Interlude (25 page)

“And did you go?”

She shook her head. “I couldn't, Jon.”

“Why not? What finally made up your mind for you?”

“You, Jon! It was your baby too. I could have rationalized the rest, at least for the time being. But if a part of you was inside me, it was all I had left of you. How could I destroy your baby?”

Betty hadn't expected to cry. In fact she hadn't really meant to tell Jon all the grave details about the incident. She vividly remembered how she'd longed to be in his arms in Washington, feeling so desperately alone in that hotel room. Now, six months later, he was there, he knew, and he was holding her next to him, comforting her at last.

“I'm sorry, Betty.” Jon took a deep breath before he spoke. His voice was husky with emotion. “Is that why you haven't wanted to make love to me since I got back?”

“That's one reason. The other reason is that I guess I just want to wait until we're married this time, so everything will be perfect. I think God might like it better that way, if you know what I mean. But, Jon, I want you more than ever.”

He seemed bewildered. “Why didn't you talk to me about all this before? You just kept kind of pushing me away.”

“I know. I'm sorry.” Betty was as confused as he was. She shook her head, trying to explain her own actions.

“I guess I didn't want to discuss it with you outright because in spite of everything, I somehow wanted to keep that door open. I can't tell you how double-minded I've been, Jon. But after all we've gone through, I do want everything to be right.”

He held her face against his, and brushed the back of her hair with his hand. “I want it to be right too. That's why I haven't made an issue of it. As long as there isn't anything else wrong . . .”

“There's nothing wrong, Jon.
Nothing.
I love you more than ever.”

He sighed with evident relief. “Well, look, another week or so, and . . .” He kissed her sweetly. “I'm so glad we got that out in the open. I have to admit I've been feeling pretty bad.”

“Forgive me, Jon. Really. I should have brought it up right away.” Betty smiled at him gratefully, wiping her tears away with her hand.

He always understands. Always. It's amazing.

“So you like my new poem?”

“I love the poem, Betty. I love all your poems, but this one tells me our marriage is going to be all right.” He looked at it again.

“Why does it tell you that?”

“Because it says that you're taking a step of faith. You're admitting you're afraid, but you're willing to sing, willing to dance, and you want to believe. I think God will take care of the rest.”

Jon folded the paper and put in his shirt pocket. The sun was beginning to break through the pearly overcast as they left the tower behind. He took Betty's hand and began to laugh.

“Aren't we a pair? We love each other dearly, and we're both scared to death that getting married will ruin everything. Something tells me it's not supposed to be like that. Something tells me that we've got a lot to learn about marriage—
real
marriage.”

The elegant entrance to the Ritz-Carlton Hotel framed two attractive couples as they greeted each other warmly. Jon and Betty, after a day at Laguna Beach, had managed to change clothes and were now properly attired for a stylish dinner with Erica and Ken Townsend at the five-star hotel just a few miles south of Victoria Beach.

“This is going to cost a fortune,” Erica giggled as they strolled past the exquisite floral arrangements and fine art pieces that graced the hotel's lobby. “Are you sure you don't want to go to the Jolly Roger?”

“Don't be silly, Erica. No coffee shops tonight! Jon and I owe you two a lot more than a dinner at the Ritz.”

Since their return to California, Ken had been preparing Jon and Betty for their wedding with a premarital counseling course he required all candidates for marriage to take. At first they had been a little put off by his insistence on the program—it seemed so unromantic and dull. But as each session came and went, they had found themselves addressing issues and concerns that could potentially damage their relationship.

On their way into Ken's office the week before, Betty had confided in Jon, “I guess all this is forcing us to be practical, even though I'd rather just go off somewhere and neck.”

“Hold that thought,” Jon had responded quite enthusiastically. “Who says we can't do both?”

In fact, their conversation at Victoria Beach earlier had sprung from Ken's demand that they be open and honest with each other, not hiding their innermost fears or frustrations. Ken was determined to provide the men and women he united in marriage with guidelines for living together. It was his wedding gift to them.

“Your name?” the tuxedoed host inquired.

“Surrey-Dixon. We have reservations for four.”

“Right. This way, please.”

They could hear rich arpeggios being played on a grand piano as they made their way through the well-appointed café. It was the least expensive dining room in the hotel, but still lavish enough to make them feel quite regal. Betty recognized the pianist's melody as the love theme from
Phantom of the Opera.
“Just love me, that's all I ask of you,” the lyric said. It was one of her favorite songs.

Once they were settled at their table, a server brought their chosen bottle of wine and Ken proposed a toast. “Here's to a lifetime marriage and many, many years of love and understanding.”

Glasses clinked. Betty caught Jon's eye and smiled at him. She said, “Ken, thank you for all you're doing to make that toast come true.”

“Well, thank you for putting up with all my rhetoric,” he laughed. “Poor Erica has to live with me, and she knows I don't always practice what I preach.”

“You do pretty well, Ken,” his wife patted his arm consolingly, “you really do.”

“So what's the best marital advice you can give, Erica?” Jon asked the cleric's pretty wife.

She and Ken looked at each other for a moment before she answered. “Well, I'm sure you've already heard this from Ken, but we believe God is the third party in our marriage. The Bible says that a threefold cord is not easily broken, and our church considers marriage as one of the sacraments. That means that the Holy Spirit is invited into the union, and so His power becomes a factor in the relationship.”

“That means it's not just a relationship between two people anymore.” Ken completed his wife's thought. “It's sort of a holy love triangle.”

She nodded. “It's a three-party agreement, and He's the one with the real power to keep it together.”

“There's something else too.” Ken added. “When you marry in the presence of other believers, you are asking them to agree with you in prayer. There's power in that too.”

Jon said, “You know, Betty and I really thought about foregoing a formal ceremony and getting married by a chaplain in Weisbaden, but she wanted to invite a lot of friends to join us. I never thought about them agreeing with us in prayer, but it's a terrific idea, isn't it?”

“Jon, some couples think it's enough just to make love, to promise to be faithful to each other, and then to ask God's blessing on their agreement. But it's not enough at all. The church has been given authority by God to unite people in marriage. When a couple is married in the church, they aren't just promising to love forever. They are making a solemn vow to God and each other, and they're also receiving the Church's blessing.”

Jon glanced at Betty. She lowered her eyes. They had experienced a remarkable sense of closeness after making love for the first time seven months before. They had quite seriously made a verbal marital commitment at that time. Yet they had both sensed that their personal covenant hadn't been complete.

“So you think that the church's blessing and the prayers of other Christians make for a stronger relationship?”

“Jon, the dynamic of prayer and the power of the Holy Spirit aren't just religious ideas. They are profound, dramatic realities.”

Betty touched Erica's hand. Her question reflected the utmost concern of her heart. “So Erica, in light of that, you really believe love can last, don't you?”

Erica weighed her words carefully before she answered. “Well, that depends on what you mean by love, Betty. If you mean warm, fuzzy feelings, I'd have to say that they come and go. And if you mean passion, I'd say you have to work together at keeping that alive. But if you are asking if a loving relationship can last, of course it can. It not only lasts, it grows stronger and deeper with every passing year.”

Ken nodded, reading Betty's need for further reassurance. “Betty, this is your second marriage, and it's mine too. If you're like me, you've blamed yourself for a lot of things that went wrong the first time. Some of it may have been your fault, and it's good if you can acknowledge that. But it takes two people to make a marriage work. And they not only have to agree to make it work, they have to be
capable
of making it work.”

“That's why it's important to make the right choice in the first place,” Erica commented. “You can't just bring God into the picture and expect Him to change somebody's entire personality.”

Jon sighed. “That's interesting. You know, when I was in Beirut, I struggled with that very issue. I found myself taking all the blame for my first marriage's collapse. I felt like such a failure, I even wondered if it was wrong for me to marry Betty. But you're right—it takes two people.

“When I'm realistic about it, Carla simply wasn't emotionally capable of being married—at least not to me. Even though she would pretend to repent and reform, she had no real intention of changing. I certainly didn't do everything perfectly either, but I did my best. Looking back now, I really think I did.”

“I wish I could say that myself,” Ken scrutinized his wine glass as he spoke. “I didn't really do very much right at all. I came into my marriage to Erica knowing I had blown it the first time, and I mean I
really
blew it. But even at that, God has met me in my weaknesses and given me His strength. No matter how badly things have gone wrong in the past, it's all forgiven and forgotten. And the future belongs to Him.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of four artfully designed salads, and they all fell into admiring silence as they were being served. Betty felt warm and hopeful, encouraged by the exchange of ideas.

Thank God I insisted we wait to get married. I'm so glad Ken could be part of this.

“Ken, why don't you ask the blessing on this food,” Jon suggested. They all joined hands as Ken began to pray,

Our Father, we thank you for Jon and Betty, for their lives and the tremendous plans you have for them.

We ask that their feelings of love for each other be sustained.

We ask that the high esteem they have for each other remain untarnished.

We ask that Your wise counsel and strengthening presence never be ignored.

And we ask that the privilege of prayer always be exercised in their home, as they invite You to be the third party in their marriage.

Thank you for this happy occasion, for the food, and for the blessing of friendship.

For Jesus' sake, Amen.

Betty was trying to remember every word of Ken's prayer.
I wish I had that in writing. I'd sign it.

Erica's curiosity brought a lighter tone to the conversation. “So Betty, tell me about your honeymoon plans, or is that top secret information?”

“Only to a point. We're certainly not giving out addresses or phone numbers. But I can tell you this much—we were going to London for our honeymoon the last time, and we were planning to stay through Christmas. This time it looks like the best we can do is celebrate the Queen's birthday there, but that's what we're going to have to do.”

“Are you going to be in a hotel?”

“Oh, no way. That would cost a fortune. A friend of Jon's has offered us a flat outside the city, about twenty minutes from town by train, and he's also leaving us his car. We can use his place for a month's time, and after that we're going on to Africa to finish the report I was supposed to be doing when Jon was released.”

“That all sounds splendid. Can we come too? I could use a nice vacation about now.” Ken winked at Erica.

“Sorry,” Jon held up both hands. “This dinner is all you're getting out of our deal—no tagging along on our honeymoon, thank you very much, no matter how helpful you've been. I just hope some creative genius reporter doesn't try to follow us around England hoping for a tabloid scoop: ‘Former Hostage On Secret Honeymoon in London!'”

Once dinner was finished, they toured the hotel together—gift shops, pools, gardens, and verandas, finally saying their farewells while they waited for their cars. “We've got one more session with you, Ken. We'll see you Wednesday afternoon.”

“Thanks so much for a delightful evening,” Ken waved good-bye as he tipped the valet and got into the driver's seat.

Erica hugged her friend warmly. She looked into Betty's eyes and quietly said, “Don't worry so much Betty. There really are happy endings in life, and you're going to have one. I believe it with all my heart. You'll see!”

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments; love is not love . . .
Which alters when it alteration finds . . .

Jon Surrey-Dixon quoted the sonnet with surprising aplomb, holding his bride's hands in his.

. . . Or bends with the remover to remove.
O, No, it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Betty, speaking as courageously as possible, continued the recitation,