Wind Over Marshdale (33 page)

 

December was an extra busy time for most elementary school teachers. Children were naturally preoccupied with anticipation, and teachers had the added task of preparing them for a school wide Christmas concert. It was a good kind of busyness, though. It kept Rachel's mind occupied and she
really
needed that right now. Everywhere she turned people were singing, laughing, falling in love. Everyone but her.

Life wasn't all bad. At least one good thing had happened. Little Robbie Nordick had spoken several words to Tanner, Rhoda's son, once he had returned to school after his accident. Although a very small step, it was a breakthrough that had all the staff, as well as Robbie's parents, rejoicing.

“Teacher? You want to come to my Christmas concert?” Rachel looked up from the marking on her desk. She'd been trying to catch up on some paperwork while the kindergarten class had some free play time. Lisa McKinley was waiting expectantly for an answer.

“Of course I'll be at the Christmas concert,” Rachel replied, smiling at the little girl. “I'm looking forward to it. You didn't think I'd make the class get up and recite our poem without me there, did you? All the teachers will be there. It's on the last day of school before Christmas break.”

Lisa frowned as if trying to understand what her teacher was talking about. Suddenly her face cleared and she laughed. “Not that one. I mean my Sunday School concert. At church.”

“Oh. Your church concert.” Rachel nodded. “When is it?”

“Tonight. I'm s'posed to be there at six, ‘cause I'm a angel,” she informed proudly. “But it don't start till seven.”

“I'll see what I can do,” Rachel said.

“Whisper's in it, too. And lots of other kids from school,” Lisa informed. “And my Uncle Con will be there to watch,” she added with a smile, as if that would make all the difference. If the little girl only knew that was exactly why she didn't want to go.

Not only would Con be there, but so would Thomas, apparently. It was just too complicated. She hated to disappoint Lisa, but she wasn't sure she could do it. It was a dilemma she was still thinking about when the bell finally rang at the end of the day.

“Hi? You got a minute?” Rhoda asked, peeking around the door frame.

“Sure. Come on in,” Rachel invited, stashing a few stray toys on their shelves.

“Um, what's up with you and Con?” Rhoda asked without preamble. “Rumor has it there's been some trouble in paradise.”

“Wow. News travels fast,” Rachel quipped.

“This is Marshdale.”

“Which is apparently a valid excuse for almost anything,” Rachel snapped.

“Sorry.” Rhoda glanced down at her feet. “I guess I should mind my own business.”

Rachel sighed heavily. “No, it's okay. I shouldn't have snapped at you. Sorry.”

“It's too bad. I really thought you two were good together,” Rhoda offered.

“I guess you were wrong.” Rachel focused her attention on the already tidy toy shelf, repositioning a plastic fire truck.

“Con's a good man and a good friend—to both Jerry and myself. It hurts to see him so down.”

“His strong religious convictions got in the way,” Rachel explained, flipping her hair back. She hoped she sounded blasé, like it didn't really matter one way or the other. The charade was helping her get through the days until Christmas, and the last thing she needed right now was to break down in front of someone.

“Rachel,” Rhoda said, hesitating for a few seconds before continuing. “There's something I think I need to share with you.”

“Yeah? What is it?” Rachel braced herself. Nothing could be any worse than what she'd already been through.

“Well, these religious convictions you speak of. The ones that Con holds so strongly? I… I mean we—both Jerry and I—well, we've kind of made some changes in that department too.”

Rachel couldn't speak.

“Now, don't look so shocked, Rachel! This is a good thing. A happy thing for us,” Rhoda pleaded. “You look as if we've done something terrible instead of something good.”

“I'm… I'm just surprised, that's all,” Rachel fumbled.

“You think you're surprised? We've known Con and his family a long time. Like I said, Con has been a good friend over the years, but when it came to religion we just agreed to disagree. But then that accident happened with Tanner. It really scared us and got us to thinking about how fragile our lives are. We were living on a pretty shaky foundation. And what kind of beliefs had we been teaching our boys? We opened up to Con about it one night, and, well, what he had to say made sense.”

“He should get paid commission for bringing new people into his church,” Rachel scoffed.

“Oh, we're not going to Con's church,” Rhoda corrected. “He said it's not about the building or the name above the door. Jerry grew up in the Anglican Church so we decided to go there. Con said it's about what's inside. What you believe. It's been really good for us. For our family. And the Reverend is really helping us to put life into perspective.”

“I'm happy for you,” Rachel said. The platitude sounded stiff, even to her own ears.

“I hope this isn't going to ruin our friendship,” Rhoda said. “I mean, I'm still the same person. Just more free.”

Free. It was what Rachel had wanted all her life. Freedom from ridicule. Freedom from comparisons. Freedom from pain. Becoming a Christian could provide all that? Somehow she doubted it. It sounded more like a prison sentence.

****

Pastor Todd Bryant sat alone in his office. The door was shut but he could still hear the muffled strains of the children's choir as they practiced their closing number one last time. His wife Carol had orchestrated the Christmas concert, as usual. She would be in the sanctuary now, making sure everything was in place.

He felt numb. How much longer could he keep up with this charade? Christmas was about family, brotherhood, and proclaiming the good news of Jesus' birth. He had betrayed his family, felt anything but brotherly love for those people out there who called themselves Christians, and as for spreading the gospel—the message he'd prepared for the end of the concert mocked him with its hypocrisy.

If he could just get through this Christmas season; get through the guilt and shame that plagued him by day and kept him awake nights. Once the New Year came he'd be able to shake this thing. He had to.

****

Rachel's sense of duty won out. She trudged in the direction of the church, a light sprinkling of snow falling silently in the darkness. When she entered the warmth of the building, she was greeted at the door by Pastor Todd.

“Rachel. Good to see you again. Just find yourself a seat. It's filling up fast. My wife's in the back with the angels, trying to keep their wings in place, no doubt.” He turned as another couple entered the church. “John! Margaret! Wonderful to see you! Find yourself a seat…”

Rachel felt a stab of loneliness. She slipped into a seat near the back and spent a few moments fussing with her jacket and scarf before settling back to survey the crowd. It only took a minute to spot them, sitting near the front: Ivor, Betty, Tyson, Bonita, and Con. Her heart did a flip-flop and she was afraid her eyes would well up with tears. She swung her head away and locked eyes with another member of the audience also sitting near the back on the opposite side of the sanctuary. Thomas Lone Wolf. A second wave of emotion coursed through her body. Regret, guilt, despair…

In a last attempt at some dignity, she sat up straight and focused her gaze ahead. This just might be the longest night of her life. With forced concentration, Rachel willed herself to watch every skit and listen to every carol. Once it got started, the program was about an hour in length. Pastor Todd ended with prayer and an invitation to accept that same baby Jesus who appeared so long ago in the manger, as Lord and Savior.

Rachel couldn't wait to get out of the building. Claustrophobia was beginning to suffocate her. As she waited for the line-up of well-wishers at the door, her eye caught that of Con. The intensity was searing, and she looked away, pushing her way more forcefully than was perhaps appropriate, until she reached the open air.

She gulped in huge breaths and started trudging through the snow. She reached her doorstep in record time and entered, shutting the door behind her with a click and leaning for several minutes against it, eyes shut tight and breath heavy. With a weary sigh she pushed away from its stability and almost stumbled over a box on the floor. That was strange. Had it been there all the time?

Stooping to pick up the box, she heard a muffled meowing noise which came from its depths. She opened the cardboard flaps to see a kitten. A small cry of delight escaped her lips and she gently lifted the feline from its prison and stroked its soft fur. Its sharp baby teeth and claws made her jump and then laugh as it struggled to get free. “I'm going to have to teach you a few manners, I see,” Rachel cooed.

“Hello?” Mrs. Beatry called from the upper landing.

Rachel opened the door to see the elderly woman trundling down the steps. She'd obviously already seen the kitten, since it had been placed inside her apartment, so there was no use hiding it. Rachel wasn't sure what Mrs. Beatry's rules were about pets, though, so waited until her landlady was at eye level. “Looks like an early Christmas present,” she said, bouncing the kitten like a baby.

“He was going to leave it outside on the step, but I insisted he put it in here,” Mrs. Beatry explained. “Of course, he asked my permission first about pets, and I said that I have two precious cats myself, which of course, he already knew. Oh isn't he just so precious!” she said as she scratched the still struggling kitten under the chin. “Let him down, my dear! He won't be able to go far.”

Rachel set him on the floor and the cat promptly jumped up the two steps to Mrs. Beatry. She stooped to pick him up, with no ensuing struggle whatsoever. He seemed perfectly content to purr in her arms.

“Who do you mean?” Rachel asked, Mrs. Beatry's earlier words just now sinking in.

The older woman ceased her ministrations and looked at Rachel as if she were daft. “Why Con McKinley, of course. Who else?”

Rachel blinked, feeling a fresh wave of emotion about to overtake her. Of course Con had given her the kitten. He'd promised her one way back when her life was still intact. He'd asked her which one was her favorite, and here it was, only much larger than she remembered. “I'm not sure if I should keep him,” Rachel said. “I'm going away next week for the holidays.”

“Nonsense! I'll look after him. Won't I, sweetums,” she directed at the kitten.

It seemed it was settled. Several more minutes dragged by as Mrs. Beatry detailed the benefits of a cat, the proper brand and amount of food to feed it, and other bits of cat trivia which Rachel couldn't even remember. She was finally able to retrieve the kitten and retreat back into the solitude of her apartment. Once inside, she let her guard down and began to weep, burying her face in the kitten's soft fur.

****

Todd let the smile he'd worn for most of the evening collapse. One more ordeal to check off his list. Not that he hated Christmas concerts per se. The children were sufficiently cute in their costumes, with enough unintentional comic relief to make it adorable. His closing message followed the standard mix of peace and goodwill with an invitation to accept Christ's gift of salvation. What a hypocrite. He should be throwing himself down at the altar, begging the Almighty for forgiveness. As it was, admitting his addiction to God would undoubtedly require confession to others as well. He wasn't ready for that quite yet.

The other night, when Con McKinley had come to his office, had been a very close call. In a way he almost wished Con had walked right in on him and caught him in the act. Then it would all be out in the open and he could quit pretending. As it was, his nerves wouldn't hold out much longer. Maybe after Christmas he'd seek help. Resign his post. Kill himself.

That last thought jolted Todd beyond his usual state of self-pity. What was he thinking? He had a wife and two young children. He would never put them through that kind of trauma; no matter how much his own misery begged him to.

He looked at the family picture sitting on top of his desk and his heart squeezed tightly. They looked so happy, so carefree. He loved his children with the unknowable love of a father, and he loved Carol, too. Maybe even more deeply. That was why it hurt so much.

What could he really offer his family? They deserved better. The best gift he could probably offer was to release them. Set them free from the millstone he had become. But this was Christmas. Such things would have to wait for a more opportune time.

 

Rachel took her seat by the window. Sherri was on her left and Dan had already fastened himself into his aisle seat on the other side of his wife.

“I can hardly wait!” Sherri exclaimed. “It seems like ages since I've been home. I hope I don't get airsick. I don't usually, but then I've never flown pregnant before. Wait until they see how fat I am!”

Sherri continued to chatter away as Dan nodded occasionally from the pages of his magazine. Finally the 737 was ready to take off from Regina's International Airport on its nonstop flight to Toronto.

Rachel did not share her friend's enthusiasm. For her, visiting family for the Christmas holidays was a duty to be endured rather than a joyous reunion of loved ones.

Rachel was the outcast. The ugly duckling who just didn't measure up. “Why can't you get better marks like Michelle?” or “Why are you so serious all the time? Loosen up a bit, like Tiffany.” One sister was smart and ambitious; the other was flamboyant and outgoing. But Rachel? Adjectives like reliable and average came to mind. And boring. Rachel sighed heavily.

“Hey, girlfriend. You look positively glum,” Sherri noted, patting her friend's knee. “It's Christmas, remember? Season of good cheer and all that.”

“Easy for you to say. You forget where I'm headed,” Rachel replied.

“Oh come on, now. They're not all that bad,” Sherri scolded. “And like I told you earlier, you can hang out with me and Dan lots. My mother loves you. She won't mind.”

“Thanks. But I can't help feeling… apprehensive.”

“If anyone should be feeling apprehensive it's them. You just get your chin up and show them what you're really made of. You're strong. You're making a new life for yourself.”

“Some job I'm doing of it, too,” Rachel muttered.

“Nonsense! There are more fish in the sea. Or should I say more gophers on the prairie?” Sherri teased.

Rachel laughed in spite of herself. “True. I'm just not sure I want any other gophers at the moment.”

“Hmm. He was an awfully nice gopher, wasn't he?” Sherri mused. “Actually, he called Dan the other day.”

“Really? What for?” Rachel asked, raising her eyebrows in surprise.

“Oh, nothing about you. At least not directly, although I have my suspicions. He had a question about weather patterns.”

“Weather patterns?”

“I guess he remembered that Dan was a meteorologist, and he wanted to check out something to do with last year's weather patterns and correlate it to crop selections or something. I didn't really catch it all.”

“Couldn't he have done that on the internet?” Rachel asked.

“I never thought of that. So he must have been phoning for other reasons! Dan, what else did Con have to say when he called you?” Sherri shook her husband.

Dan looked up from his magazine. “What was that, honey?”

“What else did Con have to say when he called you the other day?” Sherri reiterated, her voice impatient.

“He was checking some weather patterns.”

“No! Not that. What else did he have to
say
?”

“Oh. Just that he hoped everything was okay and that we had a nice holiday. Oh yeah. And he said we should still come out to his place for New Year's Eve, if we wanted to.” Dan promptly went back to his reading.

“Did you hear that? He wants us to come out for New Year's Eve!” Sherri repeated excitedly.

“So?”

“Don't you get it? If he still considers us friends, then he must be planning to renew his relationship with you when you get back,” Sherri explained. “It's perfectly logical.”

“I doubt that.”

“What makes you say so?”

“You don't know Con. His convictions are pretty strong. He's not one to go back on his word that easily,” Rachel said. She realized it was one of the things she loved about him.