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Christine had known for years that
she would not marry young. If she had doubted it for a minute, it soon became
abundantly clear that she was a man repellant the moment she inherited her
deceased sister’s four homeschooled kids. It was humorous at first to watch
how the men fairly ran off the sidewalk when she and her brood took a stroll.
It wasn’t so bad, though, because she hadn’t felt the lack of a man back
then.
As part of her single state, she had also consigned herself to keeping her
virginity until the children grew up or a valiant man stepped forward and
agreed to marry her, taking on her rather large, ready-made family. What she
hadn’t bargained for is what had come to her — an impossible romance with a
Muslim widowed father of four. Things like this didn’t happen to people like
Christine, to strong Christians who lived for Christ all the way. Those
complications happened elsewhere.
That’s why it hit her so hard when it ended.
In fact, in spite of the fact that she found him handsome, and even with the
kindness he showed to both his kids and hers, she had intended for their
religious differences to be sufficient to keep them distanced from one
another. However, things didn’t work out that way. In fact, the more they
talked and argued about their opposing views about God, the more they liked
and respected one another.
In fact, while he had been arguing about the foolishness of the idea that God
would give his own son for millions of infidels, and after she mentioned
something she had read about Mohammed having once suspected that he might be
hearing from demons, they ended up somehow suddenly staring at one another in
shock. It was then she knew that she was truly falling for him – and that
this was not just a minor attraction she felt.
It was time to rethink this,
and so she decided to take some time away from him to pray. And after an
ultra-short period of shallow soul-searching, where she did little more than
hunt up loopholes in a very hard and fast rule against interfaith marriages,
she found one. The Bible said she should not be unequally yoked together with
unbelievers, and so she would not marry him. She would remain just friends
with Ahmed. As long as they didn’t get involved physically, she believed they
could keep things the way they were.
There was little wrong with
that idea, since friendship with him might actually draw him to Christ, she
reasoned. She also believed that it would be unfair to the kids to break off
the family-style relationship they had, where they often visited one
another’s homes and played in each other’s yards. Once she had rationalized
it to the best of her ability, she managed to convince herself that things
weren’t as intense between them as they had seemed, and that they were in no
moral danger.
On an October evening, while the adults sat outside talking under the stars,
the kids ate popcorn and watched a family-friendly movie in the family room
of Ahmed’s house. The adults talked and shared their feelings about how they
believed both they and the children were faring after the time they had spent
grieving the loss of a parent. As each wept silent tears, once again, Ahmed
and Christine found themselves sharing a look that was more than a glance.
Christine knew that they were
in danger, but he had made no move, and she found herself enjoying a feeling
of electric energy coursing through her at just a glance from his eyes. Ahmed
wished he could touch her, but he was aware of the precariousness of the
situation. If he moved even an inch toward her, he knew she would run. She,
on the other hand, wanted desperately for him to make a move, even while
warning bells sounded in her head, shrieking at her that this was wrong.
Only once had she let him kiss her, Ahmed remembered. It was after a lovely
barbecue they had in this same yard, while they had been sharing about their
mutual sense of loss. Apparently, that was a dangerous subject for them to
discuss. They found that each could relate as the other shared a story – he
about the loss of his wife, and she about her sister. The tenderness that each
one felt for their children upon losing a parent had drawn them to one
another, and he had held her and kissed her softly, at the time fully
expecting that shared embrace to be the first of many.
When they pulled apart, she had simply stared at him, wide-eyed, as if she
had just done something unpardonable. He found out later that it was her
first kiss. Still in shock, she had said, “Don’t do that again, please. I
can’t. You’re an unbeliever.” Laughing inside, Ahmed could only lower his
eyes to keep her from feeling mocked. His laughter, however, had nothing to
do with her.
During the course of his entire life, Ahmed had been known, even among other
die-hard Muslims, as a very righteous man. He did nothing but good things to
everyone who knew him; and aside for the fact that he was just a lowly mail
man no one had been able to speak against him regarding even the most minor
infraction. He was, in summary, as he had always heard from other boys
growing up, disgustingly perfect.
It wasn’t that Ahmed believed such a thing about himself. In fact, he of all
people knew the depth of his own wickedness. However, the thought that after
a lifetime of insults about his goodness and meekness he might be considered
an infidel – and by someone equally good – just made him laugh.
“How odd it is, Christine, that of all the people that I might have been
attracted to, you’re the one person who would classify me as an unbeliever.”
She laughed, losing some of her tension, and raising his hopes for another
chance. But her next words immediately crushed the happy thought.
“I’m sorry. I know that you have a strong faith, and
that you’re an honorable man; but your faith is not in Jesus Christ — and so
you know that to me, you’re an unbeliever. I can’t change that. Nothing can.
I’m sorry.”
“Not even if I accepted your
faith?” She chuckled. “I’m an editor. I have done extensive research on many
cultures, and I know that Muslim men are not above faking a conversion to win
themselves a bride. But would you want me that way – angry and resentful each
night as you crawled into bed with me?” Sighing, he shook his head.
He instinctively understood her
meaning. She wasn’t rejecting him because of his goodness or lack of it. She
was simply declaring what to her was a truth. He couldn’t fault her for it,
but he was infinitely sorry.
“You might have been the one.
It might still work.” She smiled and her eyes mirrored his feelings. “No, I
am definitely not the one for you.”
From that day on, Ahmed had been hooked. Rather than being swayed by her
argument, he was lured ever deeper into the attraction he felt. He would have
lied to have her, but he realized that he didn’t want such a lifestyle for
her. Real love insisted on the other’s happiness, and he was absolutely sure
this was real.
Like it or not, he could not
make himself stay away from her. His kids kept him busy and he was heavily
involved with his work and family, and yet every spare minute, when he wasn’t
busy, he sought her out. He spoke to her quietly, letting her know that their
children needed friendship, and that he knew that two mature adults could
surely maintain an innocent friendship for the sake of the kids. It worked,
thankfully, and when she wasn’t in church, she told herself that they were
simply finding opportunities to bring the kids together.
“How far can I go?” he asked as he kissed her in a shadowy corner of his
starlit yard. They had gone outside to talk, as usual, and when their
conversation had taken them to this spot, somehow they had once again found
themselves in a precarious position.
He was breathing heavy, and so
was she. They were pulling at one another, trying desperately to get closer
without actually going any further. It was wrong, and the both of them knew
that, but neither one wanted to stop just yet. Consequences would come later.
For now, only their lust mattered.
His words, however, pulled her out of her fog and helped her to see things
straight. “No farther,” she breathed. Then, pulling away, she said firmly,
“No more.” Her voice was firm, but her body was shaking – as was his. This
is impossible.
Each of them thought it, but for different reasons. Christine was trying to
think up a way to break up with Ahmed, although they had never actually
claimed a relationship, while Ahmed was working up the right approach to
propose to her while getting her to agree. Their whole life was becoming
wrapped up in this relationship, and Ahmed knew that he could never be happy
without her. He only hoped she would listen to his idea.
Pulling her close again, he kissed her, this time softly, hardly touching her
but allowing their body heat to entice one another. He had dreamed of this —
of being able to enjoy her touch, to feel her lips again. It was like the
most beautiful dream coming true upon waking. Only he was still dreaming.
Somehow he knew that when they both really woke up, it would be over. But he
had to try. In fact, he couldn’t have kept his words inside.
“I want to marry you.” She shook her head. Now, she struggled to get away.
Squeezing her against his chest, he said insistently, “Tell me this is wrong.
Tell me loving you is a sin. Tell me that you don’t feel the rightness of
it.” She murmured, “It’s wrong,” even as she let him kiss her again.
In that moment, she couldn’t
have stopped him. He could have pulled her to the ground and had his way with
her, and she would have succumbed. She was disconnected from reality at the
moment, floating on a cloud of sensations; reason seemed far away. It was
there, trying to send a message, but so were his kisses -- and they drowned
out everything.
Ahmed was a gentleman, and he would not take advantage of her, but he felt
that he just had to hold her a little longer. Taking her into his arms,
lifting her like a child, he sat down on the swing, his hands reaching around
to bring her to his chest.
“I love you, Christine. I would
make you happy if you married me. We could sit like this every evening. You
would come into my bed with me every night and I would show you how much I
love you. I would treasure you and keep you safe. You would never have to
worry with me.”
For a moment, Christine felt she could not say no. She wanted him to marry
her. Everything he described seemed lovely, and right now, going to bed with
him sounded heavenly. She did not know what other magical feelings he could
awaken in her, but she knew enough right now to want to learn more. She
craved more.
Christine prayed then. I know that I made this happen. I realize
that I caused this situation, Lord. By ignoring you, by ignoring your word, I
have gotten myself into something I am afraid will ensnare me. Please, Lord,
help me to escape temptation.
After a moment of silence,
Christine said, “I know you would try. You might even do it. I might be the
happiest woman in the world as your wife. I can’t imagine not feeling that
way. But it’s still not okay.” Powerless to move, she let him kiss her once
again, this time on the neck.
She shuddered. He kept his lips
there. He needed all the convincing powers he could summon. Trailing his lips
along her sensitive nerves again, allowing his lips to trace their way along
to her shoulder, he said, “Marry me.”
She almost said yes. But she
couldn’t do that. He might have his way with her now, and she was powerless to
stop him, but she would not link her life with his. For herself she may have
done it, but she couldn’t do that to him. Suddenly, she felt a surge of
stubborn energy pull her upright in his arms.
“I know as well as you do that if I did that, you might never come to
Christ.” Somehow, he understood her. But he argued anyway. “You could
convince me. Maybe. Who knows?” Their next kiss was stronger, deeper, while
they both considered the idea of permanence. Nothing sounded more attractive
to each right now than marriage, and yet she continued to struggle.
“I’m sorry, Ahmed, but you’ll have to put me down. I need to get home, and I
would like to walk.” He laughed. Somehow, tonight at the end, he could laugh.
The tears would come later.
“A little weak in the knees,
hmm?” His voice sounded lovely, doing things to her insides as it caressed
her with its loveliness. His teasing question left her weaker yet, especially
when he kissed her thoroughly once more before releasing her to the seat next
to him.
“Well, I have one consolation,” he said. She grunted. “Huh?” Smiling, he
said, “You’ll have to let me touch you if you want to get home, or you’ll
fall over.” She giggled, but the release of one emotion only seemed to open
the floodgates for them all to come pouring out. Sadly, she said, “I wish we
hadn’t done this. It’ll haunt me for life.” Nodding, he agreed.
“I thought I couldn’t help
myself. Even one moment seemed worth it, but now I see that you’re right. I’m
branded by your touch. Everywhere you’ve been belongs to you. My lips, my
neck, my chest, my heart.” Christine began to cry.
He shouldn’t feel happy to see her pain. Still, part of him felt victorious
at the sight of her tears. She couldn’t say it didn’t hurt her to reject him,
and his pride was elevated. Yet his pride could not console him when she
refused to kiss him at the door.
“Send the kids over, okay?” she said as she headed toward the door, lowering
her gaze to avoid his eyes. Then, turning back to him as she stepped inside,
she said sadly, “I’m sorry. I really am sorry about all the pain I have
caused you.”
Suddenly angry, Ahmed growled, “You hurt me, but it’s hurting you, too. Stop
acting as if it’s all about me. You won’t be happy, either. You think that
doesn’t hurt me twice as much? I want to see you happy.” Then, dejectedly,
because he suddenly realized what that might mean, he added, “But perhaps I
don’t want to see it, after all.”
Christine could have told him
that would never happen. She would never find someone else. Ahmed was the
only one for her. But that wouldn’t have helped anything, and she had caused
him enough pain. A clean break was the best idea, she figured. However, any
break at all was going to hurt – a lot.
The next day, Christine awoke
more confused than ever. There was more that she could do, she realized as
she prepared breakfast. She felt it. But she did not have the presence of
mind to think about it now.
At the moment, all she could do
was cry. She was consumed by a misery so terrible, she did not know if she could
live through it. And although the thought of such emotional torment might
have sounded dramatic to her a week ago, she knew today that such a phrase
couldn’t come close to the true horror of its reality.
How did I allow myself to fall completely, head-over-heels in love with
the wrong man? Somehow, she had not realized that her heart was capable
of such a thing. After so many years alone, meeting no men who had managed to
stir her emotions how was she to know?
Christine thought for a moment
and realized how true the Word was when it stated that the heart was
deceitful above all things and desperately wicked.3 The pain she was going through
now was her fault, she knew. Her heart had convinced her that her
relationship with Ahmed was right, and even when she had known the truth, she
had believed it. Still, it seemed so unfair that this break and its
consequent pain could have come upon her so suddenly.
Why didn’t you warn me? she asked her soul. Yet there was no response
from that quarter, except more despondency, overwhelming sadness, and
impossibly powerful aching. The amount and the overwhelming intensity of her
pain felt like an experience she had been through as a youth. She remembered
the scene now, and just knowing that she had gotten past such a terrible
thing once comforted her somewhat now.
Upon waking from an appendix operation as a teenager, she had believed that
she could still feel the knife in her belly. It had seemed to her foggy mind
that she had surprised the doctor in the middle of the operation. Even before
she opened her eyes, she began screaming, trying to tell them to put her back
under until the operation was over, but although her mind sought some
coherent words, only primal screams had escaped her mouth.
When the nurses had tried to calm her, promising to give her something for
the pain, she didn’t feel any better. The intensity of her suffering was such
that mere words were empty and comfortless. Eventually, when the pain had
eased, her screaming had stopped, but the sobs that wouldn’t go away shook
her body for a long time, until her mother came and enveloped her in a warm
hug.
At that moment, she felt the
hands of her heavenly father gently cradling her head. At the time, everyone
had humored her. Still, no one had fully believed it. Having looked all
around the room and seen no one else, however, and still feeling the caress
of his hands, Christine had known that God was present.
Why didn’t you hold me while I
was screaming? she asked God, and his answer was sweet to her, and memorable. I
was holding you, but you were too distraught to feel me until now. From
that point on, Christine had never doubted the veracity of God’s promises or
his word. For that reason, she knew that he was holding her now, when the
pain was too great for her to feel any comfort. And Christine knew that she
could get through this now, though it felt as if the sorrow might kill her.
Remembering that day again, she thought about how good intentions had been
the cause of her suffering. She learned later that a child just before her
had almost died from too much anesthesia, so in an effort to avoid that, the
anesthesiologist had not given any to Christine until she awakened. It was
understandable, considering the situation, but the experience tormented
Christine with nightmares for months afterward.
Pain like that stayed with a person for a long time, she now knew. Christine
imagined that this pain would last a long time, as well. But though the
nightmares after her operation had eventually faded into a vague dread,
Christine could not imagine ever getting over this experience. “Oh, Ahmed,”
she sighed. She didn’t complete the thought. She had nothing left to say.
That night, the phone rang. Tally answered it and asked her quietly, “Do you
want to speak with Ahmed?” Sadly, Christine nodded. She took the cordless
phone into her bedroom and sat with the receiver in her hand, not quite
knowing what to do. Should I hang it up? At this point, she would do
anything to get beyond where they were now.
If God had asked her to do
anything, she would have done it. Instead, she felt a gentle backing away, as
if to give her space. But Christine didn’t want room to decide. She wanted
directions.
I love this man, Lord, and you
won’t let me marry him. Then at least tell me what to do. Ahmed sighed on the other end.
“So you’re doing it, too?” Until that moment, she hadn’t realized that she
had spoken aloud. He continued, “I’ve been asking Allah how this could have
happened to me — a righteous man who does no harm. He has no answers for me,
none even in the Koran I have read from my childhood. Somehow, there is no
help for me there.” Christine sighed, realizing that this was one moment she
would have wished to avoid. She was exhausted, and hearing of his pain only
drained her further.
“So I read a Christian Bible — the one you gave me. It does me no good,
either. I read that passage you quoted, “Be ye not unequally yoked with unbelievers.2” I would not have yoked you. I
would adore you. I would treat you like a queen. I would hold you and love
you, kiss you all day long.”
There was silence for some
time, and then he said, “Please come meet me at the mailbox. I won’t touch
you. I just want to see you for a moment. To breathe the same air as you.
Please.”
Christine went. She didn’t know how not to go. It did not matter that it was
wrong. In fact, she was tired of doing what was right. She was sick of
everything right now, and she didn’t want to be reminded that it was childish
or stupid for her to feel this way – that it was her own fault. All she
wanted was to touch him.
They met at the mailbox. It was
where she first saw him – his gorgeous eyes glowing in the moonlight, his
bronze skin seeming darker and more exotic. She should have known then.
Upon finishing her work that
first night, she had needed a walk. Heading to the mailbox, she remembered
the cause of this 2 o’clock
finishing time. Staying up late to catch up with her tasks for her publishing
company seemed like a little thing, however, when measured against the extra
time had been able to spend with Tally that evening.
Tally was her precious youngest
girl, and making her smile had become one of Christine’s favorite pastimes.
That day, she and Tally had played Monopoly, stretching the game time farther
by generously sharing money and property with one another when one ran out.
It was a ridiculous way to play, and Tally and Christine knew it, but the
goal wasn’t a win – it was quality time.
Of all her children, Tally was
the only one whose love language1 was quality time. The others
preferred to see what Christine brought them from her occasional trips out of
town for work. Or they preferred to ask for her help with some task. Zonny
wanted her to listen to him, and to praise him, as well.
Only Tally felt that spending a
day playing an endless game of Monopoly was good fun, and so it was for Tally
that Christine reserved long hours for playing and goofing off. Then, she
paid for that with late work hours and a rough start in the morning – a trade
well worth its cost.
The mailbox was a long walk
down the hill from the house. Her home was built on one of the few hilly
spots in all of Florida.
It looked like one of those pages from Dr. Seuss, with a house on one hill
and another far over on the next. And as far as the eye could see, that was
all there was to her neighborhood. She had never me the other neighbors, and
that night, she was to meet the head of that family. But she wouldn’t know
that until later.
At present, coming down the
hill at 2am, all Christine
knew was that there was a beat up white car at her mailbox and a strange man
whose face was hidden in the shadows was reaching his hand inside. She wanted
to rush at him screaming, “Get out of here! What are you doing?” But then,
she also felt afraid. Who is this man? Finally,
she steeled herself, squared her shoulders, and headed toward him boldly,
walking at a brisk and formal pace.
“Hello.” He spoke the words
first, appearing a bit flustered at seeing her, but quickly regaining his composure
and giving her a delighted smile. “I am so sorry to have scared you,” he said
then, because he had finally focused his lovely eyes on her face and realized
that she looked both upset and afraid.
“What are you doing here?” she
said bluntly. “Ah, yes. I don’t believe you are accustomed to seeing a mail
carrier working at this hour. I’m sorry. You see, my father was ill, and so I
left work in a hurry, only realizing after we found out that he was safe that
I had your letters in my vehicle. I live right up the hill, so I thought I’d
bring them by now, on my way home…”
His voice trailed off, due
partly because she was looking at him with a frozen, expressionless stare,
but also because he had become distracted when he looked back at her face.
Christine wore no make-up and
her clothes were generic. She had a clean face, with good skin and hair. In
general, she was pretty. However, when angry or upset, she did something with
her eyes that was captivating. And right now, she was experiencing both emotions.
Finally, realizing that no one
had spoken for a while, Christine groped around for some mannerly thing to
say, like, “Oh, no problem. That’s perfectly understandable.” Instead, her
mouth took over and rudely commented, “So you thought your father was going
to die today?”
Rather than responding to her
question, the man reached out a hand to her, in an effort to be distracting,
she later realized, and said, “My name is Ahmed. And I was always planning to
get to know the neighbors.” Then, as if testing the waters, he added, “I have
four kids … you’ve seen them?”
In fact, Christine had often
seen a small group of stair-step sized children getting on the local school
bus as she looked out the window in the morning. “Yes. Yes.” Finally, her
mouth was obeying her commands, and she breathed a sigh of relief. “I have
four kids, as well. Are you raising them alone? I am.”
Christine could have chewed off
and then swallowed her tongue. Why did
I ask that question? Now he’s going to think I was fishing around to find out
if he’s single. Which, in fact, she had been doing. She liked this guy,
and he was obviously taken by her, as well.
“Yes, I thought my father might
die. He had a mild heart attack, but he’s fine, now. He’s going to have a
full recovery. In fact, they sent him home.” Ahmed gave her a very complete
explanation, but he had done it on his own terms and in his own time. It was
a trait that was to draw her like a moth to a flame.
Tonight, however, was another
time. Their meeting had been months in the past, and after half a year
together, they had many more such images they could dwell on and ponder. They
had a history, and she loved him. She did not know how to let him go.
It only took a moment from her
arrival at the mailbox for Ahmed to reach out and take her into his arms.
Taking her. That’s how it was. He pulled her against his chest, breathing in
her essence. It was so special for her, to feel his arms and his body as he
held her tightly. It was like Heaven for a moment. Then he began to speak.
“I’m sorry. I promised not to touch you.” He had apologized, but he didn’t
let go, and Christine didn’t really want him to. He spoke again, holding her
closer. “I know now that you’re right. We have to be apart, because you won’t
be able to stand the confusion our relationship is causing.” He saw that she
was crying, and he pulled away.
“It’s too much for you, isn’t
it?” She could only sob, like she did on the day of her operation. For so
long she had sobbed back then, and now she couldn’t stop, either. It is true
that physical pain can overwhelm a person to the point of wishing for death.
Yet the emotional pain was just as hard for Christine. She longed to be away
from it all. Any relief, any escape, would have been welcome, and so she
allowed herself to be kissed. And he kissed her, again and again, which only
made things harder.
“Come with me,” he said, and she went. Taking her hand, he walked up the
hill, away from the glow of her porch light. Softly, he crept into his
office, which was in the detached garage, a stone’s throw from his house.
There, he led her into their guest bedroom. He took her into the bed, and
still she came. She was powerless and blind. That’s how she felt; only she
didn’t feel at all. She was numb, and yet in so much pain that everything was
agony, everything but being in his arms, so she took it, greedily.
When he lay down on the bed
beside her, wrapping his arms around her body, she let him. It was
excruciatingly beautiful, and she wanted it to last forever. He kissed her
over and over.
Finally, he asked softly, “Will
you promise not to say no, whatever I do?” She nodded, but couldn’t help but
say, “The kids. There can’t be any sign of this.” Springing up from the bed,
he looked around. “I have nothing. Oh, Christine, for lack of a condom I will
lose the chance to take what even your God didn’t keep from me this time?” He
grabbed at his hair in frustration.
“Go,” he said. Christine went.
As she walked out, she said softly, “You’re wrong. God did it again. It wasn’t
a condom. It was God.”
She was so glad to be free from
him so easily, and yet she ached with the thought of what might have been. How
could I have wanted that? Am I crazy? Deep down, she figured that in a
way, she was.
Christine was ashamed to realize that if he had insisted, she would have done
anything he asked, with or without protection. But he had heeded her request.
He had been as wrong as she had been, and yet when it mattered, he could be
trusted to protect her. Christine sighed as she entered her house. It was not
fair that a man so considerate and respectful could not be hers.
She was tired. Tired of being told no, tired of waiting and wanting,
and even tired of praying. She was especially tired of crying. I don’t
want to cry, God.
His voice was clear when he
spoke his answer. Then stop disobeying me. Leave him alone.
For the following days, Ahmed called constantly. When he asked for her, she
took the phone into the room, pressing the off button each time. She didn’t want Tally to see her hang up on
him, and so she faced temptation with every call, for each time she shut the
door to her bedroom, she was confronted with the idea of lifting the receiver
and listening to his voice.
It was only Ahmed, her mind
would cry to her, not some serial killer. He was a good man. He would not
harm her.
The defensive statements would fall dead to the ground, unheeded temptations
to do evil. Not just evil to herself, but to Ahmed. Finally, the day came
when Tally followed her into the room silently and saw her click the button.
She asked, “Why didn’t you talk to him? He’s your friend! Why would you turn
on him like this?”
Christine had dreaded this moment, but there was no need. When Christine
spoke, Tally listened, and within moments, she understood. “So if you married
Ahmed, he would have thought that he was more important to you than God. Even
if you never left God and kept serving him, right?” Christine nodded.
“But you wanted to. You wanted to marry him, didn’t you?” Nodding again,
Christine managed to say, “I’ve never been in love, and it was amazing. Right
now, there’s only one thing I want more than Ahmed.”
Tally nodded knowingly. “It’s
Jesus—you want Jesus more.” Christine hugged her, happy to have an ally.
On the following Thursday, Christine got a call from her cousin, also named
Christine. “Hey, copycat!” It was their standard greeting, since neither
could be convinced that she didn’t deserve to have the name first.
Since they had been born two days apart, but
the younger had not been named until the third day, technically, this
Christine had the name first. But the elder one stubbornly claimed the right
of seniority. It was silly, but it made them laugh, and they both loved the
game.
Today, however, Christine wasn’t so enthusiastic in her return greeting. “Hi,
Cuz.” Sadly, the voice on the other line said, “What happened? Oh, what are
you going through?” Upon hearing a brief version of her tale, she spoke
again, “Listen, how about you come over here for a few days, okay?” Nodding,
Christine agreed. “I’ll go. In fact,” she added, “I need to get out of here
for a while.”
Christine’s cousin lived in New York, a big city with a frantic lifestyle. It
was funny how one cousin seemed to drink it up and the other loved best the
part of her visit that took her back home to the quiet. However, this time,
Christine was eager to get to New
York.
In spite of her pain, and even though the cousins longed to see one another,
Christine was eager to visit and learn more about a female coworker she had
heard about who lived and worked at the New York office.
Tasha was a rising star in the same publishing company that employed
Christine. This young newcomer had the amazing ability to feel the pulse of
the readers, often before they knew what they wanted. She somehow managed to
get her hands on only the best work, and it all turned to gold when she
touched it. Though Christine wasn’t ready to meet anybody new just now, she
planned to take a few hours and drop in at the office, learning a bit about
this woman from the office grapevine.
The kids were less enthusiastic about the trip than she might have liked.
“What’s going on with you guys? This’ll be fun.” The children crowded around
and began firing objections. “How can we do this; we’ve got so much to do
here still!”
Christine had thought about it, long and hard. She had considered leaving the
older ones with Ahmed, knowing that they would be safe with him. However, in
the end, she decided that she needed her children with her—all of them. Besides,
asking Ahmed for help again might defeat the purpose of leaving, since they
would be forced to converse and think of one another more than if she just
took the kids. And all she wanted was to get away from him for a while.
Funny, Lord, isn’t it? After feeling like I needed a break from all of the
stress and bother of 24/7 motherhood, when I’m in a bind, I want them with
me. She chuckled as she overcame their objections, one by one, with
careful reasoning and a mother’s love. In the end, they all left together,
happy and excited about their upcoming adventure in the Big Apple.
Both cousins worked for the
same Christian publisher.
When she inherited her sister’s
kids, it had made sense to Christine to work long distance via her computer
and continue to homeschool the kids her sister had raised that way. It was
tough, and often they didn’t get the amount of work finished that Christine
had expected to complete each week, but they were still ahead of the public
school system in many areas and Christine was helping them feel secure and at
home in their new life with her.
Her cousin worked in New York, interning at
the publisher’s main headquarters while attending the university and
finishing up her postgraduate degree. She was a Florida girl and always would be, but the
city life was a fun break that she was enjoying immensely. Eventually, she
would return home to her single mother and continue her work close to home.
Right now, her mother, Mandy, had been in an automobile accident, and though
she insisted that everything was fine, Christine had rushed home to see for
herself. So, for a few days, the kids were alone with their foster mother,
enjoying the sights.
On their first night in New York,
they stayed in a hotel suite provided by her publisher. Her cousin would be
back the next evening. “In the meantime,” her boss, Rod said, “Enjoy the view
and the amenities. We don’t always dish out the big bucks for our lowly
editors.” Smiling, Christine chucked him on the arm and sent him out the door
with a kiss on the cheek.
“You’re a winner, Rod.” His comeback was practiced and smooth. “So why don’t
you marry me?” Although he had used the same line on many women over the
years, Christine suspected an unusual sincerity in the question. “What?
You’re in love with me now?” His smile deepened. “Who isn’t?” Coloring
slightly, he bowed his head and left while his dignity could still be kept.
It had been a long time since she and Rod had worked side by side. She had
become a mother since then, and he had become a much more decided bachelor.
Now, he seldom dated, his secretary told her confidentially. “I worry about
him. He seems so serious. I mean, he seems almost morbid since you left.”
The truth was, before she moved to Florida
to raise her sister’s kids, Christine had lived in a small condo nearby. Even
before then, she had been a consummate New Yorker, and believing that she
matched his ideal, Rod had proposed. The ring was still in his possession,
she assumed. The day she said no, she received the news of her sister’s death
and moved to Florida
in a hurry, eager to raise the kids she loved so much.
When she asked him for the transfer, he cried. It had been the only time in
her life she could say that a man had seemed to love her, and still she
imagined that he fancied himself attached to her. Still, she knew the real
thing now. What Rod had was a broken dream, not a broken heart. Her hope was
to somehow show him that during this visit.
Their first night was fun, and the kids and she had smiled and smiled. She
felt wonderful, until they got to sleep. When her body relaxed, she dreamed
of Ahmed, and even though she didn’t know much about what happened beyond a
kiss, she imagined herself going further. When she woke up crying, she
decided not to go back to sleep.
I hate this, Lord, she prayed. It’s too hard.
Why did you let me do it? Why did you let me fall in love? But she
couldn’t blame God. He had warned her repeatedly, but she had willingly
continued the friendship, even beyond the first kiss, and then the second had
been too late. By then, she was too far gone to do anything to avoid the pain
that came.
I’ll do whatever you ask, Lord. Just take this misery away. Help me to
love him enough to let him go. Help him to find you instead of me -- if
that’s the only way it’ll happen. I don’t want to lose him for eternity. He’s
lost to me now, but let me see him again in Heaven.
Christine jumped when Tally touched her. “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to
scare you.” It was nice to hear her saying “mom” instead of “auntie.” It fed
a hunger in her soul that he hadn’t known existed. I would have liked to
have had babies. Tally sighed.
“You would have made a great mom.” Christine stared at her. “What makes you say
that?” Tally gave her a lopsided smile, one that clearly said that Christine
was asking a foolish question. “You were thinking about it. I wish you could
have had a child of your own.” Seeing how transparent she was to this little
one, Christine hugged her and pulled her into her lap like a baby.
“Is there something you aren’t telling me? Aren’t you my very own little
girl?” Laughing at the tickles that Christine was raining across her belly,
the child’s voice sounded like the tinkling of bells. “Yes, I’m your girl.”
Nodding with satisfaction, Christine said, “You’re all the children I
need—each of you. If God wanted to give me more, it wouldn’t take away one
bit from how much you all have blessed me and filled my life. I’m happy.
Truly I am.”
Tally nodded and then sighed.
“You would have made a wonderful mom for a really little baby, too.” Turning,
she went back to her room and lay on her bed. Tally’s eyes dripped tears, and
Christine did not interrupt. This was how Tally prayed. She got alone with God
and she felt the pain of the people she prayed for. And even though it seemed
unnecessarily painful, Tally said that God comforted her, too.
Christine had asked the Lord about it once. Tally had picked up her head,
with a tear trailing down and answered her. “It’s because that’s how he uses
me. I don’t know why. There is no other explanation.” Nodding, Christine had
decided to accept it as fact, because she knew that when Tally prayed, God
answered.
Tally was her angel, but Zonny was her light bulb. She didn’t manage to live
through many hours without one of Zonny’s smiles, and she liked it that way.
Thankfully, she also got to hear his laughter often. He was a comical little
fellow, and he had a big heart. Whenever Tally cried, Zonny comforted her. It
was an unusual pairing—the clown and the mystic, but it worked.
Christine awakened to a knock
at the door. “Hello?” she called as she undid the deadbolt. “Hello,
yourself,” came her cousin’s happy call. Smiling, Christine swung the door
wide and found herself face to face with a friend. “How are you? Let’s get
you out of here.” Yup, Copycat had arrived. And in her usual way, she had
come through like a whirlwind, promising yet another adventure.
In her apartment, she had a
great set of video games, all very clean and fun for the kids. They got busy
playing and the cousins were free to head downstairs into the basement.
Christine walked through her
cousin’s home with a feeling of déjà vu. Even though everything about their
lives was different now, Christine could feel the years melting away as she
walked down the basement steps and sat with her cousin on her bed.
“Wow, Copycat, after all of
these years, you still manage to bring back the past for me.” Laughing, her cousin
said, “Maybe some of the past should stay dead and buried, no?” “Ouch,”
Christine said. “That incident happened almost thirty years ago, and we have
to have learned something since then.” Her cousin only smiled.
“Come on, Copycat, where are
you getting this information?” Laughing, she answered, “Your kids can’t keep
anything secret.” At the mention of the kids, they both sobered a bit. The
thought of them brought to mind the children’s deceased mother, the third
member of their mischief team.
Dropping the previous subject,
they began talking about Angela, and about how much they missed her. They
laughed about the trouble that they had gotten themselves into as kids, and
about all of the bones they had broken. Finally, they both cried a few tears,
but they were peaceful reminders of the love that they shared for Angela, and
they held no bitterness, for both ladies knew that she was safe in the
Father’s arms.
“It’s probably a good thing that we didn’t
stay together in our teens. Moving in opposite directions to cities so far
apart probably kept us from going bad. It seemed we could never keep from
taking one another’s dares, and they got worse each time.”
Christine remembered the time
that they had planned to steal the neighbor’s underwear off of her porch.
Laughing at the memory of the big dog that chased her and took a piece out of
her pants, she sat up and began pulling at her cousin’s shirt sleeve.
“Remember Bowser?” They both began howling
with laughter as if they were still kids. Suddenly, Aunt Tally came
downstairs to check up on them. “When you two get together,” she said in a
motherly tone, “there’s always trouble.” Her daughter’s familiar words
brought a lump to Christine’s throat.
“Get over here!” Copycat said. “I’ve missed
you!” They held one another for a moment, both remembering the times that
they had spent summers together in quiet isolation while the other girls went
out to theme parks. Christine had always been afraid of the wilder rides, and
since her cousin’s daughter was the same way, Christine and Tally had chosen
to visit zoos and museums together, instead.
However, she and Tally had
never felt lonely. They found ways to keep busy on those days and they
enjoyed the experience immensely. While they roamed the city or sat and
sewed, the older teaching the younger the fine points of embroidery and
button-holes, they had become quite close. The memory of that time was still
precious to each of them.
Both pulled back at the same
time and smiled into one another’s eyes.
“Okay, auntie, I’m going now. You two have more to talk about.” Then,
winking, Tally went back upstairs.
“So,” her cousin asked her,
“what is it that Tally thinks you have to tell me? And how does she know
before I do?” Christine chuckled, and then suddenly, she was weeping. It had
seemed as if she should be out of tears, but she wasn’t, and she needed these
now. Allowing her to cry, her cousin headed out to the laundry area and made
a bag of microwave popcorn in the tiny kitchen she had in there. While she was
gone, Christine was able to put herself back together.
“I missed you, cousin. I truly
did,” she said.
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