Castles in the Sand (28 page)

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Authors: Sally John

BOOK: Castles in the Sand
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“He noticed exactly who left the service Sunday morning and didn’t return. He told Susan she needn’t come back home and that the Martha Mavens needn’t return to church.”

There were a few gasps. Tess’ complexion had turned a vivid red. She doubled over as if seeking relief from a stomachache.

Natalie held up a hand. “We can’t let that get a foothold in our hearts. He was upset. We all say things we don’t mean when we’re that upset. It just reveals how serious the situation is. All right. My assistant coach has something to say.”

Mildred smiled. “We do not do this out of anger, but out of love. Love must be foremost in our hearts. It alone must color our words. If we cannot speak graciously about our pastor, we don’t speak about him at all.”

Letting her words sink in, the Prayer Warrior gazed at each pair of eyes in turn before going on. “All right. Thank you. I know you understand what I’m saying. Now, because it is Holy Week, I believe we should gather for informal services elsewhere. I miss the old ways of observing the Passion that Leona and I grew up with, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Holy Saturday services. Our Lord’s last week on earth should be embraced in all its horror and beauty. I haven’t figured out details yet, but the beach here is a perfect place to worship. We don’t need anything but two or more people gathered together in His name.”

Natalie nodded. “That’s it, ladies. What do you think?”

Gwyn turned to Susan. “We need your blessing. After all, you are our pastor’s wife.”

She puffed her cheeks up and blew out a breath. “I don’t want people taking sides.”

Natalie shook her head. “Everyone will take the Starr family side. That’s what we emphasize. We want you three back together again, whole again.”

“Five. There are five of us.”

Natalie immediately inferred her meaning. “Right. The baby and Aidan too.”

“And I don’t want this to be the start of a split in the church.”

“None of us do. We keep it low-key.”

“What about after Friday?”

Natalie stared. All of a sudden Susan, who never questioned a thing, couldn’t stop asking about every detail. “We think Drake will answer that. He’ll call you.”

“What if he doesn’t?”

“Then…then we drop it as a group project, but the Martha Mavens will always take care of you.”

“Don’t boycotters explain their actions? Who will tell Drake what’s going on? How is he to know this is an act of love?”

Natalie waited a beat. She and Mildred had prayed about the right choice. “Rex.”

A knowing glance passed between her and Susan. The brotherly relationship was not exactly one of mutual respect.

Natalie said, “He’s the only one audacious enough to tell Drake the tough stuff.”

“He agreed to do it?”

“Well…he doesn’t know about it yet.”

“Then we’d better pray.” Susan smiled. It seemed at last the joyful bird had roosted.

“Is that a blessing I hear?”

She nodded.

“Amen.” Natalie looked at the others. “How about everyone else?”

Leona said, “I’m in.”

“So am I.” Gwyn nodded.

Emmylou stroked her abdomen and exhaled through rounded lips. A Braxton Hicks moment. “Me…too.”

Tess sat up straight. “I apologize for what I said about Drake earlier. I apologize for my own sinful pride. My class should have boycotted me years ago.”

Natalie stared.

Tess twisted her head to the right, then to the left, yanked on her blazer lapels, and cleared her throat. The director was getting down to business. “I’ve harbored concern about our pastor in recent months. He has become too full of himself. Although I am sure he would retract what he said about the Marthas, one does not banish—not even momentarily in anger—the teacher of a two hundred-member women’s Bible study class, many of whom have influential husbands. There will be fallout. This plan is absolutely ridiculous and probably nowhere near biblical in principle, but I see no other recourse.” She paused. “My core ladies will hear of it tonight.”

Natalie nodded somberly. Enlisting the support of the Martha Mavens wasn’t exactly a sweet victory.

Forty-Eight

By the time the Martha Mavens had finished praying together, Susan’s fears were long gone. Every aspect of the bizarre situation had been presented to the King of kings. She knew in her heart that He would be glorified. Nothing else mattered.

“Amen.” Mildred smiled. “So be it.”

Pure peace lit the elderly prayer warrior’s face. Everyone else appeared slightly dazed.

Emmylou said, “Wow. He really is here, isn’t He?”

Soft laughter rippled around the circle of women. Susan was convinced of His presence because for the first time in her life she had prayed out loud unself-consciously.

Natalie stood. “Is anyone else hungry?”

Plans were made for dinner. Natalie, Gwyn, and Tess left to buy takeout Chinese. Emmylou needed a nap and went to a bedroom. Leona busied herself in the kitchen and set the table.

Susan slid to the rug and sat next to Mildred’s feet.

“You’re humming, Susan.” Mildred leaned over and touched her cheek still damp from tears.

“Am I?”
Jesus Christ is risen today, Alleluia! The words revealed themselves now. Our triumphant holy day, Alleluia!

“I saw you in the choir, dearie.” She winked. “You haven’t participated for years.”

“I started singing again.”

“God is moving in you. He is faithful. He gave you that voice for His purposes.”

Susan reached up to Mildred’s lap and held on to her hand. “Am I betraying my husband?”

“On the contrary, you may be saving him.” She adjusted her glasses. “I haven’t wanted to tell you, but it’s time you knew. The rumblings began long before yesterday’s incident. We’ve heard it among the seniors for quite a while. Tess named it when she said Drake is becoming too full of himself. With the phenomenal growth Holy Cross Fellowship has experienced in recent years, it’s understandable. But how long will it be acceptable? Last night Leona and I fellowshipped with a group made up of all ages. We overheard disturbing comments. They were just murmured. There was no railing against our pastor. It was obvious, however, that his announcement left a bitter taste in many a mouth and not for the reason he would imagine. No one thinks less of him because of Kenzie’s situation.”

A chill ran down Susan’s spine. “He’s lost his way.”

“We all do in some way or other. His digression is a little more public than ours. He feels if he admits it, we will abandon him. I want to show him the very opposite is true.”

“I should…”
be by his side
. Another chill froze the words in her throat. If she were by his side, he would need her to support him. In the past, that always meant agreeing with him, no questions asked. If she dared voice her own opinion, he could not accept it. His resentment toward her relegated her to the category of…of— “Mildred, I feel like a
concubine!
Like my only purpose in life is to…is to…make him feel good! I can’t go back and support him by telling him he’s right.”

She patted Susan’s hand. “Shh, now. God will carry you through this. We prayed for Drake to receive God’s healing touch. When that’s revealed, you two will be restored in a healthy marriage.”

“I can’t see that. I see myself asking Rex for the name of a divorce lawyer!”

“That seeing is not from our Lord.”

“I wish I had your faith.”

“You do, dearie. You do. It simply takes practice to recognize it and to keep leaning on it.” Mildred smiled. “Now just quiet yourself.”

Susan closed her eyes and Mildred smoothed her hair.

“Give that awful thought to Jesus. He’ll throw it away. He doesn’t want you to have it.”

I don’t want it either, Lord. I don’t want to even consider divorce a possibility
.

“Think on things that are true and honorable and upright and pure.”

Only Jesus fit that description. She thought what a beautiful thing it would be if instead of Mildred, He sat in that chair and caressed her head.

After a few moments, Mildred said, “What do you hear?”

She heard what she’d been hearing at the beach house all along. “Music.”

Mildred chuckled. “Zephaniah 3:17.”

Susan looked up at her.

“‘He will rejoice over you with happy song.’”

Susan smiled, listened for the pitch, and then began to sing aloud. “‘Hymns of praise, then, let us sing, Alleluia! Unto Christ our heavenly King, Alleluia!’”

Forty-Nine

“You okay?” Pepper braked the van at a stoplight and eyed Kenzie in the passenger’s seat.

“Sure.” The girl gazed straight ahead, her voice a monotone.

“You don’t have to do this. I mean, a slumber party with three middle-aged women at the beach on a Tuesday night?”

“Achoo!” She turned to Pepper, a wide grin spread across her face.

“I guess that means I’ve already annoyingly voiced this opinion once or twice.”

“Uh-huh.”

She moaned. “I am supposed to be salt! Why can’t I be salt, Lord? Doesn’t a rose by any other name smell as sweet? Doesn’t salt by any other name—even by the name of
pepper
—doesn’t it preserve and make things taste just right?”

“Light’s green.”

Pepper drove, tortoise speed along the crowded boulevard near the beach. It was the week of spring break for hordes of youth who descended upon Southern California. Parking anywhere near the house was out of the question. Parking within two miles of it was impossible.

“Pepper, are you okay?”

“Sure.”

“You’re making that mumbo-jumbo sound.”

“Oh, man! Is nothing sacred? How do you know about my mumbo-jumbo noise? Aidan doesn’t even know about it!”

Kenzie giggled. “Actually, he does. Mick told him years ago how when you start doing it, that means you’re up to something.”

“Well, I am not up to anything.”

“You don’t have to do this either. I mean, a slumber party with my mom and aunt—two women you’ve just met—and me?”

She inched the van forward. “Yeah, I do have to do this. My shipmate called.”

“From the Grandmas out of Wedlock Boat?”

“Grandmas and Aunts. Besides, it sounds like fun. A night away from the three little ones. Pizza, popcorn, sappy videos—if your aunt remembers to bring a television—and girl talk. Sign me up.”

“I’m not too sure Mom knows how to make girl talk.”

“Maybe she’s ready to try. My concern is that I don’t want to intrude. I want her to be able to make girl talk with you.” A new sensitivity toward her chafing, peppery personality had mushroomed overnight. She blamed it on the fast. Aidan’s incessant fake sneezing the previous day could have had a hand in it as well.

“You won’t intrude. My mom really likes you.”

“Well, there is that boat thing we have in common.”

“Do you like my mom?” Kenzie resumed her monotone delivery, a hint again that something bothered her about the night’s outing.

“Yes, I like her.”

“I’m not sure if I do.”

Pepper waited for more. When none came, she said, “Understandable. I don’t like Mick when he doesn’t do what I need him to do. You’ve been through a rough few months when you needed your mom in ways she wasn’t able to meet.”

“The thing is, I’m not sure if I can trust her.”

There it was, the thing that bothered Kenzie.

The comment hung in the air. Pepper didn’t want to touch it. She refused to get between Susan and her daughter.

At least not any more than she already was.

Did Susan understand that Kenzie could not trust her? Was that why she invited Pepper to the party? Because she needed a buffer?

Yeah. It made sense. Susan needed some salt…to make things taste just right.

Okay. She could live with that.

Standing in the beach house kitchen, Kenzie gawked at her mother. “A boycott? Are you crazy?”

Pepper contorted her lips to keep from laughing out loud. The girl said exactly what she would have said if she weren’t so busy trying to be salt.

Susan turned off the stove top burner under a whistling pot and grinned. “I’ve definitely gone round the bend. Shall we sit outside? Spring is in the air.”

“Dad will never put up with it.” Kenzie picked up a plate of freshly baked peanut butter cookies.

“Isn’t that the whole point of a boycott, though?” She poured hot water into waiting mugs. “He doesn’t have a choice but to put up with it.”

“He’ll go ballistic in that subtle way of his.”

“Probably.”

The three of them carried mugs of tea to the patio table and sat less than twenty feet from the boardwalk. Pepper glanced toward it. Talk about crazy. Spring break was undoubtedly at its peak. Throngs of mostly young people jammed the pavement. Bikers and blade skaters crept along on their wheels. Joggers shuffled in place waiting for a chance to get around walkers. Although the sun waned and the air chilled, scantily clad sunbathers lingered on the sand.

Kenzie held her head at an angle, as if in disbelief of her mother’s news. “All the Marthas are in on this?”

“Mildred is the ringleader. She suggested it to Aunt Nattie in the first place. Even before Sunday.”

Kenzie broke apart a cookie. “You mean they were riled up before his little speech?”

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