Tessa McDermid - Family Stories (15 page)

"Frank, please."

"You choose, Marian. I'm going to the seminary. You're my wife, and I want you to go with me. But if you can't... I'll see a lawyer while I'm up there."

How could he trap her like this? A divorce? No decent woman was divorced. He wouldn't have a problem finding another wife but what man would marry a divorced woman?

She squeezed her eyes shut, wil ing her breath to come back, her voice not to shake. "Fine. I'll go with you, Frank."

His arms slid around her shoulders, and he tugged her stiff body against his. "You'll see, Marian, this is the right decision. I have a cal ing, your father said. I'm good with people. I do well in sales. Bringing people to the Lord is just the ultimate sel ing job."

She didn't say anything, afraid she'd reveal her true feelings. She would go to the seminary with him but she would have nothing to do with his classes, his col eagues or the duties of a minister's wife.

Chapter 10

Des Moines, Iowa

June 1930

The seminary work was difficult. Frank had dropped out of school and studying had always been hard. Now he was in classes with men who'd graduated from high school, many with honors. He struggled with the courses, reading late into the night and during every possible minute of the day.

Marian refused to take the classes offered for wives. "I grew up in a parsonage, Frank. Those classes can't teach me anything I didn't learn from my mother."

"But it looks odd, Marian. You're the only wife not attending the classes."

She favored him with a long, cool stare. "I'm also the only wife who doesn't meekly fol ow her husband around, waiting for his orders. I'm here, Frank. That's al I can offer you."

"But Brother Grimes said—"

"I'm sick to death of Brother Grimes!" she interrupted. "He's not God, Frank. Now, go on with your studying.

I'm going out."

"Another late night?"

"Yes. My friend Jenny's shift isn't over until nine. You don't have to wait up for me."

"I don't like you out so late."

She draped her coat around her shoulders. "Jenny'l keep me safe. She's lived here al her life."

He wanted to say more, demand she stay home. He hadn't met Jenny but she'd become Marian's closest friend since their arrival in Des Moines. He had a feeling they frequented dance hal s. He couldn't risk the other couples hearing them fight. The walls were thin and after several loud discussions, he'd noticed furtive looks from their neighbors. He was careful to keep future conversations low and private.

The apartment was empty when he returned from classes the next day. Marian had been asleep when he got up and he'd moved quietly, letting her indulge herself with the extra rest. He had guiltily enjoyed the peaceful atmosphere while he readied himself for class. They seemed to argue every time they talked these days.

The words were blurring on the page when he final y snapped the book closed. Practical y midnight, and no sign of Marian. He slid under the covers, leaving one fight on for her return.

A thump and a giggle woke him. Marian stood in the middle of the room, her hat tilted sideways, her mouth half-curved in a smile. "Sorry, sweetie, I didn't mean to wake you." She hiccuped and giggled.

"Have you been drinking?" Frank crawled out of bed, his voice a thin whisper.

She pressed her hand against her mouth, muffling her giggle. "A little."

"Marian, it's il egal!"

She fel on the bed, kicking her shoes off. The first one landed on the floor with a loud thud and Frank rushed to catch the second one. Her hat toppled onto the rug and bounced along, ending up under an armchair across the room. He retrieved it and sank down in the chair.

"You are so dul sometimes, Frank. You should come with me, meet my friends. 'Course, I'm not sure they'd like you. You've become so stuffy since we moved here."

She staggered over and climbed into his lap, flinging her arms around his neck. "You want to have some fun, darling Frank? Show me you're not too stuffy?"

He carried her to the bed. "It's late, Marian. I have class in the morning. And you need to sleep. You're going to have a terrible headache when you wake up."

She sniffed, then curled up on her pil ow. "Al right, I'll go to sleep. But you're gonna be mighty lonely with only your Bible for comfort."

She was asleep in minutes. He undressed her, then tucked the covers around her shoulders. She gave a great sigh and he waited, but she didn't wake up.

The next morning, she groaned when he bent to kiss her goodbye. "What time is it?" she muttered.

"Seven-thirty. I'll make some coffee and toast for you."

She shuddered and burrowed under the covers. "Don't bother. Leave the curtains closed, and I'll take care of everything when I get up."

"We can go out for dinner tonight."

"Don't talk about food." Her voice was muffled by the blankets.

Frowning, he stared at the mound in the bed. "Marian, you aren't pregnant, are you?"

"Pregnant? I hope not! It's probably the ghastly booze I had last night. Now, go to class and let me sleep."

When he came back to the apartment for a quick bite of lunch, she was gone. The covers were jumbled on the bed and the few dishes in the sink showed that she'd managed to eat something, after al . His class load in the afternoon was heavy and he had little time to worry about her. When he was through with his final class, he hurried back to their apartment, determined to keep her home that night.

She was stil not back. He tidied the smal apartment, then changed his shirt. She dashed into the room just as he was deciding she wouldn't return.

"Sorry I'm late." She gave him a peck on the cheek. "I won't be a minute."

She rushed from their room and down the hal to the community bathroom. When she came back, he stared at her in astonishment.

Her long hair, which she usual y wore braided around her head or in a soft bun, was cut short. Instead of the thick mass that only he saw in its glorious release, tiny wisps of hair covered her ears. Bangs barely touched her eyebrows. She looked stunning but the shock was too much.

"What have you done to your hair? Why didn't you talk to me first?"

She gawked at him. "It's my hair, Frank. Why should I discuss it with you?"

Anger fil ed him then. Anger at her refusal to take classes, to participate in any of the seminary activities.

Anger at her evenings out, her drinking, her taunts about his studies.

His hand struck out, catching the rack where he'd put the dishes to dry. The plates and cups, silverware, fel to the floor, the sound of breaking glassware echoing around the smal room.

Her eyes widened and she backed up. As quickly as his anger had risen, it was gone.

"Marian, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He'd never been the kind of man who threw things in a rage.

He lifted his hand to caress her cheek, to assure her he was sorry, that his anger had vanished.

She took another step away from him, moving closer to the door. "Please don't touch me, Frank. I'm going out.

I can't sleep here tonight. I—I—" Her voice caught and when he heard that, his heart ached. "I don't know if I'll be back."

The door closed behind her. Frank stared at it, waiting for her to come back, to accept his apology, to say that she was partly to blame. But the door remained firmly shut.

He sank onto the bed, his face in his hands. What had he done? According to the Bible, the man was to be the head of the household but he didn't think any of the teachers would condone his loss of control. A man was to protect his wife and children, care for them.

And what would he do without Marian? He had threatened divorce in Winston but it had been an idle threat, words he'd thrown out when she'd refused to go with him. He had never intended to make it official.

He sat on the bed, barely conscious of the passing time. Dusk had begun to fal , the sky a dark blue outside the window. His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten. Worrying about food when his marriage and possibly his career were both over seemed petty.

He needed to see Brother Grimes. The man had probably gone home, but he had to try. He raced across the campus, stopping at the imposing brick building that housed the administrative offices. A few lights were stil on, and he prayed the president would be one of those dedicated souls.

"Ah, Frank, what can I do for you?" The elderly man opened his office door, ushering Frank inside.

"M-my wife left me, sir." Breathless, Frank held his hat in his hands. "We had a fight, and she walked out."

"Sit down." Brother Grimes indicated the two easy chairs; he waited until Frank was seated before sitting down himself. "Now tel me what happened."

Frank poured out the facts of their move to Des Moines, Marian's refusal to take classes, her late nights, her new friends, her drinking. He ended with the haircut.

"She's not the woman I married," he finished. "She's become wild, sir, and I can't control her. If I can't convince my own wife to be a Christian, how can I convince others?"

"Wait a minute, Frank." Brother Grimes stroked his beard, his eyes dark above the white whiskers."Marian may have done some things that bother you, but she is a Christian. She grew up with a strong background, and that doesn't disappear. My suspicion is that she's simply enjoying herself in a big city."

Frank was certain she was enjoying herself. And now, with his angry words, he'd sent her back into that city.

"How long have you been here?" Brother Grimes asked.

"Six months."

"And in that period, how often have you been with your wife?"

Frank shifted in his chair. Except for a few minutes grabbed between classes, usual y a rush for meals, he hadn't spent any time with Marian. He was so busy studying, it was no wonder she went out at night looking for fun.

Brother Grimes's smile was kind. "A common problem with many of our married couples. And it could be even more of an issue with your wife."

Frank frowned. "What do you mean, sir?"

Brother Grimes hesitated, his thumb rubbing his chin. "What I'm about to say is in the strictest confidence, Frank. I consider Brother Cooper one of my closest friends. We met years ago and I count him as a spiritual giant in his study of the scriptures. That's one of the reasons I was so wil ing to accept you into the seminary."

Frank ducked his head in acknowledgment of the honor he was receiving. His own knowledge of the scriptures was woefully lacking, as he'd discovered in his classes. His mother had taken him to church, and he'd heard the Bible stories, but the deep meaning behind them had never interested him before.

He sometimes found the comments of his teachers and fel ow students confusing. Early in one of his classes, he'd offered the opinion that Jesus had been speaking to the common man, so perhaps His stories were simpler than everyone was making them out to be. The silence that had greeted this statement had convinced him he had much to learn and needed to keep his mouth shut. He was a newcomer in the study of God's word.

He settled into his chair, determined to listen to Brother Grimes and learn any secrets that would aid him in better understanding his wife. He loved Marian; he'd made a commitment to her before God. But most days, he had no idea how to react to her.

"I often disagreed with Brother Cooper's treatment of his wife and daughter, Frank. I don't mean this in disrespect but your father-in-law had many opportunities to travel elsewhere, to leave Winston and share his gifts and talents with other communities. Instead, he chose to sequester himself in that little town, to shelter the women of his family from the rest of the world."

Grimes swiveled around and picked up his large Bible from the ornate book stand behind the desk. "We are not to be tempted by the world, Frank, of that there is no doubt. And yet, there is another temptation that can be as damaging to our souls. That is the temptation to ignore what is going on around us, to forget that we are cal ed to be the leaven, the salt of the earth."

He tapped a passage in the open Bible. "Brother Cooper makes a difference in his community. His time there has been valuable, and he has seen to the spiritual wel -being of his flock. Sometimes, though, I wonder if he's been blind to the real will of God. If he has silenced that voice within himself, the voice that tel s him what God expects him to do."

Brother Grimes clapped a hand on Frank's shoulder. "You must listen to that voice, Frank. You must hear what is being said to you. Not what others want you to do. What is God's will for you, at this time and in this place?"

He cleared his throat. The lamplight cast a halo around his head, and he appeared much as Frank thought an ancient prophet would have looked. The old man steepled his hands on the desk. "You mustn't forget your wife, Frank. You made a commitment to her that is just as sacred as your commitment to God. She needs you and you need her."

He gave Frank a reassuring smile. "No doubt she'll be back tomorrow. She's a responsible young woman, and those vows you shared are sacred to her. In the meantime, I suggest you do some serious praying about how you can balance your family life and your ministry. Otherwise, you won't succeed at either."

Frank considered those words as he retraced his steps to their apartment. A snowflake drifted down and he glanced at the sky. Snow. He hoped Marian was al right.

He couldn't imagine life without her. Was he hearing God's voice or Brother Cooper's when he'd decided to be a minister? God had sent him to Winston to find Marian; he was certain of that. If being a minister's wife was so difficult for her, maybe he needed to look elsewhere for his career.

Inside the apartment, he was surprised to see Marian sitting on the sofa. Her grin was sheepish.

"I didn't have anywhere to go, Frank. And I didn't even pack a bag."

He gathered her into his arms, rocking her back and forth, inhaling her scent, the softness of her skin. "I'm so sorry, Marian." He kissed the back of her neck. "You have every right to cut your hair." His lips nuzzled her skin and he felt her shiver. He leaned back until he could see her face. "Marian, we have to talk. We need to make a few changes in our life."