Creeping sadness swallowed her up like quicksand. The more she tried to redirect her thoughts to struggle against it, the deeper she sank. What did it matter if she’d discovered the most wonderful thing in the world if society wouldn’t allow it to exist? She knew her father would disown her if he ever found out she was involved with a woman.
Maybe if Royal dressed or looked in such a way that she could blend in. Would that make a difference? No. Part of what Lovey found so attractive about Royal was her disdain for convention. She knew this, and at the same time she feared it. For all her elevated discourse about women’s roles and modernity, deep down she knew the conservatism she’d been raised in had deep sunk roots. Until she could fully exorcise those deeply ingrained origins she would never be truly free. She was afraid she wasn’t brave enough to exist openly with Royal.
Even as she thought these things, even as she mourned the loss of what could never be, she started planning a way to be alone with Royal again. Even though part of her psyche knew she was setting herself up for heartache by doing so.
❖
Lovey held the coffee cup in both hands and sipped. Her father sat across from her, coffee in hand, reading over his notes.
“So, who were you with last night?” He asked the question without looking up.
“Just a friend from church. What is your topic for the service this morning?” Lovey usually liked to hear her father talk about his chosen message. She felt a certain sense of specialness getting to hear the raw message before anyone else. However, this morning her agenda was to distract him away from his questions about how she’d spent the previous evening, or with whom.
“Service of others.”
“Sounds promising.” Lovey watched him pore over his notes. She knew he was only half in the room at the moment, practicing his sermon delivery in his head. She watched him stand absently and refill his coffee.
“You should get ready. We’ll be late.” He spoke to her while his attention remained on the open Bible in his hand. He left the room, carrying his coffee as he turned into his study and pulled the door shut.
Lovey held her head in her hands. She was a grown woman, but at the moment she felt like a teenager attempting to keep some secret from her parent. Shouldn’t she be able to spend time with whomever she chose at this point? She rinsed her cup and moved with leaden feet down the hall to bathe and get dressed for church.
When did attending a worship service become such a chore? Was it only because her faith had failed to explain the events of her life? Was that even the role of faith? She’d been taught that God’s hand was at work in all things of this world and that believers were to trust in the infallible workings of his deeds. If that were true, if God was at work in all things, then why had this incredibly strong attraction for Royal developed? Was God testing her ability to overcome temptation? If that were the case she’d already failed the test miserably.
What happened to a person’s faith when it seemed to have no relevance to their actual life? She had no answers to any of her questions, and the path her mind had taken was doing nothing but increasing her annoyance level.
Lovey pulled a dress from her narrow closet and tossed it onto the bed so that she could begin to get dressed for church.
❖
Lovey sat in her usual spot in the second pew, near the aisle. She schooled her expression so that her face gave the impression of rapt attentiveness, when in reality she was anything but attentive. Her body was at rest, her back firm against the stiff wood; her mind was in bed with Royal. Heat rose to her throat and décolleté as she remembered Royal’s hands on her skin.
Stop. Focus. She forced her attention back to her father in the pulpit.
“The more abundantly I love you, the less I be loved. Second Corinthians, chapter twelve, verse fifteen, talks of Paul’s willingness to love without thought of reciprocity.” Her father paused for effect and shifted from behind the pedestal upon which his Bible rested. “Paul was talking to all of us who claim to be Christian. His challenge was for us to love others so that they may come to know Christ.” His voice grew solemn. “Natural love expects something in return, but not Christ’s love, not Christian love.”
Lovey shifted on the stiff pew. Every time her father said the word love she flinched, as if she were taking each utterance of the word personally. As if each time he said it he was looking right through her. As if he somehow knew where her mind had wandered.
“Christ calls us to serve him by serving others. This is his great command.”
Lovey’s mind drifted during the last part of his sermon. Her foot twitched to be free of this forced stasis. She fanned herself as the air around her seemed to grow thick with the heat she felt sure was emanating from her entire body. The words closing hymn called to her through her fog of distraction, and she sighed with relief knowing release was soon at hand.
“Walk in love, as Christ has loved us. Let us turn to page sixty in our hymnals.” Her father signaled for the pianist to begin to play. “And let all those who are burdened come and kneel at the altar and I will pray with you.” He nodded again at the pianist and she began to play “I Surrender All.”
The congregation stood. Some with raised hands swayed and sang the tune from memory with
