Forgivin' Ain't Forgettin' (28 page)
The men signaled acceptance of Clement’s message with nods.
“So do you have some words of wisdom for us single men?” someone asked.
Someone else moaned, “Don’t get him started, man.”
“Well, I’m going to get started,” Clement said, his voice beginning to rise like it did when he was in the pulpit. “I’ve got a homework assignment for you single brothers who label yourselves men of God.”
“Take your time, now, Preacher,” Houston said.
“I want you to go home, get on your knees for more than three minutes a day, and ask the Lord who you’re supposed to be dating”—Clement looked at no one in particular—“because I’m sick of some of you running around the congregation from woman to woman like you don’t know no better.”
“Some of the women in the church are chasing
us,
” Durante was quick to say.
And Clement was quick to jump into Durante’s gaze. “The chase will stop if you plant your feet firm in God’s Word, look that fast sister in the face, and tell her and the
devil
in her to get away from you.”
Amens echoed from several directions.
“Let me tell you how God operates,” Clement said. He was in sermon mode now, voice charging up and down in all the right spots and eyes focused on the congregation. “God doesn’t need to have you experimenting with a bunch of different females to see which one is right for you.” Joel handed Clement a paper towel so he could wipe his brow. Clement said, “Thank you,” and surged on. “Our God already knows who you need, and He’s just waiting for you to get serious and consult with Him about who she is. And until the Lord reveals her to you, you should be fervently asking God to get you ready to be the kind of husband she’sgoing to need.” Clement creased the towel and used it. “While you’re waiting, you should be fasting and praying for her, although you don’t know who she is yet. Now, I’m not saying that once you marry her, everything is going to be perfect. But if you’ve prayed and got the right one, at least you’ll have the peace of knowing that no matter what the problem, this is the one God gave you, and He doesn’t make mistakes.” The volume of his tone decreased but not the sobriety. “And, my good brothers, please stop getting
caught up
in the packaging. Some of you are so focused on looks only, you gonna live out hell on earth because of it. Just because a gift is wrapped in what you think is perfect paper doesn’t mean that what’s inside the box is good for you. So you better take time and get to know the character of that woman before you run with her to the altar. Proverbs 31 says what?”
Trevor answered,
“A woman that feareth the Lord . . . shall be praised.”
“We’re not to base a woman’s value on the size of her body.” Some of the men started laughing. “I’m serious, fellows,” Clement said, ending the laughter. “Not too long ago, I asked a brother who came to me for advice to name some of the qualities he was looking for in a wife. The dummy started out by telling me he wanted her to be at least a D-cup. I said, ‘Young man, you better hope she can get a
prayer through
in the time of trial and tribulation.’” Clement met as many eyes as he could with one sweep of the room. “I’m the man I am today because Vivaca intercedes in prayer for me.”
“But for real, Pastor,” Durante voiced, “the woman you marry needs to have physical attributes that turn you on.”
Clement responded with a smile. “Yes, she does. And that’s how goodGod is, son. God will give you a woman who you will see as the most beautiful woman in the world, while the rest of us would rather scratch our eyes out than look at her.” All the men laughed now, including Clement, as he motioned for them to stand and for Trevor to take a seat on a folding chair. Moments later, Trevor was in the center of a huddle, and he felt the firm pressure of Clement’s hand resting on his head. Some of the others stacked their hands on Trevor’s back and shoulders, then Clement asked God’s blessings on Trevor and Cassidy and the family they would form next weekend.
Later, as Trevor drove away from the party, his new books on the seat beside him and the brochure tucked inside the glove compartment, he continued to pray. He believed he had been a good husband to Brenda. He wanted to be all that and more to Cassidy. He pulled his SUV into the Willow Grove Mall parking lot. An hour later, Trevor came out of the complex with shopping bags full of candles, bath and body items, and classical music, some of the ingredients he would use to fill next Saturday night with memories that would make Cassidy smile for the rest of their marriage.
Strain lined Cassidy’s face. After months of reprieve, the nightmare had returned. Cold sweat on her chest and back glued her nightshirt to her skin. Cassidy left the damp short-sleeved shirt on, though, too weary to get up and change.
Tears pushed against her closed eyes, demanding freedom.
Not tonight. There would be no tears tonight. Tears would make her eyes puffy and red. She could not have puffy and red eyes tomorrow on her wedding day.
The wet nightshirt gave her a chill that reached her bones, and Cassidy pulled the covers tighter around her. Although her eyes were wide open, she could hear the piercing pleas of the little boy fighting to keep his head above the water. Gripping the bedding, Cassidy wondered if the dream was in any way related to the terrible thing she had done to her baby. A few times, she had come close to telling Trevor about her child. Once, during a premarital session, the minister encouraged them to speak about anything that might have the potential to register as a problem somewhere down the road. Cassidy’s mouth had stayed tightly closed. After all, didn’t the Bible say to forget those things which are behind and press toward the new?
Cassidy turned onto her stomach, keeping the covers close to her frame as she pondered what good could come out of taking old baggage into her life with Trevor. It would be best for their future if she remained silent about the baby.
“
Forgetting those things which are behind,”
she muttered several times as sleep drifted near and lulled her into a cradle of calm.
T
revor sat in the church parking lot and listened as Luther Vandross sang one of the songs that had been performed at Trevor and Cassidy’s wedding. The last note rang from Luther, and Trevor turned off the radio, got out of the truck, and walked inside the church. He signed in with Clement Audrey’s secretary, Francine, and took a seat in the small waiting area outside of the pastor’s office. Two months ago, when Clement married him and Cassidy, Trevor never imagined that he would be in need of a session with his pastor.
“Are we still on for lunch?” Francine loaded a new bundle of paper into the copy machine as she talked with Barbara, the secretary from across the hall who handled the Sunday bulletins, all incoming announcements, and general church business. Francine and Barbara finalized their lunch plans before Barbara dashed from the room to answer her phone. Midway through the return trip to her desk, Francine glanced at Trevor. “Are you sure I can’t get you a cup of coffee?”
“I’m sure, Francine. Thank you.” Trevor patted his shoe against the carpet, every nerve in his body unraveling while he sat and waited for his appointment with Clement Audrey. He closed his eyes and willed himself to think of something pleasant. Something . . . anything other than the reason he’d scheduled this meeting. Every time he gave himself permission to meditate on the reason behind this meeting, his stomach grew fists and swung punches.
Clement opened the door of his office, and a young man and woman Trevor didn’t remember seeing before walked out. The man had quiet but stern eyes. The woman’s eyes were filled with tears. “Come on in, Trevor.” Clement stepped aside.
Trevor glanced at the pastor and entered the office.
“Have a seat.” Clement gestured to the chairs in front of his desk.
Trevor eased onto the nearest chair, keeping a firm grip on the leather arms. “I’m not sure where to start.”
Clement smiled lightly. “Prayer is always a good place.” The pastor prayed as the Spirit of God led him to pray, and some of Trevor’s nervousness receded.
Clement leaned back. “How can I help?”
“Cassidy and I are having a . . .”—he cleared his throat, yet spoke lower—“a marital ministry problem.” Trevor briefly rubbed his left ear as if that might silence his pulse, a steady drumbeat playing deep in his head. Otherwise, the office was quiet, and he continued to look down at the creases in his slacks. Sometimes the pastor referred to sex as marital ministry when speaking about it over the pulpit. Trevor was finding a marital ministry problem a humiliating thing to own up to, especially to another man, and especially since he and Cassidy had only been married for two months.
“Can you be more specific?” the pastor asked.
Lifting the barbells of bravery, Trevor looked at Clement. “Our marriage has never been consummated.” With a swipe of his palm, Trevor wiped the sweat from his hairline and told the whole story.
Clement was silent for a few seconds. “Vaginismus,” he concluded.
Trevor stared deep into Clement’s face. “What?”
“What you described sounds like vaginismus. It can be quite traumatic for those involved.”
“Yeah, tell me about it,” Trevor said before asking, “What is it?”
Clement answered, “It’s classified as a dysfunction.” Trevor perched on the edge of the chair, his eyes rarely leaving Clement as he explained in detail. A few minutes later, the pastor concluded, “Any attempt at physical union is enormously painful for the woman, if not impossible.”
“Do you know what causes the condition?”
“There are a variety of factors, physical or psychological, that may cause it, and it’s important that a woman who suspects she has it see her gynecologist so that physical reasons such as infection can be either established or ruled out.”
“You said it could be psychologically induced?”
Clement bobbed his head. “A psychological condition can cause the physical symptoms. Sometimes females who’ve gone through the traumatic experience of rape or molestation suffer from the dysfunction. Or sometimes the condition develops after a woman has had an unpleasant sexual experience and she fears the experience will repeat itself.”
Trevor lapsed into intense thought, then said, “Cassidy was a virgin. She didn’t have a prior experience. And she would have told me if she had been raped.”
“Not necessarily. Some sexual assault victims are so ashamed about what’s happened to them they won’t speak about it. And some of them can’t speak about it without help because they’ve blocked bits and pieces, if not all of it, out. But we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Like I said, there are many factors that can bring on this particular disorder.”
A sudden sense of insecurity crept through Trevor. Maybe
he
was the cause of Cassidy’s dysfunction. Maybe she was repulsed by something he was or wasn’t doing. He’d never known Brenda to be dissatisfied, but now he wondered if maybe she had been, but had failed to mention it. Now, with Cassidy tense and in pain every time they attempted marital ministry, Trevor had to consider that he could be the problem. His skills might not be as tight as he thought they were.
Clement clutched the bottle of orange juice sitting on the desk and took a drink from it. “I met a couple some years back that were in the same situation as you and Cassidy. The wife was raised in a home where intimate relations, even in marriage, were viewed as perverted. Although she was married to a man she loved dearly, the negative messages she heard as a youngster continued to play in her head, affecting her ability to lead a normal intimate life. But with much prayer and some therapy, she was able to overcome. She’s been married for eight years, and she and her husband have two children.”
Trevor felt slightly better knowing that someone else in the world had gone through the same thing as he now was. Not that he wished the problem on anyone, but if this other couple had been cured, then there was hope for him and Cassidy.
Clement swiveled back and forth once, and the hinge underneath the seat sang a tune. “What does Cassidy say about all this?”
The question reminded Trevor of how isolated he’d been feeling lately. “The subject’s not discussed if I don’t bring it up. When I do bring it up, Cassidy simply apologizes for not being an adequate partner. I told her I don’t see her as inadequate, I just want to find out what’s going on.”
Trevor continued, “I would have come to see you sooner, but Cassidy doesn’t want anyone to know about her . . .” The problem belonged to them both. He hurt because she hurt. “
Our
problem,” he corrected. Trevor propped his elbow on the arm of the chair and squeezed his forehead. “Cassidy is going to be furious when she finds out I came to you.”
“From what I’ve read, many vaginismus sufferers initially find the condition embarrassing to talk about. And unfortunately, many go for years suffering in silence. I’m glad you took the first step and came to me.”
“I needed to talk to someone.” He wasn’t going to shut the world out and try to cope on his own as he had when Brenda died. “There’s something else worrying me,” he confessed, connecting with Clement’s attentive eyes. “I’ve always known Cassidy to eat nutritiously, but for the last two weeks, I haven’t seen her eat much of anything.”
Clement looked at his watch. “Cassidy should be downstairs with the ACES kids right about now, correct?”
Trevor glanced at his watch. It was 9:15. “Yes, she should be here.”
“If it’s okay with you, I’m going to have her come up. I’ll have Vivaca come over, too. Considering the nature of the discussion, Cassidy might feel more at ease with her present.”
Cassidy respected Vivaca. Trevor nodded consent as the grip of tension on his shoulders pinched to the point of pain, and the only way he could combat it was to leave the chair and walk across the room. He stopped at a wall lined with divinity degrees and prayed that Cassidy would forgive him for talking to their pastor without her approval.
Cassidy pulled two folders from the file cabinet and hurried upstairs to Clement’s office, certain the reason she’d been asked to come up was Marvin and Karvin Frank. The twin ten-year-olds had serious behavior issues, and their parents had not responded to any of Cassidy’s phone calls or letters. Yesterday Cassidy had recommended they be dismissed from ACES. However, no child could be expelled from the program without the pastor’s authorization.
