The Pastor's Wife Wears Biker Boots (27 page)

“Y-yes, Your Honor.” Patrick’s voice shook.

“You obviously have a loving family here today as well, parents who care about you a great deal. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes, Your Honor.” His voice broke, and he choked back tears of shame. His sincerity wasn’t lost on the judge.

“I have the authority to fine you, order you to do community service, and place you in the Hancock Boys Home.”

She paused, I think, for effect. She fixed her glasses, looked down at her papers, and shuffled them around. Her pen flew as she scribbled something on a few pages and handed them to the bailiff. He nodded and handed the paper back. The courtroom was quiet and thick with anticipation. I held my breath.

“Patrick Donovan, because of the support I see in this courtroom, and because this is your first offense, I’m going to suspend your ability to obtain a driver’s license until you are eighteen years old. I will waive state custody, community service, and a fine and place you on probation in custody of your parents. I suggest you embrace the support you have behind you and make yourself worthy of the love in your life. Many young men your age have no one and get in less trouble.

“Make no mistake. This is serious business and that’s why I’m convicting you with consequences. If you drink again before you’re twenty-one, I won’t hesitate to place you in state custody and yank your license. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?” She shot him a steely glare over the top of her glasses.

“Yes, Your Honor.” Patrick’s voice sounded young and meek.

The judge removed her glasses and looked right at me. I couldn’t breathe. “Reverend and Mrs. Donovan, I’m releasing him to your custody. He needs to report to the court every month for a drug test until probation is over on his eighteenth birthday. I’m also ordering him into recovery classes for teen alcoholics. If he meets all the conditions of his probation while in your custody, this Class C misdemeanor will be expunged. You should know this is for your benefit because your car insurance will go up an exorbitant amount should he have a record when he begins to drive. If he fails to meet the conditions of his probation, however, I will fine him fifteen hundred dollars and place him in state custody. Are we clear?”

“Yes, Your Honor. Thank you,” Aaron spoke. I tried to speak but nothing came out. Thirty months of drug tests and classes. But he would be home. I could live with that.

“That is all.” The judge banged her gavel. “Court is adjourned.”

The bikers held their emotions in check until we filed through the doors and made it to the hall. Once Patrick’s support team was sure the courtroom stood empty, the guys ripped off their neckties, let out whoops and hollers, and threw them in the air. Top buttons were unbuttoned and jackets removed. I realized then what a sacrifice it was for them to appear all dressed up. This wasn’t their first choice in fashion apparel. They’d rather be in jeans and leathers.

Patrick stood beside Clarence, moping, looking down at the floor.

“You OK, honey?” I gave him a little shoulder hug.

He shrugged. “I feel stupid.”

“Don’t feel stupid, son.” Aaron patted him on the back. “Feel grateful and thankful God loves you enough to let you get caught.”

“Yeah, I guess so. It’s a total drag I don’t get to learn to drive now.”

“But it’s better than jail,” I said. “And it could be a lot worse. You could have hurt someone, mainly yourself. But even in our sin, God protects us.”

“I know,” Patrick said. “We fall down, and He still picks us back up. I know that now.”

“Me, too.” I hugged him. “Me, too.”

“Oh no, what time is it?” Aaron looked at his watch. “It’s four ’o seven.”

I gasped. “Danny’s recital! We’ll be late.”

37

“What time does the recital start?” Aaron and I ran down the courthouse stairs.

“It starts at seven, but he’s supposed to be there by six. C’mon, we’ve got to hurry.” I pulled the sleeve of Aaron’s jacket to get him to rush. We couldn’t mess this up for Daniel. He was playing a solo concerto tonight, and his teacher said she had a surprise announcement for him.

“That’s two whole hours from now. Kirstie, calm down.” Aaron slowed to a walk and pulled my arm. I removed my arm from his hand and kept jogging.

“By the time we get back to the house, listen to Danny practice, and get the boys ready and fed, it’ll be late. We need to get going.”

Aaron stopped. “I’d planned to visit Sister Burgess in the hospital while we’re here in Wabash.” He looked at his watch. He had no sense of time.

“There isn’t time, Aaron. Please.” I turned and saw everyone had followed us out to the parking lot.

“I’ll take you home,” Atticus said. “I caged it today.” When you didn’t ride a motorcycle, you rode a cage—a vehicle on four wheels.

“Are you sure?” I looked at Opal and back at him.

“Doesn’t Opal live in Eel Falls? Yes, I’m sure.” He laughed again.

Opal nodded. “Lily dropped me off on her way to work. Atticus is taking me home. Can we come to the recital? We’d love to hear Danny play.” Opal loved music.

With all the stress of Patrick’s court hearing, I hadn’t even thought of inviting anyone. “Of course,” I said. “You’re always welcome.”

“Where’s this shindig?” Atticus waved Aaron to the van and steered me to his car.

“The Peabody Center. In the first meeting room on the left.” I waved good-bye to Aaron and let Atticus push me into the backseat of his pickup truck.

“We’ll be there.” He buckled my seatbelt as if I were a little child, stood, and cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Hey, everybody, if you wanna go hear Daniel play the fiddle follow me.”

Atticus and Opal dropped Patrick and me off at the house where I fixed a quick supper, got the boys dressed, and managed to push them out the door and into the backseat of Atticus’s truck by 5:45 PM. We were only fifteen minutes from the Peabody Center.

“Atticus, thank you. I tried to call Aaron on his cell, but there’s no answer.” I crawled into the front of the cab beside him. Opal wasn’t in the truck. “Where’s Opal?”

Atticus shrugged. “She had something she had to do real quick. She’s gonna get there as soon as she can.”

Patrick went willingly to Daniel’s recital this time. I couldn’t tell if he was tired or a little bit humbled after today’s events. I listened to the boys talking in the backseat.

“Break a leg, Daniel,” Patrick encouraged his brother.

“Leg, Daniel,” Timmy echoed.

“Thanks. Do you have to go to jail, Patrick?”

I hadn’t even had time to talk to Daniel about what happened today. I didn’t know what Daniel knew about the court hearing. I assumed Patrick had told him something about it.

“Nah,” Patrick said. “They went easy on me. I still have to do some stuff, but they don’t have to worry about me getting in trouble again. I’ve learned my lesson.”

“Well, if you did have to go to jail, I would visit you.”

Patrick rested his arm on Daniel’s shoulders. “Thanks, bro.”

“Thanks, bro.” Timmy flicked his fingers in front of his eyes.

After we arrived, I got Timmy and Patrick situated in a seat toward the back of the room in case Aaron was late. Since we had such a long wait before the recital started, I’d brought the portable DVD player loaded with hours of
Cops
episodes for Timmy. He rocked and giggled and watched his favorite show. I’d give him his iPod for the recital since violin music sent him into a meltdown. I didn’t want him breaking into the
Cops
theme song in the middle of the concert.

I settled into my chair to read the program as the room filled with parents and family members. A number of the bikers who’d been in court earlier in the day arrived and took seats near Atticus and me. I was too tired to mingle and talk but did whisper prayers of thanks for my new friends.

I turned off my cell phone ringer and called Lily to invite her to come, but she didn’t answer. Opal hadn’t arrived yet, either. No one from church was in the audience when the concert began. Not even Aaron.

The recital’s first performers, three-to-five-year olds in the beginning strings class, walked to the front and performed with the sweetness of a cotton candy stand. Briefly, I wondered what it might be like to dress a little girl in fluffy, cloud-like dresses and silky ribbons and bows. But I wasn’t sorry I had boys. I’d always wanted boys and was glad God had blessed me with them.

An hour into the recital, Daniel stepped up to play as Mrs. Lyang’s star student. He scanned the audience looking for Aaron.

Atticus gave him a thumbs up, and Daniel smiled.

I turned on my cell phone video camera to record for Aaron and sat mesmerized as my son played Mozart:
Violin Concerto No. 4 in D Major
.

His bow lovingly caressed the strings with precise and measured strokes. His vibrato, mature for a youngster, sang like a gentle brook in a quiet forest. I couldn’t take my eyes off the long nimble fingers that danced along the strings in perfect time.

He played with his eyes closed, cradling the violin under his chin, his face mirroring the phrasing of the music. At times his eyes opened and he smiled, completely in his element both as a musician and a performer. I hardly recognized the little boy who loved collecting bugs and catching bullfrogs in the pond. He stood on stage completely autonomous—an entity wholly apart from myself—utterly frail yet unquestionably strong. He immersed himself fully in the music, used his violin to speak to each one of us in the audience individually.

Tears came to my eyes. I ached in its beauty. Even his teacher was moved as she accompanied him on the piano. It seemed Daniel sensed exactly what Mozart felt when he wrote the concerto.

He played flawlessly. At the end of his performance, his teacher awarded him as Student of the Year. Out of all her students, she chose him to play in the youth symphony in Indianapolis. He would audition for his chair position in two weeks and had a lot of practice ahead of him.

“Do you really enjoy playing the violin, Daniel, or do you play because you think it pleases me?” I’d asked him a few weeks ago when he was frustrated with a section of his concerto.

“You know how you feel when you ride your motorcycle?” He rosined his bow and didn’t look up.

“Oh yeah, free and wild and happy.”

“That’s how I feel when I play my violin.” Without a beat, he returned to his practice.

I never asked him again what his motives were. God made Daniel to play music. The violin was as much a part of him as the left arm that held the instrument close to his heart.

After the recital, Mrs. Lyang drew me aside. “Danny is truly gifted.” Her Japanese lilt softened her voice. “I am honored to be his teacher. He has perfect pitch and most excellent technique. I see this talent two times in my teaching career. It pleases me how hard he practices. He will be professional violinist.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Lyang. You are an excellent teacher.”

She bowed.

We left with Atticus and walked to the parking lot. Opal hadn’t shown up for the recital, and I didn’t know what to say.

We all piled into Atticus’s truck.

I was exhausted, but I tried to sound cheerful for Daniel’s sake. “I’m sure Daddy and Opal had good reasons why they were unable to come. But did you see how many people were there for you? Isn’t that wonderful?”

No answer came from the backseat. There was a sense in all of us that something was wrong.

I kept chattering. “Danny, did I ever tell you that your great-great-grandpa was a fiddle player? He traveled all over the place playing for barn dances back in the 20s.”

“I know, Mom. You tell me that at least once a day.”

Atticus started to sing “Turkey in the Straw,” and I joined in. My nerves were pretty much frazzled, but I gave it a good try.

When we pulled onto our street in Eel Falls, we saw the church parking lot full of cars.

What was going on?

My stomach tied in those familiar knots again. I knew now why Opal and Aaron weren’t at the recital.

“Why are all those cars at church, Mom?” Patrick asked.

“I’m not sure.”

One thing I was definitely sure of: it couldn’t be good.

38

After Atticus dropped us off, I popped popcorn and let the boys play before I called Aaron on his cell.

“What’s going on?” I tried not to sound panicked.

Aaron blew air into the phone. “On my way to the recital, I stopped at the church to check my messages and caught a secret meeting.”

“Don’t tell me. Norman and Bernice.” I plopped onto the couch and rolled my eyes.

“Yes, but I foiled their plot to lock me out of the church. It’s a mess up here.” He sounded annoyed.

“Do you want me to come up?” I didn’t know what I could do other than hold his hand. Or say things I shouldn’t.

“No, don’t. I don’t think you need to be up here at all. Stay put and attend to the kids.”

“OK, if you’re sure. I need to put Timmy to bed anyway. I’m letting Daniel stay up late and watch television with Patrick. Daniel was amazing tonight, Aaron. You would have been proud of him.”

“I am proud of him. And I’m angry I missed his recital because of this.” Aaron sighed into the phone. “Try not to worry about stuff up here. Timmy and the boys come first. I’ll tell you all about it when I get home.”

I rested my arm over my eyes. My whole body ached. “Are Opal and Lily there?”

“They were at first, but I asked them to go home and pray. You can call them if you want.”

I called them immediately, and by the time I had Timmy in bed, they arrived at my front door. I took the boys upstairs with popcorn and a rare treat of soda to watch the movie.

“Is Dad OK?” Patrick looked scared. His nervousness was probably my fault. In my exhaustion, I wasn’t hiding my concern very well.

“He’s fine. Don’t worry. God’s in control.” I kissed the boys and went back downstairs. I knew they wouldn’t sleep until their dad got home. We’d been through difficult late meetings before, and the boys knew they ended with consequences.