Just Shy of Harmony (7 page)

“Actually, it says the Lord loves a cheerful giver,” Sam said.

“Sam, you shouldn’t misquote Scripture just to get your way,” Dale said.

If I quit now, Sam thought, I could be selling insurance in two weeks. Maybe my folks could loan me a little money to tide us over.

That was the end of the meeting. Sam walked home. He was tired. More tired than he had ever been.

His thoughts ranged. What good is the church? What good does it do to even be faithful to God? It’s not like God returns the favor. It’s not like God actually causes people to do the right thing. It’s not like I gave up on God. He gave up on me. Who needs Him? Not me, that’s for sure.

Sam Gardner walked down Washington Street past the Grant Hardware Emporium. He stood outside his house. He could see Barbara through the upstairs window, combing their boys’ hair after their bath.

I’ll stick it out for them, he thought. But if a better offer comes along, I’m outta here.

He pushed open the door and went inside, up the stairs and into the bathroom. His boys were clustered in front of the mirror, brushing their teeth. Tanned, skinny boys in their Superman underwear and burr haircuts, frothing at the mouth. Rinse, spit, rinse, spit, and wipe.

“Daddy’s home. Read us a story, Daddy. Read us a story.”

It was the first time he’d seen them that day.

Starting now, I’m taking more time off. If folks in the church can be selfish, so can I.

He tucked his children in bed and read them a story as they fell asleep. He placed the book on the night-stand and pulled the sheets over their skinny shoulders. He stood between their beds, watching them, envying their innocence, their untainted hearts.

To fall asleep without a worry in the world, to trust as they trust—what a treasure that would be. Help me, Lord. Help me trust like them again.

I
t had been a little over a month since Sally had called home. For weeks Wayne Fleming stewed about what to do. Finally, one morning in early September, he asked the neighbor lady to watch the kids while he went to talk with Sam Gardner.

He drove into town, parked behind the meetinghouse, and walked in through the back door. Frank the secretary was on the phone. He looked at Wayne, rolled his eyes, then covered the mouthpiece with his hand and told Wayne, “Be with you in a second.”

“Take your time. I’m in no hurry.”

Frank spoke into the phone. “Like I was saying, Fern, Sam isn’t here. Monday’s his day off. But I’ll be sure to tell him you didn’t like his sermon. Good-bye.” He hung up the phone. “I woke up this morning with one nerve and darned if Fern Hampton didn’t get on it.”

“What’s she complaining about now?”

“Oh, she claims Sam looked at her when he was talking about the Pharisees during his sermon yesterday morning. Now she’s all upset.”

“You would think she’d get the hint.”

Frank laughed. “Yeah, wouldn’t you, though.”

“I heard you tell her today was Sam’s day off. I was hoping to talk with him. I don’t suppose I could talk with him today, could I?”

“Not today. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“I don’t think so. It’s kind of personal.”

“Sit down, Wayne, and let’s talk. You’ll feel better getting it off your chest.”

Wayne thought for a moment. “Maybe you’re right. You’ve been married. Maybe you can help me.” He sat in the chair beside Frank’s desk. “Got a call from my wife. It’s the first I’ve heard from her since she ran off with that truck driver last year. Now, out of the blue, she calls and wants to come home. I can’t decide what to do.”

“When did she call?”

“The first time was a month or so ago.”

“I notice you’ve been spending time with Deena Morrison. Have you told her?”

“Not yet. But I’m aiming to just as soon as I get the chance. I thought I ought to make up my mind first about what I’m going to do.”

“Which way are you leaning?”

“When Sally first called, I didn’t want anything to do with her, and I told her so. Told her not to call me back. I didn’t hear from her for a couple weeks. Then she called back the other night and we talked, and when I hung up I wasn’t so sure anymore. She’s coming home this Saturday to see the kids. She seems really sorry. I’m just not sure I can trust her anymore. I worry if I take her back, she’ll cheat on me again.”

“How do you know she cheated on you?”

“Well, that’s what folks are saying, and I’m inclined to believe them.”

Frank stood up, walked to the door, and closed it. Then he sat down, reached over to the phone, and took it off the hook.

“Wayne, I want to tell you something that happened to me a long time ago, when I was in Korea, back when Martha and I were first married. I need you to promise you’ll never tell a soul.”

“I won’t say a word.”

“I’d been over there about a year when I got a letter from her saying she wanted a divorce, that she’d fallen in love with someone else.” Frank hesitated. His voice caught, remembering the pain of it. “Well, it was the worst day of my life, getting that letter. Forty-eight years ago, and it still hurts to think of it.”

“I know that feeling,” Wayne said quietly.

“I was due to be shipped home in three months. I wrote Martha a letter, asking her not to do anything until we’d talked. When I finally got home, she met me at the train station in the city. I could tell right off she’d been with another fella. Just by the way she looked at me. It liked to have killed me.”

“There’s no pain worse.”

“I talked her into meeting with our pastor, and we were able to patch things up. But it was a lot of work, and it took a while.”

“Why’d she cheat on you?”

“She never said. I asked her once, but she wouldn’t say. I can’t help but think she was lonely.”

“But that’s different. My wife wasn’t lonely. I wasn’t in Korea. I was home.”

“Loneliness isn’t about proximity. You can live with another person and still feel like there’s no one who’ll listen, like there’s no one who cares. Anyway, my point is this—that after a time we worked it out, and in the end I was so grateful to God for letting me have my Martha. I don’t know why she did what she did, but we rose above it, and so can you and Sally.”

They sat quietly in the office. The Frieda Hampton Memorial Clock in the meeting room bonged ten.

“I have a lot of thinking to do,” Wayne finally said.

“You sure do. I hope you make the right decision.”

“I’d still like to talk with Sam. Can you ask him to call me tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks for talking with me, Frank. It means a lot.”

“Take care of yourself, Wayne. I’ll be thinking of you.”

“I appreciate that.”

W
ayne thought about it all that day, and again that night as he swept the aisles at the Kroger. The next morning he woke up his children, read them a story, poured their bowls of Cap’n Crunch, and sat at the table with them.

“Kids, there’s something you need to know. Your mommy will be coming home to visit us this Saturday.”

They looked puzzled, then bombarded him with questions.

“Is Mommy coming back for good?”

“Can Deena still be our friend?”

“Does this mean Mommy loves us again?”

“Kids, I don’t know quite what it means. But no matter what happens, I’ll be here for you and I’ll always take care of you. I want you to remember that.”

The phone rang. Wayne picked it up.

“Hello.”

“Hi, Wayne. This is Sam. Frank said you’d stopped by yesterday needing to talk. I’m free now. Can you come in?”

“Now’s a bad time. I don’t have a baby-sitter.”

“I’d be happy to come to your place, if you want.”

“That’d be great. I really need to talk.”

“See you in a half hour then,” Sam said, and hung up the phone.

Wayne looked around the trailer. It was a mess. He clapped his hands. “All right, kids, breakfast is over. Let’s get things picked up.” He filled the sink with soapsuds and handed Adam a dishcloth. “You’re in charge of dishes, son.”

The girls picked up the clutter while Wayne vacuumed. Little Kate yelled at him over the roar of the sweeper. “Can we stay up late when Mommy comes home?”

“We’ll see,” Wayne said.

He finished sweeping, wound the cord around the handle, and pushed the sweeper into the closet just as Sam Gardner knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Wayne called out.

Sam pushed open the door and walked in the small trailer. Lord, what do they do on days when it rains? No wonder Sally ran off, Sam thought.

He and Wayne shook hands. Sam rubbed the kids’ heads.

“Okay, kids, Daddy needs to talk with Sam. I need you to go outside to play. Be sure to stay back from the road.”

Wayne sat on the couch. Sam sat opposite him in a saggy, green chair with worn armrests.

“We’re so happy to have you and Deena and the kids coming to church,” Sam said. “I take it things are going all right with the two of you?”

“Going really well. We enjoy each other’s company.” Wayne sighed, fidgeted on the sofa, then plunged ahead.

“My wife called last month and wants me to take her back. She’s coming in this Saturday to see the kids and to talk with me. And I don’t know what to do.”

Sam leaned forward in his chair. “Wow, how did Deena take it?”

“The thing is, I haven’t really gotten around to telling Deena yet.”

“Well, it’s none of my business, but don’t you think you oughta tell her before Saturday?”

“Yeah, I suppose so.” Wayne leaned forward and covered his face with his hands. “What a mess. Why did this have to happen? Deena and I were doing so well. Now everything’s falling apart. Why couldn’t Sally have stayed gone?”

Sam had taken several counseling classes in seminary, but his teachers had never covered this particular topic—what to do if your spouse runs off and you fall in love with a wonderful person only to have your spouse come home.

What a mess, Sam thought.

He’d been trained in the counseling classes never to tell people what to do. The key was to help people find the answers for themselves through skillful, insightful questioning. Sam had never been very good at it.

“Well, I tell you what I’d do,” Sam said. “I’d forget about her. She abandoned you and the kids. Just walked off for no good reason. If that isn’t a reason to divorce, I don’t know what is.”

“You think so? Frank told me I should take her back.”

“He what?”

“He told me I should give Sally another chance. That I wouldn’t regret it.”

“When did he tell you that?”

“Yesterday at your office. You weren’t there, so I talked with Frank instead. Actually, what he said made a lot of sense.”

Darn that Frank, Sam thought. That’s what I get for taking a day off.

“Well, Wayne, you’re free to talk with Frank or anyone else for that matter, but I’d advise keeping your own counsel. Everyone’s gonna have a different idea of what you should do, and if you don’t do what they suggest, they’ll be mad.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. It’s just that I’m not sure what the right thing is. I’ve been praying about it, but God’s not given me any kind of answer.”

Good luck there, Sam thought. I’ve been asking God to do something in the church for over a year and nothing’s happened.

“Why do you suppose God hasn’t given me an answer?” Wayne asked.

“I’m not sure, Wayne.”

“It makes it kind of hard to believe in God. If you know what I mean.”

“I know exactly what you mean.”

Sam suddenly felt very tired. He sagged in the green chair.

“Is anything wrong, Sam?”

“Hey, I’m not here to tell you my problems. I’m here to help you.”

“I don’t mind listening.”

“Really?”

“Not at all. And I can keep a secret.”

S
itting in that little trailer on the worn green chair, Sam felt like he was in a confessional. Safe and anonymous. Far away from Dale Hinshaw and Fern Hampton. Maybe it would be all right to tell Wayne his doubts.

He remembered back to when he was first called to the ministry, how he’d gone to Pastor Taylor to talk with him about being a pastor.

“There’ll be times,” Pastor Taylor had told Sam in a quiet, hesitant voice, “when your flock will minister to you. Dark nights of the soul when it feels you’ve lost your way. And you have to let them. Sam, you have to let them help you.”

Sam was young then, brimming with the conviction of youth. He couldn’t imagine such a time. He’d almost forgotten that long-ago conversation. Now it returned to his mind. He knew precisely what Pastor Taylor had been trying to say.

“It’s like this, Wayne. Being a pastor and all, people
expect me to have a strong faith, but here lately…well, here lately I’ve been struggling.”

“Struggling? What do you mean by ‘struggling’?”

“I mean there are times I’m sitting in church or preaching and it occurs to me that I don’t believe in God anymore.”

The moment Sam said it, he regretted it. His secret was out. There was no going back.

“How can you not believe in God?”

“I’m just not seeing Him do anything. Our Goal-Setting Sunday was a joke. People are always fighting with each other. Now we got all this money and the elders want to build a gymnasium onto the meetinghouse. And I’m not doing anybody a lick of good, either. I pray and pray for something to happen, for God to use me, for God to change the church, but nothing happens. Nothing at all.”

“Have you told anyone? Have you talked with the elders?”

“Not a soul, except for you and my wife.”

Wayne sat quietly on the couch for a moment. He could hear the children playing outside and the occasional hum of a passing car.

“Do you want my advice?” asked Wayne.

“Sure. I’m not promising I’ll take it, but I’m curious to know your thoughts.”

“I haven’t been a Christian very long, but I’ve been reading the Bible you gave me. It talks a lot about honesty. Why don’t you just tell folks the truth about how you feel? Talk about it with the elders. Tell them your doubts. Maybe they can help you. Maybe they’ll pray for you or something.”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, they’ll pray for me all right, right before they fire me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Well, I can’t imagine they’d want to have a pastor who doesn’t believe in God. I mean, belief in God is kind of in the job description.”

“Still, I think it pays to be honest and up front.”

“Boy, that’s not easy.”

“You got that right. Why do you think I haven’t told Deena about my wife coming in this Saturday?”

“It looks like we both have some work ahead of us, doesn’t it?”

Wayne nodded in agreement.

They talked about other things, about Asa and Jessie giving the money to the church, about Deena, about the Corn and Sausage Days festival the upcoming weekend.

Finally, Sam stood from the green chair. “Good luck talking with Deena.”

“Good luck talking with the elders.”

Sam walked toward the door, and Wayne followed.

“Hey, Sam, I know you don’t think God’s doing much in our little church, but I want you to know He’s doing something in me. Even with all my troubles, I’m feeling a sense of hope I’ve never felt before. And I want you to know something else. Even though you think you’re not doing any good, you’ve helped me more than you know.”

He hugged Sam to him.

Sam’s eyes burned. He squeezed Wayne back.

“Thank you, Wayne. Pray for me, could you?”

“You know I will.”

Sam pushed open the trailer door, walked outside,
climbed into his car, and drove past the fields and farms toward town. Past Harvey Muldock’s car dealership. He pulled into town, passing beneath the Corn and Sausage Days banner strung across Main Street between Kivett’s Five and Dime and the Kroger.

Kyle Weathers was out front of his barbershop, hanging up a sign. Corn and Sausage Days Special! Haircuts While U Wait!