Riven (3 page)

Gambrell Hall | Emory University

Ravinia looked stiff when her mother embraced her, and she barely seemed to return the touch. Thomas shook her hand, and they sat in the student lounge.

“You look well,” Grace said. “I wish you’d let your hair grow out a little.”

“I wish I had time to take care of more hair, Mom. Regardless, I’m straight, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Grace squinted at Thomas.

“She’s not a lesbian,” he said.

“Oh, my, Ravinia! I wasn’t even suggesting—”

“To prove it, one of these days I’ll introduce you to Dirk.”

“Dirk?”

“Dirk Blanc. Works at MacMillan next door, the law library.”

“He’s a librarian?” Grace said.

Ravinia laughed. “He’s a student too, but most of us work, you know.”

“I know,” Grace said, “and we’re sorry you have to.”

“Even most students with normal parents have to work, Mom.”

“Normal parents?”

“Those not dependent on congregations for their income.”

“Well, one doesn’t go into the ministry for the money, sweetheart. But God’s people have been good to us over the years.”

“Oh, please.
No-
body’s been good to you, and you know it. You give and give and give, and what do you get? Ushered out. So, what happened at Foley?”

“I’d rather talk about what you’re doing, Rav,” Thomas said.

“You promised to tell me.”

“Well, I said I’d rather talk about it in person, yes, but there’s time. . . .”

“No, there isn’t. I have no time, Dad. I study and I work and, if I’m lucky, I eat and sleep. And if you’re telling me that once again—surprise, surprise—you’re between churches, sleep may have to go too. So just tell me.”

“Where are you attending services, honey?” Grace said.

“Can we stop this, Mom? Even if I had the time, I don’t have the interest right now. And I have the feeling that whatever it is you’re about to tell me about the faithful at Foley just might close the church chapter of my life.”

“Oh, don’t say that, Ravinia,” Grace said. “We’re certainly not going to blame this on the people. The Lord just made it clear to us that it was time—”

“To move on, sure. I’ve heard that before. So what was it this time, Dad? You pick the wrong color carpet for the sanctuary? Spend too much time preaching through the Old Testament? What?”

“Actually, we’re pretty proud of what your dad brought to that little lighthouse. Sorry, cliché. But he got a visitation program going and even replaced their old children’s night with one that had updated curriculum. The kids loved it.”

Ravinia stood and rubbed her eyes. She moved to a window and gazed out. Appearing resolute, she returned. “All right, you’re not driving all the way up through here looking for ‘opportunities’ if everything’s peachy in Foley. Now out with it.”

“You’re going to make a fine lawyer,” Thomas said, forcing a smile.

“I’m going to start by suing those people if they did to you what the previous bunch did.”

“Oh, no; you know we don’t solve church problems in court.”

“Maybe you should. You certainly have grounds. Honestly, Dad, I know as well as anybody that you’re no Billy Graham. And, Mom, your piano playing and puppet thing are never going to make you famous. But how can people watch you work yourselves to death—on
their
behalf—and still treat you like garbage?”

Thomas chuckled too loudly. “Thought you hated clichés.”

“Don’t change the subject, Dad. You know I’m not letting you go until you tell me what happened.”

“Can’t we take you to dinner?” Grace said.

“C’mon! We both know you can’t afford it. Follow me through the cafeteria line, and you can share my meal.”

“That wouldn’t be right,” Grace said. “It’d be like stealing.”

“The place is full of lawyers! I’d find you counsel.”

Thomas was warmed to see even Grace smile at that. “Rav,” he said, “we just wanted to see you because we were passing through. And we thought it only fair to tell you that we won’t be able to help with your schooling anymore. At least for a while.”

“It’s all right, Dad. I’m grateful for what you’ve done already, and I know you couldn’t really afford that and certainly didn’t owe me anything after the way I’ve disappointed you.”

“I wouldn’t say you’ve disappointed us.”

“Well, I hope I have, Mom! I’ve tried to!”

Ravinia said it with a smile, but Grace looked pained.

“I’m just saying, I appreciate knowing, and I will make this work somehow. I’ll start my career the way everyone else does: in debt. I’m not aiming for some high-paying corporate job, but I’ll be able to dig out eventually.”

“You know you could go to our denominational school and—”

“Mom! I’m way past that. Anyway, if I was honest on the admissions forms, they wouldn’t take me. Now I need to go eat within the next half hour, and then I’m studying till midnight. But I’m not leaving you until you tell me what happened, so unless you want me to starve . . .”

7 p.m. | The Darby Trailer

“I’ll keep your mom’s plate warm,” Aunt Lois said as she and Peter and Brady crowded around the tiny kitchen table. “Brady, you want to pray for us?”

“No, ma’am. You, please.”

“Petey?”

Peter shook his head. “All I know is, ‘God is great, God is good, now we thank Thee for our food.’”

“Well,” Aunt Lois said, “that’s not half bad, but let me. Dear Lord, thank You for these precious boys and for my sister-in-law, wherever she is. Protect her and bring her back to Yourself. Give her strength when she finally hears what I have to tell her.

“Now, Lord, never let these boys forget all that I’ve taught them about You, that You died on the cross for their sins so they don’t have to go to hell but can live in heaven with You. And thanks for our food. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

Peter was smirking when Brady opened his eyes, so Brady shot him a scowl before Aunt Lois noticed.

The woman had good intentions, Brady knew. It was hard not to love Aunt Lois.

A minute later Brady noticed a tear running down his aunt’s cheek. “What’s wrong?” he said.

“I’m just thinking about your mama and the news I have for her.”

3

Gambrell Hall

Ravinia Carey sat with her arms folded, shaking her head. “That’s it? They just ‘felt it was time’?”

“Well,” her mother said, “maybe it
was
time. We’d been there nearly four years, and perhaps your father had done all he could.”

“I didn’t do it alone, Grace. You worked as hard as I did.”

“They didn’t use the old ready-for-a-younger-man line?”

Thomas had always found his daughter’s direct stare disconcerting. He shrugged. “Actually they did.”

She huffed and looked away.

“Well, attendance
was
down a bit.”

Grace jumped in. “But that was as much because of the plant closing and several families having to leave.”

Ravinia waved her off. “Just tell me they did right by you, other than kicking you to the curb.”

“I got severance, yes.”

“How much?”

“Well, that’s confidential, Rav. I felt it was fair. . . .”

“It’s not confidential from your own daughter! Tell me they gave you a month for every year you served.”

“Oh,” Grace said, “they wouldn’t have been able to afford that. With core families leaving—”

“How much, Dad?”

“A week for each year.”

“Unbelievable.”

“But you know they had provided a parsonage at no cost,” Grace said.

“Like you would have been able to afford rent on that salary. And I’m sure it was a castle. Anyway, all that means is that you have zero equity. Honestly, Dad.”

“Rav, listen to me,” he said. “I don’t know what the future holds, but—”

“Please don’t tell me you know who holds the future!”

“—but I know this: I made a commitment a long time ago, and I’m not about to stray from it now. I told the Lord I would obey Him and follow wherever He leads.”

Ravinia looked away. “I’m trying to find something in that to admire. You’re consistent; I’ll give you that. But how long will you keep banging your head against a wall?”

“Oh, honey,” Grace said, “we’re happy to serve. You know that.”

“But why isn’t anyone else happy with it? You wonder why I’ve ‘lost the blessing,’ as you’ve always so eloquently put it? I know you’re not in this for personal gain, but do you think this is fair? You devote your entire lives to the church, and what do you have to show for it?”

Ravinia looked past Thomas and broke into a beatific smile. “Dirk!” she said, rising.

Thomas turned and stood as a tall, bald young man embraced his daughter. “Excuse me,” Dirk said, shaking first Grace’s hand, then Thomas’s. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Dirk said he and Ravinia had to hurry to the cafeteria and insisted her parents join them. “My treat,” he said.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Thomas said.

“Sure I do! Come on.”

The Darby Trailer

“You and Petey clear your own table, don’t you?” Aunt Lois said.

“We hardly ever eat at the table,” Brady said.

“Honestly. . . . Well, at my house, everybody buses his own dishes.”

“What’s that mean?” Peter said.

“Clear your place and at least put the dishes in the sink. I’ll wash ’em tonight. And we’ll flip to see who dries.”

“Let Petey dry.”

“Hey!”

“I got a job,” Brady said. “I don’t need to be doin’ housework, too.”

“What’s your job?” Aunt Lois said as they maneuvered around each other in the tiny kitchen.

“When the park Laundromat closes each night, I go clean it. Dust the machines, mop the floor, fill the detergent dispensers, collect the money from the coin boxes.”

“How long’s that take?”

“About an hour, but it’s every night, so I make a few bucks a week. That’s how I pay for my movies and could afford the fees for football. Ma sure wasn’t gonna spring for it.”

“And now you’ve quit? What kind of sense does that make?”

“I wanna do something else, that’s all.”

“Can I play my video game until it’s time to dry?” Peter said.

“You got homework, young man?”

Peter laughed. “In third grade?”

“Go on, then,” she said.

Brady sat back down as his aunt did the dishes.

“You know what I got to ask you, don’t you?” she said.

He shrugged. Of course he knew.

“She touch him again since you threatened her?”

“You kiddin’? I told her I’d kill her, and I meant it.”

“You wouldn’t kill your own mama.”

Brady swore. “You know I would.”

“Don’t talk like that. You know better. And you know it’s the booze that makes Erlene—”

“It’s more than booze now, ma’am. I don’t know what else she’s doing, but trust me, when she’s not drunk, she’s high.”

Cafeteria | Emory University

It didn’t take long for Thomas to determine that Dirk Blanc’s budget was hardly stretched by paying for a couple of visitors’ meals. It turned out he was the offspring of two lawyers and worked at the library only because he felt it was the right thing to do.

“Dad and Mom do a lot of pro bono work, so it didn’t seem fair to make them foot the whole bill for my degree.”

“They sound wonderful,” Grace said. “Are you people of faith?”

Thomas noticed Ravinia blink slowly as if mortified, but Dirk didn’t miss a beat. “Not really, no. But we certainly admire religious people and applaud what you do. Don’t misunderstand. We’re not atheists by any means. I’d say we’re more spiritual than religious.”

“‘Religious’ doesn’t really describe us, either,” Grace said, but Thomas surreptitiously pressed his knee against hers and she fell silent. This wasn’t the time or place. If Ravinia was as enamored of this man as she seemed, there would be more opportunities to get into this.

Dirk shot Grace a double take and smiled pleasantly. “Not religious? A pastor and a pastor’s wife?”

Ravinia rose. “Let’s get some dessert.”

The Darby Trailer

Aunt Lois looked at her watch. “What time’s your mama get off work?”

“Hours ago.”

“But she parties?”

Brady snorted. “That’s one way to say it. I think sometimes she and her boss party alone.”

“Is she often this late? What time do you have to clean up the Laundromat?”

“Half hour or so. It closes at ten.”

“And you leave Petey here alone?”

“Have to. Can’t wake him up and drag him along.”

“You poor boys.”

“Don’t worry about us. Worry about him when I finally get out of here. I wish you’d take him.”

“Don’t think I haven’t thought of it. But she’d never stand for it.”

“What does she care? He’s just in her way.”

“But she’d at least see him as personal property, and no way she’d let me raise him.”

“You might be surprised,” Brady said.

“I should have started home an hour ago. I told Carl I’d be back by midnight.”

“No way now. You wanna go with me when I go to work?”

“I’m not leaving your brother alone, even if you think you have to. But you hurry back. Your mama’s gonna demand to know why I’m here, and I want to tell you all together.”

“Even Petey?”

“’Fraid so.”

“So it’s about Daddy, eh?”

“Hush.”

The Emory Inn

Thomas knelt by the bed next to Grace, as he had done every night since their wedding.

“Rav’s in love,” she said. “We either need to get that boy saved or pray it doesn’t work out. The last thing I want is to see her unequally yoked.”

“Hmm.”

“What are you thinking, Thomas?”

“I don’t know. Just that I’m not so sure they’d be unequally yoked.”

She turned to face him, and he knew he shouldn’t be surprised. “What are you saying? I led that girl to Jesus myself.”

“Well, it’s clear she’s left Him somewhere along the way, wouldn’t you say? How old was she, Grace?”

“Very young, of course, but so were you and I when we came to faith. I believe she meant it and knew what she was doing.”

Thomas felt himself welling up, and he did not want to break down in front of Grace. She had always been so strong for him, through every struggling pastorate and every dismissal.