Paul’s mother looked at her husband with a faint smile. “I wouldn’t advise it.”
“I was asked to say a few words about what it was like to be your son.”
“Whose idea was that?” He looked at his wife. “Yours, Lois?”
“You can trust Paul to be kind, David.” She crossed her legs and smoothed her skirt over her knees. “I thought it might be good if your son spoke for you.”
Paul wasn’t about to admit it had taken him three days to write a five-minute speech—and hours of recounting how many times his father had hurt him. What honor would result from his telling the whole truth? “I’m going to tell them that I grew up seeing firsthand the devotion it took to build a church. Anyone who knows you has seen your passion for the ministry—and your dedication to your calling. I hope to follow in your foot-steps.” David Hudson had dedicated his life to the church, and that’s what Paul intended to tell the audience waiting to wish him a fond farewell.
“Well, let’s hope you come out better in the deal than I have.”
Paul was stunned. “I think you’ve done all right for yourself, Dad.”
His mother laughed. “Indeed he has. And he would be the first to tell you how God has blessed him.”
The door opened. “We’re ready for you, David.”
“Thank you.” His father headed for the door and then paused, looking at his wife.
“Lois,” the man said respectfully and gave her a nod before stepping back into the corridor.
“It’s time, Lois.”
“Yes, it is time. High time.” She sat looking up at him, her expression enigmatic.
Eunice blushed and looked at Paul uneasily.
“Dad?” Paul had never seen his father look vulnerable or uncertain, and it shook him. “What’s going on here?”
“Nothing that should concern you.” He held out his hand to his wife. “Lois . . . ”
“For the last few years, I’ve been on the sidelines watching the game, David. And now you want me by your side.” She pressed her lips together. “This is your evening. You’re the one they all came to see. You go on out there and receive your just reward.” Her dark eyes glistened with tears. She shook her head.
He paled. “Please, Lois.”
A look of anguish filled her eyes. She shut them tightly for a moment and then rose gracefully. “On with the show.” She tucked her hand into the crook of David’s arm and walked out the door with him.
Paul put his hand on Tim’s shoulder. “You’re with us, Son. Stick close.” He leaned toward Eunice. “Would you please smile? You look like you’re going to a funeral.”
“Has your father talked to you about why he’s retiring?”
“He said he was tired and needed a rest. And he wanted to spend more time with Mom.”
“Well, that’s good,” she said in an odd tone before following the usher.
Two more dark-suited ushers were waiting for them at the double doors that opened into the church’s gymnasium. Paul heard the low rumble of a large crowd and soft music from a string quartet.
“Dr. Hudson, Pastor Wheeler will be here in just a moment to escort you and Lois to the head table. I’ll show your son and his family to their table. They’ll be right in front of the podium. We have a beautiful evening planned for you. We hope you’ll enjoy it.” His smile was faint and cool. “Joseph will speak first, and then dinner will be served. As soon as the dessert is served, the program will start. Several of our associate pastors will say a few words, and then your son will speak. Five minutes,” he said, looking at Paul. “Whatever you say will act as an introduction to a video the staff put together to sum up your father’s career. We’ve planned special music at the end, and then it’s over.”
“It’s over.” He made it sound like an ordeal to get through rather than a celebration of a man’s life.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” someone said into a microphone, and the crowd quieted to a low hum. “Please welcome Dr. and Mrs. David Hudson.” As the doors opened and Paul’s mother and father stepped forward, a man stood waiting for them. People began to rise from their seats and clap as his parents were escorted to the front of the gymnasium, where a dais and long head table had been set up. Soon the entire congregation was on its feet. The applause was thunderous.
Paul and Eunice, with Timmy between them, were escorted to their table. The applause continued even after his father and mother had reached their seats. And still the applause went on as his father seated his mother. His father sat for a few seconds and then rose as though embarrassed by the adoration and praise, and spread his hands and nodded and gestured for everyone to be seated. Paul’s mother tugged on his jacket and he sat again, and the rest of those standing at the head table sat as well.
Jealousy raged inside Paul. Would there ever come a day when his congregation would hold him in such high esteem? Damask tablecloths, fine china, silverware, and real crystal goblets, a floral centerpiece that wasn’t out of someone’s garden. The cost of his father’s retirement send-off would wipe out Centerville Christian’s entire budget for two years. Paul felt small and insignificant.
Joseph stepped to the microphone. Chairs scraped as people took their seats. He opened in prayer, calling upon all present to give thanks to the Lord for their many blessings. Then he spoke briefly about the evening’s program.
As the evening progressed, Paul became more aware of his father’s tension. His father said little to the man on his right, and he rubbed his fingers back and forth on the tablecloth until Paul’s mother put her hand over his. When he raised her hand and kissed it, Paul was shocked. He’d never seen him do anything like that before. His mother snatched her hand away and folded both hands in her lap before returning her attention to the salad that had been placed before her. Neither of his parents seemed to have much appetite.
Nor did he. His palms were sweating. Everything he had planned to say went out of his head. His heart pounded. His stomach churned. The only time his father had shown interest in him was when Paul disappointed him. And that had been often when he was a boy. His grades weren’t high enough. He wasn’t athletic enough. He dressed inappropriately. His hair was too long. He was a mama’s boy. It was true that his father had dedicated his energies to building this church, but he had done it at the expense of a son who had wanted nothing more than to please him and make him proud.
“Paul?” Eunice put her hand on his leg.
She always sensed when something was bothering him. This time, he was relieved. “Things aren’t right between my mother and father. I can’t put my finger on it. And I’m not sure what I planned to say suits the occasion. Pray the Lord gives me the words, honey. Pray hard.”
She took his hand and squeezed it. “The leadership is shifting the attention away from your father and putting it on the Lord and His work. That’s good, Paul. That’s as it should be.”
“Look at my father’s face.”
“Focus on the Lord, Paul. If you look at the program, you’ll see that the whole intention is to take the focus off your father and put it on Jesus Christ.”
She was right. Had it been his father’s idea to shift the spotlight? It seemed out of character, but appropriate. His retirement could change the direction of the whole ministry here. The program must have been designed to reassure his father that his work for the Lord would continue. His ministry would continue long after he left.
The salad plates were removed and beef Wellington served, followed by chocolate mousse for dessert.
Paul could hardly swallow any of it. Lord, give me the words You want me to speak.
Joseph Wheeler stood and introduced Paul. Paul rose, took the microphone, and faced the multitude. He hesitated for only a few seconds and spoke in love of the respect he had for his father as he watched him dedicate his life to the church. He encouraged everyone present to nurture faith in their sons and daughters, prompting them to follow the Lord wholeheartedly, for that would be pleasing to Him. When he took h
is seat, he looked up at the head table. His mother was smiling, tears streaming down her cheeks, but his father was looking up at the screen as the lights were dimming and the video encapsulating his ministry was starting.
Eunice took Paul’s hand beneath the table and leaned toward him. “That was perfect, Paul. You couldn’t have said anything better.”
A pity his father wasn’t satisfied.
Eunice knew her father-in-law had said something to Paul before leaving the church because Paul said a curt goodnight that included the whole family before heading downstairs to the spacious guest suite in his parents’ North Hollywood Hills luxury home. Tim headed for the bathroom.
Lois let out her breath. “What did you say to your son this time, David?”
“Nothing that should put him in a childish snit.” He loosened his tie and headed for the master bedroom.
“Maybe you should talk to Paul and see if he’s all right,” Lois told Eunice. “You can tell him I’m proud of him.”
Lois met Tim halfway down the hallway. “How would you like to watch a movie with Granny in the den? Have you ever seen Ben-Hur? You’ll love the chariot race. We can have popcorn and hot cocoa.”
Eunice opened the guest-suite door and saw the suitcase on the bed. Paul came out of the closet with an armload of his clothes. She closed the door behind her and crossed the room. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like? I’m packing.”
“Paul, we can’t leave.”
“That’s what you think!”
“How will your mother feel?”
“She’ll understand.”
“But, Paul, you said we would be staying until Friday.”
“You stay. I’m going back to Centerville. You can tell them something came up. I have work to do. That’s the truth.”
“I take it you and your father had words after the banquet.”
He gave a hard laugh. “Just enough to make me want to get out of here as fast as I can. I shouldn’t have said anything. I shouldn’t have come.”
“What did he say, Paul?”
“He said he expected more from his son than a paltry tribute to father-hood any first-year seminary student could write in five minutes.”
“And what would have pleased him? To say the ministry will fall apart without him? God willing, it won’t.” She stepped toward him. “We can’t leave, Paul. This is the first family vacation we’ve had since you took the pulpit in Centerville. Six years, Paul. We promised to take Timmy to Disneyland and Universal Studios. What about all that talk about Zuma Beach and La Brea Tar Pits and all the other places your mother took you when you were a boy? It’s not fair to him.”
“He’ll get over it.” His back was to her as he yanked open another drawer.
“When are you going to stop living your life to please your father?”
He stopped packing long enough to glare at her. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!” He dumped some shirts into the suitcase.
Eunice was so angry, she was shaking. She knew exactly what would happen if he went through with this. “If you leave tomorrow morning, your father is going to say you tucked tail and ran.”
He turned so sharply, she didn’t know what he meant to do. She fell back more in shock than from the slap across her face. She put her hand over her stinging cheek and stared at him, horrified. When he took a step toward her, she stepped back. “Euny,” he said, his face ashen.
Her heart was thundering. “Sometimes I wonder if I know you at all.”
“I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely. He sat on the bed, his shoulders hunched, and wept.
She ran a trembling hand through his hair as she did to Timmy when he was deeply upset. Usually over something his father had done—or not done. “Paul, your father was upset tonight and he took it out on you.”
He took her hand. “Will you forgive me?”
“I already have.”
“How is it possible to love someone so much and hate him at the same time? My father makes me crazy!”
Was that an excuse for what Paul had done to her? “Your father will have a lot to answer for, Paul.” She couldn’t say any more than that without breaking confidence with Lois. No matter what she knew about her father-in-law, she had no right to condemn him, or try to assassinate him in the eyes of his son. The truth would have to come from his father or Lois. And if not from either of them, Eunice prayed that He Himself would make the truth known to Paul, and his father would cease to be his idol.
She sat on the bed beside her husband. “You asked me to pray for you, Paul. And I did. I prayed with all my heart and soul that you would speak God’s words. You prayed, too. And you said what the Lord gave you to say.” She took his hand between hers. “The Lord is pleased, Paul, even if your father isn’t.”
“I felt certain God was speaking those words through me, Euny. So certain. I haven’t felt that good in a long time.”
Oh, Lord, let him see clearly how lost he’s been. Let this be the time. Please.
“Sometimes I think my father cuts me down deliberately. There’s always been something between us that agitates him.” His eyes were filled with anguish. “There’s something in me that sets him off.”
Lord, please, Your words not mine. Let Paul hear the truth with love. “Sometimes things aren’t as they seem, Paul.”
“What do you mean?”
Her heart fluttered as her nerves tightened. Let my motivation be pure, Lord. “Just because a man says he’s a Christian doesn’t mean he is one. Even if he is standing in a pulpit.”
He stared at her, searching her eyes for a few seconds, and then he let go of her hand. “Are you saying what I think you are?”
The anger was back in his voice. So be it. “We can’t know your father’s heart, Paul. But we can see what fruit is being produced.”
He rose. “You’ve got it wrong, Eunice. It’s unbelievable how wrong you are.”
Paul was only a foot from her, but she felt the growing distance in her heart. Even while he looked down on her, she felt he’d turned his back on her. “I hope so, Paul.”
“How could you even think my father isn’t a Christian? Look at what he’s built for the Lord. Did you see the hundreds of people in that hall? They were all there to say thanks for his years of service. Did you hear what they were saying to him when they came through the receiving line? They couldn’t thank him enough for all he’s done for them! If not for him, they never would have received the gospel! Some wept!”
Eunice wondered how he could be so easily swayed. He’d studied the Bible even more than she had. It was God, not David Hudson, who softened hearts. It was the Word of God, Christ Jesus, who saved. It was by His death those people were redeemed. All through the centuries there had been men who had proclaimed the gospel for their own gain. And God had used even them to accomplish His good purpose. David Hudson had never saved a single soul in his entire life, nor would he. She wanted to cry out against the man who had ridden Paul all his life, the man who could crush him with a few words or a look, and whose favor Paul was so desperate to win. But what was the use? She had only to look into her husband’s eyes to see he wasn’t ready to listen.
Weary, frustrated, hurt, she stood. “You do and think as you will, Paul.” She walked to the bedroom door.
“I suppose you’re going to go whine to my mother now about what a lousy husband and father I am.”
Hand on the doorknob, she turned and looked back at him. Did he really think so little of her? Or did he just say things to hurt her the same way his father said hurtful things to him? “I’m going to go downstairs and sit with Timmy and Mom and watch Ben-Hur.”
She would leave Paul alone to sulk by himself.
When Eunice came to bed late that night, Paul pulled her into his arms and apologized again. Everything seemed right between them—more right than it had been in months—until she awakened in the morning and found herself alone in bed. She sat up quickly, and was relieved
to see Paul’s suit, slacks, and shirts on hangers in the closet and his suitcase in the corner next to hers. The clock on the bedside table said seven.
Pushing back the comforter, she slipped her feet into her slippers. Pulling on her pink chenille robe, she went to check on Timmy in the upstairs guest room. On the way past the den, she saw Lois, dressed in black slacks, a white blouse, and a hip-length purple sweater, closing up the sofa bed. “I thought I should get up before Paul or Tim knew I was sleeping in here.”
The master bedroom door was closed.
“Paul and Dad must be in the kitchen having coffee.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then Paul’s probably out for a run.”
“So he’s still jogging.”
“Not as often as he’d like.”
Lois smiled. “He lettered in track in high school. He won so many sprints a scout came to talk with him about training for the Olympics.”
“Why didn’t he?”
“God called him into the ministry.”
The kitchen was full of Southern California sunshine. Lois had decorated in blue, white, and yellow. Eunice sat at the breakfast bar while Lois ground coffee beans, poured the fresh grounds into a filter, and slipped the holder into place on the coffeemaker. “What was bothering Paul last night?” She poured in the water. “He did so well at the banquet.”
Eunice shrugged. She didn’t want to say anything about Paul. “Dad must be enjoying his first day of retirement. He doesn’t usually sleep in.”
“He’s up and gone just like Paul. I closed the door to the master bedroom because I haven’t had the chance to make the bed yet.” Lois gave her a dry smile. “He went out to play golf at Lakeside.”
“Oh. Well, maybe Paul is with him.”
“No,” Lois said, looking out the kitchen window. “He’s just coming in now.”
The front door opened and closed. Paul came into the kitchen in sweatpants and a sleeveless T-shirt, his sandy hair dark with sweat. “Good morning, ladies!” He kissed Eunice and then kissed his mother’s cheek. Opening the refrigerator, he took out the orange juice, found a glass, and filled it. Still puffing, he raised it in salute. “Cheers!” He emptied it and put the glass in the sink.