Pastor John is sitting behind his desk when I walk in. He stands up to greet me.
Pastor John is about the same age as Mr. and Mrs. Mac. He’s not that tall, but what he lacks for in height, he makes up for in attitude. He’s really a great guy, and he makes going to church both fun and a learning experience. He baptized Phillip and me, taught our confirmation classes, took a group of us on a mission trip one summer, and was really nice when my parents died. I’ve known the man my whole life.
He hugs me and says, “So, you and Phillip are engaged.”
“Yeah, you were at our engagement party,” I say as I sit in one of the two blue-checkered chairs in front of his desk.
He slides into the chair behind his desk. “I’m curious, did you say no onstage just for dramatic effect?”
“Not really. I was thinking about saying no. I told him I was gonna say no.”
“I wondered about that. His parents had told everyone he was asking you at dinner and that, when you came down, it meant you’d said yes. I noticed when he went up onstage with you that he put the ring on your finger. I thought he would’ve done that before.”
“He did. I said yes at dinner, but I got mad at him when I figured out it was an engagement party.”
“Why?”
“He had just agreed we wouldn’t tell people yet.”
“Why wouldn’t you want to tell people such happy news?”
I roll my eyes at him. “Pastor, you know we got engaged on our first date. You’ve been marrying people for a long time. Ever seen that?”
“Actually, no. That’s part of why I wanted to talk with you. But, first, tell me why you said yes.”
“That’s easy. I said yes because I love him.”
Pastor John nods.
“And you don’t have to worry. We’re not rushing into things. We’re gonna have a very long engagement.”
“I see,” he says.
He seems frustratingly noncommittal. I thought he’d agree that it was a good idea.
“Do you think that’s bad or something?”
“I’m not here to judge you, JJ.”
“Then, why am I here? Why did you wanna talk to me? I know getting engaged on your first date is a little unusual, but it’ll be a great story to tell our kids someday.”
“Would you want your children to do the same?”
“Well, no, but I’ve known Phillip my whole life. It’s not like I just met him.”
“Yes, but being friends with someone is different from being in a relationship with them.”
I wanna say, Damn right. Sex makes it a whole lot more fun, but I don’t. I’m in church. And hell doesn’t sound like much fun. I’m just saying.
He says, “I’ll be honest with you. Phillip’s parents are a little concerned about this.”
“Are you serious? Mrs. Mac keeps pushing me to plan the wedding.”
“It’s not the planning part or the fact that you’re marrying their son. They love you. They’re just a little worried that you’ve never dealt with your parents’ deaths, and they are afraid it might affect your future with Phillip.”
That comment sorta gets my panties in a wad, so I have a hard time keeping the smart-ass out of my tone. “I dealt with it.”
“If I recall, you refused counseling,” he says with an equally snippy voice. “At least from me. Did you talk to someone that I don’t know about?”
“I didn’t need counseling. Obviously, I turned out fine. I graduated from college, and I have a good job.”
“Yes, on the surface, it would appear you have, but I also heard, when you and Phillip tried to date before, you pushed him away.”
Are you kidding me?
“I didn’t push him away! We were having fun, drinking and dancing, and he ditched me! He’s the one you should be talking to about this.”
I’m mad, but I also know that he’s sort of right. I kinda did push Phillip away. I was scared, but it had nothing to do with my parents.
I mean, except for the whole being-alone thing.
What’s this all about?
Pastor John looks frustrated with me. He runs his hand down the sides of his small brown beard. “I will talk to Phillip. You’ll have to go through couples counseling here if you want me to marry you.”
“Well, like I said, there’s plenty of time for that.”
“JJ, what we find is that, sometimes, when a person’s suffered a loss like yours, they tend to push people away without realizing it. Sometimes, they feel it’s easier not to love than to love with their whole heart and risk experiencing another loss. Is that why all your past relationships have been so short? Have you pushed people away?”
What the hell?
What is he? Is he in some kind of pastoral CIA? Where does he hear this stuff?
“I don’t push people away. I’ve had the same friends for years and made a lot more at college. And, as far as guys go, they usually stopped dating me because they couldn’t handle that we were all so close. And I’ve dealt with my parents’ deaths just fine. You were at the funeral. I stood up and spoke. I dealt with it. I’m fine.”
So there.
He says quietly, “Some people feel abandoned.”
Abandoned?
His quiet words knock the wind out of me.
Before I can even think, I’m standing up, leaning across his desk, and yelling, “My parents didn’t abandon me! They never would’ve left me. They loved me!”
Then, I remember, he’s a pastor, I’m in church, and I probably shouldn’t be yelling. But there is no way in hell I’m gonna stay and listen to this bullshit.
Sorry, God, but I’m not.
“Look, this has been a great chat, but I’m afraid I have to go.” I walk toward his door.
As I’m opening the door to get the hell out of there, he says, “Is this how you typically deal with conflict? Do you run away from it? Avoid it?”
It takes everything I have to calmly say, “We don’t have a conflict, sir. If we did, I’d stay here and fight you. You’ve deeply offended me, and I have nothing more to say.” I turn around and mutter under my breath, “And I’ll be damned if you’ll be counseling or marrying me.”
Sorry for cussing in church, God, but I hate him. I really do.
As the door closes, I hear him mutter, “Wanna bet?”
I sit in my car, shaking slightly and feeling like I could throw up. What the hell does he know anyway? Just because he sees me occasionally at church doesn’t mean he has a clue about me. I never run away from conflict. I’ve always stood up for myself. Even against Danny, who is the most stubborn person I know.
And what is that stuff about my parents abandoning me? I’ve never felt abandoned. Ever.
Alone, sure.
I mean, I am alone. Family-wise.
And, yes, I refused counseling. What good was counseling gonna do me? I wasn’t going to sit around and talk about how they were gone. I was already painfully aware of that fact.
I go meet Phillip.
“So, how’d it go with Pastor John? What’d he want to talk about?”
“Um, nothing really,” I lie. “I don’t think I want him to marry us, Phillip.”
Phillip is taken aback by my comment. “Why not?”
Fortunately, we have just pulled into the parking lot of the bar where we’re meeting a bunch of friends to watch the college football game. I quickly hop out of the car without answering.
I don’t usually say this, but I could seriously use a drink right now. I’m still feeling shaken. I’m not sure what to tell Phillip about why I don’t want Pastor John to marry us. If I do agree to counseling, I’ll have to tell him what he said.
And what he said is something I don’t wanna talk about.
Phillip casually takes my hand as we walk across the parking lot.
I take a deep breath. I don’t know what it is about Phillip, but when he holds my hand, I feel like I could take on the world.
I don’t need a drink, just Phillip.
“So, why don’t you want him to marry us?”
“He’s just getting old. I want our wedding to be cool,” I lie. Badly. We were just at a wedding he did that was very contemporary.
Phillip looks at me kinda funny, but when we walk in the bar, Joey immediately slaps Phillip on the back, hands us Fireball shots, and makes us cheer, “Go, Big Red.”
While I try really hard not to cry.
