Not a Sparrow Falls (30 page)

“Oh, gag me with a spoon.”

We will marry here. Alasdair says it will be better that way. Something about his sisters. I do hope they like me. He says not to fret. That there is absolutely nothing I can do about that particular circumstance. I’m not sure what he means, but it doesn’t sound very good.

“She got that right,” Samantha said.

I will put all that out of my mind. Today I am engaged. I am marrying my prince, the one for whom I was made and who was made for me.

Samantha poked her finger down her throat. Bridie ignored her and turned the page.

The Marriage of Anna Ruth Williams and Alasdair Robert MacPherson,
the heading said, again in the beautiful script and gold ink. Anna had illuminated the
M.
All kinds of beautiful flowers spilled from it and flowed down the page in different colors of ink. A professional wedding photograph was mounted under the heading.

She was beautiful. Her dress was ivory satin, off the shoulder. Her hair was piled onto her head, tendrils escaping. The train spilled down the steps of the church. Alasdair wore a black suit and blue vest, and Bridie could see the chain of a pocket watch. He was smiling and happy. Anna held on to
his arm. He pressed her hand, as if he were afraid of losing her in a crowd.

Our wedding was small but beautiful. Just a few friends and family and Reverend Twisp, of course. But my roommates covered the altar with roses, and my dress was beautiful. Father came and didn’t make too much of a fuss, though it was clear he wasn’t happy about any of it. Least of all Alasdair’s taking his only child to America. I put it out of my mind. We will stay tonight in London. We leave tomorrow for Boston, where Alasdair will finish his schooling at the university there. After that he said he might take a teaching position. But who knows what the future holds? Joy. That much I know as I see him here beside me.

Bridie sighed. Samantha reached across her and turned the page.

Boston is big and bustling and frightening. Our room is dingy and in a bad part of town. Alasdair promised that we could look through the apartment listings tonight when he is finished with his evening class. I hate that he must leave me alone here at night. He said if I lock the door and bolt it, I’ll be safe. I did, but I’m still afraid. It’s hot, but I’m too frightened to open the windows.

I had another bad spell yesterday.

“Anna,” he said, “you must learn to fight. You mustn’t lie down and let your moods run you over.”

“You’re right,” I agreed. “Please pray for me. It’s so hard when it’s upon me.”

He put his hands on my shoulders and prayed. “These shoulders are so tired. Give her strength, Lord.” I wept, but afterward I felt much better. He put on water and made me a cup of tea. He had to leave then, but just the memory of him makes me feel stronger. I know it’s fanciful, but it’s as if his strength pours into me.

I remembered his advice and read my Bible and prayed. I did feel a little better. This will make me stronger.

Bridie glanced at Samantha to gauge her reaction. Her little face looked sad. Bridie tried to think of something to say.

No,
that little voice said again.
It’s the truth. Tell it.

We have found our apartment, and I feel joyful today.

Good. Bridie felt the tension in her shoulders ease, and Samantha’s face had relaxed a little. The next few pages had paint chips and little pieces of material glued to the pages. Anna had filled more pages with sketches of her decorating ideas—slipcovers she was making, furniture she was painting, arrangements of plants and pictures and rugs. There were pictures of the apartment, room by room, and it was beautiful. Anna had a flair for decorating. It was done in white and light green and pink, and there were lots of baskets and green plants, wicker and chintz, and scrubbed white tables. The paintings looked like oils in soft, muted pastels. Everything roses.

Donkey lamp,
Anna had written, with an arrow toward the table. Samantha smiled.

I’ve discovered the American equivalent of the jumble sale. They call them flea markets. Why, I have no idea, since there is no such thing as a flea about. At any rate, I went last week and will go again, as my treasures are almost too numerous to mention. I found a beautiful rug, only slightly threadbare, a wrought-iron chandelier that will look quite spectacular painted white with small pink candles. Chintz pillows, an entire set of china in quite good condition, and find of finds—another pink chenille bedspread that will look quite lovely covering the old brown davenport. It’s ordained I should have it. Alasdair says he shall have to take another job to pay for it all, but I think he is pleased. He seemed even more delighted when I told him that wouldn’t be necessary. That I’ve decided to take a job.

“What about continuing your schooling?” he asked.

“I’m going to look into that next,” I announced and could fairly feel the happiness radiating from him. We had a wonderful night. The best we’ve had in ages.

Samantha rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Keep reading,” she said. The next entry was dated a week later.

Alasdair hurt me today. For the first time I felt that sharp prick of emptiness. I went to him for prayer when he was studying. I think it was all the more hurtful that he was so calm. If he’d been angry, I could have chalked it up to words spoken in haste, but really, he was cool and collected. “I’m just a man, Anna. Not a priest,” he said. “Go to God yourself. There’s no need to have me pray for you. No more magic than you praying for me.”

I tried to explain to him how God uses him to center me and give me peace. Isn’t that a husband’s job? “Isn’t that what two being one means?” I asked.

“No,” he answered back. “I’m not sure what it means, but I don’t think it’s that. The arithmetic of it isn’t half a person and half a person equaling a whole, but whole and whole coming together to create something new entirely.” I said I thought he was talking rubbish and I began to cry. He stared at me quite peculiarly, as if I was some frightening mutation of a person. I left the room.

He came to me after a while. He was very gentle and tender and said he was sorry he’d upset me. He looked so sad, and I felt my own spirits sink even further, as if they were tied to his and both to a stone cast into the lake. He left after that to go to the library to prepare for class. He usually prepares here. I have driven him away.

Alasdair returned late and brought me a university catalog. He said I should take some literature and writing classes at the university here. Even though the quarter has begun, I could enter late and audit. I said perhaps, but I know he’s just trying to find ways to keep me busy. Occupied, so he’ll be free to pursue his own affairs. His family is coming to meet me next week, and I’m afraid they won’t like me.

“Uh-oh,” Samantha said. Bridie began reading the next entry without comment.

The sun is pouring through the windows of our apartment this morning. It is a beautiful day with a hint of autumn in the air, and I’m cheered immensely. And I’ve identified my trouble. Who wouldn’t be depressed, thousands of miles from home, alone in a new country? I feel much better now. I even made a cake for Alasdair’s family.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Bridie said, agreeing with Samantha. A glance at the next lines confirmed it.

The visit from his family was horrible. His one sister Winifred is beastly, and I’m afraid to say his mother is just like her.

“You’ll have to come to Alexandria for a proper ceremony and reception,” she said. I said nothing, just smiled, but wanted to say that I was properly married and what more was there to it? I was a little vexed that Alasdair didn’t say more. He just watched, and sometimes I thought he was amused.

His father was brusque and preoccupied, always dragging Alasdair off for whispered consultations, of which I overheard only a word or two—elders and budgets and meetings. Church things. Only one member of the family was kind to me—Alasdair’s sister Lorna. I can tell she knows what it’s like to be the underdog.

My new mother-in-law offered to take me shopping and help me decorate the apartment. “It is decorated,” I answered, and there was a deadly silence before Fiona began chattering. It was horrible the entire day. After they’d taken us to dinner, I served the cake, and it wasn’t done in the middle. They all sat there, spooning soupy bites of chocolate into their mouths. Oh, I wanted to die. Lorna tried to help, saying she’d heard pudding cakes were quite popular and wasn’t I clever to make one, but it didn’t fool anyone. In fact, Winifred argued with her. “This is no pudding cake,” she said. Then Fiona began asking me about what classes I would be taking, but she set her cake aside without touching it. Winifred wouldn’t let it alone. “I know pudding when I taste it,” she said, “and this isn’t pudding.” Then Mother MacPherson said, “Winifred, that’s quite enough. Regardless of Anna’s problems with the cake, your behavior is quite inexcusable.” And the most unbelievable part of the entire day was that when I repeated the conversation to Alasdair, he laughed!! “That’s each of them in a nutshell,” he said. “They each just gave you a little character sketch of themselves.”

I tried to explain to him how I had felt—stupid and worthless. I hoped he would hold me and tell me that I wasn’t any of those things—at least not to him. But all he did was say they were the ones who had the problem, and I should try to take them all with a grain of salt, or I would go mad, and then he left to do some work on campus.

“Read Psalm 146,” he said in parting. I am furious at his high-handed ways and even more furious that I did as he asked.

“Do not put your trust in princes, in mortal men, who cannot save. When their spirit departs, they return to the ground; on that very day their plans come to nothing. Blessed is he whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the Lord his God, the Maker of heaven and earth, the sea, and everything in them—the Lord, who remains faithful forever.”

I don’t know whether to be angry or grieved. I am going to bed.

Bridie stopped and looked at Samantha.

“Keep going,” Samantha said, sounding irritated.

Bridie read on.

I have decided to take life by the horns. I have signed up for my classes, gotten myself a job. At a retirement home. I will lead them in activities—crafts and such—three times a week in the afternoon. And my first time there, while knotting beads, I made a friend. Her name is Elizabeth Bacon, and she is quite an interesting person. A former jeweler, and I was quite embarrassed at my clumsy craft project.

“Stringing beads must be child’s play to you,” I apologized.

“Not at all,” she said. “It gives me something to do.”

We chatted quite a bit. She admired my wedding ring and said the diamond was first-rate. She is forthright and cheerful. Just the kind of friend I need.

There were a lot of entries after this about Boston. Things Anna was doing. It seemed in the next weeks she had succeeded in crafting a life for herself. She attended her classes, even made a friend in the apartment building, or at least an acquaintance who enjoyed going with her to the flea markets and secondhand stores. There were more poignant entries, almost desperate sounding, of the depth of her love for Alasdair.

“TMI,” Samantha said, waving her hand. “Skip those.” Bridie flipped quickly through, not sure if she was motivated by respect for Anna’s privacy or something else.

Alasdair is quite cheered by my new approach to life and apologized if he had seemed to thrust me away. I told him that I don’t believe he realizes what a healing effect he has on me, on everyone. I believe the Lord uses people to meet our needs. One day I’ll try to explain it to him better. I must go and do my assignments. I am behind in my literature class and have a paper due tomorrow for creative writing that I can’t face. I don’t feel exceptionally well.

Bridie closed the book.

“I hate that.”

“What? What’s the matter with you?” Bridie asked.

“I just hate the way she quits right in the middle of things.”

“Patience. We’ll get back to her tomorrow. And after that we’d better get busy on Christmas things.”

Bridie said good night, kissed Samantha on the forehead, and turned out her light. The house was quiet. A light burned under the door of Alasdair’s study, but the door was closed. What would he say if he knew what they were doing just on the other side of that wall? She let herself out and stepped into the cold night, locking the door behind her to keep them safe.

Twenty-Four

Bob Henry threw down the last of Knox Presbyterian’s spreadsheets in disgust. It would be Christmas in a few days, and here he was. Still grinding away and getting nowhere. His girlfriend had gone to the Bahamas. Without him. And here he sat in his windowless office still looking through balance sheets. Perfectly legitimate balance sheets.

Nothing was missing from petty cash. There were no slush funds. Nothing unaccounted for. He’d been looking over this mess for weeks now. Had even brought in one of his accounting buddies to take a closer look. Nada. Zilch. And he was running out of time. Gerry had been asking for his input for weeks, wanting to get back to the Knox elders. Just yesterday he’d brought it up again.

“Edgar Willis called again, Bob. I must have your report soon.”

“There are just a few more facts I need to document, sir,” Bob had hedged. But he couldn’t hold things off much longer, and not just because of Gerry’s impatience. Bob’s own timeline was tight. The General Assembly Council members had to make their recommendation for president four months before the annual meeting. That meant decisions were being made right now. If Bob was going to pull something out of the hat to make the Knox elders swoon with delight, now was the time. He sighed, rubbed his stiff neck, and went back to the paperwork spread all over his desk.