FIVE: 3:22-23
* * *
Kevin was out of town; business trip to Japan. I'd seen him off at Glenoak International myself, kissed him warmly and watched him step to security. Now I sat before the mirror in our large bedroom, carefully dressing and attending to my makeup, trying to keep my hands from shaking as I did.
This wasn't easy.
Just lunch, I told myself. That's all it needs to be.
Liar.
I rose, inspected myself in the mirror. As I picked up my purse my gaze fell on my Bible, sitting on the nightstand by the bed.
It's time, God, I thought. I throw myself on your mercy. I love you and I love your son, but I cannot deny any longer what you have made of me. I have tried, again and again, and you have been silent in my need. What do you want of me? Am I to suffer so that you and my father and those who hate what I am may feel a false contentment? Or in your silence, do you mean I should do this thing, that I should be honest with what I am, by your hand?
Nothing.
I stepped from the room, out to the garage, backed my car out and drove into town.
#
She was waiting for me when I arrived.
The red dress still fit her well, her figure slender, curved at the hips and bust. She had kept her hair long, too, with just that bit of bounce. She smiled and rose as I stepped to the table.
"Hi, Lucy."
I smiled back.
"Hi."
I wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked as we each sat. The waiter appeared with our menus.
"Anything you want," I told her. "It's on me."
She looked at me over the menu.
"I'm going to take you up on that, you know," she said.
We passed the meal with idle conversation, catching up. It's easy to fall behind with someone when you've been busy. She laughed a few times, her voice soft and melodic even then. And I laughed too, laughed for the first time in ages, an easy, comfortable laugh. She looked at me as I quieted.
"You're very pretty when you laugh, Lucy. You should laugh more often."
I regarded her.
"Thank you."
She reclined then, watched me back, holding her half-empty glass of wine in her hand.
"Kevin?" she asked softly.
"In Tokyo by now. Chandler?"
"Church organizational meeting for two days. In San Francisco."
I nodded. She nodded. I paid the bill and we rose.
As we got close to my car she reached over and took my hand.
#
I chose my house. A room in the hotel would have attracted attention, but no one would question two friends, one a future Minister and the other a Minister's wife, getting together for an afternoon at home. Roxanne didn't protest, didn't say anything as I pulled into the garage and shut off the motor, letting the door close behind us. Instead she simply followed me inside, through the large kitchen, the large dining room, and upstairs. In the bedroom, I turned and faced her.
"I'd really love to dance," she said softly.
I nodded, took a moment to put on some music.
Jazz. She knew the tune, smiled.
Our hands met, fingers weaving about each other. Her hand went to my waist, drew me close. I gasped softly as I felt her bodice against my own, felt a shiver run down my spine. We moved, turned, our heels silent against the carpeted floor, and as one song faded into another she drew me to her again, her face near mine, and I could feel the rounded shape of her breasts against mine.
"You knew," I whispered. "You always knew."
"So did you," she answered softly.
I looked into her eyes, so close, the combined scents of our perfume intoxicating.
"Yes," I said. It was true. Somehow.
She moved to me, her lips touching mine, and I responded. Hers were soft, moist, her tongue tender, warm. And her hand was moving, over my back and down, gentle, loving. My body, so cold and so dead and so afraid for so long, seemed to suddenly come alive, arching against her.
I moaned at the feelings.
And the bed met us as we descended.
#
In time, how much time I do not know, we lay together there. She was sleeping, her body warm against me, and my fingers traced an idle pattern across the bare skin of her shoulder. The music had ended, and now it was silent, the pillow soft beneath my head, comfortable.
When had I last felt such comfort?
I didn't know. I didn't know I could anymore.
Roxanne stirred a bit, snuggled closer. I kept my embrace and she did not waken.
She was beautiful there, her long hair wild around her. My Roxanne. Gently I leaned to her, kissed her forehead. As I leaned back my gaze passed the nightstand.
I looked at the Bible there for a long time.
Eheyeh asher eheyeh.
I am that which I am.
I feel you, God. I feel you close. I hear your words now, and I understand.
"Then the Lord God said, 'Behold, the man has become like one of us, knowing good and evil; and now, what if he puts forth his hand and takes also from the tree of life, and eats, and lives forever?' So the Lord God sent him forth from the garden of Eden, to till the soil from which he was taken."
We did not die when we ate of the fruit; we learned. And it was not sin that made you send us forth from Eden, God; it was wisdom. Your wisdom. You saw that Eve, in her disobedience, had grown as great as you, and that she had brought Adam with her. You saw that there was no longer a place for them in paradise because they were above it now, just as you are. And in your wisdom you saw that they and all their children must make their own ways in the world, must till the soil not only of the earth but of the soul, each seeking themselves, seeking the truth that is your name.
Eheyeh. I am.
THE END
* * *
Kevin was out of town; business trip to Japan. I'd seen him off at Glenoak International myself, kissed him warmly and watched him step to security. Now I sat before the mirror in our large bedroom, carefully dressing and attending to my makeup, trying to keep my hands from shaking as I did.
This wasn't easy.
Just lunch, I told myself. That's all it needs to be.
Liar.
I rose, inspected myself in the mirror. As I picked up my purse my gaze fell on my Bible, sitting on the nightstand by the bed.
It's time, God, I thought. I throw myself on your mercy. I love you and I love your son, but I cannot deny any longer what you have made of me. I have tried, again and again, and you have been silent in my need. What do you want of me? Am I to suffer so that you and my father and those who hate what I am may feel a false contentment? Or in your silence, do you mean I should do this thing, that I should be honest with what I am, by your hand?
Nothing.
I stepped from the room, out to the garage, backed my car out and drove into town.
#
She was waiting for me when I arrived.
The red dress still fit her well, her figure slender, curved at the hips and bust. She had kept her hair long, too, with just that bit of bounce. She smiled and rose as I stepped to the table.
"Hi, Lucy."
I smiled back.
"Hi."
I wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked as we each sat. The waiter appeared with our menus.
"Anything you want," I told her. "It's on me."
She looked at me over the menu.
"I'm going to take you up on that, you know," she said.
We passed the meal with idle conversation, catching up. It's easy to fall behind with someone when you've been busy. She laughed a few times, her voice soft and melodic even then. And I laughed too, laughed for the first time in ages, an easy, comfortable laugh. She looked at me as I quieted.
"You're very pretty when you laugh, Lucy. You should laugh more often."
I regarded her.
"Thank you."
She reclined then, watched me back, holding her half-empty glass of wine in her hand.
"Kevin?" she asked softly.
"In Tokyo by now. Chandler?"
"Church organizational meeting for two days. In San Francisco."
I nodded. She nodded. I paid the bill and we rose.
As we got close to my car she reached over and took my hand.
#
I chose my house. A room in the hotel would have attracted attention, but no one would question two friends, one a future Minister and the other a Minister's wife, getting together for an afternoon at home. Roxanne didn't protest, didn't say anything as I pulled into the garage and shut off the motor, letting the door close behind us. Instead she simply followed me inside, through the large kitchen, the large dining room, and upstairs. In the bedroom, I turned and faced her.
"I'd really love to dance," she said softly.
I nodded, took a moment to put on some music.
Jazz. She knew the tune, smiled.
Our hands met, fingers weaving about each other. Her hand went to my waist, drew me close. I gasped softly as I felt her bodice against my own, felt a shiver run down my spine. We moved, turned, our heels silent against the carpeted floor, and as one song faded into another she drew me to her again, her face near mine, and I could feel the rounded shape of her breasts against mine.
"You knew," I whispered. "You always knew."
"So did you," she answered softly.
I looked into her eyes, so close, the combined scents of our perfume intoxicating.
"Yes," I said. It was true. Somehow.
She moved to me, her lips touching mine, and I responded. Hers were soft, moist, her tongue tender, warm. And her hand was moving, over my back and down, gentle, loving. My body, so cold and so dead and so afraid for so long, seemed to suddenly come alive, arching against her.
I moaned at the feelings.
And the bed met us as we descended.
#
In time, how much time I do not know, we lay together there. She was sleeping, her body warm against me, and my fingers traced an idle pattern across the bare skin of her shoulder. The music had ended, and now it was silent, the pillow soft beneath my head, comfortable.
When had I last felt such comfort?
I didn't know. I didn't know I could anymore.
Roxanne stirred a bit, snuggled closer. I kept my embrace and she did not waken.
She was beautiful there, her long hair wild around her. My Roxanne. Gently I leaned to her, kissed her forehead. As I leaned back my gaze passed the nightstand.
I looked at the Bible there for a long time.
Eheyeh asher eheyeh.
I am that which I am.
I feel you, God. I feel you close. I hear your words now, and I understand.
"Then the Lord God said, 'Behold, the man has become like one of us, knowing good and evil; and now, what if he puts forth his hand and takes also from the tree of life, and eats, and lives forever?' So the Lord God sent him forth from the garden of Eden, to till the soil from which he was taken."
We did not die when we ate of the fruit; we learned. And it was not sin that made you send us forth from Eden, God; it was wisdom. Your wisdom. You saw that Eve, in her disobedience, had grown as great as you, and that she had brought Adam with her. You saw that there was no longer a place for them in paradise because they were above it now, just as you are. And in your wisdom you saw that they and all their children must make their own ways in the world, must till the soil not only of the earth but of the soul, each seeking themselves, seeking the truth that is your name.
Eheyeh. I am.
THE END