I'd like to thank those people who helped me edit this work, particularly the dialog.
The Pastor's Wife
Chapter 1
I was in the storage room counting candy the day my life turned upside down. It's easy to look now and say: "On that day, my life changed forever." Of course you don't realize it's that kind of day for a long time. In my case, I didn't recognize it until it was too wonderful to change, and if I had known how things would be, I'm certain I wouldn't have tried.
Our fall Harvest Festival was coming up, that's what we call our church's Halloween outreach event, and I was counting how much candy we had on hand. While I was working, I was singing to myself.
If dreams were lighting, thunder was desire
This old house would have burnt down a long time ago.
It wasn't the world's most cheerful song, but it matched my mood. I had become increasingly depressed over the past year and had been singing sad songs for a while now. This particular song was one I sang often. It spoke eloquently of the disappointment and emptiness that I was feeling in my life.
As I was finishing the verse, I noticed someone I'd never seen before standing nearby. She was intently watching me, her face barely containing an infectious grin.
"Hi there! I'm your angel from Montgomery" she smiled. Her smile was so beautiful, it lit up her face. She looked radiant.
"I'm sorry?" I lied. She was playing on the verse she had overheard, giving me the chorus to the song.
"Well, only kidding a little. My name is Morgan, but I am from Montgomery!" she grinned. "I was dropping my daughter off, and someone asked me if I would get some paper towels for her. They said someone would be in here to show me where they were."
"Oh, here, let me help you find them."
I worked my way through the shelves, past tubs full of plastic Easter eggs and bins full of macaroni, and paint, and all of the crafty things that get used in a church's childrens ministry. In the far corner of the room, I found the paper towels. As I handed her a roll of towels, I got my first real chance to look at her. I guessed she was in her late twenties, the same as me. Her hair was honey colored, falling in loose curls down her shoulders, to the middle of her back. A beautiful white cashmere sweater matched her brilliantly white smile. Her eyes were a beautiful liquid brown with cinnamon flecks. The tight designer jeans she wore looked great on her. Even though she was very petite, the thin taper of the pants gave her a much taller appearance. If I had to guess, I would have said she weighed about 105 pounds. Her skin was beautiful; she looked every inch like a lovely porcelain doll.
I'm almost 5'9" tall, and I felt pretty plain. My husband was the pastor of the church, and even though I had a trust fund that made us fairly well off, he insisted that we live very frugally as an example to the members of the congregation. Of course as part of his job, the Right Reverend Daniel Isaiah Hornbarger needed to have good quality clothing, and he assured me that people understood this. It was one of the sore points between us. I was tired of looking like all my clothes had come from a garage sale. My hair was in a simple, utilitarian cut that did nothing for me. I looked and felt like a total drab.
Taking the paper towels from me, she looked at me and said:
"There's a saying where I'm from that it takes a worried man to sing a worried song."
Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a business card and scribbled out a number on it and handed it to me.
"If you'd ever like to talk about things, I'm a good listener."
"I'm sure that won't be necessary." I said frostily. Her lovely face looked stricken for a moment. Backing out, she looked at me and whispered:
"I'm sorry. I'm new here, and I thought you could use a friend. I'll just leave now."
I stood there, totally ashamed of myself. I could feel my throat tighten, and my cheeks go flush as I thought about how rude I had been. Here someone was trying to be nice to me and I had intentionally asserted that I didn't need her kindness. I wondered what my grandmother would have said if she'd seen the exchange.
For the rest of the evening, and into the next morning I continued to feel guilty about my actions. Knowing that it would gnaw at me if I didn't do something, I took out her card and called the number written on it.
"Hello, this is Morgan" she announced.
"Hi Morgan, this is Kelly Hornbarger. We met last night in the storeroom?"
"Oh, hi..."
"I called because I really wanted to apologize for my behavior last night. It was really uncalled for and I'm sorry. I know you were being kind to me and I really regret that I snapped at you."
"Hey, it's OK. I understand that everyone has off days."
"Thanks for being so gracious. I know you probably don't think much of me right now, but if you don't mind, could I take you up on your offer?"
"Sure, I would be happy to. I work from home on Tuesdays and Fridays. On either of those two days, I can adjust my time to whatever would work for you."
"This Friday would be great if we could meet then. I'm open all morning."
"Great. How about 10:00 o'clock at that coffee shop by church?" Morgan asked.
"That would be great!. I'll see you then." As I hung up the phone, I felt a sense of relief flood over me. I was looking forward to being able to talk with someone about some of the things that were bothering me. None of my family lived in the state, and the only person I could talk to was my mother. Even with my mother, I wasn't being totally honest about how things were. Heck, I wasn't even being honest with myself. It's easy to lie to yourself when things suck and you know they're not going to change.
Things were so bad that even going to Church had also become a trial. Not only did I have to put up with looks of pity, or superiority from some of the women, but Daniel's preaching had changed too. His style was becoming harder and aggressive. Last Sunday, he'd been preaching on joy when all of a sudden he launched off on a 10 minute shouted diatribe against the theory of evolution, and then another 5 minute tirade on the evils of cultural relativism. It got some applause, but I just couldn't see how those two things were related to joy. It was like he really wanted to preach about those terrible things, and joy was just his introduction. I thought joy deserved better.
Chapter 2
When I got ready for our meeting, I decided that I was going to buy a new outfit to wear. I knew I'd be rebuked by Daniel, but I didn't care. I was tired of living a lie, pretending to be poor so that we could appear humble and righteous. I bought a lovely light blue blouse that highlighted my flat middle, and navy A-line skirt just short enough to display my long legs to their best advantage without causing a church scandal. Of course, I was decked out to the nines, and Morgan showed up wearing faded jeans and a heavy cotton sweater.
Even in old jeans she's so beautiful!
"Wow, you look nice!" Morgan said. "Hot date tonight?"
"I wish! No, there's a funeral this afternoon, and I'm a soloist." This was actually true, it just wasn't why I was had bought and worn that skirt. Why had I defied my husband to buy new clothing for this meeting? Sometimes, I don't even understand myself.
"I'd really like to apologize again for what I said. I feel so bad that you were being so nice, and I was just so rude. Please forgive me?"
"Of course I forgive you. Everyone has off days. You wouldn't want to be around me when I'm having one" she blurted.
"I bet you're exaggerating" I said.
She smiled and winked at me as if to say "Not really."
"So, tell me about yourself."
"Well, my parent's actually have been attending for a while, they're the Somerlyns".
"Oh, yes. I know them. They're wonderful people. Founding members of the church I think?"
"Yes, they are. I've been living in Alabama for the past several years, but my daughter and I just moved back."
"Your daughter? That would be Emily?"
