It’s finally Bible study night!
Steven agreed to bring me, but only after I cornered him in the hallway at work and started to cry.
“I haven’t been ignoring you!” he insisted. “I’ve been busy, that’s all.”
Busy making me feel like worthless crap.
Anyway, my pleading worked its magic. I expressed regret for whatever imaginary infraction I’d committed, and now he can be nice to me again.
“Can I spend the night?” I asked in a quavering voice, and a pleased smile spread over his face.
“Of course you can spend the night, babe. And we can grab dinner on the drive out.”
I’m back in his good graces.
Dinner was deli sandwiches eaten in a hurry, and Steven’s breath smells like raw onions now, but I still feel like a princess as I hop out of his SUV and glide toward the big glass doors of the church. It’s drizzling and miserable, and I take that as a good sign.
Once we’re inside, I remove my bulky coat and unwind my scarf to expose my pink flowery dress and lace-trimmed neckline. Catching sight of myself in the glass entryway, I touch the gold cross nestled just below the hollow of my neck and smile.
Steven tells me to find a seat, and I pick one in the first row where the deacons normally sit during services. Tonight is less formal. No suits for the men and no hierarchical seating. It’s almost seven, and fewer than a hundred people are gathered in the hall. Steven tells me we’ll have a short service and then break up into smaller groups for discussion until 8:30. Then we’ll go home and Steven will finally make me so, so happy.
When he enters the hall with his father, I wave in happy greeting. Pastor Hepsworth’s gaze falls immediately to the cross at my neck. His mouth twitches into a frown, but he recovers and returns my wave. I clasp my hands in my lap and eagerly await the mini-sermon.
Steven joins me in the front row. He pats my hand. “It’s nice having you here,” he whispers.
“Thank you for bringing me,” I whisper back. “I’ve missed you. It was nice being all alone with you last weekend.”
“We’ll be all alone tonight,” he says with a wink.
“Stop!” I scold, covering my face in embarrassment. “Don’t talk about that here!”
Steven grins. “You really are the perfect girl, Jane.”
He’s so sweet when he wants to be. Isn’t that what Meg said all the time? He’s so good to me, Jane. I know we argue sometimes, but he’s funny and cute and kind. Just give him a chance. You’ll see.
Pastor Hepsworth steps to the podium and begins speaking about forgiveness. I hope he’s taking in his own message and really learning it, because he’ll need to use it soon.
As he speaks, his gaze roams the crowd, and each time it strays over my section, his eyes move to my gold cross. I shouldn’t have sent the picture. It was a wicked, pointless impulse. But I feel no regret, only giddy anticipation.
I don’t need to seduce Pastor Hepsworth, but I like knowing that I could. His weakness is a little icing on my cake.
He only speaks for fifteen minutes, and then the crowd begins to break up into smaller groups. Steven leads his men’s group away to one of the study rooms. I approach his father. “Pastor Hepsworth? Could I speak with you for a moment? I know you’re very busy.”
He watches me intently for a few seconds, looking for some clue. But I gaze innocently up at him until he cracks and settles his face into a gentle smile. “Of course, my dear. Come sit down with me.” We move to the end of one of the pews as most of the people disperse to meeting rooms. The pastor takes a seat a foot away from me, but his eyes skip to my necklace for another quick look.
“Everything is going great with Steven, but I’m troubled by something that . . . Well, I guess it’s not a secret . . .”
He nods, but his forehead crumples in confusion. “You can confide in me, my girl. You can trust in my absolute discretion.”
“You won’t tell Steven about this?”
The pastor clears his throat. “Not if you don’t want me to.”
“Thank you.” I nod. “Okay . . .” I start as if I’m nervous. “I . . . I know about his ex-girlfriend. How she died.”
He blinks as if he’s surprised that’s what I want to talk about, but he recovers quickly. “Ah, yes. Quite a tragedy.”
“Sometimes I worry that he’s not ready for another relationship. I think he blames himself for what happened.”
He settles down finally, leaning back in the pew, ready to dispense godly advice. “It’s normal for anyone to feel guilt after such an awful event.”
“Yes, but he says he wasn’t good to her.”
“Nonsense! I counseled that girl myself and she was deeply troubled. Deeply.”
Liar. Liar. Liar. Steven was the trouble in Meg’s life. But I keep my face blank. “About what?”
“She’d lived quite a life of sin before she joined our church. She and Steven argued about her past, yes, but she still struggled to live in the right during her relationship with Steven.”
“He says maybe he was too hard on her sometimes.”
“A man’s role is to lead his family, Jane. Do you believe that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Meg wasn’t raised in the church, and she struggled to accept her role as a helpmate. Yes, they spoke of marriage, but she couldn’t set aside her ideas of so-called liberation and feminism. She had demons, my dear. True, evil demons that tormented her and pushed her to sinful, reckless behavior.”
Oh, Meg was the one sinning. Never Steven with his blow jobs and porn and Tinder hookups. He’s just a man, after all. And so is his father.
“But we all sin, don’t we?” I part my lips and raise my eyes to gaze up at him. “I’m a sinner too, Pastor Hepsworth. What if I have demons I can’t escape? Am I still good enough for God? Am I good enough for Steven?”
He’s staring at my mouth, then at that gold cross. “Is there something you want to tell me?” he prompts.
I shake my head.
The pastor takes a deep breath. He clears his throat again. Licks his lips. “Jane . . . did you text me last weekend?”
I shake my head harder.
“Perhaps you were reaching out for help.”
“No, sir,” I whisper.
“Jane.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
He watches sternly for a moment before sighing. “Well, if there’s ever anything you need to confess or anything you need guidance with, you can come to me. My door is always open.”
“I will.”
When I don’t say more, Pastor Hepsworth pats my hand, then slides both his hands around it to hold it. “Steven and I both tried to guide Meg, but, sadly, her demons were too much for her to bear. In the end she committed the ultimate sin by taking the life God gave her.” Is that what he told his son? There was nothing more we could have done.
They could have been kind. Steven could have stopped stomping her into the ground every chance he got. His father could have counseled him to be gentle and understanding.
I swallow the bitter saliva pooling in my mouth and manage to rasp a question. “You don’t think she’s in hell, do you?”
“My child, suicide is something God can never forgive. She’s damned for all eternity. But the rest of us still have time to save our own souls. And I can see what a good girl you are, Jane.” His hands squeeze mine. “We are all sinners and we are all worthy of God’s forgiveness. We have only to confess and ask for mercy. I will not judge you.”
“Thank you, sir.” I tug his hands up and hold them to my bosom. “Thank you so much. You’ve made me feel better.”
His eyes are on his own fingers, resting against my cleavage. I smile as innocently as a mother cradling her babe.
No, there’s no reason to seduce him. But after what he just said about Meg, is there any reason not to ruin him too? Just like Steven, his father blames Meg for everything.
Their day of disaster is near and their doom rushes upon them. Good old Deuteronomy.
This is hardly my first Bible study. I’ve already got the best parts memorized and I believe in them wholeheartedly. Eye for eye, tooth for tooth. But the rest is even better: burn for burn, wound for wound, bruise for bruise.