The Widow's Choice

by Gilbert, Morris

  Pastor Sandifer cleared his throat. “I would entertain a motion, and I think you know what I would like that motion to be.”

  Oscar stood up immediately. “We would all like to be compassionate, but I feel that we’re setting a precedent here. If we allow this unspeakable sin to go without any action, what would be the result? It would encourage other wrongdoers to do the same. I move that the name of Leland Short be removed from the roles of the First Baptist Church.”

  The motion got a second from Allen Grimes.

  “The motion is made and is seconded and now is open for discussion,” the pastor said heavily.

  There was much discussion, with several people speaking in favor of excluding Leland from the church. Others were dead set against it. Alona hesitated to speak out because of Oscar’s strong views, but she finally could no longer remain silent. “Brother Byron, I would like to speak for Brother Leland and for his wife and family.”

  Oscar swiveled around, and his mouth dropped open in astonishment. His face grew flushed, and he set his lips in a stubborn line, but Alona was past caring.

  “The Bible seems to be very clear about one thing,” she said. “That forgiveness is a part of being a Christian. I can’t help but think of the woman taken in adultery, and Jesus said, ‘He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.’ I am not without sin.” She paused and took the time to catch several of the members by the eye. “Maybe some of you feel that you are, but as for me, I can’t belong to a church that doesn’t have a forgiving spirit.”

  Alona walked to the front pew and embraced Mary Beth, who was crying. She released her and said, “Brother Leland, I know the Lord has forgiven you, and I can’t do any less.”

  Alona was shocked when people from all over the church suddenly came out of their pews. She stepped back as the Shorts were enveloped by a crowd of men and women all trying to put their arms around them. She moved back and looked up at Byron, who was smiling at her with tears in his eyes.

  A man spoke up from the crowd. “Take the vote, Preacher.”

  Immediately Byron Sandifer said, “Those in favor of removing Leland Short’s name, raise your hand.”

  Alona looked straight at Oscar, who raised his hand, but she saw that he had little support. No more than half a dozen hands were up, most of them raised very tentatively and then lowered.

  “Those in favor of letting Leland stay, let it be known by saying amen.”

  A rousing cry of amens filled the sanctuary. “The Lord’s will has been done tonight,” the pastor declared. “Tonight I think we have seen God’s mercy in action.”

  * * *

  “You are not loyal to me!” Oscar shouted. He had barely waited to get alone with Alona before he had started in on her, his face red. “A woman should stand beside her husband!”

  “I couldn’t stand with you on this because I thought you were wrong, Oscar. The church thought so too. Didn’t you see the joy in people’s faces?”

  “Then they’re foolish! They have no responsibility!”

  “They have mercy, though. It was the right thing to do.”

  Oscar glared at her, and Alona saw the side of him she had heard about from others.

  “You’re not a proper wife! Do you think I don’t know about you and Jason?”

  “Me and Jason! What about me and Jason?” she asked sharply.

  “You think I don’t know how you get together when you’re alone here?”

  “I see Mrs. Darrow has been telling stories.”

  “Yes, she has, and I won’t have it anymore! You understand me?”

  Alona stood very still. “Oscar, I’m your wife. I have done nothing improper. If you are wise, you won’t make an issue of this.”

  Oscar stared at her. He was accustomed to having his own way, but something in Alona’s stance and the steadiness of her pose warned him. He stiffened and said, “I’m disappointed in you!” and stormed out of the room.

  Alona felt weak—so weak she had to sit down. She was trembling but filled with indignation. “How can he say such a thing? How could he?”

  ****

  Alona saw to it that she and Jason were never alone in the drawing room again after that. She did see him at choir practice, and one night as they were leaving at the same time, he said, “I can’t help but tell you how I admire you for standing up for Leland and his wife. It was heroic.”

  “Oh, it was hardly that!” she protested.

  “I didn’t have the courage to say anything, but you did.”

  She felt a surge of pity. “Jason, why don’t you leave this town? Go somewhere and start fresh. You’re wasted here.”

  “Where would I go, Alona? I left once and made a wreck of my life.”

  “You crashed a plane, but that’s all. You could do anything you please. You’ve got greatness in you.”

  He laughed harshly. “You’re the only one who sees it. Don’t worry about me, Alona.” When he left to hang out with a friend, she worried about the trouble that she saw lying ahead for this man for whom she felt such compassion.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  A Season of Turmoil

  “You can put your shirt on, Oscar.”

  Dr. Roberts stood back and watched as Oscar donned his shirt again. He was a cautious medical man, not quick to give opinions, and Oscar had been his patient for many years. As Oscar buttoned his shirt, the doctor said, “I expect you’d like me to give you some good word, but I can’t do it.”

  Oscar knew Dr. Roberts was a blunt, straightforward individual like Oscar himself. He buttoned the last button, tucked his shirt in, and pulled up his suspenders. He picked up his tie from the chair and began to knot it. “It’s the same old trouble, isn’t it?”

  “Yes it is, only worse.”

  “You said that the last time I was here.”

  “It was worse the last time you were here, Oscar. You wouldn’t listen to me then, but you’ve got to listen to me now.”

  “All right, I’m listening. What’s your verdict?”

  “You’re going to die if you don’t take some precautions.”

  The man’s harsh words struck Oscar hard. “That’s pretty blunt, Doctor.”

  “I never had much of a bedside manner. You know that. But I’m telling you, Oscar, you’ve ignored this problem for years now, and I’ve seen too many people like you who thought they were immortal. I’m telling you the truth. Your heart is like a time bomb. You know what a time bomb is?”

  “Certainly I know what a time bomb is! You think I’m a fool?”

  “I do think you’re a fool,” he said calmly. “Because only a fool would run the risk you’ve been taking for the past five years or longer. Sit down. We’ve got to talk.”

  Slowly Oscar lowered himself into a chair. He fumbled for his pocket watch, which hung suspended by a thick gold chain, and frowned at it. “I’ve got to be back at the foundry, so get on with what you have to say.”

  Roberts sighed heavily. He leaned back against the wall and shook his head. “Has it ever occurred to you that you might not get back to the foundry?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m telling you, you could die before you get there.”

  “Don’t try to scare me, Ed.”

  “I wish I could scare you! You’re in bad shape, Oscar. Terrible shape, in fact. If you don’t listen to me, you won’t live six months.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  “No, I don’t know it, but I can make an educated guess.”

  “All right. Let’s have the sermon. I know what’s coming.”

  Dr. Roberts shrugged his beefy shoulders. “You know what I’m going to say. You’re overweight, you never get any exercise, your diet is terrible, you drink too much wine, and your life is in a constant state of stress. Those are the things that could kill you.”

  Oscar’s shoulders twitched restlessly. He had heard all this before, but now there was an ominous glare in his doctor’s face. “Wel
l, I’ll try to do better.” He rose to his feet, anxious to get away from this conversation.

  “You’re a foolish man, Oscar. You’ve got everything that most men want, and you’re throwing it out the window. You’ve got a fine wife now and three boys who need guidance—it’s everything you’ve always wanted. But you’ve got to take care of yourself or you won’t live to enjoy it.”

  “I’m almost out of those pills you gave me. Give me a prescription for some more.”

  “These aren’t vitamin pills. They’re nitroglycerine—the same stuff that blows up buildings. What it does is open up your arteries. I’d hate to see the condition of your arteries with the way you like to eat. They’re bound to be closed up tight. Now, you can’t just gobble these pills like popcorn.” He pulled his prescription pad out of his pocket, scribbled on it, and handed the sheet to Oscar. “I’ll give you the prescription, but these won’t solve your problems long-term. I’m your friend, Oscar. I’m telling you for your own good that you need to make some serious changes—starting right now.”

  Oscar took the prescription, fumbling with it as he stuck it in his shirt pocket. “Thanks, Ed. I really will amend my ways.”

  “I hope so. I’d hate to see you go like so many others I’ve seen.”

  Oscar nodded and left the office. As he stepped out into the bright sunlight, he paused and looked down the street. It was an ordinary day with people walking along the sidewalks going into shops. Cars and trucks were making their way along at a leisurely pace. Just an ordinary day, but suddenly he had a touch of fear. The doctor’s words had cut deep, and he thought with chilling certainty, Tomorrow I might not be here to see this street. I’ve got to be more careful!

  ****

  “I don’t think you’ll ever get the hang of it, Tim.”

  Helen had been trying to teach Tim how to ride a horse, but he just couldn’t get comfortable in the saddle. By the end of their lesson, he felt as if he’d been bumped up and down like a pumpkin in a sack. And to top it off, he fell off the gelding when the horse made an abrupt turn. “Well, I never did claim to be a horseman.”

  Helen slipped off her filly. “That’s enough for today. Let’s get these animals unsaddled.”

  The two led their horses to the barn, where Tim proved more adept at unsaddling his mount than he had at riding him. After turning the horses out to pasture, Helen smiled at him. “Did you read that novel I gave you?”

  “Yes, I did. It was pretty soupy. Nothing in it but hugging and kissing.”

  “Um-hmm. Doesn’t that give you any ideas?”

  Tim had steeled himself for this moment and now boldly took Helen by the upper arms and kissed her, almost missing her mouth in his nervousness. After a brief kiss, he stepped back. Then to his horror she giggled!

  He glared at her, then whirled and started to walk stiffly away. Helen ran after him and caught his arm.

  “Wait, Tim. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

  His face was rigid, for he knew he was out of his league. He knew Helen had gone out with some older, more experienced boys, and he was very nervous about what she expected of him. He said almost hoarsely, “I just don’t know how to act around girls.”

  Helen had gotten to know Tim very well, for he was coming to her house on a regular basis now to see her mother. It amused her that he was more interested in art than in her. She was used to having boys flock to see her. “You’re so funny, Tim. So different from other boys. I have to fight them off sometimes, but all you want to do is talk to Mom about art.”

  “I’m sorry if I’m not what you want me to be.”

  “Don’t be mad.” She smiled. “You remind me of Buddy. You pout just like he does when you get your feelings hurt.”

  “I do not!”

  “Come on. Let’s go in the house.”

  “No, I should be getting home.”

  “Mom said to bring you in after we got through riding. She wants to talk to ask you about your latest painting.”

  He hesitated. “Well . . . all right.”

  As they moved toward the house, Helen studied the lean young man. He was still very boyish looking but was starting to fill out and grow taller. She was a year older than Tim and was already quite womanly in appearance. She could have her pick of older boys, but Tim’s innocence and naïveté appealed to her.

  “Tim, why haven’t you ever asked me out on a date?”

  “Why, you’re the most popular girl in our school, Helen. The important guys want to go out with you—the athletes and all.”

  “That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to have you ask me.”

  “Would you really?”

  “Of course I would. I thought you would have guessed that by now.”

  “All right. I will.” He thought hard about where he might ask her to go. “Would you like to go squirrel hunting with me next Saturday morning?”

  Helen wanted to laugh at his innocence. “I’ve never been squirrel hunting. I don’t think I could kill a nice little squirrel.”

  “I’m not a very good shot. I probably won’t hit any, but it’s nice to be out in the woods.”

  “All right. What time?”

  “I’ll come by about eight o’clock. That ought to give us plenty of time.”

  “It’ll be my first date going squirrel hunting,” Helen said. “I can hardly wait,” she said with a giggle.

  ****

  Tim made the final brush stroke on his latest painting, then stepped back. “What do you think, Jason?”

  “It’s not your best, but I like the way you’ve got that light coming through the trees. Light’s a tough thing to handle.”

  “I know it. I struggled with that.”

  “You seem a bit disturbed today. Anything wrong?” Jason asked, studying the boy’s face.

  “I had a run-in with Oscar early this morning. He doesn’t like me wasting my time painting. That’s what he calls it!” Tim said bitterly.

  “I know. I had the same argument with him when I was about your age. I lost the argument too. But I don’t want you to.”

  “It makes it real hard. He gets along better with Carl and Zac than he does with me. Especially Zac.”

  “That’s because Zac does what Oscar wants. He gets along with everybody who does what he wants.”

  “He doesn’t get along with Mom.”

  Jason did not answer for a moment. “It’s probably better if you and I don’t talk about that. It’s a very private matter between Oscar and your mom.”

  “All right. I won’t talk about it.” He put his paintbrush down. “I gotta talk to you about something, Jason.”

  “Okay. I’m listening.”

  “Umm, there’s this girl that I like a lot.”

  Jason smiled. “Does she like you?”

  “I think she does, but Jason, she’s the most popular girl in the school. She can go with anybody she wants to.”

  “But if she likes you, what’s the problem?”

  “I don’t know how to act around her. I tried to kiss her, and I made a mess out of it. You gotta tell me what to do.”

  Jason laughed. “You want me to give you kissing lessons?”

  “Oh, come on, Jason, you know that’s not what I mean! I just don’t know how to act around girls. I feel awkward and embarrassed.”

  “So do I.”

  “Aw, you don’t either.”

  “I do sometimes.” He shrugged. “Women are complicated, and I hate to tell you this, Tim, but it doesn’t get much easier as you get older. Let’s sit down and you can tell me all about this girl.”

  Jason listened while Tim told him how the two had become friends and had started spending a fair amount of time together. Jason made no comment until Tim finally said nervously, “I like her a lot, Jason.”

  “The only advice I can tell you is to respect that girl and be yourself. You can’t be another guy. You want her to like you for yourself. And she already does, right?” He smiled and clapped Tim on the should
er. “A fine, upstanding artist like you that’s going to be world famous, handsome, and charming.”

  “Aw, Jason, don’t kid me like that!”

  “I’m not kidding. You’re a great kid. Just be yourself. She’s lucky to have a boy like you interested in her.”

  ****

  For months now Alona’s life had been divided into two distinct parts. One was the pleasure of seeing her boys well clothed and well fed and living in a comfortable fashion. This meant less to her than it did to them, however. Even though she was now surrounded by luxury she had never known before and could buy anything she wanted, it mattered little.

  The luxuries that at one time might have made her happy and excited now left her cold, for the other side of her life was miserable. She’d had an exceptionally happy marriage to Truman. He had been a man of great wit, and until he was gone, she had never realized how much his humor had meant in their marriage. He had always been able to keep her spirits up by with his joking and teasing, and she missed it more than she had ever thought she would. She also missed the tenderness he showed her—the little things he did. She missed his habit of writing short messages on pieces of paper and putting them where she least expected them. He had hidden them inside the coffee can so that when she went to get the coffee in the morning, there was a little note from Truman saying, “I love you, sweetheart.” He had been unafraid to express his affection to her alone or in company, something she now realized was very rare in a man.

  As for the matter of the marriage bed, Oscar had practically terminated this aspect of their relationship—which gave her tremendous relief. There had been no pleasure at all in his embraces, for he was rough and demanding and insensitive. Ever since the church meeting concerning Leland Short, Oscar had kept his hands off her. It was obvious he still resented her actions in going against his wishes that night.

  It was on a bright chilly November afternoon when she sat thinking of these things that Jason unexpectedly came home from work. She assumed he had forgotten something when he went straight downstairs to his bedroom.