He hadn’t yet mentioned the drawer I’d left open, my intrusion intotheir privacy.
“Is she okay? The shots.” They were for infertility. I’d looked it up. “I
shouldn’t have snooped.”
“We’ve lost three babies,” he said softly into the damp air. “So we’re
trying something new. Her faith is steadfast.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said, and this time I meant it. Something of the old
sadness seeped back into his face. I reached for him, thinking I could
touch his former self, take us into the past and smooth the trouble away.
He pulled back as my fingers brushed his cheek.
“Do you want to be friends with me?” I asked.
“I can’t be anything with you. You know that. But I do care, Laura.
And I hope she saves you, too.”
He stepped around me to the stairs.
The kitchen was bright and warm. Pete stepped out to his wife and
clasped a hand over her shoulder. She kissed his cheek and then turned
to me. “The girls and I have missed you. I’d love to see more of you.
Won’t you join us this weekend?”
I couldn’t imagine what she wanted from me, but her expression was
so earnest, and her stature overwhelmed me. “Me, too,” I said. “I hope
to see you, too.”
At dinner, my mother sat across from Pete and I took the seat facing
Rosalind. For a moment, the four of us joined hands, closing our circle.
If anyone had looked in from the windows, we would have made a lovely
sight, nourished and full of light.
Salvation was the business of the savior, not a friend or father or spouse.I’d grown up sketching on loose paper during sermons, but even I knewthis. Yet if Pete was truly misled on this point, he could be excused thisfolly: Rosalind was transcendent. Worship made sense when she waslead singer. My favorite song was the one with the chorus based on apsalm, about pain in the night being followed by joy in the morning.Most people stuck with the music as written and descended the scale atthe end of the line, but Rosalind changed the melody so it ascended andopened up. Her voice rang through the sanctuary like daybreak.
I went to every Sunday Sisters meeting. Rosalind introduced me toher friend who worked as a school administrator, and soon I was oncall for substitute teaching. Occasionally, she invited me out to lunchor for lattes at Caribou, where she’d try to spring on me Bible 101, the