Until the End of Time (5 page)

And just as Jenny had been until she met Bill, Azaya was so busy with so many projects, she never had time for a social life. She was
in the office all the time, and Jenny always urged her to go out and have some fun.

“Just like you, right?” Azaya teased her. “When was the last time you and Bill went out? You work late every night.”

“That’s different.” Jenny smiled at her. “I’m married, and I’m older than you are. Besides, Bill has exams.” He was wrapping up all his final classes, finishing his term papers, and completing his thesis for his master’s. By the time Jenny was deep into the resort collection with her designer clients, in mid-March, Bill was three months from graduation, and struggling to get everything done. He was grateful that Jenny was busy too, and happy not to go out. They planned to celebrate in June and take a vacation. But until then, neither had time for fun. And they were happy with what they were doing, so it didn’t matter. And they knew it was only temporary. After Bill graduated, they’d have more time.

He was in the process of applying to churches at the moment. He had written to dozens of Episcopal churches in the city and nearby suburbs, hoping to find one that needed a young minister freshly out of school. He didn’t want to commute for many hours a day, and where he worked had to be close to the city for Jenny’s career. She was too busy and had too many clients and projects to commute. And everything she did was based in New York. She ran from one meeting to the next all day, looking at new designs, consulting with her clients about fabrics, discussing the direction they were taking with the next collection, and new trends. Bill knew he couldn’t consider a job that was too far away. But so far, no one had offered him one. He had recently listed himself with a service that sent out inquiries about positions in churches all over the United States, but he
had been very clear that he had to stay in New York. And every place he had applied to in the city had turned him down. They had no openings and the same was true in the suburbs closest to New York. He wasn’t discouraged yet, he was sure that something would turn up. He had applied to a few churches in Connecticut and New Jersey, but nothing had panned out there yet either. He had feelers out all over the place.

He was working on his thesis one afternoon when his brother Tom called and invited him to lunch the next day. Bill rarely enjoyed contact with his family, but he didn’t want to alienate them any further, and he tried to see them whenever he could. Tom was usually more reasonable than Peter or his father, although he didn’t pretend to understand the choices his younger brother had made—neither his choice of wife, nor his decision to become a minister. It seemed like a terrible waste of a bright legal mind and an excellent legal education and the social connections he had. And they needed him at the firm. Bill’s radical break with family tradition was incomprehensible to Tom.

In an effort to keep the channels of communication open, Tom and Bill met for lunch at “21” the next day. It was familiar turf for both of them, and a restaurant they both liked and had enjoyed going to since they were boys.

“So what are you up to these days?” Tom asked, sounding cordial, after they both ordered a glass of wine. The two brothers were ten years apart. Tom had just turned forty-four, and it always shocked Bill now to realize that his brother was middle-aged, and even Peter would be turning forty in a few months. And each of his brothers
had two children, while he and Jenny had none. Their lives and focus seemed very different. And even more shocking to Bill, Tom’s younger son was in high school, and his older boy had just started college. Bill told Jenny that it made him feel old, even though he was only thirty-four. At least his brother Peter’s children were considerably younger.

“I’m working on my thesis,” Bill said in answer to his brother’s question. “It’s taking me forever.”

“Have you found a job yet?” Tom asked him casually, and Bill shook his head.

“There are waiting lists a mile long for churches in the city, and the suburbs aren’t much better. And we can’t get too far out of town. I can’t do that to Jenny. She has too much work.” Tom nodded, well aware that she was some kind of hotshot in the field of fashion, although he had no exact idea of what her job was. He knew she ran her own business, but it always sounded frivolous to him. It was not a business that interested him.

“Do you two ever think about having kids, or is that not in the picture?” Tom asked Bill for the first time. He had no idea that they had been trying to get pregnant for the last two years, but Bill didn’t tell him that. Jenny was discouraged about it, but her job was stressful, and she was running around all the time. Bill was sure it would happen at the right time. Maybe when they had a vacation, which they hadn’t had for a year.

“We talk about it,” Bill said quietly, not anxious to share his worries with his brother. Anything he ever confided to them, they used against him later. And that was too sensitive an issue for him to
want to discuss with anyone but Jenny. He would have felt as if he were betraying her, if he shared their concerns with Tom. “There’s no hurry,” he said vaguely.

“You two aren’t getting any younger,” Tom said bluntly. “But I guess her career means more to her than a baby,” he added unkindly. His family didn’t even know her, but they never cut her any slack. They were all too willing to believe that she was a bad person because she had been born on what they considered the wrong side of the tracks.

“I’m sure she’ll be a wonderful mother,” Bill said fairly. “And I need to find a church before we start having kids. First things first.” He looked calm about it.

Tom hesitated only for a moment before he dove in. “What about coming back to the firm? You have a ready-made job just sitting there, waiting for you. You don’t have to knock yourself out finding a church. You can do volunteer work on weekends.” They still considered his dedication to the ministry an eccentric hobby, not a vocation. Bill had long since given up trying to convince them how much it meant to him. “Dad’s not getting any younger. He’s going to retire one of these days, and I think it would be a great comfort to him if he knew you were back in the fold. I know how much the pro bono work meant to you. Maybe we could make some arrangement. You could be a full partner, and take a lesser share of the profits, if you don’t want to take on paying clients.” It had been an issue for them before.

“It’s not about money,” Bill explained to him quietly. “I feel strongly that we each have our destiny to follow. This is mine. It took me a long time to figure it out. I know I’m on the right path,
with the right woman. My marrying Jenny wasn’t an accident. It was meant to be. Just like your being married to Julie.” Tom didn’t comment, he just nodded, but Bill noticed a troubled look in his brother’s eyes.

“How can you be so sure?” Tom asked him, suddenly serious. Bill seemed so certain about what he was doing, and Tom was never quite sure if he had a crazy streak or was saner than all of them. He seemed totally at peace.

“It’ll sound stupid to you, I’m sure, but I pray a lot. I try to listen. And I always know in my gut if what I’m doing is right. Or very wrong. I was miserable when I was working at the law firm. I knew it wasn’t right for me. I hated going to work every day, I felt like I was crawling out of my skin. And as soon as I started seminary, I knew I was on the right path. I knew it with my first theology class. It was like a magnet. Everything clicked. It was like that when I met Jenny. From the minute I met her, I was sure. I knew we were
meant
to be together.” He said it with such certainty that Tom stared at him for a long moment, trying to understand. “Didn’t you feel that way about Julie? You two were so in love,” Bill asked his older brother earnestly.

“I’m not sure I ever felt that we were ‘meant’ to be together,” Tom said honestly. “She was just the prettiest deb of the season, and that I’d been out with until then, and we had a lot of fun. We were both young. Twenty years later, it’s all different. You need more than just a pretty deb. And people change when they grow up. Neither of us knew who we were then.” Tom had married young, five years younger than Bill had been when he married Jenny, and not as wise.

Bill wasn’t sure what his brother meant by what he’d said and he
didn’t want to pry. Tom didn’t look happy. Both he and Peter had been married for a long time, to women Bill wouldn’t have wanted to be married to, but it had seemed to work for them. Julie and Georgina were like everyone else they’d known growing up, but their marriages had lasted, Bill had always thought they were content, and they had decent kids. Jenny was very different, she was deeper, stronger, her own person, and he loved the life they shared. And everything between them was honest.

“Whatever works,” Bill said reasonably. “Jenny and I are happy. I hope you are too. No one in the family ever gave Jenny a break, and God knows she deserved one. She’s a terrific person. But we’ve done fine anyway.”

Tom didn’t comment. Occasionally he felt guilty about it, but not enough so to make an effort to get to know Jenny. And Peter made no effort at all. He was still outraged by Bill’s choice of wife, and so were their parents. It was as though they considered it a personal affront to them. Tom was more reasonable about it, and simply ignored Jenny when he saw her, and only addressed Bill. But at least he wasn’t overtly rude to her, like Peter and their parents.

“Do I have any chance of talking you into coming back to the law firm?” he asked, giving it one last shot, and realizing once again that the chance was slim to none. His younger brother shook his head.

“It may take a while, but I want to find a church. I got an offer from one in Kentucky, but I refused it. Something will turn up. Jenny keeps telling me to be patient.”

“Let us know if you change your mind,” Tom said, as he picked up the check. He had invited Bill. But he knew Bill wasn’t going to alter
his course now. He was eager to find a church so he could enter the active ministry, not practice law.

“I’m as likely to go back to being a lawyer as you are to enter the church,” Bill said, laughing, as they walked out of the restaurant. “Thanks for lunch.” He smiled at his brother and hailed a cab. Tom walked back to the office, thinking about what Bill had said. He seemed so sure about everything. Tom envied him that. And Peter asked him about how Bill was when he got back to the office.

“He’s fine. He seems happy in his life, and sure of what he’s doing. Maybe happier than we are. Who knows? Maybe he really does have a vocation. I can tell you one thing—he’s never coming back to the firm.”

“He’s always been a little nuts,” Peter said, sounding dismissive and very smug.

“I don’t think he is,” Tom said honestly, more respectful of Bill than Peter ever had been. “He’s doing what he wants to do, and believes in, and he’s married to a woman he’s crazy about. What’s so nuts about that?”

“You can’t just walk away from history and tradition, give up a career with the most respected law firm in New York, and marry some girl from nowhere. What’s that all about? Teenage rebellion? He needs to grow up,” Peter said with a sour look.

“I think he has grown up. He doesn’t want the same things we do. He never did. He never went out with the kind of women we did, and I think he hated every minute he worked for the firm. He wants to go out and help people. Maybe that’s not so wrong.” Tom was trying to be fair.

But Peter was having none of it. He thought Bill’s marching to a different drummer was juvenile, and their father thought so too. Their mother was more upset about Jenny than the law firm. Not one of them approved of him, or the choices he had made.

“That’s fine if you want to join the Peace Corps at twenty. He’s thirty-four years old, and he wants to be a Boy Scout.” Tom was shocked at what Peter said. After what he’d heard at lunch, it sounded disrespectful. Bill was joining the church, after all, not the Boy Scouts.

“I’m not sure most ministers consider themselves Boy Scouts. There’s room for both camps in the world,” Tom reminded him. “What we do, and what he does. Bill wants to repair the broken of spirit. We just handle their taxes.” Bill’s choice seemed nobler to him.

“Try telling Dad that. It nearly broke his heart when Bill left the firm. And Mom’s, when he married Jenny. How much sense does that make? I never questioned following in Dad’s footsteps, and neither did you. What makes Bill so special?”

“Maybe we should have. Maybe he’s got more guts than either of us,” Tom said, looking thoughtful. The peaceful look in Bill’s eyes at lunch had impressed him, and he was envious of it.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Peter said, shaking his head. “Not you too. We have a great life, partnership in the best law firm in New York, permanent job security until the end of our days. What more do you want?” It was a big question, and Tom didn’t answer him, but he was still thinking about it when he went back to his own office. Peter was the most similar to their father, dictatorial, authoritarian, traditional, and he expected his sons to be the same and follow in
his footsteps. Peter had done it without wavering for a moment. And Tom as well, until now, but somehow he wondered if there wasn’t more to life than living by tradition. And Bill had balked and refused to do any of it, and as far as Tom could see, Bill was happier than either of them, and more at peace. He admired him for that. Tom was beginning to ask himself questions, and lately he had none of the answers. His life was the sum of its parts, and some of it seemed sadly lacking. Bill seemed to have it all. A vocation he was certain of, and Jenny, who made him happy, and seemed like a nice girl—more than that, she was a good person, and so was Bill.

When Bill got back from lunch, he went through the mail and found several answers from churches he had sent letters to. Three had turned him down, and another one said they had put him on a waiting list. And he read the last letter several times. He had gotten it as a result of the letters sent out by the placement service for ministers. It wasn’t a church he had solicited or even one he could consider. He read the letter one last time, folded it, and put it back in the envelope. And then he slipped it into a drawer in his desk and sat down to work on his thesis.