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SHE WOULDN’T GO TO church today. It was as simple as that. She hadn’t missed a Sunday yet, not even after everything that happened last fall. She had wanted to stay home then, but Greg talked her into going. Reminded her that church was like a family that you could turn to when you were hurting. Except nobody there knew about her pain. Even Greg forgot after those first few days.
She was still in bed, even though it was past the time she usually headed over. Greg was gone, spreading salt over the icy walkways and doing whatever else he did to get ready for the service. She would explain it to him when he came back, tell him about her cramps. Anything that hinted at lady problems sent her husband racing to the next county to avoid talking about uncomfortable issues. He might be disappointed about her missing church, and there was still the issue of nobody to work in the nursery, but it wouldn’t be the first time a volunteer failed to show up without notice.
She deserved a break, didn’t she? Just one week without checking over her shoulder to make sure the nursery volunteer remembered to go downstairs after the singing. One week without Mrs. Porter reminding her of all the things that she had forgotten. Katrina’s to-do list multiplied over Thanksgiving and was now five times its usual size and would stay that way until New Year’s.
Her midsection seized up, firing pain through her hips and lower back. Thankfully she was just uncomfortable. No flashbacks, at least not yet. Even so, it would probably only be a matter of time.
She heard Greg’s footsteps down the hall and rehearsed her excuse. He’d be disappointed, then he’d get over it. Sundays were stressful for him, that was all. It wouldn’t be personal. He’d forget about it by next week.
The door crashed open and Greg plowed into the bedroom. “Where have you been?”
She sat up as quickly as she could, dismissing her plans to skip church as childish and lazy. Agony grabbed her entire torso and refused to release her.
Greg’s scowl melted off his face. “Mouse, what’s wrong? Are you sick?”
The next wave of cramps was strong enough to erase the sound of his voice until all she heard was the horrific beeping of the machine they had hooked her up to in the hospital to check her vitals last fall. She shut her eyes. Nurses. How many of them? Two? Three? Arguing about how much pain medication they were supposed to give. She was lying there bleeding out, and the only thing anyone cared about was whether the doctor had said five cc’s or ten.
“Mouse, do you need to go to the hospital?”
He was holding her hand. Greg. Her Greg. The one she had agonized over so many restless nights. The one she had filled three whole journals writing about during her senior year of high school. Praying. Apologizing to God, ashamed of her emotions. Begging the Lord to take away her feelings. Reminding herself it was a stupid, ridiculous, unrequited crush.
Until she saw his eyes the night of the Christmas party. And now those same soft eyes were watching over her with a mixture of fear and pain. “Mouse, tell me what’s wrong.”
She blinked back tears. She had work to do. Of all the women in Orchard Grove who still menstruated, she wouldn’t be the one to let a few cramps paralyze her for the day. She had duties at church. She was the nursery coordinator, and there was nobody else to watch those kids so their parents could worship properly. She was the pastor’s wife. Her place was by Greg’s side, greeting congregants, supporting her husband, praying for him from her seat in the front of the sanctuary.
“I’m ok.”
He helped her out of bed. His touch was so strong. Protective. She wanted to hug him. Let him swallow her up in his arms. Lean her head against his chest and stay there all day, listening to his heartbeat. She thought about the night they chaperoned prom for the small Christian school in Long Beach. She was almost twenty years old, but it was the first school dance she’d ever attended. Even so, her mom probably wouldn’t have let her go if she’d realized Greg would be there. If she realized what would happen that night. There were so many things her mom hated about Katrina. The way she couldn’t hold a tune when she sang. The way she swayed too much when she played her violin. The way she fell in love with a penniless youth pastor.
He kissed the top of her head. “Cramps?”
She nodded.
“They bad?”
Another nod.
“Do you want to stay in bed?”
He was so good to her. She knew how tense he got before church service, but even now he was thinking about her well-being. She reached out for the black dress hanging in the back of their closet. “I’ll be ok.”
“You sure?”
Why couldn’t things always be like this? Why couldn’t he always be so compassionate? So caring? During their entire courtship and engagement, he had acted like a prince. Sending her sweet emails throughout the day. Buying her little trinkets whenever he was out just because he was thinking about her. Cooking dinner on the weekends, just the two of them. They’d stay up late playing board games or reading Narnia books to each other.
God, what happened?
She got herself dressed, and he didn’t leave her side. He rubbed the small of her back where the pain radiated the most. She didn’t deserve his love. Didn’t deserve any of this.
“Do you want some Tylenol?”
She pulled on her nylons. “Yes, please.”
“Anything for my Mouse.”
He kissed her cheek and let his lips linger close to her mouth. She thought again of that night chaperoning the prom, how they had stayed late to take down decorations until they were the only two people left. She had seen that same hopefulness in his eyes that night too. That same hunger. Except this time, she wasn’t a teenager in his youth group. This time, they were two adults, free to make their own decisions.
Free to fall in love.
She watched him leave as she slipped on her black heels. She hadn’t realized it at first, but she was dressed in perfect concert attire. All black. No collars to get in the way of her chin rest. No ostentatious jewelry to distract the audience from her music. She wondered what her friends would be playing at the holiday pops concert. This would be the first Christmas she could remember without going, either as an audience member or part of the orchestra. Who sat in her seat now? Was it someone who got promoted up to her stand or a rookie? Could they turn the pages fast enough to satisfy Stan’s grumpy demands?
Greg came back a few minutes later with two pills and a mug of Ovaltine. “Here you go.”
He rubbed the back of her neck while she swallowed the Tylenol. The hot chocolate slipped down her throat and sent waves of heat rippling out from her stomach. “Thanks.”
He bent down and kissed her forehead. “Any time. You sure you feel up for church today?”
She twisted her wedding band and glanced at her fingernails. How long had it been since she caressed the strings of her violin? “Yeah.”
“I’ll ask Mrs. Porter to take over nursery so you can just rest during the service.”
“That’s ok. I’ll be all right.” At least the rocking chair downstairs was more comfortable than the pews.
Another kiss. A lingering one. “I love you, Mouse.”
“I love you too.”
He wrapped his arm around her, and they walked together to the entryway where he draped her coat over her shoulders.
Katrina swallowed down the painful lump in her throat.
God, what happened?