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Jaira swirled the grey yarn around the ink-stained bamboo crochet hook.
"Encircle twice, pull, tuck, encircle, pull, tuck..."
Over the eight years of her marriage, she'd perfected the art of crocheting. Self-taught. Although if the truth be told, she couldn't read a pattern for the life of her.
After making a scarf for herself and her children, she found herself with leftovers - far be it from her to waste.
She smiled as it came to her. "A Bible case...a pouch, and a cover to protect the delicate pages."
How much more creative could one be? Who, but her, would painstakingly coax and caress the yarn to fashion a Bible case that could easily be bought online? Ah, yes, she was a cut above the rest - one girl among thousands who clung to the old ways of life. Frugal. Gifted. Rare. She held onto skills now discarded by the throngs of...what did they call themselves?
"Millennials."
Jaira wrinkled her nose at the very term in holier-than-thou condemnation.
Jaira could imagine it now, hesitating only for a second to tune into her Christian music radio station. Some day she would be in church once more and, outfitted with her highly creative, homespun Bible case, would make heads turn. Ladies would cluck their tongues in jealousy as her "far-above-rubies" self won the hearts of all the desirable bachelors. And why not? Who wouldn't want such a woman as their bride?
At her own thoughts, Jaira's face erupted into a dorky grin, her fingers nimbly working the yarn. Working several bits and pieces together, her creation was quickly becoming as beautiful as Joseph's coat of many colours.
She continued adding odds and ends scraps - yellow, blue and grey - hoping the colours would look good with her pink and brown scarf.
That got Jaira thinking. She ought to complete her "Sunday" look with...a hat. Oh, she'd looked at the teen stores where she'd once shopped for church hats, even checking the big-name box stores. Alas, her train conductor style hats must have gone out of style.
Jaira would need a hat. After all, the Apostle Paul had made it clear that a woman was to cover her head. Besides, how darling to have one homemade!
She, Arlana and Adelaide had rocked lace doilies decades past. What would stop her from being able to pull off the look again? With matching scarf, Bible case, and hat, the men would be tripping all over themselves asking for her hand in marriage.
Jaira smirked, tying a knot, belting out the refrain as she sauntered towards the washroom, doily in hand.
"Almighty! We're standing in the presence of Your Majesty!"
She peered into the mirror, draping her baby-fine strands over her shoulders. How far she'd come from her upbringing in the Presbyterian church. Jaira now enunciated her "T's" like a perfectionist, just as Rachel had expected of her choir members. It was still a wonder to her that Miss Duane hadn't let her eight-year-old, musically gifted self join that precious choir.
Jaira's face contorted at the long-forgotten memories.
"Pricks Are Us."
Their loss.
For now, she was certain that not only would the Moselys set her up as the head chef, but possibly worship leader in their church or Sunday School music teacher. In that capacity, Jaira would bequeath her talents upon impressionable young minds. Jaira had the expertise, someone recognizing her talent, inevitable.
"For You alone the sovereign crown of royalty!"
Jaira dropped her masterpiece atop her head.
"Perfection."
****
JAIRA GRINNED, CATCHING sight of William scuffling through the rapidly rising snow, lighting up when her eyes fell upon the paper bag he clutched in his left hand.
Perfume? A small box of chocolates?
"Perfume?" Jaira gasped as he set it down atop the counter, before chuckling at her.
"You said we had no gravy," William extracted two tin cans from the sac before crumpling it to more easily fling it into the garbage can.
William might as well have done the equivalent to her heart. How many more years would he treat her as a disposable commodity?
Many maintain the first three years of marriage are the worst. Jaira begged to differ. She nibbled her bottom lip while setting the two cans in the cupboard. Even dollar store perfume would have sufficed for their eight-year anniversary.
William appeared unfazed, his gums taking hold of the flabby chicken wing, his tongue sliding over the bones.
"Don't worry. I booked a hotel for the night...in two weeks," William laughed at his own joke, pressing greasy fingers against the TV remote.
"I just thought... It is our anniversary..."
Perhaps it was the one tear that slipped past her eyelashes before it tumbled down her cheek that made William realize he'd messed up.
****
IF THE FLOWERS WEREN'T pathetic enough - four white, three yellow, six purple and one black-eyed Susan whose stems, when combined, were the diameter of a quarter at best, William's attitude ever worsened until Jaira resolved to sleep at the opposite end of the bed. Of course, awakening at 1:41 a.m. with an asthma attack only tipped the scales.
It wasn't like she was one hundred percent giving up - not trying. Who wouldn't appreciate made-from-scratch rolls, the fragrance of yeast-laced dough rising, gathering an excess of saliva?
Piping hot, William had slathered a roll with margarine.
"Good?"
"Yeah," William smacked his gums, exaggerating dryness.
Maybe if he'd put in his plastic teeth, it wouldn't be so difficult to chew. William hiccupped and his chin nearly hit his nose. Jaira grimaced. He reminded Jaira of one of her dad's postcards of a toothless old man.
Hurt, she turned away, a roll in each hand. Two days after their eighth anniversary, the four-stem bouquet appeared more like their marriage.
Straggly.
Unthoughtful.
Cheap.
****
JOSIAH LEANED AGAINST Lachlan's car door, fingering the tzitzit that hung from his waist.
"You know how badly it went last time..."
"Yes, but this is different. The meeting will not be held at a church, but a mission. From my experience, it is a more relaxed atmosphere as they serve the homeless and those that others tend to look down on in society." Lachlan reached over, lowering the volume on the CD. "If you want me to lead this service, alright. You know I am here for you in whatever capacity you need."
"I need to stay a while longer and just tie up some loose ends. There is so much catching up now from taking months off work. Would you mind going to the farm and checking in on Arlana...and mother, of course? I know you already have a lot on your plate and need to prepare for the meetings, but there really is no one else I would trust with Arlana. You know how precious she is to me and if I lost her now..."
Lachlan instinctively reached out, placing his hand on Josiah's arm. "I will look after her as if you were there. You know you can trust me and I would never betray you. Trust me, I think everyone knows you are in love. You haven't exactly kept it a secret." Lachlan chuckled when Josiah looked confused, knowing he hadn't breathed a word to anyone other than those who were directly involved in the betrothal. "It's written all over your face. You're smitten!"
"That obvious?" Josiah couldn't help but chuckle before he grew serious again, "I have been careful not to show Arlana even so much a glimpse of my feelings for her. She is so close, I don't want to jeopardize anything."
Lachlan shrugged, "I can't say I understand this custom of yours or the full scope of how important it is, but you have my word. You will have nothing to worry about in your absence. It is a wonder Arlana hasn't caught on to what is happening, but again, what do I know about females? I'll check Arlana and your mother then will head to the meetings. Will you be joining me there? What is your plan?"
"Yes, I will join you, but I have no intention of participating. For all anyone knows, I am simply there for support. I won't be a hindrance to the ministry like I was the last time. Surely you understand... Oh, and Lachlan, I believe you will have extra time. Mother was saying the barn roof is leaking on Arlana's farm. Would you mind taking a look at it and perhaps patching it up if you can? I will take care of it when I return but in the meantime...."
"Of course I don't mind."
"You're a great friend, Lachlan. Thank you. Okay, see you Thursday night at the meeting. I will meet you there, then head home..."
Josiah's eyes grew wistful a moment before he masked his emotions once more, concentrating on the present. Thoughts of Arlana had been a distraction over the past weeks. It would be good to be home.