by Andrews
“Well, we both have inherited family homes. You don’t just dump those.”
“You’re making an assumption that we’re living together,” she said.
“You don’t think I’m letting you go home?” I kissed her. “I’ll do anything…including burn your clothes.”
“How about a city house for entertaining, so people like Margaret don’t have to sit on dog hair, and a country house for those of us who happen to thrive on hair seats.”
“Okay.” I let my breath out as if that had solved something monumental and then pulled her down on the bed, stripping off her sweatpants. “Chancellor is nice, but I prefer this position.”
* * *
Nervous, worried, and upset, I couldn’t fall asleep. Stressful meetings, finding the lover I had never dared dream of, and having an opportunity to be chancellor all in the same month, week, hour, was a ten on my personal Richter. I lay awake trying not to move and awaken Viv. I shifted slightly to be able to punch the light on the side of the clock that would allow me to see the time. It was after one a.m. and now I fretted that I would look like hell in the morning.
After yet another flop onto my stomach, and then back, I felt Viv fling an arm over me, kiss me, then yank me out of bed. “Come on, throw on your jeans.”
“What are we doing?”
“Something other than toss and fret and sweat. We’ll go for a ride.”I yanked on my jeans and tennis shoes and threw on a T-shirt.
“What’s open at this time of night?”
I followed her out the back door to the pasture. “Come on.” And with that she grabbed halters and bridles and headed out toward the horses, who walked toward her in the moonlight.
“What are we doing? I don’t ride that well even in the daylight.”
“Good. This will give you something else to think about.” She put the bridle on both horses as I watched, not believing what she was doing, then pushed on Mac, angling his body up against the fence, and ordered me to use it to climb on. There was no way. Mac stepped deftly aside each time, so Viv pushed Ghostie against the fence. I hoisted myself up and she surprised me by getting on in front of me. “He’s big enough to handle us both, and we’ll just walk him.”
I wrapped my arms around her waist and put my cheek on her small back and was ready to ride off into the moonlight. She turned Ghostie away from the house and took him through the pasture at a lazy walk. Mac trudged along at our side to be with his friend.
“I feel as if you and I have ridden this way before. Centuries ago. Isn’t that odd?” I said.
“We probably did. It’s all connected, darling.”
The moonlight was spectacular, and all my anxiety passed through my body, dissipated through this massive animal, and disappeared into the ground. “This is God, Alex. This is where God lives. In these gentle animals, in our love, in us.”
* * *
An hour later I was back in bed, curled around Viv again, only this time without a horse under us. I slept better than I’d slept in my entire life and awoke feeling like my world was about to change.
As the sun rose, Viv insisted she had to stop acting like a lovesick teenager long enough to go to her office and get some work done.
She’d told her coworkers she was taking a week off to be with her lover—a truth so bold that I blinked when she confessed it. I asked if she thought there might be a verbal line drawn, at which point sharing was unnecessary. She said they were dying to have her return so they could quiz her.
“Now I can tell them my secret love is a priest,” she teased. At my alarmed expression she said, “Face it, dear, you’re out.”
I kissed her good-bye and headed over to see my father. He was recuperating now in an intermediary rehab facility and would, I hoped, be back in his home with in-home care soon. I wanted to tell him that I’d been asked to be chancellor, something he’d always said would happen. I could imagine the surprise and pride on his face, and the idea of witnessing his reaction made me happy I was going to see him today.The corridors in the facility were filled with bulletin boards and photos of the recuperating—mostly older people demeaned, I thought, by the forced fun of unnatural poses, childish games, and non-events. I never wanted to live long enough to have someone put me in a finger-painting class.
I rounded the corner to room 272 where my father, wearing his own robe and sipping tea, was watching television. He greeted me with a smile and I gave him a resounding kiss on the cheek, then told him I was so glad he was alive and well. After reciting the weather, which seemed to be a preoccupation for the elderly even though they wouldn’t experience it firsthand, I launched into the meeting with Margaret Thurgood and her request. “She wants me to become”—I paused to let him get the full impact—“chancellor.”
“Margaret Thurgood is an idiot,” he said, and as a first response, it stung. “She is only in charge of the trust because all the sensible men are dead. I’ve known of that family for years.”
“Well, idiot or not, she’s asked me to take the highest position the seminary offers, Father, something you always said you wanted.”
“That was long ago. You’re not suited to it. Particularly in light of the path you’ve taken lately. It could only come to a bad end.”
“Well, obviously, I’m not the conservative choice for a seminary chancellor.” He said nothing. Does he know what he’s saying to me?
Are these just more ramblings from a disconnected mind? Why do I care if he’s pleased? Why can he still hurt me with his assessment of me? I sat contemplating these questions as he continued to watch a mindless game show on TV. The nurse came in and offered to help him urinate into a plastic urinal so he wouldn’t have to get up. I turned my head away out of respect. What irony, a man who had to have help peeing into a plastic beaker had such a psychological grip on me. Anger welled up inside me and I wanted to shout at him that he was mean-spirited and uncaring, but then I might give him a heart attack.
After twenty minutes of silence, I stood up and said good-bye. He barely noticed as I walked to the door, and it was as if an invisible hand stopped me and turned me around. I walked back to his bedside, took the remote and flipped off the TV, then stepped into his line of vision and spoke quietly.
“Father, the woman I was seeing when I was at Berkeley years ago. I loved her then and I let you control me and destroy that because I didn’t have the courage of my convictions. I’ve always wanted to ask you…did you pay her or just threaten her to get her to betray me?”
He looked at me with more clarity than I could remember in years and said, “I saved your career.”
I thought about that for a moment, all anger long flushed through my system, and merely nodded. Of course, to a military man, that would be everything. In his mind, what more could he do for me?
As I walked to the parking lot, it became clear that I had to talk to her, the woman of my youth, the woman whose image was the icon of sin. The woman my father had chased away. I knew exactly in what city she lived. I’d made it a point to know.
I went back to my farm. Viv was still at work and I dug around in my desk until I found her Dallas phone number. I had Googled it off and on over the years to see if she was still there. I went outside on the back porch overlooking the farm and rang her number, my heart pounding.
The woman’s voice on the other end of the line sounded weaker than I remembered.
“Jeannette, this is Alexandra Westbrooke.” For a moment I didn’t think she would speak, but would simply hang up.
“Well, how are you?” she finally asked in a friendly but dispassionate tone, as one might inquire of a near stranger.
“I’m fine,” I said, as she asked me all the perfunctory questions about my life.
“I heard you became a priest,” she said. “That’s wonderful.”
“Odd, don’t you think, in light of what you and I did together at Berkeley?”
“Oh, the marches. Yes, my son couldn’t believe his mom was a wild protestor.”
The word “Wilde” popped into my head and I saw Viv’s face.
After ten minutes of banal conversation, I finally worked up to my reason for calling.
“Jeannette, I have a question I’ve always wanted to ask. I know it’s been years, but when my father stepped in and—”
“Oh, Alexandra, don’t ask me anything hard. It’s been such a long time—”
“I know. But you and I were together—”
“We were wonderful friends—”
“We were more than friends. We slept together.” Silence like the blanket thrown over a cage to quiet a squawking bird.
“We were just young and it was a crazy time and—”
“What did my father say to you to get you to deny what we had—”
“Your father was just like my Jake. He’s so protective of his sons. He’d do anything—”
“Please tell me what he said.”
“He said nothing, Alexandra. There was nothing to say because nothing really happened.” Her denial was so complete that I was certain she believed it. Nothing really happened. And although I knew it was long past dawn, I thought I heard a cock crow from a distant farm.
“It was so long ago, it’s like a dream to me,” she continued. “My life is so full now with my kids and my first grandbaby. In fact, I’m on the way to meet my daughter-in-law to shop for the baby shower.” That was my cue, and I thanked her and told her good-bye.
I had carried the image of this event, of this woman, branded on my soul for decades. The love, the anger, the hate, the remorse, the longing.
And now it was washed away like footprints in the sand. It meant so much to me and, seemingly, only me. My father saw it as a career point and Jeannette seemed not to see it at all. What had happened?
Time. Time had changed it all, just as I told my students. What was horrific, heart-rending, unacceptable was now not even worth a serious discussion. I had opened the luggage I’d carried with me for years and years, only to find it completely empty.
Chapter Thirty
Three weeks later I awoke to the morning of my installation as chancellor of Claridge. It was a small version of what the president of the United States must feel, being one minute a rather ordinary citizen and the next the most honored leader.
“Did you sleep?” Viv asked, kissing me.
“Little bit. I was nervous.”
“You’ll be great.” She slid her beautiful hand down my legs, making me moan.
“I was thinking about my conversation with Jeannette. The woman at Berkeley years ago.”
“You called her, why?” Viv stared at me, a little jealousy visible in her eyes.
“She was frozen in time for me. She represented the most frightening, embarrassing, painful, and heartbreaking moment of my young life.”
“Wow, how can I ever top that?”
“You know you have, in the most wonderful way. But she was my betrayal. She denied ever having any affection for me.”
“What did she tell you when you asked her about that?” Viv laid her head on my chest.
“She couldn’t remember it and had to go to a baby shower.”
Viv’s laugh was low and sexy. “Must not have been as good for her.” At my hurt look she patted me. “I’m teasing. Goes to show you, though, doesn’t it? Most guilt, angst, fear—it’s all in our heads.”
“What about sex?”
“That too…and some other thrilling places.”
“Do you think I’m the first chancellor to make love hours before being installed?”
“Oh, honey, a few have done it on site.” She laughed at my shocked look and bounded off the bed, demanding that we hit the shower and greet this important day.
A short time later, I stood before her in a beautiful vestment, my hair and makeup in place, seeming even to me like I might know what the hell I was doing.
“How do I look?”
“Very sexy.”
“Robes aren’t supposed to be sexy.”
“Well, on you they are.” She hugged me and her fingers caught in the rope braiding around my middle. “Except for this fashion nightmare you tie around your waist—what is it?”
“A cincture. Symbolizing purity and chastity.”
“Well, darling, you can hang that up.” Her dry delivery made me laugh. “And the robes, so they don’t wrinkle before we get there.”
I disrobed, kissing her. Then suddenly I slid my gold signet ring off and slipped it on her ring finger, where it appeared to have been made for her. Her shocked expression thrilled me. “Because of you I have the courage to love openly and to become chancellor. You’re the fighting queen more than I.” Tears welled up in her eyes and she put her arms around me and kissed me, nearly melting me and rendering me mindless as I began unfastening the tiny French buttons that lined the front of her black suit jacket.
“We have to go, darling, or you’ll be late,” she whispered as I put my lips on her beautiful neck and kissed my way down to her breasts, then moaned as she fended me off. “Come on. I’ll drive, you fret.” She took the keys from me, and we hugged Ketch good-bye and got in the car.
“Omigod, when I come back, I’ll be chancellor.”
“Don’t you know there are some people on campus having a conniption over that?”
“Try not to sound so gleeful,” I said.
“What will be your first official act?”
“Hiring Eleonor back. She makes me laugh, and God knows I’ll need that.”
We pulled into the parking lot, and I could see across the commons various groups of people welcoming me and others marching with protest signs. A media truck was parked in the center of the parking lot, and I was grateful we were in Viv’s BMW and not my easily recognizable Mustang. I redirected her around to the admin building and the private spaces reserved for the chancellor and board.
“It’s a circus,” I whispered.
“Of course. You’re rocking the establishment. Doesn’t it feel good? Think back to your Berkeley days, when you prayed for crowds like this.”
“I was younger then.”
“And the sex wasn’t as good,” she said, ranking herself.
“No, darling, the sex wasn’t nearly as good.”
We slipped into the back of the chapel and I kissed Viv good-bye as I entered to change into my liturgical garb. “Okay, no making faces at me, and sit where you can see the crowd reaction so you can tell me later.”
“Do you have your notes?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“I love you, Reverend darling, and you’ll be smashing. Here.”
She took the black onyx cross my mother had worn, that I had thrown down in her front lawn, and put it in my hand. “Your mom marvels, I’m sure, at everything you’ve accomplished. But don’t wear it. A cross is a burden and He carried it so you don’t have to.”
Tears welled up as Viv kissed me again and left quickly. I placed my hand on the big red Bible sitting on the countertop and said a prayer.
God, make me the best that I can be. Make me a positive influence on all that come in contact with me. Make me an agent of change. And… thank you sooooo much for Vivienne. I smiled as I prayed.
Dennis came barreling through the door and hugged me.
“Can you even believe this? Only weeks ago voted most unlikely to succeed as chancellor. It’s meant to be. It’s God’s will. There’s no other explanation for why a…a—”
“Careful, I’m the future chancellor.”
“But you’re not yet…a horny woman of wild ideals—”
“Dennis.”
He burst out laughing. “I’m just so happy for you.”
“You have to help me, you know.”
“I will. I will.”
“How do I look?”
“Chancellorish. I’m going to the front of the chapel to greet and seat.”As Dennis left, Margaret Thurgood entered, wearing a suit that looked like it cost my entire year’s salary.
“Well, well, well. How do yo
u feel?” she asked.
“Nervous.”
“This is the easy part. After this come the waves of controversy and hatred and whatever else mankind can muster in the wake of human progress.”
“I feel better already.” I grinned. “Will you ever come for dinner? Viv has a house in town.”
“I might.”
“Good.”
“Well, what do you religious types say…God bless?” She shrugged endearingly.
“We say thank you, Margaret, for giving everyone a chance to feel better about themselves.”
I held out my hand and she took it. We stayed that way for a moment.
“I’m allergic to fish,” she said. My mind flashed on the symbol Christians often put on the back of their cars. At my confused expression, she added, “In case I come to dinner.”
“I’ll remember that,” I said, and she went out into the chapel.
* * *
The installation ceremony was a mix of religion and business. After prayers, hymns, introductions, and explanations, I was introduced and took a moment at the pulpit to just breathe and scan the crowd. Finally, I gave them a big, relaxed smile, determined that the furrowed faces of religion would not be seen in this administration.
“I am the least likely person on this earth to be chancellor. Already there is a rumor on the board that they will try to overthrow me. I am a polarizing element, a threat to the norm, the most controversial person you can think of—with the exception of, perhaps, Jesus. A man who stood up for women in a time when women were nothing. A man who talked about a father, and a son, and a ghost. How controversial was Moses? Took a trip to a mountain and had a conversation with fire, basically. How controversial is Mary and the Virgin Birth? I’m not telling you what to believe about Jesus, Mary, or Moses. But I am saying that the church was built around controversial people and topics.
I am just another tiny variation of controversy. I am here to challenge your tolerance, your love, and your staying power. You will hear that I’m a practicing lesbian. Well, I’m at an age where I no longer practice.
