The Pastor's Wife

by Jennifer AlLee

  “Appreciation for what?”

  “For not letting me scare you off at that board meeting.”

  Maura frowned. “Were you trying to scare me off?”

  Oren glanced down at his shoes. “I wanted to make sure you were serious about coming back here and making something of the theatre. And I didn’t want to see Pastor Nick get hurt again.” He took a deep breath, the internal struggle clear on his face. “I guess I need to apologize for that too. I never thought about your side of the story. But seeing you now, how you’ve embraced the town and become part of it, I figure something pretty serious must have happened to run you off the first time.”

  Maura nodded, unable to speak.

  “Whatever happened, that's between you and God. And Pastor Nick, of course. For what it's worth, I think you’re working out fine here.”

  “It's worth a lot.” Maura drew him into an impulsive hug. Stiff and motionless at first, he finally gave her an awkward pat on the back.

  “We don’t have to get all mushy like this every time I come to class, do we?” he asked, pulling away.

  Maura laughed. Now that's the Oren she knew. “Only if it's part of a scene. And speaking of scenes, how would you like to do us a huge favor and join our Christmas pageant?”

  “I thought all the parts were already cast.”

  “They are, but Stu Pierson got called out of town this morning for a family matter. He was supposed to play the innkeeper in one of the skits, but he might not be back in time. I didn’t know how I’d ever replace him so close to the performance, but now here you are, an answer to prayer. I’d be so thankful if you would step in.”

  Oren's chest puffed out a bit. Clearly, it pleased him to be considered an answer to someone's prayer. “When's rehearsal?”

  16

  There's a saying in the theatre that the worse the dress rehearsal is, the better the actual performance will be. Maura certainly hoped it was true because that meant the Christmas Gala should be worthy of a Tony Award.

  A moving pack of bodies crammed the backstage area of the Music Box Theatre. And every one of them seemed to have some kind of problem that only Maura could solve.

  “Ms. Sullivan, I can’t find my costume.”

  “Mrs. Nelson's in charge of costumes. Go check with her, sweetie.” Maura pointed the anxious fifth-grade girl toward Rachel, who stood by a clothing rack, handing out garments faster than a sales clerk at a clearance sale.

  Maura turned her attention back to her clipboard but felt a tugging on her pant leg. She looked down to see five-year-old Timmy Reyes, decked out in shepherd garb, gazing wide-eyed up at her. “Yes, Timmy?”

  “I forgot what I’m thupothe to thay.”

  She bit her lip to keep from smiling at Timmy's adorable lisp. “When your class finishes singing ‘Away in a Manger,’ you say, ‘Jesus Christ is born.’ Got it?”

  Timmy pursed his lips and mouthed the words. He nodded his head sharply and shuffled away to join a bunch of pint-size shepherds.

  Maura smiled and looked back at her checklist. Once everyone was in costume, she needed to go over the performance order and make sure each group knew their cues. Then—

  A blood curdling shriek brought backstage activity to a halt. Everyone stood rooted in place until another scream spurred them to action.

  “The bathroom!’ Maura called out as she ran down the hall, closely followed by the entire cast and crew. They came to a stop outside the door to the women's restroom. Becca Nelson stood there, her back flat against the wall, her face white as a snowdrift.

  Maura put her hand gently on the teenager's shoulder. “Becca, are you okay? What's wrong?”

  “There's something in there.”

  Maura looked around. “Where?”

  Becca lifted one arm straight out from her side and pointed at the closed door. “There.”

  This was overly dramatic, even for a member of the drama team. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Maura rubbed her hand up and down the girl's arm. “What did you see?”

  “An animal.”

  An animal in the bathroom. Rats. Oh, she hoped not. She did not need to contend with a vermin infestation right now. But before she could do anything, she had to calm Becca down. Maura sighed with relief when she saw that Rachel had made her way through the curious crowd.

  “Did you see a spider, Baby Doll?” Rachel slid her arm around her daughter, prying her off the wall.

  The endearment, and the snickers it drew from some of the teens standing nearby, snapped Becca out of her panicked state. “Mom, please. No, I didn’t see a spider. I saw a big, hairy animal.”

  “What kind of an animal?” Rachel asked.

  Becca's head flopped from one side to the other. “I don’t know. I went in to check my makeup and I saw this … thing in one of the stalls. I didn’t stick around long enough to find out what it was.”

  Nick made his way through the crowded hallway. He came up beside Maura, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Would you like me to check it out?”

  “Yes. Please.” Relief shot through her. She’d been ready to wage war with whatever had taken over the bathroom, but she’d so much rather have Nick do it.

  He squared his shoulders and winked. “If I’m not back in twenty minutes, send in reinforcements.” He pushed open the door and went in.

  The door closed automatically behind him, but not before an alarming odor hit Maura in the face. She wrinkled her nose in distaste. Whew, the mystery critter was mighty pungent.

  “What the—”

  Nick's exclamation penetrated the closed door. Then came the sound of a scuffle, some grunts from Nick, and the clatter of hard-sole shoes clacking on the tile. Maura and Rachel exchanged looks.

  “Do you think we should help him?” Rachel asked.

  Maura shook her head firmly. “Let's give him another minute.” If Nick couldn’t handle the situation, what chance did she have?

  Silence. Not a sound came from within the bathroom. Maura leaned closer, her ear almost against the door, when it flew open. She jumped back, and a red-faced Nick rushed out, pulling the door shut behind him.

  “It's a sheep,” he said.

  “A what?” Maura's disbelief was echoed by the adults standing in the hallway.

  “A sheep. A big, woolly, white sheep.”

  Becca looked as if she might pass out. Rachel started laughing. And the kids in the hallway pushed forward, clamoring to get a look. As if they’d never seen a sheep before.

  Maura still couldn’t quite comprehend what Nick was telling her. “A sheep? How did a sheep get in my bathroom?”

  “I brought it.” A female voice called out of the crowd, and Samantha Pruitt made her way forward. Sam had only recently joined the youth group, but she’d struck Maura as a nice, down-to-earth girl. Definitely not the kind to pull this sort of prank.

  “Why?” Maura asked.

  “It was supposed to be a surprise, but that got ruined thanks to fraidy-cat here.” She crooked her thumb at Becca. “You know when we’re singing “The First Noel” and Billy Tyler carries in that stuffed sheep? It looks so lame. I thought it’d be cool to have a real sheep.”

  “But Billy's only six years old,” Nick spoke up. “That animal must weigh at least forty pounds. There's no way he could carry it.”

  Sam hung her thumbs in the belt loops of her jeans and cocked her head to the side. “I know. But he could lead it in. Oscar's leash trained.”

  Maura felt like she’d stepped into an alternate universe. “The sheep's name is Oscar?”

  “Yep. I raised him for a 4-H project, so now he's my pet.” She turned a glare toward Becca. “He wouldn’t hurt anybody.”

  Becca stuck out her tongue at Sam, who responded by making the universal symbol for “loser” with her fingers on her forehead. Maura snapped out of her shock. She had to put an end to this before she lost control of the whole night.

  “Okay, you two, that's enough. Sam,” she put her hand on the girl's shou
lder, “I appreciate that you wanted to improve the Gala. But we’ve got enough to coordinate without bringing live animals into the mix. As soon as the dress rehearsal is over, I need you to take Oscar home. And keep him there. Okay?”

  “All right,” Sam agreed reluctantly. “But I still think he would have looked better than that stuffed thing.”

  Maura smiled and turned to the rest of the cast and crew. “For tonight, this bathroom is off-limits. Now let's get back on stage. We need to run through the whole show at least once tonight.”

  As the hallway cleared, Nick moved behind Maura and slipped his arm around her waist. “I’ll say this, life with you is never boring.”

  Maura laughed. “Thanks.” She turned in his grasp so that his arm was now around her back. With a smile she said, “You know you can’t hold me this way.”

  “Sorry.” He jumped back, looking embarrassed. “I get it. It's not appropriate around the kids.”

  “No, it's not that.” She started down the hall and grinned over her shoulder at him. “You smell like Oscar.”

  The Gala Performance wasn’t without its bumps. Timmy Reyes did forget his line, but he improvised by shouting out “Happy Birthday, Jesus!” so no one in the audience noticed. And not even Maura knew that one of the wise men misplaced the prop bottle that was supposed to be myrrh. She only discovered it after the show when she found Rachel's solution: a two-liter Pepsi bottle wrapped in gold foil. But those were minor glitches. Without a doubt, the gala was a huge success.

  Maura climbed the front steps to the parsonage, happy but exhausted. It had been a long night. She’d stayed until she thanked the last parent and shook the last hand. Now she wanted nothing more than to fall into bed and sleep for a week.

  She reached for the doorknob, but her hand stopped in midair when she saw a large note taped to the door. “Don’t come in without knocking.” What? Nick had left right after the gala concluded. She assumed he needed to put the finishing touches on his sermon for the next morning.

  She knocked on the door three times and called out, “Hello!”

  “Hold on.” She heard Nick's voice from behind the door. Then footsteps. The door opened just a crack, and Nick pressed his face against it. All she could see was one eye, his nose, and the corner of his mouth.

  “Shut your eyes.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Shut your eyes,” he repeated. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

  Her mild irritation at being kept outside fled, shooed away by a zing of anticipation. She closed her eyes and raised her chin. “Okay.”

  The door creaked open. Nick took both her hands and pulled her toward him. “Step up. Okay, now walk forward.”

  She heard the door shut behind them as they moved farther into the house.

  “Good. Now, stop.” Nick moved behind her, one hand on each shoulder. His breath was warm against her cheek as he whispered in her ear. “Open your eyes.”

  She opened her eyes but immediately closed and opened them again. She had to be sure she wasn’t imagining this.

  In the corner of the living room, across from the old brown couch, stood a Christmas tree. The twinkling lights weren’t quite even, leaving bare spots here and there. The star at the top hung crooked, and it had no ornaments.

  “Say something.” Nick stepped beside her.

  “I … I don’t know what to say.”

  He sighed and dropped his chin to his chest. “I know it doesn’t look like much, but—”

  She grabbed his arm. “No. Don’t apologize. It's wonderful.” She’d never seen a more beautiful tree.

  Nick looked up at her, one corner of his mouth lifting in a shy smile. “You like it?”

  “I love it.” Maura sniffed and wiped at the corner of one eye. “When did you have time?”

  “While you were at the theatre today. Chris and some of the other men gave me a hand.”

  Maura smiled. That explained the placement of the lights. “Are there any ornaments?”

  “Yes and no. Some of the ladies caught wind of what I was doing and tried to donate about a dozen boxes.” He paused, looked at the tree, then looked back at her. “But I know how you feel about hand-me-downs. So I politely told them thank you, but we’d be picking out new decorations. Together.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. Is that okay?”

  She could only nod. Her nose tingled as tears welled in her eyes. But for once, they were happy tears.

  “Good morning.”

  Maura looked over her shoulder, her hot mitt-clad hand still holding the handle of the open oven door. “You’re up early. Did I wake you?”

  He shook his head. “I woke up on my own and couldn’t go back to sleep.”

  “Me neither.” She closed the door and pushed a few buttons on the oven timer. “I thought only little kids did this on Christmas Day.”

  He put his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, his shoulders slightly hunched. “You know, I’ve kind of got that little kid feeling. Just think, we’re completely free today. No appointments, no business meetings, no church events. Just a whole day with nothing on the calendar.”

  That was a big reason for her excitement, as well. The last few days had been non-stop. Between the successful Christmas Gala performance, ornament shopping with Nick, daily operations at the theatre, and all the special services at church, it seemed she was always rushing to the next event. It had been fun, but exhausting. “I’ve been meaning to ask how you managed to not have a church service on Christmas morning.”

  “That miracle was accomplished before I got here.” He took a mug from the cupboard and headed for the pot of fresh coffee. “From what I’m told, about twenty years ago there was a huge storm on Christmas Day. Nobody could get out of their homes. Folks had no choice but to spend the day with their families. Pastor Wesson heard from so many people how it was the best Christmas they ever had, so he decided to make it a tradition.”

  “Here's to Pastor Wesson.” She picked up her own coffee mug from the counter, raising it high. “I think it's wonderful, not only for families, but for all the church workers who deserve a real day of rest.”

  Nick started to raise his mug as well, but he stopped. He stood motionless, his eyes riveted to her as she took a drink of her coffee before she sat the cup down. He put his cup down, too, and walked over to her.

  Without a word he reached out and took her left hand. He rubbed his thumb over the small diamond ring on her finger, and Maura let herself drift away on a wave of memories. They were back at the beach, the surf cheering them on and the warm breeze weaving around them like dancers at a maypole. It didn’t matter that a crunchy white layer of frost coated everything on the other side of the kitchen window. At the moment, she was reliving one of the best days of her life.

  “You’re wearing your engagement ring.” Nick's softly spoken words ended her daydream.

  She hadn’t worn either of her rings since the day she left Granger. When she moved back in with her father, she buried them at the back of a drawer under a pile of sweaters she had little cause to wear. She hadn’t even looked at them until the day she packed up to move back to Granger. But the longer she’d been back and the better acquainted she’d become with her husband, the more often she’d taken the rings out and stared at them, remembering their promises. This morning seemed like the right time to slip one of them on.

  Maura blinked hard a few times. “Merry Christmas.”

  Fingers entwined, Nick lifted her hand to his lips. “This is the best gift you could give me.” He hesitated, a question settling in his eyes. “But you’re only wearing the engagement ring. What exactly does that mean?”

  Good question. It had taken Maura a while to figure out herself. “It means I’m committed to repairing our relationship. I want to be your wife again. But—”

  Nick's brow furrowed. “I hate buts.”

  “I know,” Maura said with a laugh, “but, here it is … We promised the church council th
at until the end of six months, we’d live together platonically, like roommates.”

  He pulled her hand to his chest. “I never had a roommate like you.” The low growl of his words vibrated beneath her palm.

  She wanted nothing more than to throw reason and caution out the window. But at the same time, she was terrified of messing this up. “That's my point. We made a promise to the council, and I’ve got a lot of teenagers watching what I do. I don’t want to give them the wrong impression, either.”

  “What impression is that? The one about it being good for a husband and wife to be together?”

  She tried not to let the sarcastic bite of his statement phase her. “No,” she went on calmly, “the impression that sex fixes broken relationships.”

  His eyes grew wide, and he took a step backward. “That was blunt. So what are you saying?”

  “The six months will be up at the end of January. At that point, I think it would be best if I moved out of here and into the apartment over the theatre.”

  Nick dropped her hand. “Exactly how does that move us forward?”

  “Once we’re not living together, we can officially date and hopefully it won’t be long before I can put on the other half of this ring set.”

  Maura knew her proposal didn’t make any sense to Nick. It barely made sense to her. She was already in the house, after all. If everything went the way she hoped, she’d be moving out and moving back in within a month or so. But in her heart, she knew it was the right decision. Now if only Nick would see it her way.

  If only Nick would say something.

  “You’re not counting, are you?”

  Her question pulled a laugh out of him. Slowly, he shook his head. “No, I’m not. Just thinking. I hate to admit it, but you’re right. This is a weird situation all the way around, isn’t it?” He stepped forward, but stopped abruptly. “Can I still hug you?”

  “Please.” Maura smiled and walked up to him, arms open. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her close. It felt good to be held by him.

  He looked over her head toward the oven. “What are you cooking?”