“It’s great, Mom,” I said, really meaning it.
The house looked great. The kitchen had been completely gutted and replaced with new cabinets, countertops, and appliances. She’d pulled up the carpet and refinished the hardwood underneath, and stripped the paint from the fireplace, revealing deep grains in the oak.
After I’d graduated high school, Mom went back to school and got her nursing degree. Now, she was the head nurse of a dialysis clinic, and made a tidy salary. I was so happy to see her enjoying her good fortune. She deserved it, more than anyone else I knew.
“It feels like a completely different house,” I said. “Everything’s different, even the light.”
“Not everything,” Mom said. “Come on.”
She led me down the hall to my room. She was right, not everything was different. I stood in a time capsule of my high school years. There were posters of outdated movies and pop groups, binders stuffed with papers, and pictures of old friends. There, on the shelf above my bed, was the picture of Hunter and I at graduation. I tried not to stare at it too long.
The next morning, I slipped into my funeral dress, a simple black, knee-length number that I’d had for years. When I emerged from my room, Mom tried to smear red lipstick on my lips.
“Mom, it’s a funeral,” I said, pushing her away.
“You need some color,” she insisted.
“Fine, just a little,” I said.
The service was held in a large church, but it still wasn’t big enough to house the mass of people that had come to wish Annabelle farewell. It seemed the entire town had turned out. Mom and I stood in the back with the standing room only crowd. If I stood on my tiptoes and stretched my neck, I thought I could barely make out the back of Hunter’s head sitting in front with the family.
As the pastor gave his eulogy, I realized there was a lot about Annabelle that I didn’t know. She’d fled an abusive husband with her young son, Hunter’s father, in tow. On her own and in a new place, she worked the land, and became the first woman in the county to own a farm. People from miles around knew her for her red, sweet, strawberries in the summer, and leafy green collards in the winter.
When the service ended, I grabbed Mom’s arm in an effort to slip out. She gave me an incredulous look.
“Don’t you want to talk to Hunter?” she said.
“There’s so many people here. I’ll never get to him,” I said.
“You have to let him know that you were here,” Mom said. “Come on. Follow me.”
Mom grabbed onto my arm, then elbowed her way through the crowd. We were walking down the front stairs of the church when I spotted Hunter. He stood under an enormous pecan tree a few yards away from everyone else.
“He looks like he’s thinking or something,” I said. “I’ll just send him an email.”
“Hunter!” Mom called. “Hunter, so good to see you.”
Mom ran down the stairs, dragging me along. Hunter turned towards her voice. I thought he’d be annoyed, but when he saw us, his face lit up with a smile.
“Hey,” he said, turning towards us with his arms open. “Marty,” he said, kissing Mom on the cheek. He turned to me, and said in a low voice, “Ellie.”
“Hello, Hunter,” I said, extending my hand. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Hunter looked down at my hand, then opened his arms and wrapped me in a bear hug. My face pressed into his dark suit. He smelled exactly the same.
“You came,” Hunter whispered in my ear. My eyes fell closed, and I welcomed the warmth of his embrace.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said.
“It was her time,” Hunter said, his eyes growing a bit red. He wiped his nose with a tissue, then smiled. “I’ve been telling people what Grandma used to say about them, so let me share something with you.” Hunter looked down, shyly. “She always said that you and I were meant to be together.”
I heard Mom take a sharp breath in. I shot her a look that said, “be cool.”
“Grandma used to always say,” Hunter continued. “Promise me you’ll marry that girl one day.” Hunter laughed as he ran his left hand through his hair. I noticed he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. Mom did too, apparently. She nudged me hard in the side.
“And what would you say?” I asked, teasingly.
Hunter blushed. “I’d say, ‘yes,’ of course. Sometimes she wouldn’t let me have ice cream unless I agreed.”
We laughed together, then there was an awkward break in conversation. Mom broke the silence by looking at her watch dramatically, then saying, “Oh shoot, I have to get back to my knitting.”
“You have to leave so soon?” Hunter said. “Ellie, I’d love to catch up with you more. How about we go get some coffee, and I’ll drive you home after.”
“Sounds like a lovely idea,” Mom said before I could answer. “You two have fun.” She turned and rushed off without saying another word.
*
The coffee shops here were nothing like the ones in the city where I lived. There was no art on the walls with exorbitantly expensive price tags, or a lone guitarist on a stage in the corner, or counterculture newspapers available. This coffee shop had red plastic booths with dingy white tables, fluorescent lighting, and if I remembered right, the best pie in the state. Hunter and I split a piece of cherry pie with our coffee.
“Okay, I want to know everything,” Hunter said. “What are you doing now?”
“I’m a graphic designer with a marketing agency,” I said.
“Impressive,” Hunter said. “You’ve really made something of yourself.”
“Not really,” I said, shrugging. “It’s entry level work, nine to five, though usually it’s nine to whenever. I’m like a normal person now.”
“Ellie, don’t shortchange yourself,” Hunter said. “We both know what you’ve overcome.”
I’d never thought about it like that. My past felt like a weight that I dragged around with me. Perhaps, instead, it was something I’d defeated.
“What about you?” I said, eager to change the subject.
“I worked with non-profits all through college,” Hunter said. “Now I’m vice president of the East County Food Bank. I’m also working on my PhD in Divinity.”
“They give out degrees in that stuff?” I said, trying to be funny. I always used to rib him about his religion.
“They do, actually,” Hunter said with a handsome smile. “And after being involved with scholarly study, I’ve come to the conclusion that there’s no logical way to disprove God.”
I bit my lip, not wanting to get into an argument. I’d always denied the existence of God, but I knew I couldn't debate a PhD candidate on the issue. Hunter went on to tell me about all the people they’ve fed through the food bank, and how he wanted to expand it throughout the state. I nodded along, politely, but this wasn’t what I really wanted to hear about. Hunter finished talking and took a sip of steaming coffee.
“What about Ashley?” I asked. “Weren’t you engaged?”
Hunter placed his mug carefully on the table. “Yes, we were. But it didn’t work out.”
“What happened?” I asked.
Hunter locked his eyes on mine. I felt those familiar stirrings in my belly. “Because I’d promised Grandma I’d marry you,” he said.
I laughed and swatted his arm. “Stop it. What really happened? How’d you screw it up?”
“There was something about me that Ashley couldn’t quite get past,” he said.
I squinted my eyes at him, confused. I knew everything about Hunter, or so I thought.
“What?” I asked.
Hunter took a deep breath, then grabbed my hand. “I’d like to invite you to a Bible study I’m leading tonight.”
“Hunter, come on,” I said. “You know I don’t go for that stuff.”
“Keep an open mind, Ellie. Isn’t that what you learned in college? You can’t shut yourself off from other ways of thinking.”
“I guess that’s true,�
� I admitted.
“And I’ll buy you a burger afterward,” he said.
“From the nice burger joint, not the other one,” I said.
“All right, fine,” Hunter said. “From the nice burger joint.”
“You’re not crossing your fingers, are you?” I asked.
Hunter lifted his hands, spreading his fingers far apart.
“Okay, what time?” I said.
*
We sat in rows of folding chairs in a room in the same church where Annabelle’s funeral was held hours earlier. The people around me were of all ages and all walks of life. They eagerly waited with their Bibles open on their lap for Hunter to get started.
“I want to start by saying thank you all for the condolences,” Hunter said. “Annabelle Ray was a strong Christian woman. She led me on the righteous path of faith. God blessed us by letting us have her for so long.
“Now, tonight I want to talk about what God wants from each and every one of us. This earth is not our eternal home, but God has a plan for what we do here.” Hunter opened his Bible and flipped to the front. “‘God created the male in his own image, and the female as a companion for him.’ You all know the story, so let’s fast forward a little. So God created male and female. What roles did He intend for them?”
I listened intently. Religion was something I’d always judged from a distance. Now, I realized, I knew very little about it.
“God created men and women to live as partners, to join together in marriage, and create families,” Hunter said. “Families, as we know, are the cornerstone of every society. Without them, our world crumbles. But how to we keep the family together? Let’s see what the good book says.”
Hunter flipped through the Bible until he landed on the page he wanted, and began to read. “‘As the church submits to Christ, wives should submit to their husbands. Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her, that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word.’”
A knot formed in my stomach. I remembered why I didn’t agree with religion. All that talk about female submission left a bad taste in my mouth. Hunter closed his Bible and looked out to the crowd.
“I know what you’re thinking. ‘A husband can’t control his wife. They’re equals.’ That’s simply not true.” Hunter stood and paced the room, holding the Bible by his side. “In God’s perfect design, men and women are not equals. Having made man in His image, a holy marriage is a patriarchy. But this doesn’t mean a husband can rule with an iron fist. God calls on men to cherish their wives, love them, and lead them in spiritual growth.”
The crowded nodded along, smiling. I crossed my arms over my chest, not sure if I was buying it.
“So, now that we’ve covered the bases,” Hunter said. “Let’s see what that kind of marriage looks like. Modern life makes it difficult to serve God, but it can be done. In the traditional marriage, the husband makes the rules, and the wife abides.
“And I know what you’re thinking now. ‘How can the husband make his wife follow his rules? He can’t force her.’” Hunter lifted up his Bible and tapped the cover. “This book, which I’ve read every word of believe with my whole heart, makes the case for discipline.”
Discipline? I thought. Where is he going with this?
Hunter paced in front of the audience, rattling off Bible verses from memory. “‘Whoever spares the rod hates his son, but he who loves him is diligent to discipline him.’ ‘Those whom I love, I reprove and discipline, so be zealous and repent.’” Hunter turned and faced the audience. His gaze fell directly on me. “‘Whoever loves discipline loves knowledge, but he who hates reproof is stupid.’”
I crinkled my nose at him. He shook his head with a smile.
“As men have the authority to punish their children, they also have the authority to punish their wives, as granted by God,” Hunter continued. “But men, don’t abuse your power. Spank her, if you must, with love in your heart, and the intention of bringing her closer to God.” He glanced around the word, letting his words fall. “Let us end with prayer.”
Everyone bowed their head and closed their eyes except for me. I looked around in shock. After all the ludicrous things Hunter had said, no one had protested. He’d essentially told the men to go home and beat their wives. I was so disgusted, that I rose from my chair, causing it to scrape noisily across the floor. Hunter looked up and caught my eye as I walked away.
I marched away from the church as fast as I could. Maybe Hunter wasn’t who I’d thought he was. I’d dreamed up the persona of a perfect man and projected it onto him. He was nothing more than a religious zealot.
I should’ve known that I couldn’t get away from him that easily. Hunter came sprinting out of the church and caught up with me.
“Ellie, what did you think?” he asked.
I whirled around. “What did I think?” I asked, sarcastically. “I think you’re a sexist, and a misogynist, and a real asshole.”
Hunter lifted his hands in surrender. “I know it might sound strange to you.”
“Of course it does, Hunter,” I said. “And I can’t believe you’d advocate for that kind of thing. You remember Daddy, how he used to use Mom and me as punching bags. I can’t believe you’d use religion to justify that.”
Hunter grabbed my arm and narrowed his eyes. “That’s not at all what this is. A man’s role is to protect, to love, and to lead. Your father didn’t do that. He didn’t answer to God, only to himself.”
“I have to go,” I said, wrenching my arm away.
Hunter held tight to my arm, and pulled me closer to him. He looked directly into my eyes. I felt an invisible force pulling us together.
“Ellie,” he said, breathlessly. “I wanted to protect you then, and I want to protect you know.”
I blinked. My head was swimming. Suddenly, I forgot all of my feminists ideals and let him kiss me. An overwhelming warmth rushed through me as our lips met. It should’ve been strange, kissing my best friend, but it felt right. Our lips fit together perfectly. Our tongues moved in a flawless rhythm.
But a memory came to me. My mom, sitting on the edge of her bed, crying. I stood before her, no older than seven years old. She pulled up my shirt sleeve and examined the bruises on my arm.
“No,” I said, pulling away from him.
“Ellie, please. Give us a chance. Grandma was right. We were meant to be together.”
I wanted to run into his arms, but I kept my feet firmly planted on the ground.
“No,” I repeated. “I have to go.”
I turned to walk away, and Hunter let me.
*
I was supposed to stay a few more days, but I decided to cut my trip short. Mom was sitting at the kitchen table looking at her iPad when I told her. She took her glasses off and gave me a disappointed look.
“You want to go already?” she said. “Don’t you want to spend some more time with Hunter?”
I picked up a napkin and started ripping it into tiny pieces. “No,” I said, curtly.
“Well, why not?”
“We hung out. It was fun. Whatever. Maybe I’ll text him one day.”
Mom lowered her eyes at me. “Come on, Ellie. I saw the way you two looked at each other at the funeral. Don’t you want to see what could happen?”
“No, I don’t,” I said. “We’re just friends.”
“But, Ellie. He charming, successful, handsome. What more could you want?”
I’d had enough of Mom pressing me. If she really wanted to know, then I was going to tell her.
“I want a man who doesn’t think he has the right to beat me,” I shouted.
Mom sat back, a numb look on her face. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me right, Mom,” I said, passion rising in my voice. “He thinks God has granted men the authority over their wives. So we get married, and then what? He spanks me because I burned his dinner?”
Mom let out a little chuckle, wh
ich angered me more. “You’re talking about domestic discipline.”
“You know about that?” I asked.
“I do,” Mom said, nodding confidently. “I used to go to church every Sunday, Bible study every Wednesday. Then your father came along. He was an atheist and didn’t like me going to church.” Mom let out a deep sigh. “I’m sorry to say I let my relationship with God wither.”
I stared at her incredulously. “I didn’t know you were so religious.”
“I was,” Mom said, a distant look in her eye. “And what Hunter is talking about is God’s holy design for marriage.”
“How can you defend it?” I said, shaking my head. “Daddy thought he had the right to hit you.”
“That’s true, he did,” Mom said. “But he wasn’t guided by God. He was guided by his own selfishness. He couldn’t even look past himself to see that something greater existed. I think he was mad at the world because he couldn’t find the meaning in life.” Mom took my hand. “It’s one of my greatest regrets that I didn’t raise you in the church. But it’s not too late to find a relationship with God. Hunter can lead you there.”
I started to pull my hand away from her, when I suddenly experienced an overwhelming peace. My eyelids fluttered and my muscles relaxed. Something told me that what Mom was saying was the truth.
Hunter was nothing like my father. He’d always been there for me, and I could trust him. He’d said that he wanted to protect me, and the fact was, he’d been protecting me for a long time. When he’d comforted me when we were children, when he’d nagged me about my partying, and even when we were apart, and I couldn’t shake his voice from my head.
He’d been protecting me this entire time.
“What was that?” Mom said, looking past me to window.
“What did you see?”
Mom shook her head. “I thought I saw someone out in the field. But no one goes out there anymore.”
I glanced at the clock. It was three, our meeting time. It was Hunter who was out there.
“I have to go,” I said, and rushed outside.
Alpha Husbands and Obedient Wives (Christian Domestic Discipline Romance): 3 Complete Series in 1 Page 2
