Marion Rowden was eighty-five years old, a widow, and one of the most faithful members of the church. She’d been attending as long as I’d served as pastor and likely thirty years before that.
Years ago, when I’d first started in ministry, Joe had mentioned that he’d been inspired and encouraged in his role as pastor to spend time with the older members of the congregation. He claimed he’d learned a lot from their own walks of faith. Joe’s advice had sounded solid at the time. It wasn’t until my recent visit with my friend and mentor that I remembered what he’d said. For the life of me I don’t know why I had never followed it.
Marion lived in an assisted-living complex. I arrived shortly before noon and I went up to her room to collect her. I knocked on her door and waited for her to answer. She didn’t move as quickly as she once had, but I was patient.
She came to the door dressed to the nines, complete with a hat and white gloves. “I see you’re on time.”
“Always,” I assured her. “I wouldn’t want to keep my date waiting.”
Her smile was warm enough to melt the Arctic icecap. I extended my elbow, and she tucked her hand there as I escorted her to the elevator.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Best restaurant in town,” I assured her. I wouldn’t dream of anything less. Well, what was in my budget, at any rate.
“Mickey D’s,” Marion teased.
I laughed. “Actually I was thinking of Denny’s. A bit more upscale than McDonald’s but within my price range.”
“I was hoping you’d say Denny’s,” Marion told me. “My husband and I used to dine there every Saturday night. God rest his soul. Miss him, I do, every single day. Nothing feels the same without him.”
Marion chatted as I drove to the closest Denny’s, and I listened as she told me about the love of her life, a man who I’d never met. From what I remembered, Anton had died in his mid-fifties, and she still grieved for him. I could identify.
Once inside, we were escorted to a table. I pulled out Marion’s chair and took my own seat. I studied the menu and was surprised to see Marion didn’t.
As if reading my mind, she said, “I always order the same thing. You take your time. I’m in no rush.”
When the server stepped to our table, I waited for Marion to speak first.
“I’ll have the bourbon bacon burger.” She grinned sheepishly and looked to me. “That’s about as close to drinking hard liquor as I’ll get. Anton would have loved that. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a menu item when he was alive.”
Although I’d had something else in mind to order, I asked for the same thing.
My time with Marion was a delight. We had an entertaining two-hour lunch. She did most of the talking, and I listened. She told me about a negative experience she’d had with a judgmental church when she was a young teen. I marveled that she hadn’t allowed it to taint her attitude toward church and other Christians and told her so.
“My dear Drew,” she said, looking me square in the eyes. “I never confused God with the church. We’re all human. We all make mistakes. The key is not allowing anyone to stand in the way of how we view our Lord.”
“How wise you are,” I whispered, determined to thank Joe for this suggestion once I returned home.
Following our lengthy lunch, I drove my date back to the assisted-living complex and walked her to her room. “I had a delightful time, Marion.”
“I did, too,” she assured me. “Next time we should invite Nancy to join us. She’s one of my best friends.”
“I’ll do that,” I promised, determined to continue dating Marion and the other widows. I was far more familiar with the older men in the congregation. This was my effort to correct that oversight.
Eager now to return home, I drove back to the parsonage. I’d barely said hello to Shay before I had to leave to collect Marion. I appreciated her willingness to stay with Mark and Sarah. My daughter had been giddy with delight when she learned Shay was coming. Mark didn’t show any emotion one way or the other, but I could tell he was pleased.
Shay insisted it wasn’t necessary that I pick her up; she was accustomed to getting around town on the bus and was coming from breakfast with Lilly, the woman who had served as her counselor. Apparently, the two remained in close contact. My hope was that she wouldn’t need to leave right away, as I was looking forward to spending time with her. My schedule and hers had made it hard to find time to see her. I’d stopped by The Corner Café a couple times, and that only served to frustrate both of us as she was busy and too distracted to carry on any kind of conversation.
The minute I walked in the front door, Sarah came running toward me, her face bright and full of excitement. “Daddy, Daddy, look at my hair.” She whirled around for me to see the French braid. “Shay did it.”
“Who else would have done it?” Mark asked sarcastically. “The Tooth Fairy?”
“Very funny,” Sarah shot back.
“You look lovely,” I told Sarah, “and your hair does, too. Where’s Shay?”
“I’m here,” she said, her voice flat and emotionless. She had her coat on and her purse strap was wrapped around her shoulder as she headed for the front door with determination.
“You’re leaving?”
“Yes.” The words were barely out of her mouth when she started to leave.
“I was hoping you’d be able to stay a few minutes longer.” Disappointment bled into my voice and I didn’t bother to hide it as I followed her outside, hoping to convince her to change her mind.
“I need to get home” was all she said.
Before I could say anything more, Shay was gone.
Stunned, I looked between my two children and wondered if something had happened. Whatever it was had upset Shay to the point that she could barely stand to be in the same room with me.
“Mark. Sarah. Can you tell me why Shay is upset?”
Sarah shook her head. “She was fine until you got home, Daddy.”
There had to be more to this than they were telling me. “Mark, do you have any idea?”
He scrunched up his face as if deep in thought. “We were eating lunch and talking and after that Shay got real quiet and sad.”
“Sad?” I repeated. “Did she get a phone call?”
Sarah shook her head. “She put her phone on silent.”
The only thing I could deduce was something one of the children had said. “What were you talking about when Shay got quiet?” I asked.
“Your date,” Sarah told me.
“My date?”
“Yes, I told Shay you were on a date.”
Groaning inwardly, I looked to Mark. “Watch your sister, I’ll be right back.”
Not caring that I’d removed my coat, I grabbed the front door and raced into the cold, running toward the bus stop, silently praying that Shay hadn’t already caught the bus.
I was relieved to see her standing, waiting. Slowing my steps, I approached her. “Shay, I believe there’s been a misunderstanding.”
A bus approached and she looked eager to board it.
“Please give me a chance to explain,” I pleaded. “Don’t get on that bus. We need to talk.”
Hands tucked in her pockets, she ignored me and stepped forward, as if the bus couldn’t open its doors fast enough to suit her.
“Please,” I tried again, a desperate feeling attacking the pit of my stomach. The thought of hurting her was unbearable.
To my surprise, she whirled around and confronted me. “I don’t believe there’s anything to say. You did nothing wrong, Drew. Sorry, I mean Pastor Douglas. If there’s anyone at fault here it’s me. I was the one who let reality get away from me. Really, why would I dare to think that someone like you would possibly be interested in me? How presumptuous of me. How ridiculous.”
“Shay, that’s not true.” My mouth felt dry and I realized how badly she was hurt. “I took Marion—”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said cutting me off.
“It does to me. You matter to me.” There, I’d said it, and I meant it even more than I realized.
“Sure, I matter. I make a damn good babysitter.” She looked up at the sky as if seeking something. “Honestly, I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“What? I don’t understand.”
“I don’t belong here.”
“What are you saying? Belong where?” I was confused, not understanding anything of what she said. She wasn’t making sense.
“Forget it. It’s nothing…I feel like an idiot. I don’t ever seem to learn.”
“I’d like to explain,” I said, afraid anything I said now was too late and wouldn’t help. She was hurt and angry and I didn’t know how to make it better. One thing was clear: Shay was in no mood to listen.
“Like I said, it isn’t necessary. Don’t worry, I get it. I’m an ex-con, a felon. It’s a wonder you even allow me around your children.”
As she spoke, several at the bus stop turned to stare at her. My instinct was to pull her into my arms and hold her, to protect her from prying eyes. I reached for her arm, which she jerked away. Her message was clear: She wanted nothing to do with me, and she certainly didn’t welcome my touch.
“I learned at Hope Center to stand up for myself,” she said tightly. “I am unwilling to give others the opportunity to use me. You used me, Pastor. I am nothing more to you than a convenient babysitter. I think the world of Mark and Sarah, but I am not going to give you the chance to hurt me. Not happening.”
“You couldn’t be more wrong. Shay, please, if you’d just listen.”
“No. There’s nothing you have to say that I want to hear.”
Another bus pulled up just then and Shay was the first one to board. I watched as she marched to the back and took a seat, staring straight ahead.
Defeat and frustration washed over me. There’d been only a few times in my life when I’d felt this uneasiness in my spirit, knowing I’d hurt another person. Everything she said was off-base. So wrong, and I didn’t know how to convince her otherwise.
I don’t know how long I stood in the cold. It was only when someone approaching the bus stop bumped into me that I realized I’d remained frozen in place. It felt like my entire body had iced over.
When I returned to the house, both Mark and Sarah were waiting for me.
“Did you talk to her, Daddy?” Sarah asked, wide-eyed.
“I tried.” I sank onto the sofa and plowed my fingers through my hair, not knowing how to fix this.
Sensing my distress, Mark sat down next to me and patted my knee. “Girls are hard to talk to. I know.”
Grinning, I nodded. “You’re wise for your age.”
“What did you do when you had trouble talking to Mom?” he asked. “That might help.”
The fact that I was getting advice about girls from a thirteen-year-old spoke volumes. Certainly, Katie and I had had our share of differences through the years. One trick that seemed to work when she was hurt or upset was to kiss her. I strongly suspected that wouldn’t work with Shay. She was liable to punch me if I tried.
Sleep didn’t come easy that night. I didn’t expect to see Shay at church the next morning, and I was right.
Knowing I was heavyhearted, Sarah stood at my side following the service after the church had emptied. As was her habit, Linda Kincaid was one of the last to leave. She approached me with a concerned look.
“You weren’t yourself this morning, Drew. Something troubling you?”
Before I could answer, Sarah popped up. “He had a fight with Shay.”
Linda’s eye shot to mine. “I don’t think I realized the two of you were involved.”
“It wasn’t a fight so much as a misunderstanding.” I’d unintentionally hurt Shay and it bothered me to the point that even my congregation noticed something was wrong.
Linda patted my shoulder sympathetically. “It’s probably for the best.”
Her comment stunned me. “Why is that?” I asked, ready to defend Shay and needing to bite my tongue to keep from doing so. Linda had no idea how far Shay had come, the inner strength the woman had shown in the last year. She wasn’t the same woman I’d met all those months ago, seeking warmth in the back of the church, defiant and ready to lash out at the world for the unfairness of life. She was stronger now, finding her way, and I admired her more than any woman I had met since Katie. Knowing I’d foolishly lost her because of a simple misunderstanding, a lack of communication on my part, didn’t sit right with me. I felt off-kilter and lost as to how to make this right.
“Why?” Linda repeated. “Drew, really, I know you like Shay. I do, too, but you can’t deny her past.”
“I like Shay,” Sarah piped up. “She did my hair.”
Right away I could tell that Linda disapproved of Shay having anything to do with the children. She didn’t need to say it. I saw it in her eyes.
“That’s not how I look at people, Linda,” I said, doing my best to keep the emotion out of my voice. “Shay has come a long way, and as Christians we should be the first to encourage and support her.”
As I knew she would, Linda took a moment to consider my words. “You’re right, Drew. I apologize.”
Sarah tugged at my sleeve. “Daddy, that’s what you need to do with Shay. You need to apologize. Tell her you’re sorry and that you’ll never date Mrs. Rowden again.”
I wrapped my hand around my daughter’s shoulder and wished with everything in me that Shay would listen to my apology.
Linda left and I closed the church. As we walked to the house, Sarah had another idea.
“Can we take Shay for Chinese food? She likes almond chicken, but let her use a fork and don’t mention chopsticks.”
“Maybe that will work.”
As we approached the house, Sarah looked up at me, frowning. “If Shay is mad at you, does that mean she’s mad at me, too?”
“No, pumpkin.”
“Will she braid my hair again?”
“I don’t know.” It wasn’t in my heart to tell my daughter it was doubtful.
Sadness settled over me and I didn’t know if I was willing to accept that Shay was out of our lives. The problem was, I didn’t know how to make things right with her.