#5. Church

#5. Church

Patrick had grown up going to church. It was something he was used to on Sunday mornings, a cleansing feeling like going to the dentist. April had had no such inclination when she met Patrick, so it had taken some convincing to get her into the habit when they’d gotten serious. Patrick had found for them a nearby Baptist church that resembled to a reasonable extent the church in which he had grown up. It had pews, a few stained-glass windows and a nice, big cross behind the central pulpit; when Patrick had seen that, he knew he’d found a respectable establishment, a House of God. April hadn’t been too pleased that they didn’t know anyone when they started attending, but Patrick had made the point that they didn’t know anyone who went to church anyway. So he began coaxing her to come with him every week, a trend that continued over the next two years. Of course, April’s attendance was still pretty inconsistent, as she had never intended to exorcise the Saturday-night-party-girl within her, who had little regard for the all too often hungover trying-to-be-religious-for-her-husband-Sunday-morning-girl. This weekend, however, neither April’s gregarious sister nor any of her lively friends had a single keg to speak of between them, so April was “good to go for a little Jesus action.”

Patrick, whose attentiveness at church had been basically impeccable up to this point in his adult life, was distracted beyond all reasonable attempts to focus on this particular Sunday morning. As April struggled with her nose in her hymnal, Patrick hardly looked down as he sang upright with full chest, but this was only because he knew the songs by rote. In fact, his mind knew nothing of Jesus or peace or hope or sacrificial love that morning. Instead his eyes searched the crowd on the off chance that Susan went to First Baptist and he’d just never noticed her before. His nose discreetly tested the air at various angles in an effort to detect that perfume she’d been wearing the other night. She was, in fact, the only person to whom Patrick was subconsciously singing, whether she could hear him or not, whether God cared or not.

When the music was over Pastor Jacobs took the pulpit, and Patrick blinked himself back into reality. April took his hand as they sat. He glanced over at her and realized he had forgotten entirely that she was there. He took a deep breath and opened his ears to the Word.

Pastor Jacobs began with an introductory anecdote that Patrick had heard at least twice before, so Patrick’s thoughts began to wander again. He wondered what Susan did on Sunday mornings. Was she at church? Was she asleep? Was she out shopping someplace, for something sexy? Or pajamas. Or just a sensible pair of slacks to wear to work. Was she by herself, or with friends? Or – oh yeah, Patrick remembered, there was that guy. Was she with him? No, not on a Sunday morning. They hadn’t been seeing each other that long. Unless she slept with him. Would she do that? Patrick didn’t think so.

“Turn with me to the book of Matthew, where we’ll get into our lesson for today . . .” Pastor Jacobs was saying.

Patrick let go of April’s hand to grab a black Bible from the pew in front of him. He leafed through the pages, listening for Pastor Jacobs’ leading. “Chapter 5 – let’s see – starting with the first verse . . .”

Patrick sucked in breath when he came to the page. He cleared his throat, loudly and suddenly, as his heart dropped. ADULTRY. It was staring him right in the face.

Pastor Jacobs leaned further over the pulpit. “Hmmm? Oh, I see – sorry, Chapter 6.”

“What?” April whispered.

“Nothing,” Patrick replied.

“You see where I was confused,” Pastor Jacobs continued. “No no, not the fifth chapter of Matthew. Feel free to kill and cheat on your spouses this week – we’re not working out of that passage today.”

Everybody laughed, no one louder than Patrick. Despite the correction, Patrick couldn’t help but turn back to Chapter 5 and peruse it.

He hardly noticed when the offering plate came around. April reached into her purse and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill just as the golden receptacle came to her. Patrick looked up from his Bible only when she reached across him to pass it along. He snapped the book shut as he watched the plate pass on.

Twenty? he mouthed to her.

She nodded. He shrugged and put the Bible back on the pew in front of him. He wondered if that was even ten percent of what they’d made that week, but since April took care of the money, he didn’t worry about it.

April had listened intently to the sermon about charity and being sincere in giving. She had started thinking hard about how much she was going to give to the church this week around the middle of Pastor Jacobs’ message. She tried doing the math in her head but couldn’t figure out how much a tithe would be, so she decided to go with her gut. Twenty bucks was about all she wanted to give, but afterward she still wasn’t sure if it was enough.

“Do you think it was enough?” she asked Patrick as they walked to their car.

“What?”

“Our offering,” she said.

“Sure. I mean, I don’t know. I make the same every week. You tell me.”

“I mean, did it feel like enough. I wonder if we should give to a charity or something.”

“The church does charities.”

“I know, I mean give right to the charity. Something we feel good about, like kids with AIDS or something. It would set a good example for our kids.”

Patrick nodded as they got into the car, but said nothing.

“Well, what do you think?”

“I don’t know. Sure.”

“I appreciate the enthusiasm.”

“Yeah, well.”

“What?”

“You do the money. Give to charity, sure. Sounds good.”

“It’s good to know you’re so concerned about the world around you,” April said, her face turned away.

Patrick said nothing in response. All he was thinking about was Susan, and this continued throughout the afternoon of watching tennis on TV. Patrick wondered if Susan played any sports. Oh, the questions he could ask her, ones that he just hadn’t gotten to yet on Friday night! He wanted to pick her apart, learn everything he could. She intrigued him. He wanted to know what was behind those eyes, what she held in that mind. What mystery was there, in her past, in her present. He wanted to show her he could be better than this other guy, that he was the kind of guy who stuck around. After all, he was married.

It was April’s idea to go see a movie that night, so they went to see some romantic comedy that hardly made Patrick crack a smile. All he could think of as he held April’s hand was how much better he could do than these fools in the movies. He could be romantic when he wanted to be. He knew how to lay on the charm.

April went to bed early that night, so Patrick stayed up to read. He could hardly pay attention to the words on the page, thinking about what the next day would bring. No, he told himself and God, he would not think of Susan like the guys in the movies did. He wasn’t trying to have sex with her. He didn’t even want to picture her naked. No, this was different, this was something else. It was appreciation of beauty. No more and no less.

Over the course of the next day Patrick and Susan hardly said a word to each other, they had such heavy call loads. They took their lunch breaks at different times. Patrick went to the restroom at the end of the day, thinking he would at least say goodbye to Susan before she left, but when he got back to his desk, she was gone.

Patrick tried to watch TV, tried to read, tried to do some job searching online that night, but he lacked the resolve for any of it. He went to bed before April got home and stared at the ceiling as he laughed at himself. Why had he been so excited about work today? he asked himself. What exactly had he been expecting? A romantic interlude by the drinking fountain? A passion-filled confession of unrequited love – on her part, of course – out in the parking lot? Time to rid his mind of it, he thought. Time to absolve himself of the madness the weekend had brought.

He woke only briefly when April flipped off the nightlight and gently slipped her arm over his chest.