Finally she left the house, and after walking for a time, she decided to go talk to Andrew Winslow. She knew he was not aware of his failings as a husband—as least she didn’t think so—but she knew he had a lot of experience and wisdom that might help her. And besides, he was family to her.
She went directly to the church, but the secretary, Mrs. Goodson, said, “I’m sorry, Miss Winslow, but the pastor’s gone out to the new building. It’s in the last stage, you know, and he stays there almost every day, and then half the night he spends with the contractor. Would you like to see Reverend Cole? I think he’s in.”
“No, I’ll see Brother Winslow some other time.” Priscilla left the church and went at once to the new building. It was located on highly valued property right in the middle of Los Angeles. Though the structural work was complete, workmen were still swarming all over it doing all the countless finishing jobs, outside and inside. She saw Andrew high up on a scaffold with three men and stood and watched for a while. He was gesticulating eloquently, and she could see the other two were listening as he talked. “He’s too busy now,” she murmured, so she turned and walked away.
She had dinner alone, then went back to her apartment and spent a quiet evening reading and stopping to pray for guidance from time to time. She had been impressed how many times the book of Proverbs mentioned wisdom, and she finally knelt down before she went to bed, buried her face on the bed covers, and sought God earnestly for a long time.
****
Dorothy arose early, dressed, and paused to look at Andrew, who was still sleeping soundly. He had come in after eleven and had tried to be quiet to keep from waking her. She had not been asleep, however, but had pretended to be. Even in sleep, his face was tense, and he seemed to be having a disturbing dream. One hand opened and closed spasmodically.
Leaving the bedroom, she went to the kitchen and began to fix breakfast. Soon the children were up, which meant the usual struggle to get them dressed and fed and keep them occupied.
Andrew came into the kitchen wearing his favorite robe that was so old it was patched in several places. He had two new robes that had been given to him for gifts, one of them by Dorothy herself, but he always went back to this old one. She said now as he sat down, “What would you like for breakfast?”
“Oh, eggs, I guess, and some sausage if you have any.”
“Yes, I think we have plenty.” Dorothy went about cooking the sausages, and Andrew slumped in a chair at the table and read the front page of the paper. When she brought his plate of food, he tossed the paper aside and said, “You’ve already eaten?”
“Yes, I ate with the children.”
“Well, sit down and talk to me while I eat, then.”
He began to eat and listened as Dorothy told him about the new tooth that Phillip was getting, and other small things, all of it about the children.
Andrew listened and made a few small comments. After he had finished his breakfast, he sat back and sipped his coffee. “The building is almost finished.” He saw how tired she looked and said, “You’re not as excited about it as I thought you would be.”
“It’s going to be a fine building,” Dorothy commented flatly. She did not care in the least for the building and had wished many times that the project had never been started. She saw it as the enemy that had taken her husband away from her and wrecked her family. But she dared say none of this to Andrew.
Seeing that she was indifferent, Andrew said, “You and Nolan are working on the Christmas program, aren’t you?”
“Yes, it’s well underway.”
“Does it look good?”
“Oh yes. There’s plenty of talent, and Nolan’s an excellent musician.” She went ahead briefly to describe her part in the program, which was mostly helping with the costumes and prompting for the speaking parts.
Andrew picked up another piece of toast, nibbled at it without appetite, then put it down. Shaking his head, he said, “I’ve got to go to Sacramento with the building committee. We had to spend more money than we thought, and First National here says we need to get the loan elsewhere. We’ve got too much wrapped up. I was a little surprised at Brother Parsley. I thought he could swing it for us.”
“When do you have to go, Andrew?”
“Day after tomorrow.”
He looked at her and saw her disappointment. “I won’t be gone long. Only a couple of days.” He saw her lips grow tight and suddenly felt a surge of irritation. “Dorothy, sometimes I don’t think you care anything about the church or the work we do here!”
Dorothy looked up quickly, and an answer leaped to her lips, but she knew he would never accept it. For days she had been growing more and more withdrawn. The only things she had any enthusiasm for were the children and the Christmas program. She said quietly, “I’m grateful that the church is doing well.”
“Well, why don’t you show it more, then?”
Before she could think, the bitter words she had held in for so long escaped. “Why don’t you show yourself to be more of a husband than you have, then?” She mocked his tone and got up angrily, distressed that she had spoken out so.
Andrew rose at once, caught her, and turned her around. “Why would you say a thing like that? I’ve explained a hundred times how this building project is not a thing that can be put off! It’s not something I can delegate! It’s what God has given me to do!”
“And God didn’t give you a family to take care of?”
Though there was a stinging truth in her words that Andrew had kept in the back of his mind, he shook his head and denied the charge. “We all have to make sacrifices. Do you think it’s easy on me being away from you and the children all the time?”
Suddenly Dorothy gave up. She saw that his lips were set with determination, and his eyes had that certain glint that revealed the stubbornness she knew lay deep within him. She had always admired it, because he was a man who was firm in his duty, but now she felt so far away from him that she said slowly, in a voice that was hollow and with eyes that seemed to be dead, “Andrew, I don’t feel like a wife anymore.” She turned and pulled away from him.
Andrew stood stock still for a moment and watched as Dorothy left the room. He loved his wife dearly. Yet her words were so filled with grief that he suddenly realized he could not let them stand. Quickly he moved forward and caught her as she was going toward the bedroom. “Come back and let’s talk about it, Dorothy. I can’t put off my trip to Sacramento, but as soon as I get back—”
“Oh yes, we’ll go to that little camp out on the beach. Just you and me and the children, and we’ll have time just for each other.” Dorothy saw his face color in shame. They both knew he had said this to her not once but many times.
For one moment Andrew could not speak, then he said, “Dorothy, I think you ought to see Dr. Gunn. You’re tired and run-down. Maybe he can give you a tonic.”
“What I need isn’t a tonic,” she said wearily and turned again, pulling away from his hand.
“Well, what do you want, then?” he said angrily.
Dorothy Winslow stopped and turned to him. “I want,” she said deliberately, “to have a husband who cares for me. I want a husband sitting in front of the fire with me at nights after the children have gone to bed so that I can talk to him and tell him what’s in my heart, and I want him to tell me what’s in his. I want a husband to take me to a place out on the beach where we can walk and feel the wind and the sun, and enjoy being together as a husband and wife should. I want to look out the window and see my children playing with my husband and know that they feel secure with their father.”
Andrew listened and the words cut him. “Is there anything else you want?” he asked harshly.
Dorothy looked him full in the face. “I want a husband who knows how to love me intimately—which you don’t, Andrew. You haven’t the slightest idea about what a woman needs in that way!” She waited for him to speak, but instead his face suddenly stretched with an emotion she could not ide
ntify. He turned and walked away, and she heard the door slam outside. For a moment she stood there. Then she went to her bedroom and sat down on the bed. Her mind felt numb. The scene had drawn every last resource of emotion she had left in her. She had said things to him that she never thought she would hear herself say, and now she could not feel sorrow for it, only a great sense of emptiness. It was as if her heart and mind and spirit had been removed, and there was nothing left but an empty, lonely shell. She tried to pray to her heavenly Father, but her prayers seemed to stop at the ceiling. Even God seemed to have left her alone. She wanted to cry, but no tears would come, only the ache of loneliness that never went away.
****
Andrew did not come home the day after the quarrel until late, and then he slept in the spare bedroom. The next morning he and Dorothy said nothing to each other except the bare amenities when he left for Sacramento. He stood at the front door and said in tones as stark as she had ever heard, “I’ll be back in two days. We’ll talk then.”
He had an odd expression on his face, and for one moment Dorothy thought he intended to say more. He even moved forward half a step, and her heart leaped when she thought, He’s coming to me. But then he turned and left the house without saying another word.
All that day it was cloudy, and the wind blew out of the north. The next morning Dorothy called the baby-sitter and asked her to come, but Mrs. Teague had her married children there with a house full of grandchildren and said, “Oh, I just can’t, Mrs. Winslow! I’m so sorry.”
“That’s all right, Helen,” Dorothy said. “You need to be with your family.” Finally she remembered Serena asking her more than once to bring the children out to the orange grove and let them stay for a few days. Dorothy had promised Serena that she would do that, and now she went into the living room where the children were playing and said, “You’re going to go on a little vacation with Serena and Cass. Would you like that?”
Naturally the two children were excited about a change, and for the next hour she packed up everything they would need for a three-day visit. She left the house with the children, piling their baggage into a cab. She made the trip out to the grove and found Serena ecstatic about the children’s visit.
“Are you sure they won’t be any trouble?”
“Of course they’ll be trouble, but Benjamin and Elizabeth need company, and so do Amelia and Phillip. They need to be together more,” Serena said.
“I thought I’d go into the city and work on the Christmas play full time, but I’ll come back if you want me to.”
“No, it’ll be a little rest for you. I know how it is with children.” Serena spoke calmly and obviously was pleased with the unexpected visit. “Leave them here as long as you want to. A week if you’d like.”
“No, just two or maybe three days. Andrew’s gone to Sacramento with the men on the building committee, and I thought I could get caught up on the work I need to do and take a little rest, too.”
“You do that, and don’t worry for a minute about Amelia and Phillip. They’ll have the time of their lives.”
****
The house seemed strangely lonely, and Dorothy wandered around aimlessly after returning. It was too early to go to the rehearsals for the program, so she put on her coat and went out and ate at a seafood restaurant on the beach. Afterward she walked for a while along the beach. She had her head down, mostly thinking about her life and how dissatisfying it had become. She looked up once and saw a young couple in their late teens moving toward her. They seemed to be unaware of the world. The girl was looking up into his face, and he was returning her glance. Dorothy could not help overhearing them speak as they passed, but neither gave her a nod. The girl was saying, “And after we get married . . .”
The sight of the two, which ordinarily would have been amusing, depressed Dorothy. Their obvious infatuation with each other painfully reminded Dorothy of what she longed for in her marriage. She left the beach hurriedly and went to the church. Nolan was waiting with the participants, singers, and actors who were beginning to gather for the rehearsal. He left off speaking to the young man who was directing the small orchestra they had put together and came to her.
“Hello, Dorothy,” he said. “Are you dreading this?”
“No,” she answered, taking off her coat. “Not at all. Why, are you?”
“Well, we’ve got a lot of work to do. If it comes off, I’ll be pretty well the most surprised man in California.” He smiled at her, and his eyes crinkled at the corners in a most attractive way. “Some of these kids can’t sing a lick, but they’ve got to be in the play anyway.”
“We’ll use whatever talent we have,” she smiled. “It’ll be a good experience for them.”
Both of them threw themselves into the rehearsal. It was rough at times and would require a few extra rehearsals. Dorothy admired Nolan’s energy and the way he had of encouraging people. She wished Andrew could be like that. When the rehearsal was over, Nolan drove several people home, including Dorothy.
“You’d better get a good night’s sleep. It’ll be another hard rehearsal tomorrow,” Nolan said as she got out of the car.
“Thanks for the ride, Nolan.”
The next day Dorothy got up early and did a little housecleaning. She felt a twinge of loneliness with the children gone that she had not anticipated, so she went out and did a little shopping to fill the time. She was actually glad when the time for rehearsal came for the Christmas program.
Dorothy lost herself in the work, and when it was over, she got into the car with Nolan and two of the workers, a young man and a middle-aged woman, Mrs. Wofford. After they had dropped Mrs. Wofford off at her home, Dorothy found herself chatting with Charlie Boyington, who directed the music. “Are you happy with that third number, the one about the star?”
Boyington spoke eagerly about the play until Nolan pulled up in front of his house. He got out, saying, “Good night, sir. Good night, Mrs. Winslow.”
Nolan pulled away from the curb and looked across at Dorothy. “Are you as tired as I am?”
“I don’t think so,” she said. “I like all the activity, and they’re so anxious. It’s one of the church programs I think is worthwhile. I enjoy putting our lives into the young people and the children.”
Nolan turned to his left, and Dorothy said in surprise, “This isn’t the way to the parsonage.”
“I’ve got your Christmas present, and I can’t wait until Christmas to give it to you. I’ll just run out to my place and get it.”
“What is it?” Dorothy asked.
“No fair asking, and no use, either.”
Nolan seemed extremely happy, and Dorothy smiled at the liveliness in him that she always admired. She sat there quietly as he drove out to his small house on the beach. She had been there before with other members of the youth group for a meeting and had admired his taste. It was only a small cottage, but it was decorated in a fashion that pleased her, with seashells and nets, and a mounted sailfish that Nolan had caught himself.
Pulling up in front of the house, Nolan shut off the engine, then immediately said, “Why did I do that?” He shook his head in disgust. “Now I’ll just have to crank this thing again!” He got out of the car, calling, “I’ll be right back.”
Dorothy sat in the car and watched as he ran up to the front door. He unlocked it, disappeared, then almost at once was back. He ran back to the car and held up a gaily wrapped package with a green ribbon. He leaned in on the driver’s side, put the present down, and said sternly, “Now, don’t touch that until I get back in! You can open it on the way back to your house!” He reached in and set the spark, then moved to the front of the automobile. Dorothy watched as he spun the engine and it didn’t catch. She heard him muttering to himself, and he tried twice more. Finally he came back and made an adjustment to the controls on the steering wheel and shook his head. “Someday they’ll invent something to get these things started without all this nonsense!”
Dorothy
shook her head in sympathy, and although it was dark, a bright moon bathed the beach in silver beams. She saw him bend over, heard him grunt, and then suddenly there was a high-pitched whine. But more than this, she heard Nolan cry out with pain.
“Nolan, what is it?” she cried. There was no answer, and she could not see him. Fear gripped her heart. She knew cranks were dangerous things. She had heard how people had broken their arms when the crank caught. It had such power that it could spin around and break the forearm of the person if they weren’t careful.
Dorothy ran around to the front of the car, and her heart seemed to skip a beat as she saw Nolan lying sprawled on his back with blood on his face. He lay so still that she thought, with a sudden frantic fear, he was dead. When she ran and knelt beside him, she saw that he was breathing heavily and his eyelids were fluttering.
“Nolan, are you all right—?”
She pulled his head up and saw blood flowing down over his right eye onto his cheek, and there were spatters of it on the light gray coat that he wore. The crank must have somehow flown out and caught him in the temple.
Nolan began to stir, and his eyes fluttered again.
Dorothy leaned forward and heard him saying, “What’s—” He reached up and touched the cut, and his hand came away with blood on it.
“Nolan, I’ve got to go get some help—a doctor.”
He slowly opened his eyes more and his mind seemed to clear a little better. “No,” he protested and struggled to a sitting position. He touched his head again, saw the blood, then said, “I don’t know what happened. The crank came flying out, and I guess the tip of it caught me across the head.”
“I’ve got to get a doctor for you,” Dorothy insisted.
“There’s not one closer than five miles, and he’s asleep. Let me up. I think I’m all right.”
Dorothy saw that he was still a bit befuddled, and his legs were unsteady.
She helped him up, and he grabbed her shoulders, muttering, “The whole world’s spinning around.”
The Silver Star Page 28
