Composing Amelia (36 page)

“Amelia, your husband is here.”

A surge of fear flooded her body. Amelia clutched the handles of her duffel and headed for the windowless double doors that led to the rest of the hospital. The desk nurse triggered the door release, and Amelia walked out to the hall where Marcus stood.

He looked nervous, like it was their first date. “Hey, Ames.” He reached out a hand. “Let me take your bag.”

She handed it to him and swallowed against the anxious dryness that invaded her mouth. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” A shy smile spread across his face, and her heart ached with the realization of how hurt he must have been by her silence. “I missed you, Ames.”

“I—missed you, too.”

“For real?”

She nodded.

Marcus let out a deep sigh. “Whew. I was really, really worried for a while there.” He reached for her hand as they walked to the door, and she let him take it even though she’d planned to keep her emotional distance. She’d figured the cooler she could keep things between them in the coming months, the less painful her eventual departure would be. But now …

The drive home was awkward. Marcus tried a few times to engage her in conversation, but she was too preoccupied—with Kristine’s letter and the doubts it had cast on her intentions, with the weight of the real world she had to somehow fit back into, with sadness over how she had shunned Marcus while hospitalized. “I’m still not a hundred percent,” she told him, hoping it would ease the blow. “I’m still depressed. They don’t keep you there until you’re completely better, just until you’re not suicidal. They kept me a little longer because of the baby and trying to make sure the meds were kicking in.”

“Ah, gotcha.” Marcus squeezed her knee. “I’ll shut up, then. Just tell me if there’s anything I can do.”

“I will.”

The smile he beamed her way wrenched her heart even more. It had been easy to think about leaving Nebraska when she’d been isolated, but now, back in Marcus’s gravity, her resolve was wavering even more.

When they got home she expected him to drop her off and go back to work. When he followed her inside and began to fix a snack, she asked when he was leaving.

“I’m sort of taking a sabbatical,” he said.

She was surprised. “You told me Ed’s teaching this month,” she said, feeling her face flush at the indirect nod to the letters he’d written, “but I’m home now, so I figured you’d go back.”

Marcus kept his eyes on the apple he was slicing. “Actually that’s not the only reason.”

“It’s not?”

“No—but you’ve got your own stuff to deal with right now; I don’t want to go into all my garbage on top of it. Don’t worry, though; it’s all good.” He flashed her a smile and went back to his apple, leaving Amelia to wonder what he was talking about but too wrapped up in her own turmoil to want to press for details.

Not knowing what else to do with herself, Amelia curled up on the couch and shut her eyes. She cursed Kristine for leaving her that message. She’d had a good thing going before that, and it had given her hope that she wouldn’t be stuck in this life she’d grown to despise. But all that talk about God being real whether she wanted Him to be or not, and that her bipolar might actually be a good thing … She still wasn’t sure she bought any of it, but it made just enough sense to throw everything out of whack.

The baby fluttered in her abdomen. She put a hand to her stomach, patted it gently, then lay down to take a nap. Now that the edge was off the depression, sleep came more easily, and she might as well take advantage of it. Anything that gave her an excuse not to contemplate her life.

Having Amelia home wasn’t what Marcus thought it would be. She’d been in therapy, he’d been working through his problems with Ed, and he’d naively thought they’d be in a better place now. He hadn’t expected her to still be struggling as much as she was, and to have to chart her moods for her therapist, and to still be trying to avoid him. He thought that’s what she was doing with all those naps, anyway.

It felt similar to when they’d been living in different states. Marcus had this interior life full of chaos and questions about who he was, and God was slowly revealing more and more of who and what Marcus was supposed to be—and Amelia knew nothing about it. And he could tell Amelia was experiencing something like it too. She almost never stayed this quiet for this long, and whenever she did, it was because she was really wrapped up in something. What was going on in her head?

While they’d driven the long, awkward ride home from the hospital, he had vowed to himself that he’d be a better husband. No more escaping to work to avoid uncomfortable discussions and feelings. No more allowing their communication to stagnate. And no more tiptoeing around Amelia and letting her retreat into her head. He loved her too much to lose her to another depression.

“So … how are you?” he asked her one night as they sat worlds away from each other on the couch and stared at a Hallmark movie.

She shrugged. “Fine.”

“You’re not … you’re not suicidal again, are you?”

She looked surprised. “What? No, not at all. I’m actually feeling almost normal. Why?”

He shifted on the couch so he was facing her, and slowly reached over to take her hand that was resting in her lap. “You’ve been so quiet. I miss talking with you. I don’t know what you’re thinking anymore. And … I guess now I’m worried that, since I didn’t see the signs of your depression the first time, I’m going to miss them the next time too.”

He thought he saw a glimmer of the old Amelia in her expression as she nudged him gently with her foot. “I promise—I really promise—I’m not suicidal. I’m hardly even sad anymore. The medication they’ve got me on is definitely doing something good. I just have a … a lot on my mind.”

“I know how that goes.” He swallowed hard, knowing she’d be mad that he’d waited so long to tell her about his father. “We’re both hiding something.”

Her guarded look returned. “Both of us, hm?”

“I’ll trade you, my secret for yours.”

Her mouth twitched. “I’m curious what yours is, but … I’m not ready yet.” She stood. “I’m going to go to bed.”

The hope that had briefly flared in his chest died out as she gave his knee a pat and headed for the bedroom.

Marcus hadn’t talked to anyone about his conversation with Pastor Ryan. But he’d ruminated on the man’s words long enough. It was time to hash them out with another person. A week after Amelia had come home, Marcus met Ed at the diner once again. “So how’s Amelia?” Ed asked as he doctored his coffee with sugar and cream. “Was her time at the hospital helpful?”

Marcus filled him in with what few details he knew. “There’s something she’s not telling me, though. I’m not sure if I should be worried or not.”

Ed frowned as he stirred. “Secrets in a marriage are no good.”

Marcus’s guilt kicked in. “You’re right. But I can’t force her to tell me what’s going on, either.”

“No, that’s true. Best just to make sure you’re nurturing your relationship as best you can so she feels safe telling you.”

Marcus nodded, glad he had his pie to focus on. “On a different topic, I had an interesting conversation with the hospital chaplain.” He told Ed what Ryan had said, noting especially the other pastor’s admonition to stop thinking about whether he was in the wrong place and concentrate instead on what God wanted him to do at New Hope. “I’ve been going crazy trying to get things off the ground here—you’ve experienced that yourself. And I know neither of us wants to see the church collapse around us. But … I’ve been praying about what he said, and it makes more and more sense every day.”

Ed’s gaze was steady on his pie, but Marcus could tell he was thinking. “That’s excellent advice,” he finally said. “I’m disappointed that I didn’t think of that myself.” He glanced up at Marcus. “And has God revealed anything to you about what your purpose is here?”

“I think so, actually. I—I really think I am supposed to be a pastor.”

Ed chuckled. “I could have told you that, son. Anyone who listens to you preach knows you’re a born teacher. And your sermons are some of the best I’ve heard. Very impressive for a man so young.”

The compliment was heady stuff. Marcus tried not to let his giddy appreciation show too much. “Thanks, Ed. That means a lot.”

“You’re welcome. I guess the next question is, what do we do now?”

“Well …” Marcus tapped his fork on his pie, nervous about the suggestion he was about to make. “I think the board needs to draw a line in the sand, saying
this
is what we’re about, and if you’re in, great. If you’re not …” He shrugged.

“Show them the door?”

“Maybe not quite like that, but make it clear that we’re not going to accommodate attitudes and behavior that are detrimental to the body.”

“Set some boundaries.”

“Precisely.” Marcus pushed his pie away, his energy focused entirely now on the conversation. The passion he’d felt for the job when he’d first been hired was smoldering again. “When I think about the vision you had, of a community that really took care of its own, I get so fired up. I want to be a part of that. And I really think God wants me to be a part of it too. And I can see there’s going to be a rocky road ahead as the members are called upon to either get serious or go home. There are going to be some hurt feelings, some big anger—because people have grown complacent and they like things the way they are, not because I foresee us being mean in our delivery. But what’s going to come out of it … I think it’s going to be amazing.”

Ed smiled. “A phoenix rising from the ashes.”

Marcus’s heart knocked in his chest. “Yes. Yes, exactly like that.”

They spent the rest of their time together brainstorming, and when Marcus left for home, he felt like a new man. Everything was falling into place. His purpose was clear again, and without the weight of the congregation’s health on his shoulders, he felt that he actually had the strength to handle whatever they might throw at him when changes started to happen.

There was only one thing left to do: Show Amelia that her secret was safe with him.

A month out of the hospital, Amelia’s depression had greatly improved, though she still felt emotionally wobbly on some days. Unfortunately, the stability didn’t translate to her plans. She changed her mind about her future and her faith almost daily. Ruminations about motherhood would send her dreaming of running away to LA after the baby was born, but the next day she’d see a mom with a newborn at the store and find herself taken by the perfect little bundle in the stroller. She’d be comfortable with the idea of a godless world, only to have Marcus read her something he’d found interesting in one of his preaching magazines that made it more obvious than ever that God had to be real. Her soul was suffering from a bad case of whiplash.