The Pastor's Wife

by Jennifer AlLee

  “A Christmas casserole.”

  Nick leaned back, his brows raised. “A casserole? I thought you hated casseroles.”

  “Think of it as a Christmas miracle. Besides, it's a recipe I got from Rachel, and there's not a noodle in it. It's eggs, onion, mushrooms, cheese … it's more like a big baked omelet.”

  “I see. Well, while we’re waiting for it to finish baking, I’ve got something for you.”

  He took Maura's hand and pulled her into the living room to the Christmas tree.

  “Have a seat.” He motioned at the couch and knelt down, reaching beneath the tree. “Merry Christmas.”

  He handed her a large box wrapped in bright green paper and sporting a big red bow. From the abundance of tape, she could tell Nick had wrapped it himself, making it all the more special. She held it for a while, relishing her first Christmas present from him.

  When she couldn’t wait any longer, she tugged off the bow and ripped the paper away, uncovering a brown packing box. Pulling open the box flaps, she was greeted by the sight of Styrofoam packing peanuts and bubble wrap. She tried not to make a mess, but the peanuts overflowed the sides and spilled on the floor around her as she pulled a carefully wrapped object from the box.

  Her breath caught in her chest. Nick, still kneeling on the floor, grinned like a little boy who had just caught a frog. She removed a piece of tape and slowly unwound the bubble wrap, revealing the amazing gift. The dainty teacup she held in her hand was a perfect match: white porcelain with delicate ivy leaves and vines curving and curling around the rim. It was her mother's china pattern. An exact duplicate of the cup Nick had accidentally broken so many years before.

  “How did you ever find this?”

  “It wasn’t easy. I called the manufacturer and found out they don’t make that pattern anymore. Thank God for eBay.”

  This time, Maura didn’t even try to hold back the tears. They ran down her face, unabashed and unchecked. Nick took the cup from her hand and placed it safely on an end table. He got up from the floor and sat on the couch beside her, drawing her to him.

  “I know I’ve hurt you, Maura.” His voice was low and gentle in her ear as he rocked her, stroking her hair. “I put everybody else in front of you, and I drove you away.”

  The tears flowed harder now as thoughts assaulted her mind. It's not all your fault. I haven’t told you everything. You still don’t know the whole truth.

  She had to tell him. They could only start a new life together if they built it on honesty and trust. No good could come from keeping secrets. But at the same time, telling him wouldn’t change anything. It could never bring back what they’d lost. It could only serve to drive a wedge between them.

  The truth hit her like a chandelier falling from the ceiling. The reason she ran, why she left without telling him the truth, wasn’t only because of her anger toward Nick. She ran because of her own failings. Her own mistakes. And her fear that if Nick found out what had really happened, he’d leave her first.

  She clung to Nick, pushing the thoughts aside, not ready to deal with reality. She couldn’t tell him. Not now. They needed a fresh start, not another trip into the past. Sniffling, she pulled away, swiping the back of her hand across her eyes.

  Nick took a handkerchief from his pocket and gently wiped the remaining tears from her face. “Can you forgive me?”

  The simple act of service almost undid her again. But she smiled and answered, “I already have.”

  He drew her back to him, and she let herself settle into the shelter of his arms. Yes, she had forgiven Nick. Now she needed to find a way to forgive herself.

  17

  And one last signature here.”

  Wendell Crowley pushed another piece of paper in front of Maura. She lost track of how many times she’d signed her name, but with this, the last of a seemingly unending stack of forms, Maura officially became the legal owner of the Music Box Theatre, ending the current chapter of her life.

  “Very good.” Wendell picked up the document and added it to the stack on the side of his desk. “Pastor, if you’d be so kind, I need your signature here, and then we’re done.”

  Excitement built within Maura as she watched Nick sign his one and only form. Just a little over seven months ago she’d sat in this room, thoroughly uncomfortable and wanting nothing more than to leave and get away from Nick. Today, she again itched to leave, but for a totally different reason.

  Wendell handed Nick a check, grinning widely. “Congratulations to both of you on your inheritance. I’m sure Miss Hattie is looking down and smiling today.”

  Maura held a bulging manila folder containing the deed to the theatre and copies of all the papers she’d just signed. She had what she’d worked so hard for, and Nick had his donation for the church. Obviously, Miss Hattie had wanted to see the two of them together again, and Maura thought the woman would be happy to know she was close to getting what she wanted too.

  “It's a good day for all of us,” Nick said.

  “Yes, it is.” Wendell clasped his hands together in front of his chest, rocking forward on the balls of his feet. “What are your plans now, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  Maura hesitated. She knew what he wanted to hear; that she and Nick were living happily ever after. She hated to disappoint Wendell, but she didn’t want to mislead him, either. “I’m moving out of the parsonage and into the apartment above the theatre.”

  The frown that took over the lawyer's face was so severe Maura feared he might be in pain. “Move out? But I thought it's been going well between you.”

  “It has,” Nick said. “We’re doing great. But we made some promises when Maura moved into the parsonage, and we need to keep them.”

  “And we need some space while we work out the rest of our issues. But look, we’re engaged.” She felt silly calling it that, but didn’t know how else to describe their situation.

  Maura wiggled her ring finger in front of Wendell and his smile rushed back.

  “Fine, fine. One step at a time.” He ushered them out of his office. “Remember, I’m only a phone call away if you need anything. Now go enjoy your day.” He shut the door behind them.

  Maura pushed the down button on the elevator, trying not to laugh.

  “Engaged?” Nick asked. “How can we be engaged when we’re already married?”

  “I don’t know.” A giggle bubbled from her lips. “How could we live together when we were separated? Face it, you’re in the middle of one crazy, mixed-up relationship.”

  “I’ll say.” He kissed her on the forehead just as the elevator doors slid open. Shaking his head, he stepped inside the car. “It's a good thing I love you, woman.”

  Maura hugged herself, pressing the folder against her chest. Yes, it was a good thing he loved her. Because now she knew she’d never stopped loving him.

  “Tell me again why we’re doing this?”

  Maura ran smack into Rachel who had stopped in the middle of the stairway to ask her question. Shifting the box in her arms, Maura blew out a burst of air to move the bangs drooping over her left eye.

  “I’ll be happy to answer all your questions, again, but only after we get these boxes into the apartment.”

  Rachel frowned but continued up the steps, muttering something about how she wished they’d thought to fit an elevator into the renovation budget.

  Despite the fact that her leg muscles protested the many trips up and down the stairs, and her best friend thought she was nuts, happiness surged through Maura like an electric current. She and Nick were creating a strong foundation on which to build their relationship. And now that she was out of the parsonage and in her own place, they could move on to the next phase.

  Once inside the apartment, the two women set their loads down and sighed almost simultaneously. Turning to Maura, Rachel put her hands on her hips. “So?”

  So. Maura looked around. Eclectic furnishings filled the room along with boxes she needed to unpack. The pale yello
w walls were perfectly complemented by the red, yellow, and blue plaid couch in the living room area. Paintings of seascapes adorned the walls, reminiscent of the beaches of her childhood. Some of the items were new, some she’d bought second-hand, but she had chosen each piece with care. This was her new home. Even though she missed the idea of being around Nick as much, the thought still excited her. Finally, she had a place in Granger that was all her own.

  Collapsing into a dark red, overstuffed chair, she motioned for Rachel to sit. “I don’t think there's anything I can add to what I’ve already said. You know why I had to move out of Nick's place.”

  “I know why you think you had to move out, but I still don’t agree with you.” Rachel pushed off her tennis shoes with her toes and curled her stocking feet up under her on the couch.

  Maura laid her head against the back of the chair. “Objection noted. Which makes it even nicer that you helped me out today. Thank you.”

  Rachel waved the compliment away. “I’m always saying I need to get more aerobic exercise. You just saved me the trouble of taking up jogging. But don’t think you’re going to distract me. Are you and Nick getting back together or not?”

  Leave it to Rachel to forgo any bush beating. There was no point in trying to dodge the subject any longer. “That's the plan.”

  “So what's the point of moving you out just to move you back in again later? Although I must admit, this place is a lot homier than the parsonage.” Rachel looked around the room. “It's got your touch all over it.”

  Maura smiled. Despite all the time they spent at the theatre, Rachel hadn’t been in the upstairs apartment before. Maura had purposely done most of the work herself. The only other people who’d been there were the men who installed the new carpet and kitchen tile. Now, sitting here with her first official guest, satisfaction draped itself around Maura. The look of the place, the feel, was exactly what she wanted.

  “In fact,” Rachel continued, “I can’t imagine you wanting to move out of here and back into the parsonage.”

  “That would have been true before. But I’ve come to realize the house isn’t nearly as important as who's in it.” Maura believed what she said. Still, there was a piece of her that wished she and Nick could live together here, in her brand new apartment. It was about the same size as the parsonage, and since it wasn’t right next to the church, people would be less likely to drop by unexpectedly. But if Nick hadn’t wanted to offend the congregation by redecorating, he surely wouldn’t want to risk moving out altogether. And that was okay with her. She’d gotten used to the parsonage. Even the hideous tavern picture in the living room had grown on her.

  Now she just had to convince Rachel that she wasn’t crazy.

  “Trust me. It makes sense to do it this way.”

  “You’re sure?” Rachel pressed.

  “Positive.”

  “Okay,” Rachel nodded. “That's the last you’ll hear from me on the subject. Just promise me one thing.”

  “What's that?”

  “When it's time for you to move back in with Nick, you’ll hire professional movers.”

  Maura leaned forward, joining her friend in a high-five. “Done.”

  Pulsating water beat down on Maura's back, easing the muscles in her shoulders. The last few weeks in her apartment had been wonderful. Between work, church, and dates with Nick, her days were full. It was such a treat to have a place to come home to at night and completely relax. The only drawback was lugging groceries up the stairs. Judging from her aching muscles, she’d done a little too much shopping the day before.

  Turning toward the stream of water to wash her face, Maura caught sight of the plastic breast self-exam reminder hanging from the showerhead. She usually did her self-exam on the first of the month, but she’d been so busy she’d forgotten, promising each day to do it tomorrow. Frowning, she realized that tomorrow had come and gone almost two weeks ago.

  “Get it over with now,” she muttered.

  She raised her left arm over her head and began manipulating her breast tissue with her right hand. As she did so, her mind wandered, ticking off all the items on her to-do list. Granger Community Hospital had booked a cardiac care seminar at the theatre the day before Valentine's Day. She had to remember to check with Rachel and make sure any artery-clogging snacks were removed from the candy counter and stowed out of sight during the event. And there was the youth group …

  She lowered her left arm, raising her right and repeated the procedure in reverse.

  The youth group had grown to the point where Lainie wanted to refurbish their room at church. It would be nice not only to paint, but to put in some high-tech audiovisual equipment and comfortable places for the kids to lounge. And maybe a snack machine. It seemed there was no way to get them to stop eating in the room, so the group might as well make a little money off it. And then …

  Maura stopped short, pulled abruptly out of her thoughts and back to the present. She’d done a breast self-exam every month since she turned twenty-five. She knew the feel and texture of every inch of herself. But today, something was different.

  Something was wrong.

  Slowly, she moved her hand backwards. Her fingertips gently kneaded her skin, feeling the tissue beneath. There it was. It was small, but she felt it.

  A lump.

  She took a deep breath, but the room felt completely devoid of oxygen. She reached behind her, fumbling until she found the lever to turn off the water. Putting a hand against the tile wall, she steadied herself, forcing herself to breathe normally.

  Be calm. Be calm.

  Repeating the phrase over and over, she pushed the curtain aside, grabbed a towel and stepped out of the shower. She dried off, combed her hair, and got dressed, concentrating on each normal activity, putting off thinking about what she’d just found.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, she looked at the pictures on her nightstand. She and Nick on their wedding day. Nick, I wish you were with me now. Her mother and father on their wedding day.

  Mom.

  Be calm. Be calm.

  Her mother had made her promise to take care of herself. “When you’re old enough, do the breast exams and have your mammograms done. If they find it early, it's treatable.” But her mother's cancer hadn’t been found early. And Maura had watched it kill her.

  She couldn’t be calm. She couldn’t will herself to hold it together. She couldn’t do this on her own.

  Lord, help me. Lord, help me.

  Maura felt the panic subsiding. What had she read? Eight out of ten lumps end up being benign. Early detection is the key. These were good things to hold on to. She couldn’t just sit there any longer. She had to do something.

  She reached for the phone to call Nick's cell. She stopped in mid-dial, pushing the end button and breaking the connection. They’d had a wonderful, quiet dinner together the night before, talking about everything, including their schedules. He had meetings all morning. It wouldn’t do any good to call him now.

  Opening a small drawer in her nightstand she pulled out an address book. Tears stung Maura's eyes as she stared down at the name on the page. Painful memories assaulted her, drawing her back to another time, another phone call.

  With shaking fingers, she dialed the number for Dr. Harris, her old OB/GYN.

  18

  Dr. Harris stepped back from the examining room table. “You can sit up, Maura.”

  The paper beneath her crackled as she sat up and swung her legs over the side. Pulling the sides of the flimsy gown together in front of her, Maura watched the doctor scribbling on her chart.

  After what seemed like an eternity, Dr. Harris put the folder down and turned back to Maura. “You were right to come in. There is a lump. But I don’t want you to panic.” The doctor hurried on, her voice calm and reassuring. “The lump you found is extremely small. It could be nothing more than a cyst. But we do have to take it seriously.”

  Maura tried to smile, but her mouth wouldn’t cooperate
. Instead, she merely nodded.

  Dr. Harris patted her on the shoulder. “Why don’t you get dressed, and we’ll talk about what happens next.”

  The doctor left the room and closed the door behind her. Maura didn’t move. Instead, she thought about how she hated doctors’ offices and hospitals.

  Maura slid off the table and reached for her clothes. Poor Dr. Harris. She was a sweet person. In her late fifties, the woman had the demeanor of a favorite aunt, the kind who always has candy in her purse. But she’d been present at the worst moment in Maura's life, and Maura had never wanted to see her again. Yet here she was.

  A few moments later she sat on a couch in the doctor's office. Sitting in a chair beside her, Dr. Harris explained the tests ahead of Maura.

  “We should have the results of the mammogram and sonogram back in a week.”

  Maura took in a deep breath. In a week, she’d know one way or the other. She could do this.

  “Thank you, Dr. Harris. That helps.”

  The doctor smiled and her eyes crinkled at the corners beneath her blue-rimmed glasses. “I’m glad. But I can’t emphasize enough how important a support system is at a time like this. You need someone to be with you when you go for the tests and while you wait for the results. You are in for a very stressful time.”

  Maura bit down on her lower lip. Rachel would drop everything if she asked. But Rachel had her own family to worry about. And she needed to run the theatre while Maura had the tests done. That left only one other person who Maura could ask to take on such a responsibility.

  As if reading her mind, Dr. Harris sat forward, her hands clasped in front of her. “You need to talk to your husband.”

  Maura opened her mouth to speak, but quickly clamped her lips shut. What was there to say? In the last few months, she and Nick had made huge strides towards mending their relationship. But now, in a time of crisis, all her old fears rushed back. Could she trust him to be there for her? When it came right down to it, Maura still didn’t know if she could depend on him during a crisis.