22

He walked to the library to deliver the news to Barbara in person. She was in the fiction section, in the T’s, organizing the Mark Twain books, and was less than enthusiastic when he told her the news.

“You mean I’ll have to quit my job? I just got it,” she said. “And Addison is in his senior year of high school. We can’t ask him to move right now.”

“I thought we’d discussed this,” Sam said. “He was going to stay here with my parents.”

“Then he graduates and joins the army and we don’t see him for the next four years, plus we miss most of his last year of school. I’m not going to do that, Sam.”

“Maybe I could move up there and start the job and you could move after Addison leaves. I could always come home on Sundays and Mondays.”

“You would want to be away from us?”

“I don’t want to, no. But I’ve been without a job for over a month now, and meetings aren’t exactly lining up to hire me,” Sam said. “I can’t afford to be picky.”

Barbara had dispensed with tidiness and in frustration was cramming Mark Twain books on the shelf every which way.

“What do you know about this meeting?” she said. “Hope Friends? I’ve never even heard of it. What do they pay? How many people attend? Can we even afford to move?”

“I don’t know what they pay. I don’t know their theology. I haven’t even met them yet. I know the superintendent doesn’t like them. That’s probably a good sign. Come with me tomorrow night and we’ll find out these things together.”

He decided not to tell her that Hope Friends had only twelve members. Better she find that out gradually, preferably from someone else.

“Sam, I don’t want to move. Our friends are here. Our family is here. Your parents aren’t getting younger. They’re going to need us more and more. And you want to move somewhere we don’t know a soul.”

“You didn’t honestly think we could stay, did you?” Sam snapped. “Look around, Barbara. No one wants me. You think I want to be a paperboy again? Or sweep hair? There’s nothing here for me. I can’t even face people. I feel like a failure. As for our friends, most of them are in the church, and I don’t see them standing up for me.”

“Maybe you should have stayed on and fought it out,” Barbara said, her voice rising. “Maybe if you hadn’t given up so quickly, maybe our friends would have spoken up. They probably thought you wanted to leave.”

The library had grown quiet. The patrons were listening, while pretending to read. This was better than any book, the former Quaker minister and his wife arguing in public. Two pacifists going at it like cats in heat.

“I can’t talk about this right now,” Barbara said. “I have to get back to work. Let’s discuss it tonight.”

“Fine,” Sam barked, and stalked off.

After Sam left, Barbara went to the restroom to cry. She wasn’t sure about her tears, whether they were sad or angry, and thought maybe a little of both. Sad and angry. Sad for their family and the strain they were under, angry at Sam for his odd mix of passivity and bullheadedness.

She washed the red from her face, then returned to the checkout desk.

“Are you okay?” her boss, Janet, asked.

“Sam wants us to pack up everything, and leave our son and family and friends behind so he can pastor a church in the city, and we’re almost broke, but other than that, everything’s fine.”

Janet smiled sympathetically.

“He hasn’t had any luck finding work, has he?” Janet asked.

“Not yet. But I’ve told him it will take time and to be patient.”

“I’m not taking sides, but look at it from his point of view. He’s been providing for you and the boys all these years, and now he’s unable to. He’s probably worried and depressed.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Barbara conceded. “But if he were just patient, I’m sure something would come along here.”

“I’m not so sure. There aren’t that many jobs in these small towns, unless he wants to drive over to Cartersburg and work at Wal-Mart.”

Barbara knew Janet was right, but she hated the thought of moving. Couldn’t bear leaving behind the stretch of dining room wall where the boys’ heights had been marked in pencil. Someone else would buy their house, move in, and paint over their lives. It made her almost gag to think about it.