Elena Undone (7 page)

“I heard a little rumor that you were skipping the protest. That can’t be true, now, can it, Elena?”

Elena appeared distracted as much for effect as for real. “I...I’m nont>I...It sure.”

“It’s not enough to support Barry on the sidelines, Elena.”

“Millie,” Diana interjected, “Elena does so much for the church, I don’t think it’s fair—”

“Oh, it’s very clear God’s got your back, Elena,” she said, then, turning to Diana, “and that he shines a special light on Elena to keep this place running so smoothly.” Then back to Elena, “But there comes a time you have to commit your faith and put it to real work.”

Elena glanced uncertainly from Millie to Diana who valiantly jumped in for her. “Millie, you know Elena runs the Kinder program Saturday mornings.”

But Elena didn’t want Diana to bear Millie’s wrath later and piped in, “It’s not just that I’ve already got commitments this Saturday, Millie.”

Elena stood at the desk to give herself more confidence. “To be honest, I...I’m not sure if your interpretation is correct on this.”

“Are you doubting the very word of our Bible, Mrs. Winters?”

More people were gathering in the hallway, sensing a catfight. Elena did not want to engage Millie, but she also refused to be bowled over by her. “Well, you know as well as I do that the Bible was written thousands of years ago, from a man’s point of view—I mean—somehow we have to look at these passages with some kind of context to the times—”

“That’s just the kind of mealy-mouthed thinking that’s got us into this place—” Garret, Millie’s favorite minion, had joined in Millie’s fight.

Diana confronted Garret. “Elena is entitled to her opinion.”

But Millie walked past them and got right up into Elena’s face. “Not when it’s at the expense of our safety! You are the wife of a pastor. Your husband works every day to spread God’s fine word and what do you do? You put ‘interpretation’ into question? That’s the oldest trick in the book.”

Elena stood, trying to back her way out of the room but Millie, sensing weakness, went in for the kill. “They are tearing us apart with all their marriage talk and liberal judges ruling willy-nilly in their favor. Oh, no! We are not going to stand by and allow it, Mrs. Winters. Shame on you. Shame on you for undermining—”

But Elena could not bear to hear another word because all she saw was crazy. She was vaguely aware that Barry was just outside in the hall and was now jumping in as well.

“Millie, please—I appreciate your support...thank you.” And then moving to Elena, “Come here, dear.’’

But the room had started to spin.

“I...I think I need some air.” She cleared theapp cleare huddle of congregants as she heard Barry continue to apologize for her. “You know she’s been so tired and overworked lately. I’m sorry if she’s offended anyone...Diana, can you help the ladies get squared away?”

*

Peyton sat in her black slacks, her blouse sleeves rolled up, blazer crumpled off the side of Wave’s couch, and deep into her second glass of wine.

“I don’t think staying shit-faced is the answer here,” Peyton decided.

“I know, my dear, but at least it’ll ease the pain for the time being.”

“No…no more.” She raised a hand against Wave’s attempt to refill her glass. “I want to clear my head.”

“Whatever for?”

“I…I need some air, okay?”

“Sure. Let’s go for a drive.”

“Alone.”

“Why don’t I go with you?”

“Wave, you know how much I love you…but I just need… just need to get my thoughts in order…or just out of my head altogether. I need some time alone.”

Wave wrinkled her nose in dissatisfaction. “Okay then, but as soon as you get home, call me?”

“Sure.”

*

Elena was packing the remainder of the filing boxes in her car outside the church when she heard Barry walking up behind her.

“That was quite a performance.”

Elena kept her back to him.

“You know better than to tangle with Millie—”

But when he moved so that he could see her face, his own face fell and he quickly changed topic.

“Elena...sweetie...did you...”

Elena nodded, put her head down in shame. Barry came to her, put an arm around her.

“When?”

“I...started.” She cleared her throat in an effort not to cry. She would not have any of these people see any sign of weakness in her. “This morning.”

Barry took her in his arms, held her tightly, sighed, “Oh sweetheart.” He continued to hold her gently, kissed her forehead.

“I...I don’t know how much more of this—”

“Shhhh…come here.” He held her close to him and she knew he was trying to take charge and be there for her.

“Look Barry,” Elena said, “I know how much you want this—but do you think we’re trying too hard? Maybe…after Sar…you know…maybe this is just not meant to be.”

He raised his voice ever so slightly. “Maybe we should pray together—really pray to God about bringing us our baby—”

Elena pushed him away, her eyes angry as she looked into him, trying to understand what he was doing. Had he not heard a word of what she had just said? And then she felt it. Sensed Millie’s presence, glimpsed her watching them from the open door of the sanctuary, and she got it. How dare he perform at her expense. She pushed him aside and walked from the church, got into the car and drove away.

*

“Rarely do we get the opportunity to witness the art in love...but that is what we all desire...not just to be loved, but to be loved in that all-encompassing, Heathcliff on-the-moors one-true-love, soul mate way... And rarely are we prepared for it when it happens to come by.”

Tyler Montague, stylish and striking in a dapper white suit, organza cravat, and several bejeweled accessories (the assumption could easily be made that he was gay), spoke with absolute conviction into his flip camera, performing with panache his sermon of love. He considered a moment, then turned his camera back on.

“Perhaps you’ve been trying to inject meaning into your life, endlessly jamming your day planner full. Some of you are downright fortunate, and already understand what I’m telling you—perhaps you are one of those rare and fortunate few who find it very early in life. For others of you, your life might be at its most grim.” He wagged a finger. “Fear not. It will come. Soul mates find one another. And, while many kinds of soul mates exist, what we’re all really looking for is the Twin Flame. The ultimate love connection—”

As if to confirm random and unlikely, Lily, a handsome, Armani-clad executive, entered Tyler’s studio cum Soulemetry store at that moment. Even though she looked completely out of place when she walked in, she owned the room, and strolled very deliberately to Tyler, took his head in her hands and planted a deeply soulful kiss upon his mouth.

“Babe…I’m about to snap up that Internet company that’s been cut off at its knees.” Lily spoke with pride and relish. “Wish me luck.”

“If they only knew what a pussycat you really are.” Tyler gazed at his wife with adoration. She nuzzled him endearingly, softly, then quickly put her game face back on—and went off to win.

Tyler returned to his editing bay where he was narrating another of his many soul mate stories for his weekly Soulemetry webisode when Elena walked in.

“He’s all yours.” Lily patted Elena’s arm as she walked out.

Tyler jumped up dramatically. “Gorgeous! Wait till you hear this story—” but stopped as soon as he saw Elena’s forlorn expression.

“Or maybe not. Let’s go, kitten. You need a drink.”

Elena loved seeing Tyler’s face. He wasn’t only handsome, his face was endlessly pleasant with his square jaw, always perfect close-cropped hair, and his blue-gray eyes that radiated love, warmth and humor, and were constantly twinkling as if he had a joke he’d just recalled. No matter what was going on in her life at the moment, when she was with her dearest friend in the world she felt a loosening of all the barriers, as if all the roles she played in her life, wife, mother, pastor’s right-hand, church administrator—fell away, and she could simply be Elena.

Tyler led Elena to his favorite part of his courtyard garden, what he referred to as his sanctuary—for his beloved religion— Soulemetry, which he had founded ten years ago.

“Soulemetry,” Tyler had informed both her and Barry all those many years ago, “is a philosophy—a religion, if you will—based on the premise that there is a soul mate for everyone out there and it is my calling to help people find theirs. What’s more important than love, Elena?” he had asked her back then. “True love.”

She had met Tyler right after she and Barry had started dating, fifteen years ago now. Tyler had also attended the Royal Academy on scholarship. He was extremely well known on campus, and had a universal reputation for excellence in academics and likeability. Everyone seemed to know him, and all who knew him loved him, or so it seemed to Elena. She had been thrilled to be cast in a supporting role in a contemporary play Tyler was directing. Within days she, along with everyone else, found Tyler to be a genius. He was easily the most talented student in their circles, a brilliant actor, phenomenal singer and the best director any of them had worked with. He had the fire, passion and desire to make it big.

So it was almost devastating, to both Elena and Barry, when they met up with him several years later in Los Angeles after having relocated from New York to discover that Tyler had decided to give it all up.

Tyler had moved west two years before Elena and Barry. Within months he had figured out a way onto the inside track of the LA entertainment machine, and had once again established himself seemingly overnight with a noteworthy amount of success in very little time.

It was clear to Elena that Barry couldn’t help but begrudge Tyler his success, even though he tried to act as graciously as he could manage about Tyler’s good fortune. Barry’s career amounted to little more than one unrequited audition after another, while Elena worked part time and took care of Nash, hoping Barry would get a paying role. Scrimping and saving from the beginning, Elena Barning, Elearned the fine art of budgeting their household and living expenses within the constraints of very little. She took her joy in Nash and tried to stay as positive as she could with Barry about his career. Even after Tyler gave Barry all his contacts, Barry couldn’t seem to hit his stride. Tyler was just the opposite. It was effortless for him. Roles, offers— everything an entertainer aspired to simply fell in his lap.

So when Tyler sat them down over one long dinner and several bottles of wine to explain that he had had an “epiphany” and that this “entertainment stuff simply didn’t fulfill him,” that it didn’t speak to him in any way, and that he could no longer make his life’s work be about all this “utterly ridiculous, overwrought, take-one’s-self-with-waay-too-much-seriousness BS…” they couldn’t help but be stunned.

“But what will you do?” Elena had asked.

“Yeah,” Barry added, although Elena had noticed a marked sharpness to his tone. “How in the hell you going to put food on the table, Ty?”

“Soulemetry.” Tyler had answered simply but with complete conviction. “The religion of love.”

They were both taken aback.

Within weeks, Tyler had begun the practice of his Soulemetry religion in the basement of his house and ten years later he had a client list that rivaled any studio head’s Rolodex along with the most beautifully crafted and serene setting for his Soul-Blim-In-Nation Store; the interior of which was covered in every conceivable soul mate artifact from ancient runes and intricately carved statues to emblems Tyler had created. The exterior was every bit as idyllic, filled with roses—the rose being “the flower of love”—of every breed, strain and variety, along with marble pillars, ornately tiled trellises and billowy fabrics, all artfully chosen to create a sense of harmony, peace and serenity, for Tyler was fond of reminding everyone, “It was only when the heart stilled itself that it could prepare to allow love in.”

It was equally striking that Tyler, whom everyone believed to be gay, came back from Paris—the city of love—on one of his many “love treks” with the extremely tough and fully unexpected love of his life: Lily Aubergine. The tall, slender, endlessly elegant Lily was of French descent but with a very American if not heavily arched north Maine accent. She was as cold as Tyler was warm, as competitive as Tyler was generous. While Tyler’s eyes beamed warmth, hers seared with an intensity born of the need to win.

Equally baffling for both Elena and Barry was that Lily did not want children. Tyler’s only other obsession in life was to have a child. Since Nash’s birth it had been the one other constant that Tyler had spoken about, until Lily informed them all at Nash’s two-year birthday celebration that she planned to consider Nash the son she’d never have. It had been well after all the other guests had left, Nash had been tucked into bed, and the four of them were finishing champagne that Lily informed Tyler, as if presenting a board report: “I have no intention of ever ruining my figure with childbearing. Besides I have no time for squalling infants. I deal with them all day long at the office.”