The Pastor's Wife (18 page)

She pursed her lips and glared out the window, as if the sheer force of her will could make the snow stop. She rolled her eyes upward and watched the fat flakes fall out of a leaden sky.

“God, I know I haven’t talked to you much in the last few years. And now that I’ve started back up, I’m asking for a lot
of favors. But I could sure use a break in the weather today. Around five o’clock, if that works for you.”

As if an immediate answer to her prayer, the wind died down for a moment, but just as quickly another gust whipped the flakes into the frenzy of a cyclone.

Maura smiled as she walked away from the window. If only it were that easy.

She pulled open her dresser drawer and chose a black turtleneck. Despite the weather, a wonderful feeling of peace and satisfaction wrapped itself around her. She’d worked hard for this day, and she intended to enjoy it—even if she had to stand in a snowdrift to greet the four or five people who braved the elements to attend the opening.

When she finally stood in front of the theatre, warmth enveloped Maura despite the frigid wind biting her cheeks and nose. She never should have worried. The citizens of Granger were as predictable as the post office—neither sleet nor snow would keep them from attending a civic function, especially when it involved free food.

Maura jumped as Rachel dug an elbow into her ribs. “See, I told you people would show up. Curiosity trumps comfort every time.”

Maura leaned closer to her friend, answering out of the corner of her mouth. “Still, we’d better move this along before we all freeze solid out here.”

Saying another silent prayer of thanks that the former heavy snowfall had turned into barely there flurries, she pulled her coat closer around her and stepped up to the podium. “If I can have your attention!”

She waited as the people standing in front quieted down. One by one, they turned and shushed the people behind them. When she was confident everyone could hear, she continued.

“I’d like to thank you all for coming. This is truly a great day for me. For all of us. Before we cut the ribbon, I’d like to dedicate this theatre to the memory of Miss Hattie Granger.” Applause rippled through the crowd. “She was quite a lady, and I can’t thank her enough for believing in me and giving me the chance to restore this wonderful old building.”

Maura looked out at the people gathered in front of the theatre, and something stirred in her chest, like the rapid flutter of hummingbird wings. She had spent so many years with her heart hardened toward this town and everybody in it. She’d seen them as adversaries, people who expected her to live up to a standard she couldn’t achieve. But now, she saw them differently. Yes, they’d made assumptions about the kind of wife Maura should be, but she’d never stood up for herself. She’d made assumptions too, thinking they wouldn’t accept the real her. Rather than talking to people and sharing her own goals and passions, she’d stuffed her feelings and tried to make everybody happy. In the end, she only made herself and everyone around her miserable.

A rumbling whisper moved through the crowd. They were impatient, hugging themselves tightly and stamping their feet to ward off the cold. She couldn’t make them wait any longer. But she didn’t know how to put into words all that she was feeling.

“I’d like to thank all the citizens of Granger,” she blurted out. “For welcoming me back and giving me another chance to be a part of this community.”

All noise and movement in the crowd stopped. Panic seized Maura. Had she misspoken? Maybe they weren’t glad to have her back after all. Maybe they’d just been putting up with her in order to get their theatre back, and after the six months were over, they’d run her out of town.

But then a few people started clapping. Someone in the back whistled. Finally the rest of the crowd joined in, clapping and cheering.

Maura smiled as she batted snowflakes from her face. The skies had opened up again. As much as she’d like to stand there basking in the moment, she had to move the crowd inside soon. There was just one more thing to do before the ribbon cutting.

Where was Nick?

Maura scanned the crowd. She turned to Rachel, put her hands together as if in prayer and mouthed
“Nick?”
Rachel responded with a shrug of her shoulders. Turning back to the crowd, Maura searched each face, wondering if she was missing him beneath a hood or a scarf. He had to be there. He’d been so pleased last night when she asked him to say a blessing at the grand opening. He wouldn’t stand her up today. Would he?

A different kind of movement stirred in the crowd. It began at the back, people sidestepping to clear a path and moving back into place. Maura slowly exhaled as Nick stepped up to the podium.

He stood beside her, pulling her into a quick, one-armed hug. “I think I speak for everyone here when I say it's good to have you back.” Confirming his statement, the crowd erupted into a fresh round of applause. He leaned in closer and whispered, “Sorry I’m late. I had a heck of a time finding a parking place.”

His breath warmed her cheek. Maura grinned up at him and squeezed his waist. Late she could handle. He made it, and that's what mattered. “Would you mind praying now, before we turn into popsicles?”

She felt the rumble of Nick's laugh, despite the many layers of winter-wear between them. He turned his attention to the crowd, holding up his hands.

“Okay, folks, it's cold out here, and I know we’d all like to get inside and check out the place. But we’ve got one more bit of business to attend to. Please join me in thanking the One who makes everything possible.”

Maura bowed her head along with everyone else. As Nick thanked God for the blessings He’d given them, her heart joined in.
Thank you, Lord, for bringing me home, and bringing me back to You.

“Amen,” Nick said with gusto. He turned to Maura and winked. “You’ve got it from here.”

Maura joined Rachel in front of a wide, red ribbon stretched across the front doors. With a grin splitting her face, Rachel handed her a huge pair of scissors.

“You’ve worked hard for this, girl,” Rachel said. “Do the honors.”

Maura embraced her friend and business partner, holding the scissors aside so as not to impale either of them. “
We’ve
worked hard. And this,” she said, hoisting the scissors, “is big enough for both of us to grab a piece. Come on, let's do the honors together.”

The two women cut the ribbon. The ends fluttered down and away, a startling contrast to the snow-covered ground where they landed. Maura and Rachel pulled the doors open and ushered their first visitors into the newly remodeled Music Box Theatre.

People rushed in, stomping their snowy boots on the doormats. Some headed straight for the food tables set up in the lobby. Others looked around, eyes wide. Maura caught bits and pieces of conversation as people swirled past her.

“Can you believe this?”

“Look, they’ve got Jujubes in the candy counter!”

“It's even nicer than I remember it!”

Maura stripped off her coat, her mind spinning.

I love being part of a community.

I am so blessed.

I’ll need to clean the carpet again.

After the successful grand opening of the refurbished theatre, Maura became busier than ever. Movie revival nights were well attended, and more than one group contacted her about renting out the facility. But the biggest and most unexpected hit was the acting classes.

Intrigued by the offer of a free first class, quite a few people signed up to try them out. So many, in fact, she had to split the group into two separate classes. It came as quite a surprise to see Oren Thacker's name on the list. She still didn’t know him well, but she remembered his displeasure at the council meeting when she’d talked about the Christmas Gala. He probably wanted to check up on her and assess Granger's newest business. She certainly didn’t expect him to have much aptitude for acting.

She was wrong.

At the first class, she went over some acting basics. and gave each student a short monologue. With a perverse sense of satisfaction she handed Oren the soliloquy from
Hamlet
. It wasn’t really fair to assign Shakespeare on the first day, but Oren had been pretty hard on her the first time she’d been on his turf. Now she’d see if he could take as good as he gave.

Oren wasn’t fazed when he took the scene. Minutes later, she knew why. His voice, which she’d never paid much attention to before, was rich and warm. As he read, he became the tortured prince of Denmark. His deep baritone found the subtle nuances in Shakespeare's English and took the class to a place far from their little town in Ohio. No one in the room
made a sound as he spoke, and when he finished, they burst into applause. Oren shook his head, as if returning to the theatre from some other realm. A gentle, almost shy smile drew up the corners of his mouth, and his eyes sparkled with the joy that had so obviously been missing when they sat in the church meeting room.

Conviction poked Maura's heart. She’d never seen Oren express any emotion other than annoyance, so she’d assumed him incapable of feeling anything else. Obviously, her assessment was way off the mark. And if she’d been wrong about that, what else had she been wrong about? She’d let her hurt over the past color her perception of the present, keeping her from seeing the real Oren. How many other people had she treated the same way? It was an unpleasant realization.

After the class, she approached him privately. “Oren, you’re amazing. Where did you learn to act?”

For the first time, Oren smiled directly at her. “I studied drama in college, but I had to give it up when my father fell ill. I came back to Granger and took over the hardware store. You could say I traded Shakespeare for sheetrock.” He tried to joke it off, but regret tinged his words.

“Thacker and Sons Hardware is a long way from Broadway.”

He nodded solemnly. “True, but it's been a good living. Allowed me to provide for my family. And look what God's done now. I never expected you to hold acting classes here. It takes me back to when I was a young man full of dreams.”

Amazing! Maura's simple classes had resurrected Oren's dreams on the Music Box stage. “I hope you decide to stay in the class. Or maybe you should help me teach. You’re certainly good enough.”

Oren shook his head. “Oh, no, I want to be part of the class, at least for now. It's one way I can support the theatre and show you my appreciation.”

“Appreciation for what?”

“For not letting me scare you off at that board meeting.”

Maura frowned. “Were you trying to scare me off?”

Oren glanced down at his shoes. “I wanted to make sure you were serious about coming back here and making something of the theatre. And I didn’t want to see Pastor Nick get hurt again.” He took a deep breath, the internal struggle clear on his face. “I guess I need to apologize for that too. I never thought about your side of the story. But seeing you now, how you’ve embraced the town and become part of it, I figure something pretty serious must have happened to run you off the first time.”

Maura nodded, unable to speak.

“Whatever happened, that's between you and God. And Pastor Nick, of course. For what it's worth, I think you’re working out fine here.”

“It's worth a lot.” Maura drew him into an impulsive hug. Stiff and motionless at first, he finally gave her an awkward pat on the back.

“We don’t have to get all mushy like this every time I come to class, do we?” he asked, pulling away.

Maura laughed. Now
that's
the Oren she knew. “Only if it's part of a scene. And speaking of scenes, how would you like to do us a huge favor and join our Christmas pageant?”

“I thought all the parts were already cast.”

“They are, but Stu Pierson got called out of town this morning for a family matter. He was supposed to play the innkeeper in one of the skits, but he might not be back in time. I didn’t know how I’d ever replace him so close to the performance, but now here you are, an answer to prayer. I’d be so thankful if you would step in.”

Oren's chest puffed out a bit. Clearly, it pleased him to be considered an answer to someone's prayer. “When's rehearsal?”

T
here's a saying in the theatre that the worse the dress rehearsal is, the better the actual performance will be. Maura certainly hoped it was true because that meant the Christmas Gala should be worthy of a Tony Award.

A moving pack of bodies crammed the backstage area of the Music Box Theatre. And every one of them seemed to have some kind of problem that only Maura could solve.

“Ms. Sullivan, I can’t find my costume.”

“Mrs. Nelson's in charge of costumes. Go check with her, sweetie.” Maura pointed the anxious fifth-grade girl toward Rachel, who stood by a clothing rack, handing out garments faster than a sales clerk at a clearance sale.

Maura turned her attention back to her clipboard but felt a tugging on her pant leg. She looked down to see five-year-old Timmy Reyes, decked out in shepherd garb, gazing wide-eyed up at her. “Yes, Timmy?”