“Of course. You are my responsibility, Abigail. And if children come, they will be too. I would never ignore the existence of my own child, and I would also never separate him from his mother. You would therefore both come with me.”
“Of course.” She said no more and was glad when he, too, kept silent. The possibility of being taken from the home she had grown up in, away from the only people who had loved her since the death of her own mother . . . . She would not think about it. Surely he would tire of her soon. She would be content with today’s troubles and not borrow any from tomorrow. That was what Andrew would have told her to do.
*
Ester did not attempt to hide her turmoil from her maid. Instead, as the daily routine was reinstated after the short reprieve and the men were off to the day’s work, she drew her friend onto the couch beside her and let out a laborious sigh.
“I simply know not what to think of it all.” She focused her eyes on the ceiling. “I watched him heal a blind man, Abigail. Just a simple touch, and the man could see. And this Jesus himself.” She interrupted herself with another sigh. “He looked like any other man. But his words, Abigail–his lessons were sound, but then a man asked him a question obviously meant to make him stumble, and do you know what he did?”
Abigail arched her brows in question.
“He said, ‘Beware the poison of the Pharisees, for they seek glory for themselves at the cost of their souls. They speak the Law and live for their own whims.’”
Abigail made no reply, but Ester shook her head. Resentment clouded her vision. “My father was a Pharisee. Does that necessarily make him a bad man? A selfish one?”
“No, my lady.” Abigail’s quiet voice cut through her temper. “But he is a perfect example of a man who thought more of his own position and the reflections upon it than of love for his child, is he not?”
Ester froze, shocked that the girl would stick up for her even against her own words. “Perhaps. But many men would do the same.”
“And perhaps that is so because men see their leaders doing it. If a man’s heart is not obedient to the Law, does it matter that his lips are?”
“‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, and strength,’” Ester quoted softly. “You are right. But who is he to see into the hearts of man? To judge whether they are obeying in deeds only, or also in their souls?” She shook her head almost mournfully. “It is easy to condemn those who despise you.”
Abigail smiled, took and squeezed Ester’s hand. “Yes, my lady. Just as it is easy to despise those who condemn you. Perhaps we should judge neither side.”
Ester returned the smile. But in her mind, the question was far from settled.
*
The walk home felt long, given how Cleopas’s thoughts thudded with each step.The teacher’s words still echoed inside him. They appealed to him in a place within himself that had never been touched before. He wanted to believe. But doing so would mean setting himself apart from his friends, his colleagues, and possibly his family.
But he knew. Deep within, he knew that he did believe, he was just unwilling to profess that right now. He would contemplate more, he would weigh his options, he would speak gently and at length to his wife and son.
He glanced over to Jason, then behind him to Andrew. The younger men had made a study of ignoring one another as much as possible, and Cleopas was alternately amused and irritated by the obvious displays of possession of Abigail. He often wondered how they would both react if he simply informed them that neither would ever have her as completely as they both wished. But he knew it was true. With Jason, she would never have a complete trust or equality, and with Andrew she would always feel a shame for having been with Jason first. Neither could win. Neither would want to hear him say it, either, so he would not waste his breath.
They neared the house, and the sound of two sweet voices floated to them on the breeze. Cleopas looked discreetly at his companions, searching for something he was distressed at not finding. Both had an expression of rapt desire in their eyes, but in neither was it the selfless joy that he felt when he heard Ester’s voice. In neither did he see a willingness to sacrifice his own wishes in order to make the woman he wished for happy.
Suddenly weary, Cleopas sighed and let the music wash over him. No matter what he did now or could have done in the past, he could not make these people he cared about happy. It was not within him, it was not his place. He may have been the father, the master, but he had no control anymore over the contentment of those who lived under his roof. It was not his fault, and it was unchangeable. But still, it made him feel a bit less worthwhile than he was accustomed to feeling.
Drawing in a deep breath and willing the peaceful words of the psalm into his soul, he decided to put it from his mind. His son was a man who had and would make his own decisions. Andrew, even if a slave, was also a man, who resented when his were taken from him. Trying to interfere would be futile. He blinked in decision and resigned himself to that fact.
*