when your parents are as well-known in ministry as yours are.”
Piper shrugged, secretly pleased that he had divined much of the problem. “It’s called the ‘PK phe
nom.’”
“PK?”
“Preacher’s kids. We’re held to a different standard than others.”
“I hadn’t thought about it before, but I guess that must be so.”
“Believe me, it is.” She looked down at the well-mulched path they were treading and added unthinkingly, “I can’t tell you what that’s meant to my brother.”
“How so?”
She looked away, unable to speak of it, unable to speak at all for a moment. Finally she managed to say, “The expectations have just weighed far more heavily on him than on me, that’s all.”
“It’s not a lot different for lawyers, when you think about it,” Mitch said after a moment. “I mean, everyone assumed that because Dad was in law I would naturally go into it, too.”
“Is that why you did?”
“No. I believe I’m called to it. I believe we’re all called to something. I think that’s probably why you became a nurse.”
Piper bit her lip. Another failure, then, if that were true.
“I think I must have got it wrong,” she said, trying to make it sound like a joke. “I think I must have been called to something else.” Like messing up.
“What makes you say that?”
She shook her head. “Oh, nothing.”
“If this is about your job,” he began, but she couldn’t allow him to pursue that subject much further. She didn’t want to get into why she’d left a hands-on practice, a subject she had studiously avoided during their shared lunchtimes during the past week.
“Come on,” she said, slipping her arm through his, “it’s too beautiful a day to be talking about anything as unimportant as my job.” With that she jogged ahead, giving him a tug.
He joined in, and they ran, laughing and tussling, all the way to the fountains at the back of the park, where they plopped down on a rock as big as a bench. Mitch straddled it, and she sat on the end with her back to his chest, his arms looped about her. For some time they sat there listening to the water spill, then they got up to wander along to the giant wind chimes, which they played like two kids, trying to make some recognizable tune with the thick, long tubes hanging from a crossbeam.
