“An unspoken prayer request?” Natalie couldn’t help it. Annoyance shot through her tone loud and clear. “That’s what you said to them, Susan? Give me a break!”
Susan turned around and wiped off the kitchen counter with a dishcloth.
“I’m sorry, Suze.” She folded her arms and leaned sideways against the refrigerator. “I just don’t get it. I mean, we’re talking Mildred Murray.”
“You know saying that much—an unspoken request—was a major concession for me, even to Mildred and the others. It was probably too much. This is such a personal matter. You’re family, but Drake and I can’t possibly open up to everyone else. They’d lose all respect—”
“That’s absolute gibberish! He’s the pastor, not God. He’s human.”
“He’s the leader. He has to be strong.”
“But he doesn’t have to be perfect!” How many times had they had that conversation? Rex thought Natalie an optimistic nutcase, talking as if Drake would ever agree with her opinion. He was unbendable when it came to his view of pastor.
Susan’s profile sagged. “I appreciate you trying to help, but sometimes we just need your support, a hundred percent of it, without sibling rivalry entering into the picture.”
Natalie twisted her lips together so tightly her jaw popped. Rex was younger than Drake by five years. Susan chalked up their differences to typical issues of family rank. Drake saw himself as carrying an extra load of responsibility while their parents spoiled Rex rotten. How could Rex possibly understand Drake’s role?
It was another tired topic, best to avoid it.
“Natalie, I really wish you hadn’t told them where I was.” Susan rinsed the dishcloth and wrung it out.
Natalie let the sibling rivalry comment go. It had nothing to do with the issue at hand. “Susan.” She grasped her elbow and steered her around. “I love you. The Marthas love you. You’re hurting. We want to express our love by being here for you in whatever way might help ease your pain.”
“They were all here for me.” She turned back to the sink, folded the cloth, and laid it over the faucet. “It doesn’t matter that you had to coach soccer practice and couldn’t come until they’d left.” She faced her again. “You’re here now and you listened to what I said about my meeting with Mrs. Carlucci without comment. You ate dinner with me. And just think. The food was all Martha-type gifts of love. We had Mildred’s chicken soup, Emmylou’s veggie pizza, Leona’s brownies.” She glanced at the coffeemaker steaming away. “There’s Tess’ hazelnut coffee for you to drink while I enjoy the new herbal tea Gwyn left—”
“Coffee.” That was it. “Why don’t you drink it anymore?”
“Why don’t I—? What? You know why. It affects me adversely. I haven’t indulged for years.”
“It affects Drake adversely.”
Susan went to the stove to flip off the burner under the teapot, but she didn’t move to pick it up. “I’m really tired.”
“I know.” Natalie poured herself a mug of coffee. Why couldn’t Susan accept their love? Why couldn’t she be real with the others about Kenzie? It all kept coming back to Drake. Why? Determined to explore things further, she had to buy time. Rex swore her middle name was bulldog. Speaking of dogs…
“Suze, let’s go walk Pugsy. Then I promise I’ll leave. Just let me love on you a little longer?”
Her sister-in-law was clearly exhausted, but a corner of her mouth went up. “I don’t know if I can handle any more being loved on.”
Natalie chuckled. “I’ll work on my delivery. Maybe a little more tenacity and less belligerence will help?”
“I’ll get the leash.”
With Pugsy in the lead, Natalie and Susan strolled through the dark. Yellowy lamplight lit the boardwalk at regular intervals. An overcast sky hid stars from view and kept the temperature mild.
They walked in a comfortable silence. Natalie thought how they’d been friends since the Thanksgiving Day fifteen years ago when Rex took her home to meet his family. She and Susan had connected instantly, an odd thing considering their disparate personalities. Susan was older, totally feminine, already a mother and married for eight years. To Natalie, she defined “pastor’s wife” in her compassionate ways. On the other hand, Natalie was a high school phys ed teacher and a girls soccer coach and wore shorts all the time.
They always got along. But slowly and subtly, a wall went up between them. Susan laughed less and less and started wearing her beautiful naturally blond hair in a tight little bun.
Natalie believed the change coincided with Drake’s ascension in popularity. Not that he didn’t deserve all the kudos and attention. His was a fresh voice in the church. Even now, people still loved him. He still offered God’s truth from the pulpit. Inside of him, though, something changed. Unable to explain why, Natalie and Rex felt their connection with him severed.
His connections with his wife and daughter had been affected as well, twisted and turned upside down. And now the collateral damage was coming to the surface.
Natalie said, “Want my opinion?”
Susan tugged smartly on Pugsy’s leash and he barked. “You always ask that. Like I’d bother to say no.”
“You can say no.”
“Would you not give your opinion if I did?”
“Doubtful.” She paused. “I think this dilemma is not so much about Kenzie. It’s about you and Drake.”
Susan shivered visibly.
“Today,” Natalie said, “when you didn’t run plans by Drake and just followed your heart, you met with Aidan’s mother and you learned about Kenzie. The operative phrase is you didn’t run plans by Drake.”
“I should have, though.” Unmistakable guilt filled her voice.
“Not necessarily.” She halted and faced her.
Susan stopped as well. “It’s called submission. He is the head. We agreed not to interfere with Kenzie facing consequences. I went against that.”
“Where you went was after your daughter, to learn about her welfare like you would any other homeless unwed mother-to-be who walked through the church doors. If that’s anti-submission, sign me up.”
“Drake says—”
“My question is, what would you do if Drake were not in the picture?”
“What do you mean?”
“What if he were dead?”
“Natalie! What a horrible thing to say!”
“Okay, imagine him out of the country for an extended period of time. He’s a missionary in some godforsaken Latin American country and a tribe of heathens kidnap him and lock him away in the jungle for months and months. There’s no contact. What would you do?”
“I can’t fathom such a concept. He’s not a missionary type and besides, we’ve been like one person for more than twenty-three years.”
Natalie said, “My guess is you would make amends with Kenzie. You would not condone her actions, but neither would you pretend she and her baby do not exist.”
Susan shook again as if chilled to the bone.
“Drake screens every jot and tittle of what you do.”
“That’s not true.”
Despite her sister-in-law’s unconcealed discomfort, Natalie refused to back down. “He doesn’t even have to be in the same room. You listen to him in your head all the time. Oh, Suze. Imagine listening to your own voice instead! Or imagine God’s voice. He’s sitting there and He’s laughing and saying things like ‘You go, girl. You don’t need anyone else’s permission to do what you think is right. You’ve got Mine.’”
“The gospel according to Natalie.”
“I think it’s biblical. God alone is the audience we play to.”
Susan’s teeth chattered.
Natalie embraced her and squeezed tightly. She’d said enough. “I talk too much, but just imagine, Suze. Just imagine God right here and now speaking. You go, girl…”