Chapter 15: Issues

Jerry Patterson had been dreading this. He served the Lord first and the parishioners second. He had careful to not ask about individual pledges so that they wouldn’t tempt him to serve one parishioner better than another. Then he’d heard at the Finance-Committee meeting in his first January of this appointment that they had sent in half their annual apportionment that month since a single donor had given that much in December expecting it to be sent to the Conference in January.

“Okay,” he’d asked Shig Tamura, the Financial Secretary, “Who is the guy who gives half our apportionments, and what does he have against me?” Half the apportionments was more than most giving units gave in total. Somebody who gave that much and made it a point that it didn’t apply to the local church budget had an axe to grind, and you would think that he’d make that grievance known.

“What makes you think that he has something against you?” Shig asked.

“Well, he must have a reason for giving to the Conference but not to the local church.”

“Eric has the largest pledge of anyone to the operating budget. Gives towards the beginning of the month, too. Eric Barnes, know him? Regular at worship, not on any committee, wears bespoke suits but without coordinating with the shirts or ties.” Shig was a manager on the men’s-wear side of a department store. He always remembered how men dressed.

“Doesn’t strike a bell.”

“Daughter named Valerie. Blonde in the kindergarten class.”

“Okay. I know Valerie, and I can picture Barnes now. They come to communion together, and he wears a wedding ring.” That’s something that’s easier to see at communion than the fit of the guy’s suit. “Don’t think I’ve seen his wife, though.”

“That’s because Laura’s dead. Tragedy. Eric was driving, and he blames himself. They were a great couple, not what you’d call struggling, but not rich, either. Then Eric took his firm public. He came to church in a bespoke suit, and I complimented him on it. Laura came up and agreed that he looked fine. Eric was much happier with her pride than he was with my compliment. He wore a different new tailored suit the next four weeks. Clearly, Laura had talked him into buying five at one time. Those days, he wore all the accouterments that go with such a suit. Within the year, they’d built a house out toward Mill Valley -- a real mansion. We learned that his company had gone public, and he’d got millions out of it. By then, Laura was visibly pregnant. She was proud of his suits, and he was proud of her pregnancy.

“Laura contributed luxurious dishes to the potlucks,” Shig continued. “There would be somebody’s tuna casserole, somebody else’s spaghetti and her housekeeper’s beef Stroganoff. Always a new dish, always good, always plenty. I can remember her bringing pairs of pies. She entertained the mothers of young kids in the congregation, too. All this ended when Laura died.”

“I’m surprised that they didn’t look for a congregation with a higher socio-economic status. We’re not the dregs, but we don’t have other dot-com millionaires.”

“Well,” Shig had said, “Neither of them seemed to be looking. Laura felt that the young mothers were the people she wanted to associate with, and Eric rather felt that he was a programmer who had been struck by lightning. He didn’t much like executives. I’ve heard him tell a manager who had criticism for welfare mothers that he ran a company and raised a kid by himself; anyone who thought running the company was harder had his head up his ass -- and I’m quoting.”

“Anyway,” Shig had concluded. “Laura died in the car crash. Eric blamed himself. He still wears the ring. He comes to church service and sends Val to Sunday school, but he doesn’t participate otherwise. The first every-member canvass after I took over as financial secretary, I assigned Eric to myself. He told me that he gave ten percent to Methodist concerns, but he wasn’t going to give any more to the congregation because he didn’t want the local church dependent on his support. He did pay a quarter of the cost of the education wing. That was one check, the January after he made his pledge. The education wing, though, is Valerie. He’d do anything for Valerie.”

Now, Eric Barnes had called him. Whatever he asked for, if it were the least out of the ordinary, would look like the biggest donor to the church got special treatment. On the other hand, Jerry Patterson tried to help members of his congregation if it was at all possible. He took a deep breath. He called, got a secretary, and was put right through.

“Rev. Patterson, I’d like a favor,” Barnes began. That sounded like trouble, right there.

“Anything I can do.”

“I’m engaged to be married. My fiancée, Dr. Diane Thibault, and I would like you to perform the service. I’ve told her that this requires counseling first, and she’s agreeable. The problem is that she is a hospital resident, if you know what that means. She has no days free in the next two months, and only half her evenings. We’d like the wedding to be March fifteenth.”

“Let me see,” he said. When he looked at the calendar, he saw that the day was a Thursday. “Are you sure? It’s a Thursday.”

“That’s what the problem is. You see, she has this schedule. She has to be in the hospital from six in the morning to six in the evening. That’s in the hospital, that is to say she has to be on a particular floor talking to patients, nurses, and other doctors for that time. She has to be in the hospital on call every other night. Then she gets two days, two particular days, off every two months. We could get more guests if the wedding were that Saturday. Unfortunately, we wouldn’t have a bride.”

“Do you want it in the evening?”

“Well, we’re giving you lots of warning,” Barnes said. “I told her that you would require counseling, and she is favorable to that. When we come in for counseling, the two of you could discuss that.”

“That’s another point. We now require three counseling sessions before the marriage.”

“Three? Laura and I only had one. You say, ‘we’ require that. Does this mean that any UM pastor I approached would say the same thing?”

“No,” he said. “But it’s not an unusual number. Some pastors ask for more. You really want to talk about things before you make a life-long commitment.”

“Well, I’ll get back to you on that. I’m not saying no, but I told Diane that there would be one. She agreed to one. I’m not going to use that agreement to say that she suddenly has to go to three sessions.”

“You certainly don’t want to enter a marriage forcing a decision on your partner.”

“Especially not this partner.” Barnes said. “I’ll get back to you either way.” Well, at least Barnes wasn’t asking him to bend the rules.

Diane had deliberately left Eric stewing in his juices between the phone calls telling him that he could propose and the one in which he was allowed to make the proposal. She didn’t want to repeat that. Eric wanted all sorts of things from her, some of which she had to deny. Denying him something she wanted herself was sheer sadism. She called him when she got to her room.

“I’ve got to go elsewhere,” Eric answered the phone.

“Well,” she said, “while you’re walking, listen. I love you. I’ve been showing my ring all day, and all the nurses are impressed. I love you, and we’ll be together tomorrow at this time. I figure I’ll take my car, and leave it at the apartment house.”

“I love you, too. I hit a speed bump, though. I was wrong, or -- rather -- out of date. The UMC no longer requires one counseling session. Most UMC ministers now require three. We’re back at square one.”

“Well, let me think about that,” she said. “What’s ‘UMC’?”

“United Methodist Church. Anyway, I’d be glad to meet you at your apartment, Beloved. What do you think of that term of endearment? I suddenly pictured myself with you and Sparky. I said ‘darling,’ and you both answered.”

“I don’t mind being called what you call Valerie. I know what you think of her. On the other hand, she requires your guidance, and I really don’t.”

“Well, when she’s stubborn, I give her her bath,” Eric said. “I might like to give you a bath.”

“Well, let me think about that. After July first, I think. That’s one problem with your fancy house. Where do you share showers?”

“Mine. The head is detachable, and you’d be surprised what it can do in the right location and pointing up.”

“Well, we’ll have to explore those possibilities in July,” she said. “I plan to sleep more than twenty-four hours on my first day off, but we might spend my second in the shower stall.”

“Oh, I don’t know. You need your rest. We might just spend that one in bed, too.”

“Well, I’m in bed right now, but I’m not getting any rest.” Not that he sounded like he intended for her to get any when she had days off again. “Love you, sleep tight.” She shut her phone. Her thoughts didn’t keep her up that night, but the nurses did. It wasn’t their fault, either. All three of the calls were really necessary. The day was busy enough, but she had time to think about what Eric had told her.

She got her car at the end of the day. When she got to the apartment house and drove into the parking lot, Eric drove in behind her. She directed him to the space reserved for a roommate who worked late. He went up with her and brought down what she needed. She was moving all her hospital-white outfits, all her underwear, and her laptop.

“Look,” Eric said in the car, “I’ve given you a set-up on a machine in the computer room. I know what you said about knowing your password, but this is unavoidable. Your password is ‘Diane,’ and you should change it immediately.”

“Fine. I don’t mind your setting me up and giving me a password to change. I just don’t want us living in each other’s laps.”

“Except at night.”

“Some people,” she said. “I’m not mentioning any names, but some people have dirty minds. Anyway, you tell me that your denomination requires three sessions of counseling before getting married?”

“Yeah. We don’t have to do that.”

“You’re a loyal member of that group. They say that the normal couple requires three sessions of counseling. We have more problems than the average couple. You suddenly think that we don’t need all that counseling. Look, you claim to respect expert opinion. These guys are telling you something. They aren’t my guys; they’re your guys. Anyway, that was the pastor you chose to perform the ceremony. You might listen to him.”

“You want to do it?” Eric asked.

“The light dawns.”

“Then we’ll do it. I’ll set up the first session, and he’ll bring his schedule. You and he can set up the other sessions there.”

The first thing that Valerie told her was that she had taken a shower all by herself the previous night. She told Valerie how proud she was of her. Dinner was a chickpea dish from the healthy-recipe cook book she had given Mrs. Grant. It didn’t quite work, though only Valerie complained and she often complained about the food.

“Let’s not leave just yet,” Eric said at the end of the meal. He got up and put a hand on her chair. She got up at that hint. He put a finger under her chin, and she looked up for the kiss. It was a good kiss, though his hands stayed at her waist and his tongue merely touched hers. “That, Sparky, is something engaged couples do -- something two people do when they are engaged to each other. You’ll probably see me kiss Dr. Thibault a lot.”

“You kiss me,” Valerie said.

“I kiss you,” Eric said, “and I kiss her. You drink water, and you drink milk, and you drink Kool Aid. If you drink something, it doesn’t mean that it’s water. If I kiss, it doesn’t mean we’re engaged.”

“Okay.” Valerie clearly wanted to go play. She’d seen enough. “Doctor, can you come up and watch My Little Pony?”

“Dr. Thibault has to set her computer up, Sparky,” Eric answered for her. “We’ll be up at bedtime.” She went with him to the computer room. Everything he was, from good to bad, had been displayed in that scene after dinner. Well, when they got to the computer room, she started on the good.

“Sometimes, Eric, sometimes, you are great with Valerie,” she said. “You say, ‘Look at us kissing,’ she says, ‘I’d rather be watching my video,’ and ever after when she sees us kissing she’s not seeing anything interesting.”

“That’s what I figured.”

“On the other hand, what gives you the right to decide that I’m going to set up my computer right now? Damn it to hell, you even allow Valerie to decide what she’s going to do for the few minutes after dinner. Why don’t I have the same freedom as a six year old?”

“Well, in the first place,” he said, “I wasn’t denying you any freedom except the freedom to watch My Little Pony. You’re going to be living in this house for years. You’re going to be trapped into that so damned often you’ll be sick unless you go negative on Sparky as hard as you go negative on me. I was getting you out of an experience which I find ranking right down with root canals. You want to do something else, now that Sparky is in her room, fine. As a matter of fact, I had planned to see if we could have another kiss, maybe less G-rated, without our audience.

“In the second place, you stopped on the way here to pick up a laptop,” Eric didn’t raise his voice, but he almost spat out each word. She had never before heard him this angry. “How incredibly invasive of me to assume that you wanted to use it for a computer and nor for a paperweight! How demanding to say that you’d set it up now instead of at midnight -- when the alarm rings at half past fricken four o’clock. You have a desktop set up right here. There are plenty of carrels empty if you want to set up your laptop in another one. I’ll be in the gym when and if you ever want to speak to me again.”

“No!” she said. “If we’re going to be married, we’re going to have fights. Fine! But I’m not going to tiptoe around your sulks. As you so kindly point out, I get up at four thirty. I’m not going to wait to continue this when Valerie is asleep. You’re mad at me? It’s about time you were mad at me. You have to respect my limits, but it’s cheating to hide your limits until I say ‘I do.’”

He laughed. It wasn’t a pretty laugh. “I’ll sleep in another room tonight.”

“In the first place, it’s your bed. If we sleep in separate beds, you sleep in that one.” She had a sudden thought. “The others have alarms don’t they?”

This time his laugh was less bitter. “They all have alarms. Even Sparky’s bed has an alarm, though so far Madeleine wakes her. But, dear reizende Diane, they are all my beds. You could argue that I have no right to the bed Madeleine sleeps in because that room is part of her compensation package. But the empty beds are all mine, and not yours until we’re married. And, when we’re married, the tradition is that the woman stays in bed and the man sleeps on the couch. It presumably reduces the punishment to sleep on a comfortable bed, but that’s the way the house is set up.”

“Can’t we fight over only one thing?” she asked. “I’m getting dizzy.”

“Welcome to marriage. We haven’t had the ceremony, but that didn’t stop me and Laura, either. When you’re married, you get all your fights at once, even when you don’t have an alarm that goes off at four thirty.”

“No!” she decided. “We may have all our fights now, but we’re going to have them one at a time. What was that you called me? Wry something.”

“Reizende. It’s a German word which means charming, and it means annoying. When I was in high school, I thought that it was weird that the same word would mean both. Then I grew up and met women who were both.”

“And that computer you ‘set me up on.’ It looks new to me. When did you buy it?”

“It was delivered yesterday,” he said. “Look, I know what you’re going to say. But I buy the computers for this house. I even buy Madeleine’s computer, however much else she buys for me. You don’t make a fuss over eating the food Madeleine buys. The computer is part of the furniture of the house. It’s a damn-sight cheaper than the second bed you wanted to sleep in.” She could believe it. Those headboards had to have almost as much electronics as the computer, and they weren’t sold by the millions.

“Well, beds are different from computers.”

“How? When you were growing up, your parents provided beds for their guests, but not computers? Well, they provided phone service, too. There are three handsets in this house, and one is in here. I don’t know whether Madeleine uses the land line. I doubt if Sparky knows how. I haven’t used it at home in years. I only use my landline in the office when I’m calling internally or when I want someone to call back on that line. Well, in the twenty-first century, in the Barnes house, you provide your own phone, but the computer is part of the furniture. Look, we agreed to have an equal marriage, and when you’re the lady of the house you can change the rules. Even then, you have to consult me beforehand. It’s not fair to blast me for not having changed the rules.”

He had a point. Sure, the man assumed his opinions came down from Mount Sinai, but she was moving into the house which was following his rules. Those rules were in place. They needed to have a marriage where she had equal voice in the rules, but that meant that they would discuss what rules to change, not that he should consult her before saying what nights Valerie needed to take a bath.

“When we’re married, I’m going to have equal parenting rights and responsibilities?” she asked.

“Sure. And, of course, you’re the expert.” Well, her expertise was real, but it was much different from what he thought. “And, too, Madeleine executes. She needs to have input.” She didn’t like the word, ‘executes,’ but he was talking about doing things, not about killing.

“Okay, and until we discuss it, the rules you have instituted stay in force, with reasonable rights to make exceptions.” She had just articulated a great rule, and she realized that she hadn’t been following it. “I’m sorry.”

“No reason to be sorry. I could abolish any of your reforms while I am the sole parent. I just saw that you were right. After this, we’ll talk. Then, too, you need to have a list of what I see as Sparky’s rules. Before you can reasonably suggest changes, you have to -- at least -- know what are rules and what are habits. I’ll ask Madeleine to make up her own list. That way, you’ll see what she sees that I’ve taken for granted. I’m sorry for barking at you. We’ve both said we’re sorry, is the fight over?”

“Yeah, I guess. Besides, I don’t want to sleep in a different bed from you. I only get so much time for sex, and we missed night-before-last.”

“I love you,” he said.

“And I love you. It’s love, however much lust comes to the fore occasionally.”

“Look, do you want me to show you this computer? When you’re about to change your password, I’ll go to the gym. I can take you to that point.”

“I really know my way around computers a little,” she said. “You’re the expert, but I know a little.”

“Yeah. Well, I’ll be in the gym. One of us will come for the other when it’s Sparky’s bedtime.” She set her laptop up on one of the unused desks. She had things to do on-line, and her laptop had served her for years. She trusted Eric to not spy, but she needed to live in her own space sometimes. Eric came into the room shortly before Sparky’s bedtime and saw where she was working.

He waited while she closed down and stood up. They had kiss. Without the audience, his hands went to her glutes and stayed there clutching her hard. His tongue explored her whole mouth. When they broke, they headed towards the stairs and their child hand in hand.

When they went in the door, Sparky was waiting in the door of her bathroom. Eric carried her the few feet to her bed. That was one ritual she wasn’t about to challenge any more than she was going to point out that she didn’t need Eric to help her into her seat at table or open his car door for her.

“Good night, Valerie,” she said after her kiss. She’d rather Eric read the story tonight, and she didn’t want to mention the choice.

But Valerie was thinking of something else. “Call me Sparky,” she said. After Diane looked at her in surprise, she added “Please!”

“I told her once,” said Eric, “that people should be called by the names they chose. She isn’t good about following that rule, but she sure is insistent on enforcing it.” She had asked, way back, and Valerie had chosen that name. Or had she given her a choice that didn’t include ‘Sparky’?

“Well,” she asked. “Do you think that your daddy’s rule is a good one?”

“Yes.”

“Will you follow it yourself?”

“Yes,” said Valerie-Sparky.

“I’m going to marry your daddy. Do you remember that?” Sparky nodded. “When I do, not now but when I do, will you call me what I want to be called?”

“You don’t want to be called ‘Doctor’?”

“I want you to call me ‘Doctor’ now,” Diane told her. “When I marry your daddy, I want you to call me ‘Mommy.’ Do you think you can?”

“Will you be a real mommy to me?” That was a great question. What was a real mommy from Sparky’s perspective? She sure wasn’t going to carry her in her uterus the way real mommies do.

“Well, dear, I’ll do what I think is right for a mommy. That won’t always be what you think is right for a mommy to do. Look at your daddy, a real daddy. Sometimes he does what you want, and sometimes he does what you don’t want him to do because he thinks that is what a daddy should do.” Did Sparky get spanked? She’d never seen it.

“But Daddy kisses me good night even when I’m a bad girl,” Sparky said. At six, she might not know the words, ‘unconditional love,’ but she knew what it meant. She had, obviously, experienced it.

“And you want me to do the same. Well, it depends. You know I’m not here every night. Half the nights, I’m going to be at the hospital. When I’m there, I can’t kiss you good night no matter how good a girl you have been. You know I’m at the hospital, because you met me there. But, on the nights I can, I will kiss you good night. When your daddy and I are out late and you go to sleep first, I’ll come in with him, and we’ll both kiss you while you are sleeping. Now...” She leaned down and kissed her again. “Good night, Sparky.”

Eric found Diane lying in bed when he came in. “You’re marvelous with her,” he said. “Brains, and that body too.” She moved the sheet back so he could see all her body. “You’re sweet to me, too.” He took off his glasses after his robe and before he got into bed.

Then, she was even sweeter to him, and he tried to be sweet to her. Before she went over, she wanted him in her. She writhed under him and around him, and -- right after she went over -- he erupted within her. She cuddled sweetly in his arms and slept in seconds.

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” he whispered too softly to wake her. He hit the light and hugged her in the darkness.

The alarm wasn’t sweet, but it never was. They parted, and didn’t see each other until breakfast. She kissed the top of his head and settled down to her French toast and sausage.

“It’s turkey sausage, Doctor, not pork,” Madeleine said. “I thought that it tasted fine. The dinner last night didn’t, but I think I could cook it right. Would a week from tonight be all right?”

“A week? Oh, eight days after last night,” Diane said. “That would be fine, Mrs. Grant.” When he tried to get her into the position of woman of the house, he had to walk on eggshells. Madeleine could do it without warning.

“And there is another name which will have to change when you’re married,” Madeleine said. “I really appreciate your using my name. My employers, though, should call me Madeleine. Any time between now and the wedding is fine. The mister decided you were head of the house long ago.”

“Fine, but not before my second cup of coffee.”

“And there is another name you’ll have to think about,” he said. “No hurry.”

“Yours?”

“You don’t have to think about that. ‘Lord and Master’ will come automatically.” She gave him the look that meant that she didn’t think his joke was funny, not the look she would have given him if she’d thought he was serious. Look? She’d have broken the pot of boiling coffee over his head. “Your name is the one in question. You could continue to be Diane Thibault everywhere. You could be Diane Barnes everywhere. You could also be Dr. Thibault at work and Mrs. Barnes at home. You want to keep those worlds separate, after all. I’m not trying to restrict you. These are all I could see.” It would be nice to have her as Mrs. Barnes, but she so desperately wanted another life.

“I’m thinking,” Diane said. And that was the last anyone said until they were in the car and half way to the hospital.

“Is there a different way to pronounce ‘Barnes’?” she asked then.

“I don’t think so.”

“I think I’d like to be Diane Barnes.”

“Darling!” he said. Then, “Beloved.” She laughed, and he joined in. When they got to the hospital staff door, he got out and opened her door. They had a long kiss before she went in.

He went to work and got a lot accomplished. He called Rev. Patterson during the church’s office hours.

“Reverend Patterson, this is Eric Barnes. Diane is favorable to the counseling idea. Now, my idea is that you and I schedule one appointment on what I know is her free time. Then, with the two of you together, you can compare schedules. Since we’re aiming for March, the scheduling isn’t tight. On the other hand, she has so few free days that we don’t want to put it off.”

“I couldn’t bend my schedule much. Those are mostly regularly-scheduled church meetings.”

“I’m not asking for you to bend your schedule at all. It’s just that she can’t bend her schedule, either. Then, too, I know why you need Saturday and Sunday nights free. One of those nights will be one of her free nights, depending on the week. Also, since she’s limited, we, she and I, are limited. If you ever want us to discuss things between us before we talk to you, then we’d take longer.

“Look,” he continued, “you say that it’s three sessions, do you have a set agenda?” Rev. Patterson rolled one off. “Well, it looks like money would be the easiest. Why don’t we start with that?”

“That hasn’t been my experience.”

“It wasn’t my experience either. It’s my present situation. Really, people think that money causes problems, but it’s lack of money which causes problems. Anyway, Diane is free tomorrow night, Thursday night, then Saturday when I know you’re not, and so on. I try to avoid Wednesdays myself, since Madeleine, my housekeeper, has church then. Her church is my usual source for more help, and that doesn’t work for Wednesday night or Sunday morning. I’m nattering.”

“Not at all,” Rev. Patterson said, which showed that even clergy tell white lies. “Well, this Thursday is Finance Committee. I’m free Tuesday if you are. Would seven be possible? Would seven thirty be better?”

“Let’s call it seven thirty. I’ll call and leave a message if it doesn’t work, but I’m sure it will. I don’t even talk to Diane between six and six.”

“Is this going to extend into your marriage?”

“Not very far,” he said. “Her residency is over July first. Hell! If someone were going to be deployed to Afghanistan for six months starting the day after the ceremony, you wouldn’t refuse to perform the marriage would you?”

“Good point.” And they hung up. He waited until 6:30 to call Diane.

“I know I’m not supposed to call you normally, but I set up an appointment with Reverend Patterson for seven thirty tomorrow. I said I’d call if that didn’t suit you.”

“That’s fine. When you decide, you really dig in, don’t you?”

“Well, it’s the first time both of you are available before a week from today. If it’s a necessary business call, am I allowed to say that I love you?”

“I love you, too.” But she clicked off after that. At dinner he told Sparky and Madeleine that he had business the next day.

“But you and Mommy will kiss me good night later?” asked Sparky.

“Sure.”

Eric expected, when they had experience with the next counseling session, they would probably have serious discussions before the other sessions. When he and Laura had gone for counseling, the pastor had made it clear that he expected them to come in with their marriage planned out. Then the pastor would unearth the places where they hadn’t agreed. Finances, the subject for this session, looked like a no-brainer. If he had accomplished one thing in is life, it was to gain the income that would support whatever he wanted to do. Now it would also support anything Diane wanted to do. Other constraints would limit them, but money would not. They had a brief meal between his picking Diane up and their getting to the church.

Diane was happy enough that this wasn’t the usual feast Eric provided for her. She was quite nervous about this coming counseling session. She didn’t know quite the details of what Eric had in mind for finances, but she feared that he would want to provide everything. Millions of dollars would be nice, she was clear, but freedom would be nicer.