Chapter 2

Q&A

A few days later, Jen got a second draft of the questions about David’s and her marriage in the mail. These were his and hers compiled. “I’ve put these in some sort of order,” he wrote on a cover letter, “and put our questions together when I thought they were the same. I’ve left a little space for you to write (or type) in your answers. If that’s not enough, use a separate numbered sheet of paper and put the number, circled, on the question sheet. We’re not aiming for concision, we’re aiming for (joint) conclusions. An expression with which I can agree isn’t any use unless I also agree with the idea behind the expression. -- I love you.” He’d signed it in the only handwriting.

She still couldn’t figure out “Furniture.”

She wrote out her answers. If he thought she was going to type, he had another think coming. But, she realized, she was being unfair to him. He had given her the option, an option he clearly preferred for himself. She didn’t need any extra sheets. For the children question, though, she took much of the space. “Let’s start with one and see how that goes. I’ve seen that kids are much more attractive in the abstract than in particular.” That wasn’t quite saying that she wanted to know how much of the parenting he was prepared to do. They had two very demanding careers; kids didn’t raise themselves.

Her suspicions of his delay on Wednesday night had grown. On the sex question, she wrote: “We need to agree that we’ll never use sex to manipulate the other. What we honestly want, when we honestly want it, subject to the demands of our jobs.” He had left a larger-than-usual blank; her answer wasn’t crowded at all.

Sunday, he brought her the pizza before church. When he was safely inside the parsonage, they kissed lightly. He seemed to sense that she wasn’t really in the mood -- wasn’t in the mode, maybe. She couldn’t be in fiancée mode right then; she had to be in preacher mode.

After dinner at the Detwilers’, she drove him back to the parsonage. Their demeanor was subdued until the door was closed on the world. Then, they shared a long kiss. She turned on a light downstairs but led him upstairs to her room in the late- afternoon dimness.

They had another kiss in her room. He started undressing her, and she reciprocated. They bumped into each other so much that they broke out in laughter. “Faster if we do ourselves,” she said. They separated and stripped themselves. She put her clothes on one chair; he put his on another.

She heard the locks on his briefcase snap open. Looking over, she saw him totally naked taking a box out of his briefcase. Then he snapped it shut. “Would it cause problems if I left these here?” he asked. Of course, they were the condoms.

“Good idea.”

He put the box on the nightstand and came over to her. He kissed her deeply, exploring her mouth with his tongue. Meanwhile, his hands explored her back and rump. They were rather chilly hands, too. But she didn’t mention that; she’d rather have cold hands on her than no hands on her. It wasn’t as if he had another pair he was keeping warm.

His body, in contrast, was nice and warm and pressed against hers. She could judge his anticipation from the firmness of his dick against her stomach. He could probably guess hers from the hardness of her nipples against his chest.

When he broke the kiss, he sucked on her ear lobe before licking his way down her neck. She knew where he was heading, and her nipples swelled more in anticipation.

He moved away so he could kiss all over her left breast. When he finally reached that nipple, his hand caressed her mound. This was grand, but she was starting to feel the pull of gravity. When he stopped sucking her nipple, she backed up and lay on the bed. “Join me,” she invited him.

He lay down beside her and started kissing her right breast and stroking the insides of her thighs. When he switched breasts, his hand reached her cleft. He held her whole mound, stroked the lips, rubbed them against each other. Then he stroked right over her clitoris while sucking on her left nipple. She felt her excitement spiral, but she wanted him inside.

“Now,” she said. It wasn’t quite now, however. He rolled away to put on the condom. Then he was over her and right at her cleft.

“Jennifer,” he said and pushed inside. Her lips were spread, she was filled. His groin was pressed into hers. She hugged him like that, and then smoothed her hands down his back to hold his butt. She didn’t want to interfere with his motions.

And delightful motions they were. He thrust against her, and she could feel his muscles flex as he pressed in and moved from side to side. He moved back until his prick was their only connection. Then he thrust in again.

As this went on, Jen’s feeling spiraled upwards. She gasped as she climaxed. David drove in and out through that climax but had his own soon after.

He moved aside and pulled the covers up around them. “Jen,” he said sleepily. He hugged her. “Jennifer.” Then he made neither sound nor motion. She was nearly asleep herself when his touch relaxed.

The phone was ringing. She couldn’t see a thing but the clock dial; when it was dark in Independence it was dark. She had grown up where outside darkness meant a power failure. The dial, however, said that it was nearly ten. “David, David!”

He tightened his hug. Then he shifted in the bed. “Ten o’clock. Damn!”

“I don’t want you to go either,” she said. But go he must.

“June. After June, I sleep in your arms every night.” She put on her underwear in the dark, and then opened the bedroom door. The light which came up the stairs was bright enough for David to find his clothes. She struggled into a blouse and a pair of jeans.

The two of them solemnly traded their answers. They had a nice kiss before she let him out. Two more trips up and one down the stairs allowed her to turn off the lights downstairs while turning on the lights in her room. She took his answer sheet to bed with her.

David’s answers were headed with a code chart. BL Bottom Line Question. SP Strong Preference P Preference. JD Jen Decides.

Well, so much for “My bottom line is satisfied when you said you’d marry me.” Still, when she looked through, the only issue marked ‘BL’ was her question about sex: “BL absolute faithfulness.” She could live with that.

On her question about sex, aside from his bottom-line issue of fidelity, he’d written a mini essay on a separate page, labeled D2. “Paul writes, as you know, about each spouse giving the other his/her due. Pretty generally, this is taken to mean that one is to engage in the intercourse one’s spouse needs/wants. I take it so, myself. Now, not as an interpretation of that, but as one way to fulfill that advice, here’s what I suggest: In any relationship at any particular time, there will be one who wants more and another who wants less. I suggest that we have intercourse to fully satisfy the one who wants less. After that, it will be the task of that person to satisfy the other. Manually, or through cunnilingus as seems appropriate at the time. Now this won’t solve every problem/conflict. What happens if I seriously want you at 10:30 on a Sunday morning? But I do offer it as a guideline.”

It was an interesting guideline in several ways. From reading it, you’d think the man was a theology professor or something. Then, too, he’d been so careful to use gender-neutral language almost everywhere, but he’d said “cunnilingus,” not “oral sex.” Did he not like fellatio? Was he afraid she didn’t? Did he assume that she would always be the person wanting more?

What had Churchill said about the Soviet Union? A mystery wrapped in an enigma, or something. That was David. But one thing wasn’t mysterious. The professor she’d first seen wasn’t a role he played or a job he performed. It was the man himself.

Some of the other answers were revealing. David wanted children (SP), thought they should wait until they had settled themselves as a couple first (P), wanted two or three (P), contraception was (JD). This got a further note. “I’ll use condoms if you want. Anything else -- save a vasectomy, which I would resist, see above, ‘any’ -- would have to affect your body. That should be your decision, subject to medical advice.”

Another essay, labeled D1 but not referred to any question, said: “Jen is the assigned pastor. She decides -- subject to the usual committees and The Discipline -- what goes on in the church. David has the same right to opinions as any other parishioner, but Jen decides. Similarly, David is the professor. Jen has the same right to opinions as any other alumna, but David decides -- subject to the seminary’s policies, of course.” Now, leaving aside the suggestion that she had any voice in how he ran his class as an alumna -- David had been quite clear that none of his current students had a voice -- this was David to a T. Generosity, lightly disguised as impartiality. He had opinions; indeed, he’d said he had opinions, but he was saying that he recognized that she decided. He was much more invested in that than she was; David had more training and more experience. She wanted to hear his opinions.

Under “Furniture,” he’d written. “(P) I’ll sleep with you in that bed of yours if you insist, but I really think we’ll need a double bed. Do you need that softness?” She’d assumed that they would get a double bed. She’d prefer more firmness, actually. Her mattress and springs had been left by a former tenant in a room she rented in Chicago. The Conference paid for moving; a new bed would have meant another purchase before she had her first paycheck from Independence.

His question of “Jen Blake or Jen Saunders?” was answered “P Jen Blake.” On the other hand, the budget question, “One budget or two?” got “SP one.” He wouldn’t have that preference, if he knew how much she owed in student loans.

She put the sheets on the nightstand and turned off the light.

David called on Tuesday. “We have to talk,” he said.

“Did some of my answers jar you?” Was he reconsidering?

“Not jar, but some of these have to be talked about face to face.”

“Sunday, after dinner,” she suggested. He’d been included in the Jenkins’ invitation.

“Do you have a meeting Wednesday? I could drive out and pick you up, and we could meet here -- with the lights on.”

“Let me check.” Mercifully, that night’s meeting was the women’s society, and Jen didn’t have any responsibilities. “I can come. Why don’t I take the train?”

“I can drive out.”

“But you can arrive at the train station earlier than you can arrive here. That gives me more time with you. For that matter, while I enjoy the drives back to Chicago, I don’t have your full attention then.”

“‘A man who can drive a car around a curve while kissing a girl isn’t paying enough attention to the kiss.’”

She laughed. “Something like that.”

“It’s a date.”

“I’ll meet you at your office.” she said. “That’s the earliest we can get together.” She did enjoy riding in his car with him, but she really enjoyed their times together in his apartment. And that meeting would get them to his apartment sooner than any other.

They agreed to that.

She called up the program chair of the UMW, the president not having answered her phone. “Jill, this is Jen. “I’m afraid I can’t come tomorrow night. David and I have things to plan, and that’s his only time free.”

“Well, weddings don’t plan themselves. I remember. I’ll tell the ladies.”

Thinking about David and his answers led her to make another phone call.

“Northern Illinois Conference, Aurora District.”

“Mrs. Kristensen? You’re the one I wanted to talk to. I’m Jen Saunders, one of the pastors on the district.”

“Yes, Reverend Saunders.”

“Well, I’m getting married.” Not that Mrs. Kristensen didn’t know. If the DS was going to perform the service, his secretary needed to have it on her schedule. “And before I do, I should see a gynecologist. Get some birth control, among other things. I have a gynecologist in Chicago, but I thought one closer would work better. On the other hand, I don’t want one from the hospitals I visit every day. I wonder if you could recommend one in Aurora.”