The annual Sweethearts Supper was always held in the big dining room in the church's basement. Laura's mom had volunteered to help with the setup on the Friday before the event, bundling up Laura and her brothers, Lenny and Lou, in sweaters and coats to drive them through the February twilight. Unfortunately, Mom had not known child care would not be provided this time, and so Laura and Lenny were given brooms while Lou toddled after them with a dustpan.
They were not the only family to overlook the memo in the church bulletin. Laura's curly-haired best friend, Junior, showed up with his parents. A few kids from their Sunday school class also arrived: a short boy named Percy and his brother, nicknamed Lil' Pea, and a quiet, bespectacled girl named Annie.
"Makes no sense for kids to clean up," grumbled Junior as he and Laura swept out a corner. "We're not even invited to the dinner."
"At least we get pizza for helping," Laura pointed out. The church usually ordered large pies from Pizza Angel for helpers, and Junior's dad had already volunteered to go pick them up when they were ready.
"Yeah, but I'm missing a cartoon marathon right now!" He leaned against the broom handle, sticking out his lip. "Makes no sense!"
The supper was only open to married and engaged couples, a free event which the church called a "ministry" to its congregation. Laura's mother said it was a chance for people to interact with other couples, and it could provide any struggling pair a healthy way to work on their relationship. Laura, however, did not quite understand that logic. Every RSVP-ed person was coming with their soulmate, including Laura's parents. What more "work" could they possibly need?
As Laura knelt with the dustpan, she gave a sweeping glance over the room, wondering how much was left to do. A tall, curly-haired English immigrant named Archibald and his wife, Lovey, walked around with clipboards, directing the volunteers and lending a hand where needed. Meanwhile, a lot of the grownups rolled out big, white tables or carried matching folding chairs, stepping back to let another group wipe down the surfaces. A short, elderly couple, nicknamed Pa and Ma Grape, unfolded faded, plastic tablecloths and inspected them for rips, and a slim, red-haired woman named Petunia helped them. Bob and Larry, a pair of friends who often taught children's church, were sliding push rooms across the concrete floor — actually, Bob, the stout, sensible one, was doing most of the sweeping. Larry, the lanky, goofy, tall one, entertained the other kids, who had congregated around him per usual. Laura liked Larry, who was both silly and kind, always helping everyone in his unique way. Right now, Larry galloped on the broom as though it were a hobby horse, which made the kids, including Lenny and Lou, rock with constant giggles. Bob sometimes shook his head at his best friend's antics, but he mostly left Larry and his audience alone.
As she watched Larry, Laura leapt up with sudden inspiration, nearly upsetting her dustpan.
"Hey! Bob or Larry must have the key to the children's church room," she told Junior. "Why don't we ask if we can watch a movie?"
Junior's brown eyes lit up. "You're a genius, Laura."
She grinned. "I know."
High-fiving, they leaned their brooms against the wall and wove through the volunteers to the tall, bucktoothed equestrian, who was humming a silly Western-style song which he wrote about water buffalos.
"Took my buffalo to the store," he piped in a nasally voice. "Got his head stuck in the door. Spilled some lima beans on the floor. Oh, everybody's got a water buffalo-o-o!"
They waited for him to finish before Laura latched onto his elbow, making her wide, blue eyes look sweet.
"Oh, Lar-ry!" she sang. "Can you do us a favor, please?"
Larry's hazel eyes glanced down at her, and his wide mouth formed a boyish smile. "How can I help ya, buddy?"
Junior and Laura quickly told him their idea. His listening audience brightened at the mention of a movie. At once, they crowded Larry.
"Can we, Larry?" Percy piped up.
"Pretty please?" Annie asked, folding her hands.
"With a cherry on top?" added Lil' Pea.
"I'll have to ask Pa Grape if it's okay," Larry told them, ruffling Lil' Pea's black hair. "He's the supervisor over all the Sunday-school stuff."
The children bobbed after him like ducklings over to Pa and Ma, who had stacked a nice pile of suitable tablecloths. Petunia, the red-haired woman, counted them under her breath. Larry landed with an energetic hop by the trio, clapping his hands as though he were a child himself.
"Oh, Pa-a-a! Can you spare these hard workers long enough to watch a movie until the pizza arrives?"
"Ooh, that sounds like a nice idea," Petunia beamed. "Should be more fun for these guys, huh?"
"Super fun," Laura grinned back. Petunia had only joined the church last autumn, but Laura had quickly warmed up to her. The newcomer worked in the nursery, and she always complimented Laura for being a good big sister whenever Laura picked up Lou for Mom after service.
Ma Grape, meanwhile, nodded gratefully, adjusting her glasses.
"Normally, Grandma Gourd does our child care, but she's out sick. We didn't predict so many people would bring their kids."
"And these youngsters didn't sign up to be volunteers," Pa acknowledged, giving Laura's blonde pigtail a grandfatherly tug. "I don't see why they can't enjoy themselves a little."
"Yes!" the kids cheered in unison.
Junior and Laura at once latched onto Larry's wrists, tugging him toward the exit while Percy and Lenny pushed against his lanky legs to make him hurry.
"Need some help?" Petunia offered, standing. Lou had gone over to her with his arms raised, signaling he wanted to be picked up. She had obliged him, positioning the blond toddler on her hip.
"The more, the merrier," Larry grinned over his shoulder.
"Less talking, more walking, Larry!" Junior charged him.
The children thundered up two flights of steps and down the echoing hall to the classroom at the back of the building. The windows, which Laura was used to seeing provide a daylight vista of the lawn behind the church, resembled black squares trimmed with snow once Larry flipped on the lights. Low tables filled up one side of the room, while an open area lined with cubbies and art supplies offered space for the older kids to sit. Larry rolled out the TV cart from the closet and popped the church's VHS copy of The Prince of Egypt into the old VCR. The older kids settled on the faded green carpet while Petunia sat with Lou in a chair. Larry dragged over a beanbag chair and settled next to her.
While the previews played, Laura studied her grownup friends out of the corner of her eye, noting the goofy, comfortable smile which Larry gave Petunia, the kind which cartoon characters wore when their sweethearts showed up.
With a soft, sympathetic sigh, Laura shook her head.
Poor Larry. Doesn't he know he doesn't have a chance?
She had overheard her parents say Larry admired Petunia, but Laura knew for a fact he had no mark. When the church had its Splash Day, Larry had volunteered as a lifeguard, and Laura had seen his bare wrists, plain as day, when he had taken off his watch. Bare Wrists never got married, so Larry was wasting his time.
Laura's blue gaze went to her own fair wrist. Someday, hopefully, a mark would appear there, just like the ones on her parents' arms, but it would be unique to her and her future husband. At least, that's what all the songs on the radio said. Some people could have similar marks, but only one's soul mate was perfectly identical. Case in point, Junior's parents both had tan marks which vaguely resembled asparaguses. Archibald and Lovey, the English couple, also had asparagus-like marks, but theirs were slightly redder and longer.
But then there were Bare Wrists, like Larry: people who probably spent years waiting for a mark to appear, only to discover it would never come. Larry never seemed to mind his fate of being eternally single, but ever since Laura had heard her parents discussing his crush on Petunia, she had begun to feel sorry for him.
To be without a soulmate is probably the worst thing ever, she mused.
Glancing up at the clock, she realized it was about that time when Mom normally gave Lou a few sips of juice. Climbing to her sneakered feet, she crossed over to her little brother, who seemed absorbed in the cartoon despite seeing it plenty of times at home. Standing next to Petunia, who smiled at her, Laura petted her brother's soft, blond hair.
"You comfy, Lou? Do you need me to go get your sippy cup from Mommy?"
Lou shook his head, picking at the pink sleeve of Petunia's sweater set.
"What a good big sister to check on you, huh, Lou?" Petunia observed, patting Lou's little arm.
Lou did not seem to hear, still pulling the hem up, just above the bone. This revealed a reddish-tan streak which resembled a birthmark, but Laura knew better.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, forgetting the sippy cup entirely. "Is that your soulmate mark?"
"Shhh!" the four boys on the carpet hissed, glaring back at Laura.
Annie, however, knew the importance of things like marks, and she joined Laura to examine the long, narrow shape that was thick only one end. Larry also glanced at Petunia's wrist, but he did not look as though all his hopes of a happily ever after were shattered. If anything, he gave Petunia what looked like a sympathetic smile.
"What kind of mark is that?" Laura asked, squinting.
"To be honest, I have no clue," Petunia laughed softly, "but it kinda looks like a rhubarb, no?"
"How old were you when you got it? My mom was sixteen when she got hers, but dad was eighteen," she bubbled.
"I was twenty, actually."
"Twenty!" Laura cried, appalled. "You can actually get them that late?"
Petunia gave a good-natured shrug. "I've always been a late bloomer."
"Have you found your soulmate yet?" Annie chirruped.
"Is he nice?" Laura put in.
"Yes," Petunia replied, drawing back her wrist, "my late husband, Ryan, was very nice."
Laura almost staggered back. Her face dimmed into a polite smile.
"Oh. Cool."
Annie pushed up her glasses, turning back toward the television. "Thanks for showing us, Petunia."
Laura mumbled a thanks as well and joined the others on the floor. She tried not to look back, but as she sat, she caught a glimpse of Larry giving Petunia that sympathetic smile again, as though he had already known all about Petunia's late husband.
Laura pressed her lips together, thinking hard.
Around the part where the animated Moses turned the Nile to blood, Ma Grape appeared at the door to inform them the pizza had arrived. Everyone trooped back to the basement where the dining room had been transformed. Lovey and a few helpers were sprinkling heart-shaped confetti on the tables, while others put down centerpieces of plastic roses or arranged plates and utensils.
With a sharp whistle, Pa gathered the helpers to say grace. With the food blessed, a line formed, threading through the kitchen door.
"What's with you?" Junior asked quietly, nudging Laura. "You feel sick?"
Laura shook her head, touching her chest. "Just thinking."
"Sad stuff?"
"Some of it." She moved her head side to side, trying to express the new notions which sprinted through her mind. "What do you think about soulmate marks?"
Junior made a face. "Who needs that mushy stuff? I'd rather watch cartoons."
"But what about when you grow up?"
"If I get one, I get one. If I don't, I don't." He raised his hands in a shrug. "Either way, the world's not gonna stop turning."
"I guess so." Laura rested her cheek against her knuckle. "Grownups say they're really important though."
"Grownups worry about a lotta silly stuff."
"Doesn't seem silly to me," she said quietly.
Marks only began appearing a few centuries ago, but no one knew why. Laura had heard all kinds of theories from grownups when they thought kids weren't listening; her uncle insisted aliens were responsible, while a neighbor thought the marks were linked to government experiments with radiation in the drinking water. Some people thought it was divine intervention, and others said it was a worldwide mutation.
If it's just a mutation, how can you really be sure your soulmate is actually your soulmate?
Knitting her brow, she surveyed the beautified tables. Mom had said the supper was a healthy way for couples to work on their relationship. Why? Could it be possible that the married couples were bad matches, even with their marks?
She nudged Junior. "What would you do if your soulmate died after you got married? Or if they died before you even met them?"
"Huh." Although he said he didn't like mushy stuff, the novelty of Laura's line of thought seemed to intrigue him. "Well… my grandpa died a few years ago. Granny's been alone ever since."
"Is she very sad now?"
"She's always okay when I visit her," Junior informed her, "but I know she misses Grandpa a lot."
"But what if your grandpa died before they met?"
Junior gave her a deadpan look. "Then I wouldn't be here, Laura."
"Exactly, Junior," Laura replied, lacing her fingers. "If your grandparents didn't get married, then your parents couldn't get married, right? What if your mom couldn't get married because your dad wasn't born, or the other way around? Then what happens?"
"Whoa." Junior lifted his yellow baseball cap and scratched his head, threading his fingers into his thick curls. "I've sometimes wondered what would happen if your soulmate was, like, a supervillain or a bank robber. What if you got stuck with somebody who is really mean and yells a lot?"
"Huh." Laura pursed her lips.
People on TV always said your soulmate was perfect for you: once you found them, you would never have to worry about getting hurt or getting divorced. Yet Laura's dad helped out with the prison ministry, so people still hurt other people, regardless of their marital status. What if Laura's soulmate turned out to be an inmate?
"I don't think I'd like that," Laura admitted, "but if it's your soulmate, you have no choice."
"That's an awful serious discussion you kids are having," said the person behind her.
Laura and Junior both looked back. Bob and Larry were both in line, watching the two kids with bemused expressions.
"You guys have years and years before you have to think about that stuff," Larry pointed out. "Just enjoy being kids."
Laura exhaled, lifting her hands. "But I don't want to marry a criminal! What if I don't have a choice?"
"You always have a choice," Bob assured her.
"Not if we have matching marks," Laura retorted. "Don't you have a mark, Bob?"
"Well, yes." Bob cleared his throat, fiddling with the watch peeking out beneath his sleeve. Most adults in their church didn't show off their marks for some strange reason (though Laura thought it would save a lot of time if they did). Even so, Laura already knew from Splash Day that Bob had a round mark, almost like a tomato or a berry.
"And what if something happened to your soulmate before you could meet her?" Laura challenged, rising up on her tiptoes. "Like, she got in a coma, so you were never able to find her until you're a hundred years old?"
Bob made a slow blink, before he shook his head, recovering his kind smile.
"Everyone wonders about their soulmate at some point," he replied, "but that's not something you have to worry about right now. Like Larry said, just enjoy your childhood. It won't last forever."
"But how can I enjoy being a kid if I have so many unanswered questions about being an adult?"
Bob seemed about to answer, but he turned as someone slipped into line right behind Larry.
"Thanks for saving me a spot," Petunia smiled, touching Larry's arm in a friendly manner. "I was helping Carol Carrot with little Lou."
"Any time," Larry grinned, giving her a thumbs up.
Bob brightened as though with inspiration before he discreetly nudged Laura with his elbow.
"I got a feeling maybe Petunia can answer your questions much better than I can," he whispered. "Wanna ask her?"
Laura's face burned, and she shook her head.
Bob grew sympathetic. "You don't have to be embarrassed talking to her. I know she hasn't been around as long as Larry and me, but she has more experience with this stuff."
Exactly why I don't want to ask. Laura swallowed with shame. How could she question somebody about soulmates when that somebody had already lost her soulmate?
Bob smiled, a little perplexed, and he patted her shoulder in that uncle-like way he showed all the kids. "If you don't want to, you don't have to, but don't you think it's worth a try? Just to give your mind a little peace from all your worries?"
Bob had a point. Laura took a deep breath, summoning her courage, and she thought over what to say. With her shoulders squared, she maneuvered around Bob and Larry, the former who was engaged in conversation with the pretty redhead. Trying not to chicken out, Laura forced herself to clear her throat.
The two grownups stopped talking and looked down at her. Laura dropped her gaze, folding her hands behind her back.
"Petunia, can I ask you something?"
"Of course, Laura," Petunia answered.
Laura shuffled her feet, feeling more embarrassed. "Uh, not here. Can I talk to you over there?"
She pointed to the nearby corner. While Laura didn't have any problem talking in front of Junior or Bob and Larry, it had occurred to her that a grownup lady might feel weird discussing such serious matters in front of them.
Petunia nodded, bewildered.
"No problem." She turned to Larry. "Save my spot?"
"Don't I always?" he grinned.
Petunia exited the line and followed Laura to the corner.
"So, what's up?" Petunia asked.
Laura wiggled her toes inside her pink sneakers. "I, uh, have questions… about… soulmates."
Petunia's blue eyes widened, but she stayed polite. "Would you feel better asking your mother about that?"
Laura attempted to explain. "Well, I don't know if she has the answers because, well, she and Dad are happy. And… my questions are about people who are… unhappy."
Petunia nodded slowly, crooking her index finger against her chin. She seemed to be deciding on how to respond. At last, she smiled, touching Laura's shoulder
"If it's okay with your mother, I'll do my best to answer your questions. Agreed?"
Laura nodded, relieved she wasn't offended. "Agreed."
After they got their slices, Laura and Petunia found Mom and explained the situation. Mom seemed surprised at first, but she agreed, and the three of them found spots at one of the back tables.
As she pulled out her chair, Laura caught sight of Larry still over by the kitchen door, looking their way. He seemed like he wanted to cross over to them, but then he quickly turned and joined Bob and Junior at another table.
Settled in her seat between Mom and Petunia, Laura laid out all the worrisome scenarios which she had been concocting over the past fifteen minutes, and she added a few more, which occurred to her rapidly as she spoke.
"What if you really love your pet cat, but your soulmate is allergic?" she rambled, feeling more desperate. "Do you have to get rid of your precious kitty because your soulmate can't live with him? Or what if you've always wanted to go to Paris, but your soulmate hates traveling and refuses to go with you?"
Petunia listened in a respectful silence, looking like she took Laura's objections and concerns seriously. When Laura finished, Petunia touched her chin, thoughtful.
After a few moments of deliberation, she said, "Laura, did people in the Bible have marks?"
Laura shook her head. "People didn't have them back then."
"So, how did they get married?"
Laura shrugged. "I guess… God helped?"
Petunia nodded, leaning her cheek against her hand. "And what do you think about that?"
Laura furrowed her blonde brow. "Well… Adam and Eve were meant to be together."
"I'll say."
"And… Rebekah was meant to be with Isaac. And Mary with Joseph. If marks existed back then, theirs probably would match."
"I would probably agree with you," Petunia smiled. "But what about all the people in the Bible who got remarried?"
Laura looked up in surprise. "Like who?"
"Ruth, for example."
"Oh, that's a good example," Mom spoke up, nodding. "Remember when we were reading about her during our family devotions, Laura?"
"Some of it." Laura shrugged. "She's the lady who stayed with her mother-in-law, right?"
"Right," Petunia answered, sliding her finger along the rim of her plate. A sad smile appeared. "Ruth's story helped me out a lot after my Ryan passed away."
Laura leaned forward, studying her. "It did?"
"Ruth was married to her first husband for ten years," Petunia replied quietly. "The Bible shows she grieved for him after he passed. When she chose to stay with Naomi and moved to her husband's hometown, falling in love again was probably the last thing on her mind. Even so, God took care of Ruth in a time when her soul would have felt torn in two."
"Torn in two," Laura repeated softly, gazing at Petunia in awe.
"When the time was right, God took care of Ruth by providing a second husband who loved her," Petunia continued. "Through Boaz, Ruth became the great-grandmother of King David, as well as an ancestor of Jesus."
"And got a book in the Bible named after her," Mom pointed out.
Petunia nodded. "The fact that Hebrew law had a system in place to help widows shows that God doesn't disapprove of remarriage. He doesn't expect a widow to remain single forever."
"Wow," Laura breathed.
"So, no, you won't be 'stuck' if you lose your soulmate, even before you meet him," Petunia went on.
"And what if I find my future husband, but I don't want to marry him because he's super mean?" Laura asked earnestly.
"You brought up Isaac and Rebekah earlier," Petunia pointed out. "Do you remember what Abraham said to his servant before he sent him to find a bride for Isaac?"
"Not really," Laura admitted.
"The servant (quite reasonably) asked Abraham what he should do if the woman he found didn't want to marry Isaac. Abraham replied that his servant was then free from his oath to find Isaac a bride."
Petunia leaned her chin on her laced fingers, smiling kindly at Laura. "Rebekah was meant to marry Isaac, as God showed the servant, but Rebekah had the choice to stay in her homeland and not get married. If you are unsatisfied with your future husband (though I hope he won't disappoint you, Laura), you can always turn him down until he improves himself, or you can choose to stay single."
Laura felt her heart lighten. "Really?"
"Love is a choice," Petunia answered. "God doesn't force us to love Him, so how can a mere human force you to love against your will?"
"That," Laura brightened, "makes me feel a lot better."
Mom reached over and gave Laura a side hug. "Besides, you have a mommy and a daddy who your future husband has to watch out for if he thinks he can ever harm you, Baby."
Laura leaned against her, smiling with delight. Turning back to Petunia, she said, "Thanks for explaining all that stuff to me."
"Any time." She reached for her pizza slice.
Laura realized her own dinner was still untouched. Her slice had cooled off a little, but it was still tasty. As she chewed, she had a sudden thought.
"Oh, by the way, Petunia," she said, "would you ever marry again?"
"Laura," Mom chided.
Petunia, however, chuckled good-naturedly. "If God has a Boaz lined up for me."
"Would you want a widower?" Laura asked. "Or a guy without a mark, like Larry?"
"Whoever God has for me," Petunia affirmed calmly, but her complexion grew pink.
Guess Larry has a chance after all, Laura reasoned, smirking as she turned her attention to her cooled-off pizza slice.
THE END
A/N: I am by no means an expert on soulmate AUs, but I wanted to try my hand, since I like speculative fiction. I added the bit about marks only appearing a few centuries ago because I didn't want to do anything that adds to or alters Scripture in this universe. I also didn't want to change recent human history too much. Imagine how the world would be different if Henry VIII had a mark and didn't have 6 wives, for example.