Love Remains (21 page)

Dumbfounded, Zarah could only stare at the pastor. Surely the next thing he was going to say was,
Just kidding—we’re actually increasing the singles’ ministry’s budget because you’ve been growing and doing such a good job of ministering to your members
.

“Sir, when we talked about this,” Patrick said, “my understanding of the reason for the change is to better integrate the singles into the church—not to try to make them feel like being single is wrong. Did I misunderstand you?”

Pastor Joe frowned, looked down at his notes, then back at Patrick. “Did I make it sound as if being single is wrong?”

Zarah joined Patrick in nodding.

“That’s not what I meant—what I meant is that it’s important that we help the unmarried folks in our congregation see that staying single isn’t always the best path for their lives. That marriage and building a family are the biblical model of Christianity.”

“In whose Bible?” Zarah blurted out. “Not the Bible I’ve read in which Paul encourages unmarried people to stay unmarried so that we can better serve God. Not in the Bible in which Jesus was unmarried. Not in the Bible in which the apostles all abandoned their wives and children to fend for themselves so they could go out and spread the gospel.”

Patrick rested his hand on her shoulder, ceasing her torrent of words but kept his gaze on Pastor Joe. “I think what Zarah is saying, which I agree with, is that not everyone is called to marry or have
children. Just like not everyone who is currently unmarried is called to stay single.” He turned to look at Zarah. “And what Pastor Joe is trying to do is to make sure that the unmarried people in the church don’t feel quite so isolated from the rest of the church family anymore—and we’ll be better able to minister to the singles by being able to focus on topics and issues that are more specific to those within the new classes.”

“Yes—yes, Patrick. That’s what we were going for.” Pastor Joe beamed at him. “Zarah, I’m sorry if my awkward explanation offended you. We want to better integrate everyone into the church family.”

Zarah’s pounding heart began to return to a more normal pressure and rhythm. “May I make a suggestion, then?”

“Yes, please.” Pastor Joe’s head bobbled like one of the large-headed sports figurines on the shelf behind him.

“We’re going to need that class for the median singles—the thirty-and fortysomethings who don’t really fit in anywhere else. We aren’t going to fit in with the married people our age—who mostly have young kids, and with whom we don’t have a lot in common at this stage of our lives. We need to be able to explore issues we face on a daily basis—issues that stem from being single, from living life alone, from wondering what it is that God wants us to do when it comes to relationships. And I think the best person to teach the class is someone who’s been through that. Someone who’s lived life as a single adult, not someone who’s been married their entire adult life.”

“Do you have a suggestion?” Pastor Joe asked.

She shook her head. “Not off the top of my head.”

“Then let’s give the couple who’ve volunteered to teach it a try. They seem eager to work with this group.”

Grudgingly, Zarah conceded. “Okay.”

“Will you work with us through this change, Zarah? Having you on board, the leadership you’ll be able to provide, will be key to make the transition smoother.”

Still not happy about it but seeing no alternative, she nodded.

Patrick squeezed her hand again. “Thanks, Zarah. This is going to be a good change. And by splitting up the group, it’ll be a lot less work for you.”

Anger, sadness, disappointment, and a sense of betrayal cramped her stomach. Where was she, personally, going to fit into this new structure? What would happen to her ability to mentor the younger single women—would they even let her near them if she was such a bad example of Christianity because she was still unmarried? They’d effectively taken away her ministry—her source of joy—without even asking her how she felt about it.

She had a lot more she wanted to say on the subject—especially to Patrick, who wasn’t one of her favorite people in the world right now—but she swallowed the words. She pulled her hand away from his and looked at the pastor with raised brows. “Is that everything?”

“I believe so. The change will take place the first weekend in October.”

Good. She wouldn’t be here. She’d be in Washington DC.

That job at the National Archives suddenly sounded much better than it ever had.

Bobby pulled into the church parking lot, surprised to see Zarah’s car. He’d heard she didn’t usually come for supper.

A few feet from the main entrance, he stopped when the door flew open and Zarah barreled out—and almost ran him down.

“Whoa! Easy there.” He reached out and grabbed her shoulders to steady her.

“Sorry.” Patches of bright red painted her cheeks, and tightness pulled her mouth into an angry pucker.

“What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, eyes closed, as if whatever had her upset was too foul to repeat aloud. “It’s…nothing.” Crystalline tears welled in her blue eyes.

Bobby pulled her out of the pathway to the door and led her over to sit on the low wall surrounding one of the trees. “Talk.”

She raised one shoulder in a half shrug. “Apparently I’m a bad example to all of the younger single women in the church.”

“I’m trying to follow you here, but I’m having a little trouble.” Bobby pulled his handkerchief out of his inside coat pocket and handed it to her. “Wanna start from the beginning?”

Zarah dabbed the corners of her eyes then clutched the cloth in her fist. She started slowly, but as she warmed to her subject, her eyes flashed and her tone became vehement. Bobby listened in astonished silence as Zarah related what she’d just learned from the pastor.

“I’m certain he didn’t mean he thought
you
were a bad example to the younger singles. He’d be insane to think so.”

“But that’s the thing…in a twisted way, that’s what he was saying: I’m a bad example to them simply because I’m not married—and because I’ve never dated.”

A slow smile caught the corners of Bobby’s mouth. “Never?”

She looked at him—and finally seemed to realize to whom she was talking. For a moment, he thought she might run away. But then she released a halfhearted chuckle. “Not since I’ve been here, no, not really. You aren’t supposed to know that, though. According to Flannery, the best way to deal with you is to make you insanely jealous over the thought of all the handsome, wealthy, successful men I’ve dated since we broke up.”

“We’ll get back to that in a minute. But as to what the pastor said about the singles’ group, do you know the couple he said wanted to teach the older singles’ class?”

“He didn’t say who it was. Only that they were in their forties and have been married half their lives, so don’t know what it’s like to be single.”

“And you’re going to write them off just because they’re married?”

“No—I’m—no, that’s not—” Zarah huffed and rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Oh, so you’re saying God couldn’t possibly have called this couple to minister to the singles?” He let just enough sarcasm slip through into his tone that, hopefully, Zarah wouldn’t take offense.

“Of course not!” Her mouth twisted in wry frustration.

“Then what are you saying?”

“I just think it would have been nice if they could have discussed it with us and let us help make the decision. We’re not children, to have someone else decide how our Sunday school class or Bible study should be run.” Zarah twisted the handkerchief around one long finger.

“And you think because you’re not being asked to teach the class that they think you’re a bad example?”

“Are you being purposely obtuse?”

He hid his smile. At least now she wasn’t so dejected and weepy anymore. “No. I’m just having a hard time understanding why you believe they think you’re a bad example of a Christian simply because they want to restructure the singles’ ministry so that they can meet our needs better. You said the pastor apologized for not being clear with what he said.”

“He said that married people are a
better example
to singles. That obviously means he thinks that people like me aren’t a good example.”

Bobby couldn’t think of anyone who was a better example of Christianity to the young single women than Zarah. He wished more of the ones in this group took their cues of behavior from her. “I think he didn’t do a good job of thinking through his explanation. I seriously doubt Patrick would have been on board with this if Pastor Joe truly felt that you—that someone like you—isn’t a wonderful example for others in the singles’ ministry.”

“Oh—and that’s another thing!” Zarah jumped up and turned to shake her finger in his face. “Your friend Patrick is a jerk.”

“Whoa, there. Hold on.” He captured her accusatory hand between his to keep her from poking him in the eye. “I agree. Patrick was wrong for not telling you all of this ahead of time. I can’t defend
him or his choices. But don’t take it out on me.”

She yanked her hand away and sat with a huff. “I enjoyed working with the younger women, trying to mentor them and help them figure out that being single is okay, that their whole identity doesn’t have to be wrapped up in who they’re dating. I liked planning the group activities and being there to make sure everything ran smoothly. I liked providing all of the administrative work so no one else had to deal with it. I liked helping lead small groups in Sunday school and Bible study. From what Pastor Joe said, this couple he has lined up are going to want to implement their own ideas for activities and Bible studies.”

“Maybe this is God’s way of making you slow down a little bit. You are a wonderful model of what it means to be a single Christian woman; anyone would be crazy to think—or say—otherwise.”

Her cheeks glowed pink and the corners of her mouth trembled as if trying to fight off a smile.

“I know I’ve only been back a couple of weeks, but from what I’ve seen and what I’ve heard, you have a tendency to run yourself ragged for this group of…”
Ingrates
sounded a little too harsh. “You put out and put out and put out and don’t seem to get anything in return from most of the people in the singles’ group—except disregard.”

She cocked her head and frowned at him. “I get the joy of knowing I’ve ministered to others.”

“Zarah, they ignore you unless they need you to serve them coffee or orange juice or bring them a Bible or something. Maybe this is God’s way of saying it’s time you let someone else take over doing that and just rest for a while. Let people get to know you in some other capacity than as a servant—and I don’t mean that in the good sense of the word.”

“There’s nothing wrong with serving others.”

“There is when you allow people to treat you like a doormat.” Now he was starting to get riled. How could she not see the way people treated her?

“I don’t think you’ve been back long enough to make that judgment, Robert Oliver Patterson.”

Warm ooey-gooeys dribbled through Bobby’s chest at Zarah’s use of his full name. “Maybe I haven’t, but I know you pretty well, Miss—
Doctor
Zarah Victoria Mitchell.” Just how well, he didn’t want to admit. He still hadn’t compiled the complete profile on her, but right now, he probably knew more about her than she knew about herself.

“Yeah, well, I know you pretty well, too, and I know you have a tendency to see things the way you want to see them. Anyway”—she pressed the handkerchief back into his hand—”I’m not supposed to be carrying on a civil conversation with you. I’m supposed to raise my chin and look the other way.”

“Is that what Flannery told you to do?” He tucked the hankie back into his pocket.

“It was in an article she e-mailed me about what you’re supposed to do when your ex comes back into your life.” She turned and started digging in her big leather bag. “I’m supposed to make you jealous, too, by making sure you happen to run into me while I’m out on a date with some drop-dead gorgeous hunk.”

All she had to do was talk to another man one-on-one and that made him jealous enough. “And was there anyone in particular you’re planning on going out with to make me insanely jealous?” He thought through all the men in the singles’ group he’d met so far. He couldn’t imagine her going out with any of them—and several of them had admitted at that guys’ night out a couple of weekends ago that they’d asked and she’d said no.

“Flannery has a list.” Zarah finally found what she was looking for and pulled her hand out of her bag with her fingers wrapped around her keys.

“A list?”

“Yeah, authors, agents, business associates.” Zarah’s cheeks turned a little pink again.

“And do you want to go out with them?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know any of them.”

“Is that why you haven’t dated since…moving to Nashville? Because you didn’t know anyone who asked you out?”

“Oh, I’ve been out on a few dates. I’ve just found it…easier not to do that.” Her expression sobered. “I think it’s better for me if I don’t date.”

He turned sideways to face her. “Really? Why’s that?”