“All right, Marcail,” Helen said with a determined look in her eye, “sing us a song in a foreign language.”
“Oh, Mother,” and “Oh, Grandma,” were the sounds around the room. Marcail looked surprised at everyone’s reaction until Susan spoke.
“That’s mother’s favorite question, Marcail. She’s been asking it for years, and no one has ever done it.”
Marcail’s face was neither mischievous nor triumphant. The look she gave her mother-in-law was tender as she began to sing a Hawaiian lullaby she’d learned in the Islands. Her voice was high and pure and sweet, and the room was utterly still even after she was finished.
The room remained silent as Skip, Alex, and Hannah stood and gave all their sticks to the newest member of the family. Marcail’s eyes filled with tears over such a lovely display of love and acceptance.
The room’s silence was shattered as each family member erupted with questions. Alex found himself thanking God that he’d found out that morning where his wife had been born. He stayed quiet while the family questioned her and learned quite a bit about where she’d grown up. Some 20 minutes later Alex noticed her fatigue but wasn’t sure how to get her out of the room without embarrassment. Thankfully his father noticed also.
“I think maybe the rest of these questions can wait until tomorrow at Al’s party.”
No one argued, since the next day was Sunday and all had yet to bathe their families. After everyone cleared out, Marcail thought how nice it would be to wash her hair, but she decided she was just too tired to make the effort.
“Want me to fix a bath for you?” Alex offered sweetly after they’d bid Samuel and Helen good night.
“It sounds wonderful, but I don’t think I have the energy.”
Alex nodded with understanding and silent agreement, thinking she could always bathe in the morning. He didn’t mention that she could sleep late if she needed to, and probably would if he woke her in the night like he planned to do. It would be nice to see Pastor Cook and introduce her to his church family, but Marcail’s health was more important.
As he waited in the hall, he realized his wife had admitted to him that she was tired. For her to admit even that spoke of how far they’d come in a few weeks. The fear was diminishing, and as Alex waited for his wife to ready for bed, he praised God for that.
thirty-seven
“It’s dark outside, Alex! What time is it?” Marcail asked with sleepy dismay when her eyes finally adjusted to the light of the lantern.
“A little after midnight, I think.”
“Why did you wake me?”
“Because I don’t take chances with head injuries,” he said as he pulled her into a sitting position on the side of the bed. It had been a chore to wake her from her nap the day before, but he found it nearly impossible in the middle of the night. Then he remembered the cool washcloth he’d used on her face earlier. It did the trick.
“I still don’t understand why you woke me,” Marcail scowled, swaying just a bit on the edge of the bed.
Alex put a hand out to steady her and explained, “People who get hit in the head as hard as you did have a tendency to go to sleep and not wake up. And since I’d like to do everything I can to have you around as long as the Lord wills, I woke you.”
Marcail’s brow lowered, and her tone was grumpy, “If I’d known what kind of a noisy roommate you were going to be, I’d have sent you across the hall on the first night!”
Alex smiled with amusement, but also relief. If she was feisty, she was going to be all right.
“I suppose,” Marcail went on, her voice just as cross, “that you want to know my mother’s maiden name or something equally as silly to see if I really know who I am. Well, I know exactly who I am! I’m a woman who’s considering leaving her husband if he doesn’t let her go back to sleep!”
Alex laughed outright at this, but he was also wise enough to listen to her. Within minutes she was tucked securely back beneath the covers and on her way to sleep.
Alex took a little longer to find his own rest. His mind dwelt on this unusual marriage in which he found himself. How did a man who’d been married for several years, widowed, and then married again, keep from touching his new wife? How did a man share a bed with his wife and manage to keep his distance, even though he found her desirable?
It had to be the Lord, Alex concluded. He knew himself to be a man like any other, with God-given desires. But God had also given him a wife who needed special nurturing at this time, and for that God’s sustaining strength was proving to be more than sufficient.
As though the Lord spoke to him, Alex suddenly remembered Joseph from the New Testament, a man who’d married the woman he loved when she was carrying the Son of God. The angel had not told Joseph he could not touch Mary, but he chose to keep her a virgin until after the baby was born.
Alex was not trying to be blasphemous by comparing himself and Marcail to Joseph and Mary, but thinking of Joseph was an encouragement to him. Of course Joseph had known that the pregnancy would come to an end, whereas Alex had no such guarantee. Still, Joseph had been God’s man for the job, and God had blessed him.
Alex rolled onto his side to see the woman lying next to him. The moonlight came through the window and illumined just a part of her face, but Alex didn’t need the light to know how lovely she was.
“I love you, Marcail,” he whispered, knowing she would not hear. “And I pray that someday you’ll love me too.” Alex slept then, but not before he asked God to let that day be soon.
When Alex woke again it was light outside. He’d intended to wake Marcail one more time before morning, but his body must have had other ideas.
Alex padded downstairs, barefoot and without a shirt, to find his father having breakfast in the kitchen. He knew his mother would still be sleeping. His father was ready for church, but had time before he needed to leave. Alex joined him.
“Good morning,” Samuel greeted his youngest son.
“Morning,” Alex returned as he poured himself a cup of coffee.
“Did I hear you up last night?”
“That you did. Sorry we disturbed you.”
“No problem. I take it you woke Marcail to see if she was all right?”
“Right. She got hit pretty hard, and I wanted to be sure.”
“How is she?”
“If feisty is any indication, she’s in perfect health.”
Samuel looked confused. “Marcail doesn’t strike me as the feisty type.”
“You’ve never woken her from a sound sleep. She all but told me if I didn’t leave her alone, I could sleep across the hall.”
Samuel laughed. “With as hard as you tell me she sleeps, I’m surprised you could rouse her.”
“It wasn’t easy, but at least it gave me peace of mind. I was going to wake her again before morning, but I slept through.”
“I’m sure she’s all right. She was pretty chipper last night until the end of the game, and then through the family’s interrogation.”
Alex smiled. “Have you noticed that when she’s comfortable with you, she shows every emotion on her face?”
“Your mother and I find her as guileless as a child,” Samuel commented.
“That she is.”
“You know, Al,” Samuel went on, “everytime we’ve talked this weekend, it’s been about Marcail. Your mother and I both wonder how you are doing.”
“I’m doing just fine,” Alex assured his father. “Physically I’m in good shape, spiritually I’m learning to trust God in a brand new way, and emotionally, well, let’s just say I’m getting there.”
Samuel, who’d risen to retrieve the coffeepot, patted his son on the shoulder and thanked him for his assurance. “If you don’t get a chance to talk with your mother alone before you go tomorrow, I’ll tell her you’re doing well. It will put her mind at ease.”
“Have the two of you really been worried?”
Samuel smiled and then chuckled. “Not worried exa
ctly, but try to realize, Al, that we’ve never seen you this way before. You and Linette were like brother and sister, and you didn’t really have a courtship, just a wedding. But now, well now you have this look of delight on your face most of the time. If Marcail is in the room, you can’t keep your eyes off her.”
Samuel laughed at the dumbfounded look on his son’s face. “I’ve got to get to church early today. If Marcail sleeps late enough, the two of you can breakfast with Mother.”
Alex silently watched his dad leave. He realized that if his family could see his love for Marcail, then quite possibly it would be just a matter of time before Marcail could see it herself.
thirty-eight
“I can see you’re feeling much better,” Helen told her daughter-in-law as they breakfasted in her room.
“Yes,” Marcail said with relief. “I feel like I’m back to my old self.” It was 10:30, and Marcail had just had her bath. She was now having breakfast with Alex and his mother.
“Well, that’s wonderful. I’m sorry you’ll miss church, but your health is more important.”
“If your pastor is anything like ours, I haven’t missed a thing,” Marcail said as she set her coffee cup down. Instantly she regretted her words. “I’m sorry,” Marcail apologized. “That was completely uncalled for.”
“That’s all right, dear,” Helen assured her. “Alex has talked with us about your church situation.”
Wishing that Alex had talked with her, Marcail remained silent. The state of their church concerned her deeply, but she hadn’t as yet been comfortable enough with anyone to bring up the matter.
“I take it you’re accustomed to solid Bible teaching,” Helen mused, beginning the conversation again.
“I guess I’ve been spoiled no matter where I’ve lived. In Santa Rosa, Pastor Keller never minced words over the fact that Jesus Christ is the Son of God and the Bible is the Word of God. Then in Visalia, my father was my pastor. He never leaves doubt in anyone’s mind that Jesus alone can save us from our sins and give us a fulfilled life on this earth.
“Pastor Zimler doesn’t even mention any of those truths. I fear for him, since the Bible speaks about how seriously God takes positions of leadership. He leads an entire church of people down a rosy path of lies week in and week out. He stands in the pulpit and tells us that if we try hard and do good, God will remember our good works when we die.
“Well, heaven is God’s home,” Marcail said, really in her element now. She sounded just like a teacher. “And He alone dictates how you come to that home—through His Son. Woe be to the man who preaches otherwise.”
Alex and Helen couldn’t have agreed with her more. They continued to discuss the Willits church for some time, until Alex made a comment that nearly brought Marcail out of her chair.
Alex stated sadly, “That’s the way it is when the pastor of the only church in town sits in the pocket of the richest woman in residence.”
“What did you say?” Marcail asked in shock.
Alex repeated himself, and Marcail gawked at him. Of course! It was all so clear now. The pastor was just preaching what he was told to preach!
“Alex,” Marcail’s voice was pained, “such a thing never occurred to me.”
Alex’s look was compassionate. “It’s not very pretty, is it? But Marcail, we’re going to keep praying, praying that more than three or four men will come forward and say they’ve had enough. I’d rather we go without a preacher than go on as we are now.”
“Alex,” Marcail suddenly wondered aloud, “how did the different families in town come to Christ in the first place?”
“Pastor Zimler has only been there for about three years,” Alex explained. “Dick Peik, the man in the pulpit before him, was a man of God. Both on Sunday and Wednesday nights, he taught us how to know God and glorify Him in our lives. He was only in Willits for 18 months, but his effect can still be felt.”
“That encourages me, Alex,” Marcail said, soft determination in her voice. “God has not turned His back on Willits. Since I believe He’s put me there and given me a love for the people, I also believe He will use me to further the news that His Son is the Light in this world.”
Both Alex and Helen were so moved by Marcail’s obvious burden that no one spoke for a time. Breakfast was finished in silence, each wrapped momentarily in his own thoughts.
“You mean, you don’t include your mother in your birthday lunch?”
“It was her idea that we go to the beach,” Alex defended himself. “She will be included in the gift-opening, which is always in her room. Honestly, Marcail, she doesn’t feel excluded.”
Marcail’s fierce look softened. She’d quite simply fallen in love with her mother-in-law, and the emotions she felt were making her very protective.
The day was unseasonably warm, and Marcail had to admit that it was perfect for the beach. The cool temperatures from the day before had not kept her from enjoying herself when she went with Alex, but it was going to be nice to leave her coat behind.
Everyone brought quilts to sit on and food to eat. It looked like a feast to Marcail. Meat sandwiches, bread and butter, apples and cheese were passed to all waiting hands. Cups of water were dispersed to quench everyone’s thirst.
After Jeremy said grace the talk was light and fun, and for some reason, Alex’s family was bent on teasing him. It went on for some time before Skip accused Alex of killing off more patients than he cured. There were a few teaspoons of water left in Alex’s cup, and without warning he tossed the contents at his oldest brother.
Skip ducked, and Marcail got it right in the face. There were cries of outrage from the women and laughter from the men, including Alex.
“I’m sorry, Marcail,” he chuckled. “I was aiming for Skip.”
Marcail was silent as Alex passed her his handkerchief. She wiped her face and then without taking her eyes from her husband, she sat swirling the water in her own cup, one that had just been filled.
“Now, Marcail,” Alex began placatingly, immediately seeing her intent. “You have to admit it was an accident. I meant it for Skip, and it was only a few drops.”
When all she did was grin mischievously, Alex resorted to a threat.
“I’ll get you back if you do it, Marc.”
“What will you do?”
“I just might throw you in the Pacific,” Alex said, knowing he’d never do such a thing.
“You’d have to catch me first,” Marcail said with sweet confidence, and the entire family erupted with laughter and catcalls.
When the noise died down, Alex’s look was nothing short of condescending. “I don’t think that would be a problem.”
The narrowing of Marcail’s eyes told him in an instant that he’d said the wrong thing, but his brain told him to move a moment too late. Before he could take a breath, Marcail had thrown the entire contents of the cup in his face. Staying on the blanket just long enough to enjoy the stunned look on his face, Marcail jumped to her feet and ran down the beach.
The shouts from the family told Marcail that Alex was after her, but she didn’t look back as she made fast tracks away from her wet husband.
“Go, Marcail, go,” came a woman’s voice.
“She’s not very submissive, Alex. You’d better do something about that when you catch her.” This time it was Skip.
“Use every trick in the book, Marcail. Don’t hesitate to bite him,” Susan shouted as Marcail ran on.
The sounds of the family faded, and Marcail’s feet pounded the sand. Alex, who was just beginning to wind, wondered why it wasn’t a requirement that a man know all about his wife before he married her. Why were the vows said before he knew that she could sing in a foreign language or run like the wind down a sandy beach?
Marcail spotted a huge fallen tree and darted around the far side of it. She paused, ready to go again if Alex was still bent on pursuit, but as she hoped, he came up on the other side and stood, breathing hard and staring at her. A bit winded her
self, Marcail knew she had more in her if needed.
“Where,” Alex said on a gasp, “did you learn to run like that?”
“I’m not approaching the advanced age of 31, like a certain elderly husband I know.”
Alex’s eyes narrowed. “You’re already in hot water, and now you’re pushing your luck.” Alex dropped to the sand and leaned his back against the huge log. Marcail stared for a moment at the back of his head before deciding the danger was over. She rounded the log and dropped to her knees beside her husband.
Her legs had no more hit the sand when Alex hauled her across his lap. Marcail’s eyes showed her shock, but Alex only smiled triumphantly. He bent his head and wiped his wet cheek against her own.
“Oh, stop it, Alex!” Marcail laughingly wailed. “You’re getting me all wet.”
“That’s the point.” He spoke with amusement as he covered both sides of her face with the moisture from his own.
As swiftly as the laughter had come, it subsided. Marcail found Alex’s mouth so close to her own she could feel his warm breath on her cheek. Alex hesitated a mere heartbeat before his lips touched down on her’s.
It was the first time he’d kissed her squarely on the mouth, and it wasn’t a brief kiss. In fact, Alex held Marcail tenderly and kissed her for several minutes. But he also succeeded in holding his emotions in check, causing her to feel cherished, not frightened.
Back at the quilts, both Jess and Cole asked if they could go find Uncle Alex and Aunt Marcail. Their father said no, and when asked why, he told them that someday they would understand.
thirty-nine
After the gifts were opened and the cake eaten, Alex’s family hugged Alex and Marcail goodbye, telling them to come again soon. The day had been a wonderful celebration, but Marcail found it lovely to have a quiet supper with just Samuel and Helen. Since they would see only Samuel in the morning, they said their goodbyes to Helen before bed.