The Sky Beneath My Feet - By Lisa Samson Page 0,10
run with this,” the senior pastor had said.
“Absolutely,” Rick replied, not realizing until much later what he’d signed on to do. By then, his new business cards proclaimed him the church’s first-ever Men’s Pastor. He only started using them once all the old Associate Pastor cards had been handed out, hoping for a reprieve. Since then, he’s made the best of it.
To Kathie, who’s wincing again, I say, “Rick’s worked harder at being a Men’s Pastor than he’s ever worked at anything before.”
Jed gets up from the table. “That’s the only thing he works at.”
After he’s gone, I give Kathie a wan smile. “Sorry about that. At least you know we’re not putting on airs.”
“I feel like I’m still part of the family.” She rises and helps me clear the dishes. “I guess the job has been hard on the boys? I can relate to that, you know. At the firm here, Jim set a pretty easy pace, but the new one has pretty much run him ragged. As long as we’re not wearing our church masks, I might as well admit, there were times I was just about out the door.”
“Not you and Jim,” I say.
“Oh yes. That’s all over now. He apologized.” She smiles and pulls at the strand of pearls around her neck. “In fact, I’m wearing the apology right now.”
“Good for you.”
I leave the dishes in the drying rack and top off our glasses. Kathie leans against the counter, her back to the sink, and I prop myself against the island. Over her shoulder I can see Jim peering through the shed window. It looks like he’s doing a lot of talking.
An evil thought flashes into my mind, remembering Kathie walking away from Rick in midsentence and that strange expression on his face. There are five other pastors on staff at the church, and their wives all claim to envy me. When your husband’s the Men’s Pastor, they say, you don’t have to worry about women throwing themselves at him. “And a good-looking man like him too,” the older ones add, like they’ve been tempted by the idea themselves.
Did something happen while Rick was giving his tour?
“What about you, Beth? Are things all right?”
“Things are fine,” I say. Too quickly.
She pauses. “Really?”
I’m thinking crazy thoughts now. Of course nothing happened. This isn’t me. I’m not the jealous type. Besides, Rick has never given me any reason. He’s not interested in other women. Fidelity seems second nature to him. He’s not a wolf, no matter what the official line might be about Mars and Venus, and the sinful nature of man.
No, we have other issues. Deeper ones.
“Okay, you caught me,” I say, trying to keep my tone light. “Things are . . . I don’t know. Tricky. But I have hope. I’m not sure how it happened, but the latest idea to take hold at the church is this sabbatical thing. The pastors need a break to recharge. Rick’s getting the whole month of October off. He doesn’t know it yet, but we’re going to Florida. You remember Stacy? She’s got a beach house down there and today she handed me the keys. Can you believe it?”
She sees through me. She knows I’m hiding something. But she’s too gracious to push. “That’s great. So, a romantic getaway, huh? Or are the boys going too?”
“I haven’t thought that far ahead. They can’t be out of school for a whole month, so . . . yeah, I think we need some time on our own, just the two of us. Maybe that’s the answer.”
“It is the answer,” Kathie says. She reaches for my hand, squeezing it tight. “Now, listen. I know you love this house and this neighborhood. I know Jed’s almost out of high school and I’m sure Eli’s happy where he is. But I want you to promise me you’ll keep an open mind.”
“An open mind about what?”
“Jim’s explaining everything to Rick now. I’ll let him tell you what’s going on. It’s something good, though. Something wonderful. It could be like old times. So don’t dismiss it out of hand, all right? Promise me you’ll think about it, pray about it.”
“Pray about what?”
“Jim made me swear I wouldn’t—” She stops abruptly, doubling over. Her hand reaches back, trying to set her glass on the counter. I have to take it from her or she’d shatter it.
“Kathie, what’s wrong?”
She straightens herself, pressing her fingertips against her jaw just in front of her ears. She opens her mouth wide,