Word Weld

The next day was very, very interesting for us. I got off the couch and got ready around seven. Church was 9:30. Usually it was no huge issue. It was today. I went about my business, fixing an egg breakfast for myself and Kyle, plus one. As I did, I kept repeating to myself,

“Marion, Marion, Marion…”

I did this all through making breakfast, until I turned to put the food on the table, and there she was, looking beautiful in that blue and white dress of my sister’s, and wearing a silver heart locket.

“Marion, Marion… Candice!” I said as I saw her, and smote myself mentally.

“Good morning,” she said, and there was little happiness in her face. She looked very different with her green contact lenses and dyed hair.

“You don’t seem very chipper this morning,” I ventured.

“Why should I be?” I could tell she was grumpy. I’d only been “married” to her one night and I could tell that much. “Here we are…”

“Yes, here we are,” I broke in, pulling out a chair for her. “And we’re about to have a lovely breakfast. We’ll get you some salt to go with your scrambled eggs. Now, would you like some toast?”

She glowered, but sat down.

“Yes, please.”

“Milk? Juice? Coffee?” I offered.

“Juice.”

“I’ll have coffee,” Kyle marched into the kitchen, ready for church, and plopped himself down across from Candice.

“Coffee?” Candice repeated. “What kind of eleven-year-old likes coffee?”

“I’m actually three hundred,” he admitted bashfully.

“Three hundred?” a smile formed involuntarily on her lips.

“It’s true,” I said, putting the toast in the toaster. “Coffee is an acquired taste, after all.”

“Very funny, Shay.”

When the toast and drinks were ready I came and sat down with them. Candice looked at me for a minute, then said, “You look nice in a suit.”

“You look lovely in a dress,” I replied quickly, strangely feeling more cheerful than usual. However, while I was flattered by her remark, my remark made her blush. Also, oddly enough, I didn’t really care at that point. I went on, “I think you look beautiful this morning, Candice. Maybe just the fact that we’re pretending to be married makes me bold enough to say it, but it’s true.”

“I hope you don’t expect me to kiss you,” she looked worried.

“Oh, no, we can be one of those impassive couples you see every so often,” I smiled, but something in me was just a tiny bit disappointed. I struck away the feeling. “Don’t worry so much. You just have to act yourself and I’ll act myself, so there won’t be any stress.”

“But won’t people at your church expect us to, you know, act married?”

“We won’t have to hang on each other and be kissing every time we aren’t talking. Mostly just call each other affectionate names and look at each other like we love each other, I’d say.”

“That’s going to be the hard part. It’s not easy for a girl to act smitten, you know.”

“Just imagine I’m the guy you’ve always wanted to marry,” I chuckled.

“I don’t have quite enough imagination for that,” Candice squinted.

“Ouch,” Kyle murmured, sipping his coffee.

“Work with me a little bit at least,” I ordered.

“I will,” she sighed. “I just don’t know how to do this.”

“Me neither.”

“Just act like in the movies,” Kyle said. “Say ‘Honey’ and ‘Dear’ and praise each other to everyone you meet. That’s the best way to act in love.”

“I really don’t know how you think you get off knowing so much about love,” I stared at him. “How many times have you been in love, eh?”

“None, but it’s pretty simple to me.”

“If you think it’s simple,” Candice told him, “then that proves you don’t know anything about it.”

But Kyle just smiled and kept shoveling eggs.

We got ready to go and set out. It was a little chilly, but I had gotten Candice a warm coat, so she was comfortable. Kyle had the orange sweater his mother had given to him. I hated that sweater. We drove to Calvary Baptist Church, where we were in time for Sunday school. We would first see Kyle to his own classroom. Candice was clearly uncomfortable.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” she told me, her hand against her forehead. I got brave and reaching out, squeezed her left hand.

“You can do this,” I said softly. She stared into my eyes with an almost pleading look.

Getting out of the car, we walked the little distance to the church. It was a modest church: not huge, not tiny. At the door we were greeted by one of the deacons, Matthew Dolby, a man I knew quite well.

“Mr. Shay!” he grabbed my hand and hugged my neck. He was a shorter man but solid as a rock, much more substantial than myself, and had a black beard and hair. He was an ex-navy man and never knew a stranger. “And Kyle, how are ya, son?”

“Very well, sir,” Kyle smiled, amiably looking the man right in the eye.

“And who is this?” Matt squinted at Candice, but offered her a hand at the same time.

“Matt, this is my…” I shot her a glance, and my heart was thumping. “My wife, Marion.”

“Your… wife?” he started, and I cringed inside. Candice just smiled, but she was throwing up inside by the subtleties in her cheeks. “You’re married now, Shay? When did this happen? Why…?”

“It happened on a trip I took this past week, Matt,” I tried to lie convincingly, if I was going to lie. “I know what you must be thinking, but I met Marion during a bit of soul-searching and she had an old friend there who married us. I didn’t really want a big ceremony or anything.”

“Well,” he was clearly beside himself, but looked back to Candice and asked, “If I may ask, do you know the Lord as your Savior, Marion?”

Candice hesitated, then shot a glance at me and declared, “I know my savior.”

“That’s good!” he sighed, relieved. “Are you moved in already?”

“Oh, yes, we did everything in a rush and a whirlwind,” she smiled, I thought sweetly, but of course she shot me looks frequently.

“I have to say I’m surprised, Shay, but I know that if you did it, you prayed about it and did the right thing. I’m happy as can be for you! You’ll have a lot of ladies in the church very surprised and talking!”

He was underestimating when he made that statement. As we walked Kyle to his classroom all the ladies I knew and most of the ones I didn’t, old, young, or in-between, came up to ask about my lovely “wife.” I told my lie so many times I was sick of hearing it. Candice was little different, perhaps worse.

“I understand you wanting to elope, I really do,” Mrs. Hancock patted her hand knowingly. “Big weddings are such a fuss, you know!”

Mrs. Patterson was a little put-out that none of her matches for me had ended in marriage. That I could figure it out on my own was apparently appalling, and to me extremely satisfying, even if it was a fake. But the pastor’s wife, Mrs. Lake, saved us from more prodding and poking in her own magical way. Mrs. Lake was a special woman, one that you don’t find very often. Not only was she a passionate Christian, she was also not overbearing. What’s more is that once she comes on the scene, she has all power. Even then, as I introduced them to each other, Mrs. Lake’s magic was at work. The other ladies seemed to disappear, and Kyle winked at me as he waved goodbye. Mrs. Lake walked us to the adult Sunday school, and Candice began not to look so hard. All along our journey to this point she had become like a fortress, more shut-up with each step or shaken hand, until when we reached Mrs. Lake Candice was bristling with defensive weaponry, her whole being armored and tense, her eyes dark like arrow slits in the fortress wall, her lips shut tighter than a drawbridge and her teeth fastened together like a portcullis.

Mrs. Lake was only about thirty-five, thin and attractive but beautifully modest. She had brown hair and gentle, intelligent features. To this day I do not know an individual as perceptive as Mrs. Vivian Lake.

“What do you do, Marion?” she asked, her eyes friendly, irresistible, and searching. There was almost always a smile between her cheeks.

“I was a bank manager, but since I moved down I’ll have to find a new job,” Candice replied.

“That’s good work,” Vivian nodded, walking along with us. “Well, we are very happy to know you. I know my husband will be sorry he didn’t perform the wedding for you, but I know you had your reasons.”

“Yes, things have been a mess lately,” Candice was not putting on a front that time.

“In times when things are hard, it’s important to have strength,” Vivian stopped in front of our classroom and put a gentle hand on Candice’s arm. “God says He is strong for us when we are weak. I would simply love it if you would come to our women’s prayer breakfast. It’s on Tuesday morning, and we have a good breakfast and enjoy fellowship with one another, pray of course, and share what’s on our hearts. Would you mind coming?”

“Uh, well…” Candice stuttered, looking at me. “S-s-should I?”

What was she asking me for?

“If you want to,” I shrugged.

Vivian’s face did not seem suspicious or questioning, oddly enough, but that was part of her magic. As the class was about to start, Vivian just stared at Candice, smiling.

“Alright…” she said at last, looking like she had no idea what she had just said.

“Splendid, dear!” Mrs. Lake said at once, though not quickly. “We shall look for you. Maybe I’ll see you again after church.”

“That woman is frightening,” Candice said, smiling fake at people who looked at us as we sat down and waited for the assistant pastor to start. “It’s like she can look right through you!”

“I know,” I nodded. There was little doubt in my mind at that point that Vivian knew we were not married, or at least that it was not what it appeared. But she worked in her own way, and she was prudent, so I knew that she would not give us away. In fact, I didn’t even worry about it. Candice did.

Candice listened during Sunday school and afterward we went to morning church. She did not seem like she was getting much out of the experience. It occurred to me that she may never have been to church. She acted just a little awkward from time to time.

In the pews of the main sanctuary, we sat, trying to look like a family. Candice and I sat together and I put my arm on the back of the pew, behind her. Kyle went and talked with the other boys while I tried to sooth Candice a little by talking to her.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she was terse. Obviously not okay.

“I know it’s difficult. Maybe you’d rather help out with the kids next time?”

“Next time I’m going to kill myself,” she glared at me as much as she could with a smile on her face. “I don’t know how much of your religion I can handle before I lose my mind.”

“Well, you have to be a little crazy to get on in life,” I chuckled feebly.

“I can’t believe I told Mrs. Lake I would go to that stupid breakfast on Tuesday. Well, I’m not showing up, you can bet on that!”

I was a little angry with her about it, but said nothing. After all, no one twisted her arm. The least she could do was honor her word and go. After the singing, Pastor Lake got up and preached. It was a good sermon, straight out of the book of 1st John. Candice looked bothered, so I ignored her and tried to focus on the preaching. During the invitation, however, I heard something, and venturing a peek during the prayer, glimpsed Candice, eyes shut, straining against tears. I wondered if she were just overwhelmed, or if something the pastor said spoke to her.

Afterward, we drove home to get some lunch. She was silent all the way back, and even Kyle didn’t speak to her. When we got back, she made lunch, without a word, making us feel very uncomfortable, to the point that I was almost angry with her.

After lunch (and after simmering myself) I confronted her with as much love as I could bring myself to show. She was by the sink doing dishes.

“Candice−“ I began, but she interrupted.

“Marion,” she didn’t turn around. “It’s Marion, ‘honey’.”

“Look, I’m sorry about church and everything,” I scratched the back of my head.

“What do you have to be sorry about?” Candice went on. “You have it good, Shay. You have a woman trapped, yes, imprisoned in your home, who will do whatever you want, be whatever you want. Doesn’t that make you happy? I’ll be a part of your little religion, I’ll take care of your nephew, I’ll wash your dishes, do your laundry, make your bed, clean your house…. You should be happy!”

She turned around and looked fit to be tied. I, however, wonderful Christian that I am, was losing my temper with her. As she shouted the last word in my face, I clenched my fists, forcing myself to say nothing. I could feel myself seething. I had words, some less savory than others, ready to pour on her that would have likely made her stagger, but against all odds I kept my testimony. Instead I did the only thing I knew to do. Kyle was peeking around the corner, as I knew he would be, so I said,

“Come on, Kyle, let’s go for a walk. We’ll go down the street to the ice cream shop.”

He didn’t smile, but came up beside me. He kept looking back at Candice, but I didn’t.

“Shay!” came her voice from behind me as my hand reached the door handle. I didn’t stop, but unlocked it silently and started to turn the knob. But as I did, I felt Kyle’s hand on mine, and saw his eyes pleading with me to do the right thing. For a moment we strove against each other, his eyes like my conscience, telling me not to run away, while my own will was strong. Telling myself it was for his sake, I turned back and saw her, trying to wipe away tears and desperate not to sniff. She sobbed once, then violently repressed what should have followed.

“W-w-why don’t we… go out tonight?” she stammered, trying to smile. “Why don’t we go somewhere where we can talk…?”

I thought it was actually a really good idea, but my heart had not caught up with my mind.

“I don’t want to leave Kyle,” I said, using him as an excuse. “You said yourself he shouldn’t be left by himself.”

“I’m sorry!” she cried, now sobbing freely. “I’m sorry I’ve made you hate me! I’m sorry…”

With that she was gone, toward the bedroom, where I heard the door slam.

“Uncle…” Kyle started.

“I know, Kyle, I know,” I told him, calming myself. “Do you think you might be able to stay with your friend Miles tonight?”

“Sure, he’s right down the street,” the boy said readily.

“Good man.”

I waited a few minutes before I went and knocked on the door to my bedroom. I heard noise, but no answer, so I knocked again. Still nothing. I turned the handle, and to my surprise, it turned. Inside I found Candice, wearing her old clothes, standing in front of the bathroom mirror, destroying her makeup with frustrated efficiency.

“Candice, listen to me.”

She ignored me completely, so I came closer and touched her arm. She withdrew it immediately and declared,

“I’m leaving. I can’t−”

“I won’t stop you, Candice,” I interrupted, gripping her arm tightly but not too hard. “But I want you to know that I don’t hate you. These are hard times and it’s not a small thing for you.”

“It’s almost more than I can bear!” she gasped, tears flowing again. “I don’t want to hurt you, I told you… but I almost can’t help it! I just take it out on everyone around me! I know it must be hard for you, but I don’t have what you have, I can’t just brush things off!”

“I can’t either,” I tried to tell her. “I don’t brush things off of me, they just get brushed off.”

“I know,” she continued to weep. “It’s because of your faith. I don’t have your faith. I don’t have a God to look after me, like the preacher said. I don’t believe in God so He doesn’t believe in me. We’re lost to each other. So I have to get by on my own… and I can’t.”

It was hard for me because I was still angry, but I said what I knew I should,

“You don’t have to do it alone, Candice. God believes in you.”

“I heard it all, but I can’t do it,” she declared fiercely. “I just can’t! There’s no way your God is big enough for me.”

I sighed, “If only I could show you how big He really is.”

We stood for several minutes, until her crying abated. During that time I held her hands, and then she unexpectedly hugged me. I didn’t know what to do so I just held her, waiting quietly.

“Maybe…” she whispered at last, “maybe if your God can give you what you need so that you don’t hate me, maybe He’s bigger than I thought.”

“I couldn’t wish you anything but good, Candice,” I said. “We’ll go out to eat tonight. Kyle’s going over to a friend’s house. Come on and get ready.”

I walked over and retrieved my sister’s dress from the bed, then returned it to Candice.

“No,” she started to blink again, shaking her head violently. “I can’t wear it anymore. I don’t want you to care so much about me. I don’t want you to be kind to me, or do sweet things for me. I just want to go on being abused and hated.”

“But you’re not going to be,” I took her shoulders firmly but gently. “In this place at least, there is still compassion.”

“If you don’t stop, Shay… I’m going to fall in love with you!” she half-sobbed, half-laughed. “For real!”

I hesitated, then let my stupid tongue say, “I’m already in love with you, Candice.”

The instant I said it I wished I hadn’t. I barely knew her, she was not a Christian, and it all seemed too fast. It was like fate had driven us here, and tested me, and in spite of all my victories over anger that night I let go and failed the real test. I tried hard not to express feelings for her, for many of them were superficial, and I didn’t want to put anyone through superficial love.

“You don’t know me well enough to be in love with me,” she said, now a little calmer.

“Maybe not,” I tried to redeem myself. “I’m sorry I said that. I know I’ve been attracted to you since I first saw you, but that isn’t what love is, and I’m sorry for that. Love isn’t about the surface, it’s about the sacrifice.”

“Shay, can you hear yourself?” Candice smiled, sniffing. “You’re just telling me again.”

She was right. It wasn’t about the surface anymore. I had been through despising her, but in spite of it, I had given her everything and held nothing back. I felt as if God were hovering somewhere at the heart of this situation, like The Horse and his Boy, in the Chronicles of Narnia, where the Lion was switching sides on the fleeing riders, driving them together without their knowledge, until they were side-by-side.

“Please, wear this,” I offered her the dress again.

She looked at it, then at me, and said,

“All right.”