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“YOU LOOK BEAUTIFUL today,” the old woman said.
Katrina looked over at Grandma Lucy, one of Orchard Grove Bible Church’s oldest congregants. Katrina’s lilac sweater didn’t feel like anything fancy, but it was nice of Grandma Lucy to make the remark. “Thank you.”
“Are you saving this for anyone?” Grandma Lucy pointed to the pew and sat down without waiting for an answer. “You’re always sitting by yourself Sunday mornings,” she remarked. “A pulpit widow.” Grandma Lucy reached out her hand and fingered Katrina’s wedding band. “This is lovely.”
“Thank you.”
Katrina hadn’t spent too much time with the old woman before. Grandma Lucy came to church with her niece Connie, who was volunteering in the nursery today, but neither of them showed up to any of the League events, as far as Katrina could remember. She wondered how long Grandma Lucy had been here, how many pastors she’d seen come and go, how many pastors’ wives had sat here in these pews, alone and isolated.
Pulpit widow.
It wasn’t a phrase Katrina would have thought up, but it was unfortunately fitting.
“You look tired, dear,” Grandma Lucy observed. “Are you unwell?
Maybe Grandma Lucy didn’t have a phone. Maybe she wasn’t part of the gossip line also known as the church prayer chain. Maybe she didn’t know about the miscarriage.
Katrina offered her best attempt at a smile. “I’m a little tired.”
Grandma Lucy nodded. There was something telling, almost sagely, in her expression that reminded Katrina of her voice teacher’s frank stares of approval.
Thinking about Miles brought a fresh wave of guilt on top of all the mortification she’d experienced this morning over the miscarriage. Great. There was no way she’d be able to focus on her husband’s sermon.
Grandma Lucy scooted a little closer in the pew. “You know, I was reading in my Bible this morning, and when I got to Psalm 51, the Lord told me to pray for you.”
Katrina had read the Bible, but she wasn’t familiar enough with Scripture that she could pinpoint which Psalm was which. She hoped it wasn’t one of the angry ones, one of the passages about God’s vengeance and anger. She smiled at Grandma Lucy. “Thanks for telling me. “What else was she supposed to say to that?
A few minutes later, when Mrs. Porter’s bald and rotund husband went up front and started reading off the church announcements, Katrina opened her church Bible and took a peek. Which Psalm had Grandma Lucy said? Fifty-one?
Have mercy on me, O God, according to your unfailing love; according to your great compassion blot out my transgressions. Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin.
Great. Was there anything the people at this church didn’t know about? If Nancy had heard Katrina and Miles alone in the sanctuary, who knew what would happen when that gossip started to make its rounds? Katrina could hear the conversations now.
Hello, this is Mrs. Porter calling with a prayer request. Yes, it’s about Katrina. Apparently, she was seen in the sanctuary alone with another man. No, not PG. I don’t know what it means, and of course we have to be careful not to speculate, but I just felt strongly in my spirit that we should put it on the prayer chain. Ask people to be praying for PG and Katrina and their marriage ...
Snow was falling lightly outside, and Katrina focused on the cascading snowflakes in a vain attempt to get her mind off this congregation, this town, this life. She’d been so excited at the thought of becoming a real pastor’s wife at a real church, but now she’d trade in all her titles for the chance to sit in a Sunday service where she was totally anonymous, her life once more totally private, and her secret sorrows and shames were hers to carry alone.