Agape by Mayt

Mayt@aol.com

*****

Disclaimer: This is a contemporary story. No disclaimer required.

Background: This story is an immediate continuation of Hesed. Readers must read Hesed if they hope to appreciate Agape.

To the readers of Hesed: I wish to thank those who sent a word my way after reading Hesed. Agape would not have been written without your encouragement.

Acknowledgements: My gratitude to Cath for her extensive edits/comments and to Tana for her faithful encouragement and beta review.

Comments: Comments always encouraged and appreciated.

Subtext: This story portrays a loving relationship between two women. If you are under 18 or if it is illegal for you to read this text please do not continue.

The story…

I.

Nicole awoke gradually. The feel of the space that held her was foreign. She pulled her mind up from the depths of sleep seeking the comfort that comes with the basic knowledge of one’s locality. Her senses offered clues, the feel of the sheets, the smell of the room, the bird songs seeping through to her consciousness. It was, however, the lingering taste in her mouth that brought forth the defining memory. Nicole reached out in search for the other woman. There had been a woman, this she now remembered. With the extension of her arm she sought flesh and blood. She was met with emptiness. Nicole’s mind drifted to the remnants of a dream, a familiar dream that had sustained her for nearly a year, the dream of making love to Beth. The dream and memory clashed. Their differences played against one another. The memory’s setting was not the loft, but a mattress in a Hyde Park apartment. Nicole had not enjoyed Beth’s reciprocation, instead falling asleep with the younger woman in her arms. The emotions felt were far deeper, more overpowering than she could have ever anticipated. Nicole opened her eyes to the sparse room. She lay alone. Her robe hung on a hook behind the entry door.

Beth stood in the sunroom holding a half empty mug of tea. She looked out to a dormant street. Even after a year in residence, the silence of Chicago still surprised her. The city was so large and active, to see it in repose conveyed an image of God’s merciful hand calling upon creation to rest. Beth felt God’s mercy for those beyond the pane glass, but not for she who stood within. In the name of God, she had denied Nicole. She had denied herself. The previous evening the denial ended. They had physically joined, completing a minor odyssey. Nicole’s lovemaking had been passionate and tender. Beth could not suppress her tears upon release. Descending back into her memory she was unable to claim joy or peace, nor pain or despair. Beth had never known the sheer physical hunger and abandon before. The juxtaposition of such a corporeal existence with her numinous sense of being was difficult for her to reconcile. Beth knew she was both women. Knowing herself more completely was not her greatest surprise. What she had not expected was to touch the sublime while in Nicole’s embrace. For a reason that escaped her, the truth of Nicole’s presence in her life frightened her.

Nicole tied her robe around her as she left the bedroom. She walked through the hallway to the kitchen. Turning she spied Beth. The young woman, dressed in gray sweatpants and a white tank top stood motionless in the center of the sunroom. Nicole was relieved to see her. She longed for Beth and yet, Nicole hesitated in disturbing her. She felt a distance separating them far greater than the span of the living room. Nicole did not feel she had a right to trespass without invitation.

Beth closed her eyes. The previous evening, as she drifted into sleep, she prayed a prayer of thanksgiving. She now yearned to revive the prayer, but the words remained unsounded. Beth felt the breath of life enter her. She held the breath for a heartbeat before releasing it. She repeated the effort, taking in the breath, releasing it. She felt her cross rest over her neck, its gentle weight upon her skin. She longed for the gentle press of God throughout the night as an answer to her prayer. Contrary to all her desires she had no sense of God’s immediacy. During the prior evening, in the living room, kneeling beside Nicole, asking Nicole to make love to her, Beth set aside the risk of losing her God. Standing now with the sun warmly upon her face, she wished to believe no risk had been taken. She wished to believe God had been with her as she broke the rules of the Church. She wished to believe her sense of God’s alienation had ended. In truth, she stood in God’s sight, uncertain.

Beth opened her eyes. Reflected upon the windowpane was the image of Nicole. Beth smiled at the timely reassurance. She turned to her lover. “Good morning.”

Nicole offered a gentle smile. “Good morning.”

“Would you like some coffee?”

“It can wait. How are you?”

“Good. You?”

Nicole struggled with the physical distance. She felt a profound vulnerability. “I love you.”

Beth sensed Nicole’s fragileness. It was the same fragileness that had found expression prior to their lovemaking. “And I love you.”

Nicole matched Beth’s gaze for a moment before feeling an unaccustomed shyness. She stepped back and turned into the kitchen. “I’ll make coffee.”

Beth approached, resting her tea mug on the oak banister that divided the living room from the kitchen. She watched Nicole as the woman stared at the cupboards.

Nicole did not know where to begin. She was a stranger in her own home. She felt a rising surge of undefined energy. It neared anger. She felt out of control and she did not like it. She could not choreograph the morning after with Beth as she had done with all but one other woman in her life. She was not sure she wanted to. At the same time she knew it would be easier if she could.

Nicole felt Beth take her hand. Beth offered, “Let me, until you get the lay of the land.”

“This is hard.”

“What?”

“What do I do now?”

“We’re not talking about making coffee are we?”

“No.” Nicole released Beth’s hand and took a step away. She kept her back to Beth. “I’ve lost everything I’ve known. I’m going to have to apologize to Connor. He always said I lived a structured life. I told him he was wrong. But, he was right. I had the loft, the Fields, my lifestyle. They’re all gone.”

“You’re rebuilding the Fields. And when it comes to the apartment you can move things around. Nothing is set in stone.” Beth’s words were not rewarded. “Nicki, I’m not sure what you need…what kind of lifestyle you want, but we can try to work it out.”

Nicole turned back to Beth. “How would you feel if I left right now?”

Beth swallowed. “If that’s what you want.”

Nicole was incredulous. “Are you always going to be so easy?”

“Nicki, what’s wrong?”

Nicole whispered. “I love you.”

The insistent plea Beth heard embedded within Nicole’s declaration was unexpected. Beth held her gaze to the confused woman standing before her. Nicole’s voice trembled. “Damn it, Beth. I can’t….”

“You can’t what…”

“Wake up to an empty bed. Not again.”

“If I’m not with you, call me back. I’ll come to you.”

“All I have to do is call for you?”

Beth stood at Nicole’s side. “Love me. Respect me.” Beth reached up and stroked Nicole’s cheek with the back of her hand. “Want me.”

Nicole took Beth’s hand with her own and placed a kiss upon its palm. Reassuringly, she raised her eyes. Her smile returned. “Where do you keep the coffee?”

“Nicki, are you sure it’s coffee that you want?”

Nicole reached her arm around Beth’s waist and pulled her close. Beth allowed herself to be taken.

Lying in bed, Nicole laid her body over Beth. Nicole fought with her own desires, trying to keep their expression measured. The strength of her physical need was overwhelming her. She could not stop her body from trembling.

Beth felt Nicole shaking. “What is it?”

Nicole turned her head away, securing herself against Beth’s shoulder.

Beth tightened her hold on Nicole. “Nicki, it’s alright to let go.”

Nicole’s voice was hoarse. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Beth turned and placed her lips near Nicole’s ear. She spoke in a whisper. “You won’t.”

“You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

“But I want to.” Beth stroked the back of Nicole’s head. “I trust you, and I know myself well enough that I’ll ask you to stop if you start to take me somewhere I don’t want to go.” Beth’s assurances were met with silence. “Is this the ‘lifestyle’ you think you’ve lost? Give me a chance. I’ve always been a good student, especially when I want so desperately to learn.” Beth waited. She felt Nicole’s body tense, now motionless, it left Beth to wonder how such a dramatic physical shift could be possible. “For the love of God, Nicki. Make me yours.”

Nicole raised herself up. Beth’s gaze followed Nicole’s every move. Whatever Nicole was feeling or thinking, it was beyond Beth’s perception. Nicole opened her mouth as if to speak. She paused, and then took Beth’s lower lip and bit gently down. She released her hold upon the soft flesh and raised her eyes to Beth’s.

‘For the love of God.’ The words had pierced through Nicole’s inner turmoil. She knew there was nothing cavalier in Beth’s expression. Nicole knew the sentiment did not come easily from Beth. In spite of the fact that Beth wore the cross, in spite of the fact that Beth took hold of the cross before falling asleep the night before, Nicole had not expected the presence of Beth’s God to inhabit their bed. Nicole felt the thief. “Are you mine?” She asked.

Beth studied the intense woman. “Yes.”

Nicole’s thoughts darkened. She did not want to share Beth. She had never shared a woman. She was determined she never would. Beth had to be hers completely. Nicole would make Beth hers. In their bed, Beth would experience Nicole’s unbridled power and if Nicole had her way, the force of her power would be the means to her greatest seduction.

Nicole walked out onto the city street. A light rain was falling creating a dull, depressed atmosphere. Nicole buried her hands into her black trench coat pockets as she made her way toward the lakefront. She left Beth sleeping in the bedroom. Nicole had repeatedly taken Beth. Beth’s youthful body responded completely to Nicole. Nicole capitalized on every response. She kept an intent watch for all of Beth’s reactions. No movement, no matter how nuanced, escaped Nicole’s keen observation. No sound that Beth gave voice to, no matter how muted, failed to be heard.

Few words were spoken. Nicole did not trust what she might say. Her thoughts were harsh - too severe to share. Nicole felt the danger of her want of Beth. Nicole had not been good to women she desired far less than she desired Beth. She attempted to rationalize her fear away. She had attempted to retreat from Beth, but Beth had gone to her. Nicole told herself that she took Beth because Beth asked to be taken. Nicole took full advantage of Beth’s desire to please. For Nicole, taking possession of Beth was intoxicating.

Beth had whispered Nicole’s name as she held Nicole weakly, her breath slowing from the rapid pace Nicole had drawn from her. Nicole knew she had driven Beth to her physical limit. Nicole felt a rising fear as she held Beth in her embrace. She knew that she had the want, the hunger to take Beth yet again and a part of her did not care how spent Beth was.

Nicole had maintained her celibacy after ending her liaison with Page. Her focus was solely on Beth. She was unwilling to risk losing the possibility of Beth for the sake of a night’s release, even if it were with a stranger in a foreign city. Nicole told herself that her most fierce behaviors were caused by the tumor now excised from her brain. She now knew that it was not true. She still harbored the same depth of passion and the accompanying darkness that ruled her in the past.

Nicole feared her power over Beth. She understood that Beth trusted her implicitly and was thus blind to the threat. Nicole had imagined Beth’s light against her shadow. She presumed a safe haven for both of them within Beth’s light. Nicole did not find that safe haven. The truth was beyond their physical union was beyond Nicole’s comprehension. She could not reconcile how a gentle soul like Beth’s could be a catalyst to her own all-consuming desire. Her remorse rising to an unbearable threshold, Nicole removed herself from Beth before she did any measurable harm.

The rain continued to fall. The rising wind blew unimpeded across the open lakefront. The raindrops cut like small cold knives across Nicole’s face. Nicole did not care. She sat upon a park bench, her vision taking in the Lake Michigan waves crashing against the rock wall. Nicole wanted to be a wave. She wanted the force of her to hit an immovable object and be stopped, thrown back, prevented from washing away the shore, stealing the rich topsoil, severing the roots of growth.

The thought of returning to Beth was complete in uncertainty. Nicole’s inner ear heard Beth’s voice, ‘Love me. Respect me. Want me.’ Nicole wondered if it could be so easy. She bowed her head and held her hands upon her lap. How could she have lost herself in the span of less than a day? What had Beth stirred within her? She spoke the words that had guided her life since college. “May I accept the grace of life seeking goodness…” Nicole faltered. Her heart ached. She looked up to the roaring lake waves. Gathering her thoughts, she continued in a hushed voice. “Seeking goodness both within myself and within others.” Nicole struggled to find the grace in the moment. She struggled to find the goodness within herself. She struggled to accept that her life had brought her to his time and place. She had not expected her destiny to be so unkind.

Beth lay beneath the deliciously cool sheets. A languid sensation took residence throughout her body. She could not recall ever feeling this free of tension. Her muscles were liquid. They kept their form only because of the skeleton they held fast to. Keeping her eyes closed and her body still Beth could once again feel how she seemed to fit perfectly into the shape of Nicole’s body. Nicole offered an astonishing desire. It radiated from her and Beth felt the intensity, felt Nicole’s heat to the level of a burn. There was pain in the heat. It was a seductive pain. With it came the pleasure of absolute abandonment of all restraint, of what Beth, for a lack of a better word, would have described as propriety.

To Beth, there was nothing indecent in Nicole’s effort. It was, however, devoid of the civilized. It was base. It was fundamental. It was instinctual. It was feral. Nicole was insatiable. Beth knew that Nicole had wanted more from her than she had taken. Beth wanted to give in return but Nicole was determined to have her way and growled a low “No.” Nicole had taken Beth’s wrists and pinned them with one hand over Beth’s head as she continued to explore Beth’s body. In the present, the remembrance of Nicole’s raw power caused Beth’s body to shudder. Beth had been enthralled by Nicole’s capacity to take her away from all thought. They had resided in a rapturous world of the body and not the mind.

Beth’s thoughts drifted to those moments in their past when she witnessed Nicole at her most vulnerable. In Beth’s judgment, Nicole consistently maintained an air of defiance. The thread of defiance was present when Nicole first asked Beth for her friendship. The same thread was woven through Nicole’s fabric during Nicole’s hospital stay, as well as during Beth’s first visit to the loft. At one time, Beth believed that particular loft visit had provided a glimpse to Nicole’s vulnerability. Later events proved her wrong. The privilege of such an intimate insight was not to be hers until the Elysian Fields’ fire. It was only then that Beth was exposed to Nicole’s genuine defenselessness. The initial shock of the fire had rendered Nicole despondent. It was Nicole’s request to be held that finally gave Beth reason to believe that Nicole not only wanted her but, more importantly, needed her. That Nicole’s need was physical did not seem remarkable at the time.

Beth realized that during the previous evening Nicole’s vulnerability had been placed before her for only the second time. Nicole’s confession that she did not know what to do, defined the divide between Nicole, the woman of great intellectual capacity, and Nicole, the woman of great physical presence. Beth understood that when Nicole’s intellect had reached its limit, when she could no longer use reason to cope, her body took dominion. After the fire, Nicole’s physical needs overruled her determination to maintain a persona of strength and independence. Ultimately, Nicole could be known through her body. In a similar manner, during the previous evening, limited in her ability to verbally express her love, Nicole was stymied. Nicole was unable to act until Beth had engaged her body.

Beth considered their morning encounter. Nicole’s behavior neared the irrational, a state of being unthinkable of Nicole, until Beth witnessed it. Nicole’s initial distance, her confession of loss of all that was familiar, her momentary threat to reclaim her independence, her declaration of love, her spoken want for Beth, finally culminated in a physical yearning so great that it became clear to Beth that Nicole’s precious sense of control had been besieged. Once again, Nicole’s vulnerability surfaced. Once again, Beth reached through to Nicole by physically engaging her. The sensation of Nicole’s trembling body followed by Nicole’s harness of all her bleeding energy, in an act of sheer will, left Beth in awe of her lover.

Beth was uncertain of what she had done to finally convince Nicole to allow herself to break free from her self-imposed restraints. Nicole’s only words were those that prefaced their lovemaking. “Are you mine?” Beth knew that no one on earth could claim her as Nicole had. Beth hoped that some day Nicole would give to her as freely as she had given to Nicole. Beth suspected that for now, it was beyond Nicole to allow her self to be taken in like manner.

For Beth, finding herself alone in the apartment was not unexpected. Her brief stay in Boston with Nicole prepared her for Nicole’s steady need for solitude. In arranging the apartment, Beth had consciously tried to create for Nicole a refuge. That refuge was the den. None of Beth’s limited belongings, including her books, could be found in Nicole’s den. It was Beth’s hope that she and Nicole would come to an understanding of how their shared space was to be managed. She hoped for an arrangement that would serve both their needs.

Beth was reading in the sunroom when Nicole entered the apartment. It was near five in the evening. Beth held in check all desire to go to Nicole. Instead, she intended to follow Nicole’s cue. Nicole stripped her coat off and hung it in the hall closet. She bent down, unlaced and removed her shoes, leaving them on the hall mat. Her hair was wet. She felt the cold seep through her body. She walked to the bathroom and retrieved a towel, walking back into the living room as she dried her hair.

Beth looked up and waited. Satisfied with her effort, Nicole rested the towel around her neck. She focused on Beth. “Hi.”

Beth smiled. “Hi.”

“I have some work to do.”

“The den is all yours.”

Nicole glanced toward the hall that led to her office. “Anything I should know?”

“I’ve set your laptop on the credenza and put your books away. The shelves are kind of bare but I figure you’ll be filling them up soon enough. I left your files alone. I wasn’t sure how you wanted them organized in the lateral file.”

“That it?”

“That’s it.”

“Thanks.” Nicole turned away.

“Nicki?”

Nicole offered Beth her complete attention.

“Nicki. I was wondering if it would be all right if I set up a space here in the sunroom for myself.”

Nicole considered the space. It suited Beth. “The den for the sunroom?”

“Something like that.”

“I seem to have gotten the better deal.”

“I think it’s a fair trade.”

Nicole swept her hand in a broad gesture. “It’s all yours.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, Beth. This is your home, too.”

Nicole made her way to her office. She smiled to herself as she assessed Beth’s diplomatic skills. Nicole had claimed her office from the day she consented to lease the apartment. The ISDN line for her desktop computer connection and a private telephone line had already been installed. Beth insisted on calling the space their den. Nicole never referenced it other than her office. Beth had accepted Nicole’s nonnegotiable claim and now successfully negotiated the sunroom in compensation. Beth was not to be underestimated.

Nicole delved into completing the final report for her client. She welcomed the diversion. Sitting on the park bench for over two hours, she was able to calm her worst fears. In her mind’s eye she froze the image of the waves crashing against the rock wall. That image would be her mainstay. She would recall it whenever she felt the danger of her darkness rising to the surface.

It was 7:00 p.m. and Beth saw no sign that Nicole would return to her. Beth went and stood by the den threshold. “Hey.”

Nicole was immersed in her work. She spoke without breaking her focus. “Everything okay?”

“Thought you might be hungry.”

“I’ll grab a bite to eat later.”

Beth wondered if she would soon lose Nicole again to the streets of Chicago. “Will you go out?”

Nicole looked up. “We have food?”

Bemused, Beth shook her head. “Yes. We have food.”

“Don’t know then. Depends on what I’m hungry for.”

“Living over a restaurant did have its advantages didn’t it?’

“I’m spoiled rotten, aren’t I?”

“You work hard for the privilege.”

“It’s still a privilege.”

Beth felt a surge of pride in Nicole. Nicole had not been corrupted by her success. It was one of the reasons Beth loved her so. “I’ll leave you to your work.”

Nicole returned to her task. It seemed to her that instead of Miguel constantly questioning her about her eating, it would now be Beth. In the whirlwind of change, some things insisted on remaining the same.

Nicole had made considerable progress. She was pleased. By her desk clock it was past midnight. Nicole had hit the zone, a state of complete mental focus. Time lost all meaning. Her analytical skills excelled. It was, for her, a creative force, one highly valued by her clients. It manifested itself in an ability to make connections between varied and at times disparate data resulting in problem resolution strategies that were often quite novel, and usually very effective. It was just this talent that justified her fees. More than once she had a client insist on personally presenting her with a check with the accompanying statement that she was worth every penny. Nicole knew she had helped companies save in the hundreds of thousands of dollars. Relatively, the price of her services was a minor debit to the company’s balance sheet.

Stretching her body she felt the tension release from her muscles. She realized Beth had not bid her good night. Nicole was somewhat perplexed by this. Nicole appreciated Beth’s efforts to respect her work time. But, that did not have to translate to complete banishment. Having left her office, Nicole noticed a light coming from the living room. She found Beth lying asleep on the sofa. A book rested by her side. Beth had yet to learn that she would never be able to mimic Nicole’s schedule. Living alone, coupled with her consulting work, had given Nicole the freedom to come and go as she liked. Nicole had the stamina to forego sleep for twenty-four hours or more, and then sleep the following day away. Only when she was at a client’s work site would she impose a rigorous self-discipline. Even while traveling, Nicole was accustomed to great flexibility. With hotel living she had access to round-the-clock room service and health club facilities. She often took midnight walks as a means of clearing her mind before she slipped into her bed. Nicole could only hope that Beth would quickly learn to live a schedule independent of her own.

Nicole bent down to one knee. She took Beth’s book noting the title, Pastoral Care in Hospitals. She leaned forward and placed a kiss upon Beth’s forehead. She whispered. “I love you.” Nicole took Beth carefully into her arms and raised her up. She carried Beth into the bedroom and laid her on the mattress. Beth stirred without completely awakening. Nicole returned to the living room to turn off the light. She scanned the room. This was her home. She still did not know it. It felt uncomfortable to her. She looked back to the now empty sofa. It was the presence of Beth that made this foreign space bearable. Nicole knew she needed time to adjust. She knew she had to give herself and Beth that time. Nicole reached for the light switch. With a flick of her thumb she threw the room into an incomplete darkness. The streetlights shone through the sunroom windows. As long as there was not a citywide blackout, the apartment would always have a source of light.

Beth awoke gradually to the morning. She felt Nicole’s arm around her waist. The closeness of Nicole brought Beth a tender comfort. It was during the silent moments between her and Nicole that Beth renewed her commitment to their future together. Without the sense of safety and care, her passion would be unable to take flight.

Beth was seeking a foothold in the world. Like Nicole, much of what she knew had been left behind. The time that had passed after she met with her father and her sister, Marie, gave Beth the opportunity to begin rebuilding her life. It had been ten weeks since she went to Boston to see Nicole. There the first decisions were made. Since then, Beth had spent her time divided between two significant tasks. First, she worked to create a home for her and Nicole. With few exceptions, everything other than her clothes and her books were new. With few exceptions Nicole paid for the furnishings with the insurance proceeds from the Elysian Fields fire.

Beth’s second task was to enroll at the University of Chicago’s Ph.D. program in Theology. Though Beth was ready to start anew, patience was demanded of her. It was too late to enter the fall semester. After researching available fellowships and speaking to the faculty, Beth realized that at best she would be able to formally enter graduate school in a year. Her savings could sustain her for no more than a few more months. Providence had placed an opportunity before Beth. She needed to make a quick decision. She had made her decision. Now, all that was left to do was to discuss it with Nicole.

Nicole’s homecoming was not what Beth expected. She had anticipated a reconnection similar to their first night together in Boston. It was not meant to be. Touch replaced words. The language of the body took precedence, creating a new bond, a complement to their friendship, a new means to express their love. Of their first night and the following morning Beth had no regrets. What was difficult was waiting for Nicole. Nicole, taking first to the city streets and then to her den, left Beth positioned outside of her world. Beth wanted entrance into Nicole’s world. She prayed, that unlike the University, she would find an easy admittance.

“Beth?” Nicole called out as she entered the kitchen.

“In here.” Beth was sitting on the sunroom floor organizing an array of documents related to her education.

Nicole filled a mug with coffee before seeking out her elusive partner. “I’m glad to see furniture is optional.”

Beth looked up to the tall woman, whose raven hair, once shorn to nothing, had grown after nearly a year, to equal the length at their first meeting. “Are you being sarcastic?”

“Not at all. Mom use to yell at me for sitting on tables instead of chairs. Or taking to the floor when there was perfectly good furniture waiting to be used. She said that when I was grew up and had my own place that I could do what I wanted.”

“And so you can.”

“Like I said.”

“Do you have plans for the day?”

“Jason is expecting me. I’m going to be spending a good bit of the next few months working on the development project.”

“When do you need to go?”

“Breakfast, shower, go.”

Beth looked down at her papers. They included her student loans.

Nicole noted a change in Beth. It was not for the better. “Something wrong?”

Beth moved a document from one pile to another. She spoke without looking at Nicole. “I was hoping we could talk.”

Nicole bent down beside Beth. “Anything specific?”

“A few things.”

“Want to talk now?”

“It can wait.”

“You sure?”

Beth felt Nicole’s proximity. She turned to her and placed a kiss upon Nicole’s lips. “I’m sure.”

Nicole raised her hand to Beth’s cheek. Beth leaned into the warmth. Nicole’s hand radiated the heat from her coffee mug. “I’ll get going then.”

Beth followed Nicole with her eyes as she departed. Beth did not know how to begin.

“I’m on my way.” Nicole held her briefcase in hand as she walked toward the front hall.

Still shifting through her papers, Beth stood up and made her way into the living room. “Will you be home for dinner?”

Nicole studied Beth. It was hard to believe that they were sharing their lives with one another. Something about Beth’s question troubled Nicole. She realized how little information she shared with Beth. Beth had nothing to reference in terms of Nicole’s schedule. “How about dinner at Salonika’s?”

Beth was both pleased and disappointed. She would see Nicole for dinner, however she had hoped for a setting more private than the local Greek family restaurant.

“All right.” Beth made a sincere effort to convey an enthusiasm that she did not feel.

In her mind’s eye, Nicole saw the frozen image of waves crashing against the lakeshore. She was dismayed by the warning it conveyed. Nicole set her briefcase down and walked to Beth, taking the young woman into her arms. Beth had no chance to think. She was completely encased in Nicole’s embrace. The feel of Nicole opened Beth to her loneliness and the sorrow that accompanied it. A small, involuntary cry escaped her. Beth held Nicole tightly, breathing Nicole’s familiar, soothing musk scent in deeply.

Nicole closed her eyes and allowed her self to feel Beth’s need for her. “I’m sorry.”

Beth shook her head. Her throat tightened with emotion. Her voice was lost to her.

Nicole reached into her jacket pocket and retrieved her cell phone. She flipped it open and pressed the speed dial code for Jason Chamberlain’s office. With her other arm she kept a firm hold on Beth. “Jason. It’s Nicole. Can we reschedule for tomorrow?”

Beth waited as Nicole listened to Jason’s response.

“No. Nothing’s wrong. I want to spend some time with Beth……Thank you for understanding. Nine o’clock….Good. I’ll see you then.” Nicole pocketed the phone. She took a step back in order to have Beth completely in her vision. What she saw in Beth’s tearful eyes told Nicole all she needed to know. “Let’s talk.”

Nicole rested on the sofa with her legs stretched out. Beth lay couched against Nicole. She held Nicole’s hand with her own as Nicole rested her free arm tenderly across Beth’s chest. Nicole gave Beth time to gather her thoughts. “Where do you want to begin?”

Beth took a deep breath. Where did she want to begin? “We haven’t talked about money. About sharing expenses.”

Nicole cocked her head aside hoping to catch a glimpse of Beth’s countenance. “Beth, you’re not working and you have your school debt.”

Beth noted Nicole’s talent for being succinct. “Even if I’m accepted into the Ph.D. program it’s going to be a year before I can start my full-time studies. I’m going to be getting a job.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not. About expenses. What do you want to do?”

Beth continuously stroked Nicole’s hand with her thumb, receiving comfort in being able to give comfort. “50/50.”

“What happens if I want to go out to dinner at an expensive restaurant or to a play or travel? Do I stop doing those things? Do I go alone? Do you come with me and just fall deeper into debt or do you accept them as gifts?”

Beth stilled. “I wouldn’t mind if you went with friends or alone.”

“I would.”

“I could do a bigger share of the chores.”

“Be my maid instead of my partner?” Nicole’s words were terser than she intended.

Beth felt a rising desperation. “Nicki, I’m trying…”

Nicole spoke far more gently as she tightened her hold on Beth. “I fell in love with a religious. A lot comes with that. One thing that doesn’t is money. The loft was about the same size as this apartment. I’m not paying anymore for living space. I expect some incremental cost increases for utilities, for the Jeep.” Nicole paused. She was being a little too businesslike. “You eat, I can’t forget that.” Nicole felt Beth relax. “And, I expect you’ll be calling Marie and making other long distance calls.”

“If I cover the extra costs?”

“I’m not going to be counting pennies.”

Beth’s uncertainty found no relief. “Help me.”

Nicole needed to offer equitable terms. She wished she had had the presence of mind to anticipate this conversation. “You cover all your school costs, clothes and other personal incidentals. Plus, our shared telephone line, groceries, and you gas up the Jeep when it needs it.

“That’s not enough.”

“Cable.”

Beth smiled to herself. If she did not consent soon to Nicole’s terms, it promised to be an arduous conversation. “And cable.”

Nicole patted Beth for emphasis. “We’re not done yet. If you treat me to coffee and a scone at Mendici’s, that equals my treating you to a night on the town. If we want to do something special like a vacation, we’ll talk about how to manage our expenses before we finalize our plans.”

Nicole waited for Beth’s retort. None was forthcoming. Nicole feared she might have gone too far in her governance. She whispered Beth’s name. Beth leaned her head back, bending to the inevitable consequences of loving a woman who was financially far more secure than she was. “Thank you.”

Nicole was gratified. She allowed the silence between them to linger before speaking again. “Beth, you said things.”

“Nicki. I’ve applied for two possible fellowships from the Divinity School. Either one would mean free tuition and a living stipend.”

“They must be competitive.”

“They are. If I get one, it’ll become effective next fall. It would coincide with my formal admittance to the Ph.D. program. I have a year to wait.”

“I thought you could still take courses between now and then as a special student?”

“I can.” Beth paused. “I’ve had an offer. I connected with Pam Lathrop, the Clinical Pastoral Education supervisor at the hospital. I sent her an application after I left St. Ann’s, but it was past the interview process. One of their resident candidates decided at the last minute to take a position at a different hospital. Pam offered me the position.”

“What does that mean?”

“I would work as a paid chaplain and finish the nine additional months of training I need to be certified as a chaplain.”

“Being an ordained minister isn’t enough?”

“The training is intense. I had to do a quarter of CPE before I could graduate and be ordained. It was the most extraordinary part of my training. Some ministers aren’t good in hospital settings. For others, there is nothing more rewarding.”

“And for you?”

“Remember I told you when we first met that the reason for my studies was to help me help others find God and live a better life. I never felt I was doing more good than when I was working in the hospital.”

“When do you start?”

“Next week.”

“Anything else?”

Beth turned her body to look at Nicole. “Nicki, I’ll be working evenings and weekends.”

“That will make two of us.”

“It may be hard for us to get together.”

“Beth. My schedule will probably be more flexible than yours. If you let me know your hours, I’ll try to work around them.”

“I know how much you value your freedom.”

“Do you have any idea of how much I value you?”

Beth smiled. “I do love you.”

“So, what do you want to do with the day?”

“There are still a few things we need to get for the apartment.”

Nicole looked around. “The walls are bare, aren’t they? What do you say to a gallery walk?”

“I don’t know. Wouldn’t it be safer if you surprised me?”

“But I was looking forward to the argument.” Nicole chuckled. “Maybe we could set some ground rules.”

“For instance?”

“Only female artists.”

“Agreed.”

“I get the den; you the sunroom.”

Beth protested. “The sunroom is all windows.”

Nicole grinned. “So it is. You still have the option of pottery, glass, mobiles.”

“If not the sunroom?” Beth interjected.

Nicole was enjoying herself. It took a bit of effort to maintain a measured facade. “Kitchen.”

“Oh please!”

“Bedroom.”

Beth was startled by the offer. “Bedroom?”

Nicole nodded in affirmation. Beth was suspicious. “Who gets the living room?”

Nicole was firm. “The living room and dining room go together. We’ll have to agree on the artwork or it’s a no-go.”

“You negotiate for a living, don’t you?”

“It’s part of the job. Pure strategy.”

“You do it well.”

“Thank you, but there’s more.”

Beth was wary. She drew out her question slowly. “What?”

“Vetoes. We each have two vetoes. If one of us chooses something the other absolutely doesn’t want to live with, she can exercise a veto to prevent the acquisition.”

“Acquisition? You really are sounding like a consultant.”

“Sorry. I’ll try to do better.”

Beth traced Nicole’s smile with her fingertip. Nicole’s playfulness was a rare treat. Beth found the joy in her partner beguiling. “Nicki?”

Nicole offered Beth an amused look. “Beth?”

Beth’s felt a physical longing. Suddenly the idea of leaving the apartment had lost its appeal. She hesitated in being the initiator. Reflexively, she pushed herself up and away. “I need to shower.”

Nicole kept hold of Beth’s hand. Beth’s gaze begged for her freedom. Nicole reluctantly granted Beth’s unspoken request.

They arrived home after dinner. Nicole followed Beth into their bedroom. “I liked it.”

“Did you really?” Beth sought reassurance.

“Yes, really. Are you sure you didn’t choose it for me.”

“No. Maybe our taste in art isn’t as different as we thought?”

“I’ll suspend my judgment until we finish the apartment.”

Upon reaching the center of the room Beth happily whirled around to face Nicole. “It should look good with the furniture, once we have furniture.”

“I’m glad you decided to wait.”

“They won’t sell it?”

“Where were you when the clerk agreed to the two-week hold?”

“It really was lovely, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it was.”

“I wish you had found something you liked.”

“Beth, I brought my first serious piece of art when I was a sophomore in college. I spent years collecting the pieces I had in the loft. I’ve learned to be patient.”

“In art and in books.”

“Among other things.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed.”

The two women looked across the bedroom to one another. Beth had implied what previously remained unspoken. She had begun. “Nicki. You don’t have to be so careful. I won’t break.”

Nicole’s light mood had been shattered. “I have to be careful. That is the point, isn’t it?”

Beth approached Nicole. “What do you mean? I wanted you. I didn’t want you to hold back.”

“But I did.” Nicole stiffened. “Beth. I did hold back.”

Beth debated whether to ask Nicole how much of herself she had withheld, but deep inside Beth knew the answer. It had to have been a great deal to caused Nicole the level of distress she was obviously experiencing. Beth searched for a place of mutual safety. “Would you feel more comfortable if I grant you permission?”

“To hurt you. I don’t think so.”

“To be with me.”

“Beth. I told you. You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

“Yes, I do. Just yesterday, I was the woman in bed with you. I know exactly what you’re capable of.” A devastating thought cut through Beth. “Unless, I wasn’t…”

Nicole saw the shadow fall over Beth. “It’s not you.”

“How can you say that? It is me.”

“This isn’t about sex.”

“Then what?”

“I didn’t expect to feel the way I do when I’m with you.”

Beth was subdued. “How do you feel?”

Nicole hated confession. “Out of control.”

“But you weren’t.”

“I was on a fine line.”

Beth stepped forward. Nicole instinctively felt the danger and stepped back against the bedroom threshold. Beth stopped. “Nicki. I won’t let you run away from me without a fight. And, you can’t run away from yourself.”

Beth waited. Nicole did not blink.

Beth met the dare and approached anew. She reached out and placed a comforting hand on an unyielding Nicole. At point of contact Nicole averted her eyes.

Beth spoke softly. “Do you have any idea of how out of control I felt in your arms? Don’t you realize you took me with you?” Beth raised her hand and guided Nicole’s chin toward her. “Listen to me, Nicki. You weren’t alone. There wasn’t a moment that I didn’t want to be with you.”

There were thoughts and feelings Nicole was unprepared to share with Beth, thoughts and feelings that underlay the intensity of her lovemaking, thoughts and feelings that spoke only to motive. Bestowed with a conscience, she knew that no matter how she behaved she was accountable for her intention. Her intentions were hidden in her interior darkness. To expose her intentions to Beth’s light would be to destroy any hope for Beth’s trust and love. In Nicole’s greatest nightmare her darkness would destroy Beth.

Beth continued to interpret Nicole’s admonitions as warnings of physical harm. That was not Nicole’s fear. Nicole feared she would crush Beth’s soul. Nicole would fight doing so until her dying day. The weight of Nicole’s truth against her spirit was immense. Nicole understood that it was the price exacted for daring to love Beth. If she believed in the devil she would surely have characterized her dilemma as one only the devil could have conceived in a brilliant effort to corrupt all that is good in life.

If Nicole honored an archetype it was Sophia, wisdom. Nicole had sought wisdom out while sitting on the park bench. Her answer was simply to seek and hold to the goodness within herself and within others. The former was a tenuous thread to rely on. Standing before her was the latter. Goodness was seeking her out, calling Nicole to her. Beth was seeking Nicole and Nicole knew she had not the strength of character to deny Beth. Beth would have her. In a moment of compassion, a thought crossed Nicole’s mind - “May Beth’s God have mercy on her soul.”

Nicole relented. Her posture relaxed. Beth noted the change. Heartened, she leaned up and gently kissed Nicole. Nicole needed little encouragement to follow Beth’s lead. Their kiss quickly grew in fervor. Beth’s claim upon Nicole was not denied.

Beth listened to Nicole’s easy breathing. The pleasure of making love to Nicole stayed with her. Beth was once again left to conjecture both the source of Nicole’s fear and the relief of her fear. There was nothing in their lovemaking that frightened Beth. Nicole was characteristically intense, but also self-possessed. She guided Beth with her hands, and with whispered words of instruction and affirmation. After Nicole climaxed, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Beth waited for Nicole to return to her. Nicole did not return, but eased into sleep. Beth laid her body over Nicole’s, resting her ear against Nicole’s heart. She fell asleep with Nicole’s powerful heartbeat as a source of comfort.

Nicole leaned back and closed her eyes - a physical withdrawal from Beth. Beth had reached Nicole far more deeply than in the physical realm. Nicole was accustomed to opening herself up to other women, immersing herself in the sensations afforded the human body, allowing herself a total escape from all that might place meaning into the moment beyond the raw play of touch, taste, smell and unformed sounds. Nicole preferred the night, sex in darkness, the anonymity of the other. The other woman did not need a name. The only personality acknowledged was her willingness to participate in the physical encounter; her only value was her physical response. Anything more promised complications. No matter how clearly Nicole set the rules of engagement, like Page, inevitably, claims were made, expectations for a relationship surfaced. The complications would come and dampen Nicole’s desire. The body of the night would claim her right to have a name and all that came with the name. She was no longer an instrument for Nicole to play. She became a human being with a soul.

Beth was first and foremost a soul. Nicole had to open her eyes to the light of day and recognize whom she was with and call her by her name - Elizabeth Ann Kelly. Nicole had to allow Beth entrance to a place within her self that had long been closed to outsiders. A space longing to recreate the serenity of a cloister, but which was, in fact, a fortified courtyard with the finest weaponry stored within its corner towers, towers where well-trained bowmen ensure that their lone ward remains unharmed. At the center well, drinking its waters, Nicole stood within the bowmen’s sight. Her unquenchable thirst betrayed her inability to be her own master. Droplets of water traveled down her chin and merged with her tears, together salting the hard, impenetrable ground. Standing on the barren earth, Nicole knew that both sweet and dry wine waited for her. To taste the wine she had to invite the woman of the vineyard into her life. Nicole looked up again to the men in watch. If only she could captain her guards to keep their arrows within their quivers. If only she could trust that the woman’s wineskin carried the nectar promised.

Loving Beth outside her bed had been both painful and easy. The pain from the unrequited had its noble element. Chaste love warranted no reassessment of what Nicole had been taught to hold true. There was love in the world. It was simply never to be hers. She recalled Jacob’s question. Had she ever really loved a woman? The answer was at one time she believed she had. In retrospect she came to understand that her love for that one first woman was nothing but physical and heartfelt longing, the need for touch and belonging. She did not know the woman. Had she, Nicole would have recognized the ugliness of the woman’s soul, and there would have been no love.

Loving Beth outside her bed was a love first of knowledge. Nicole felt confident there would be no betrayal. Nicole’s love asked for nothing in return from Beth. Nicole’s love for Beth had not been confused by the harsh dynamics that were one with the physical being Nicole had become.

In her somewhat awkward and clumsy way, Beth heeded Nicole’s guidance and took Nicole over the edge, so different than the well-practiced women that had shared Nicole’s bed. Beth was reminiscent of Nicole’s first experience. Nicole was with a woman, older, skilled, seeking the easy conquest of a striking college freshman. Nicole made the mistake of voicing the forbidden word - love. Her punishment was quick. She was discarded for a less sentimental bedmate.

Nicole learned the lesson well. It was a tormenting lesson that required little to be recalled. Beth challenged all that Nicole had become. From Beth came words of love. From Beth came a desire that crossed the bounds of friendship though it remained firmly rooted in friendship. From Beth there was trust, not only that Nicole would do no harm to her body, but that Nicole would do no harm to her heart. With Beth there were no known rules of engagement unless Nicole went back to ‘Love me. Respect me. Want me.’ Nicole leaned back and closed her eyes - an evasion of all that Beth promised. A promise Nicole was not prepared to accept.

II

“I’ll see you tonight.”

Nicole looked away from her computer screen to Beth. Beth was not ‘in uniform.’ Her Episcopalian Priest garb was no longer part of Beth’s identity; instead it was replaced by a mandatory blue blazer. She was free to complement the blazer with her own wardrobe. For her first day she chose a long pastel flower patterned skirt and a white blouse open at the neck. Nicole had not missed Beth’s priestly clothing until this moment. She got up from her chair and approached the chaplain in training. “I’m sure you’ll do good.”

“I hope so.”

Nicole gave Beth a light kiss. “The patients are lucky to have you.”

Beth smiled. “I love you.”

“And I love you.” Nicole understood that Beth’s life, and in turn, her own, was about to change. A part of her wanted to keep Beth home. But another part of Nicole’s consciousness knew that if Beth stayed, she would not be the woman Nicole had fallen in love with. “Go on, Chaplain Kelly. You don’t want to be late on your first day.”

Nicole watched Beth leave the apartment. Beth turned and offered one final fragile smile before exiting. They had not spoken about Beth’s position at the hospital except for that one day when Beth told Nicole of the offer. Nicole knew why she did not broach the subject. She did not, however, know the cause behind Beth’s reticence.

Beth walked toward the metro station. Nicole’s voice echoed in her mind. ‘Chaplain Kelly.’ Nicole had not addressed her as Reverend. It had been months since Beth had heard the title in reference to herself. The disconnect she felt was unpalatable. She felt ill. A disease, without known remedy, struck her soul. Beth had given only a partial account of her meeting with her Bishop. It was true that her Bishop had been reluctant to see her go. It was also true that he alluded to other clerics living a life inconsistent with the rule of the Episcopal ministry. And finally, it was true that Beth had been firm that she would not hide away. What Beth had not told Nicole was that her Bishop gave her a year to reconsider her decision. He did not ask her for a Notice of Renunciation of the Ordained Ministry. Unless the Church officially acted, Beth was still in the Church. Beth was still an Episcopalian priest.

Beth sat in Reverend Pam Lathrop’s office. Pam entered, closing the door behind her. The hazel eyed United Church of Christ minister was in her mid-30s. She wore her long blond hair down. A few inches taller than Beth, she carried her considerable weight easily. Dressed in a black skirt and blue blouse she projected a comfortable, approachable presence. Pam sat down across from Beth. “I can’t tell you how blessed I feel to have you with us.”

Beth mirrored Pam’s sincerity. “I’m looking forward to the opportunity to work with you.”

As Beth’s CPE supervisor, Pam would act as a teacher, a guide, and a witness. From Beth’s formal application and her references Pam knew she had an exceptional student before her. “How have you been managing?”

“It’s been hectic. Getting back into a routine is going to be good for me.”

Pam laughed lightly. “We’ll see how much of a routine you find here.” She shifted in her chair. “Have you found a neighborhood church?”

Beth felt a pronounced discomfort. “I honestly haven’t tried.”

“I’m associated with the Hyde Park UCC Baptist Church. It’s a beautiful church and has a welcoming congregation. The door is always open.”

“Thank you. I’ll keep it in mind.”

“I hope you have maintained your spiritual practices. CPE is challenging. It’s important to keep yourself spiritually grounded.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Beth, at our next meeting we will talk more specifically about your long-term goals. For now, I am curious about what you want to achieve during this first quarter.”

“As I mentioned in my interview, I haven’t worked much with those who are severely ill or dying. I would like to.”

“There is the Oncology unit or ICU. We also have a palliative care unit where those imminently close to death are transferred. The nature of pastoral care is somewhat different with each of these units. Think about where you would like to focus this quarter and then we’ll talk assignments and your training plan for your complete residence.”

Beth nodded.

Pam continued. “What else?”

Beth had considered the more difficult aspects of her first experience as a chaplain. “Chaplaincy is different than working in a parish where I have a chance to get to know people outside of a medical situation. It’s hard to know where to begin with a new patient, especially on a cold call. I’d like to find a greater comfort level.”

“That’s reasonable. Anything else?”

Beth looked down. Pam waited patiently. Beth took a deep breath to steady her rising emotion. She raised her gaze to Pam, a tear falling down her cheek. “I feel a distance from God I’ve never felt before. I want to be able to trust in God again. It may not be appropriate to use CPE for this, but I think being in an ecumenical spiritual community of chaplains will be helpful.”

Pam heard what she suspected Beth needed to say all along. No priest with Beth’s spirit could leave her Church without experiencing an exacting stress in her faith. Though Beth’s candor was commendable, Pam knew that she was not the one who needed to hear the truth. The truth was Beth’s and it was for Beth to explore. “Beth, CPE has a number of purposes. One is to help you discern your calling. I believe you are in the right place.”

III

Jason Chamberlain sat at the head of the conference table. Nicole sat on one side alone. Across from her Miguel, Connor and Tony each took a chair. Jason glanced over to Nicole. It was for her to begin.

Nicole had been studying the Three Musketeers. Upon entering the conference room Connor was all warmth. He hugged Nicole and took a long look at her. Finally asking, “How are you?” Connor had been with her and the Elysian Fields the longest. He never asked much of her. He was protective, a combination big brother and bouncer, his robust Irish frame was sufficient to intimidate the majority of strangers who were not attuned to his gentle heart. Miguel, in contrast, was all attitude. He shook Nicole’s hand with an air of reluctance and kept a cool cadence to his voice. His trademark humor and irreverence was nowhere to be found. Miguel sat straight in his chair, his hands placed ahead of him, projecting a posture that was all business. Finally, Tony arrived, a tad rumbled and disconcerted. The mid-morning meeting was still too early for his liking. He was low energy and initially seemed disconnected from the proceedings. Nicole was saddened when she realized that, in fact, she had not missed them all very much. She thought it would have been otherwise. Still, having the Musketeers near was reassuring. She knew what she wanted to accomplish and she knew, given a choice, she wanted them by her side at the grand opening of the new Elysian Fields.

Nicole began. “I appreciate you coming in today.” Nicole offered Tony a particular smile. Jason and I are working on rebuilding the Elysian Fields. I want you three to come back and work in your previous positions. I will put you on the payroll on a part-time basis to work on the interior designs and in getting the Fields ready to open. Like our first time around together, you will have an opportunity to put your personal mark on your respective spaces in the Fields.

Connor sighed. “I’ve been waiting for this.”

Miguel interjected. “Why should we? It was easy for you to throw the Fields and us away after the fire.”

Connor turned to Miguel. “Hey man, we talked this out. Be fair.”

Nicole was waiting for the accusation. She glanced over to Tony. His attention was on his two fellow managers. The ensuing silence drew him to scan the room. His eyes met Nicole’s. “Nicki. You know it was hard for us to lose the Fields, too.”

Nicole responded softly. “I know.”

“I’ve been working DJ and bartending. I had a couple of offers to manage but I just didn’t want the hassle. I’m not sure I want to go back to running the show. I make less money. A lot less money, but I don’t have to worry about standing next to a trash heap where somebody threw all my dreams.”

“If I let you down, I’m sorry.”

Miguel burst. “If you let us down! Yes, Nicki. You let us down. Not in the business. Damn the business. I thought we were friends.”

Nicole held to a steady voice. “I won’t make excuses. I did what I had to do to survive. I coped with my loss of Beth…of the Fields in my own way. I was obviously not the friend you needed me to be. You’ve all known me long enough to know what I can give. If you decide to come back to the Fields you come back under the same terms. The Fields is a business. I won’t promise you I’ll change. I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if I want to.”

“Fair enough.” Connor leaned forward. “Nicki, I’m in. I’ll need a flexible schedule until you can put me on full time.”

“I’m sure we can work it out.”

“Nicki.” Tony was rocking back and forth in his chair. “If I don’t want to stay, I go, no questions asked, no hard feelings?”

“You can give me as much notice as I gave you. No hard feelings.”

Tony nodded in rhythm with the chair. “Okay.”

Nicole turned to Miguel. The fiery Latino was far from placated. “You want an answer now?”

“No, you can get back to me. A week enough time?”

Miguel stood up. “If I don’t call you, don’t bother calling me.”

“I understand.”

Miguel made his exit without further word.

Nicole followed him with her eyes. Something told her he would be back. She felt he needed to make her and everyone else in the room aware of his hurt and anger. Nicole was prepared to take the public chastisement. It was a small price to pay given their history together.

Jason got up and closed the conference room door left open by Miguel. “We have a great deal to talk about.”

The true business meeting could now begin.

Jason and Nicole bid farewell to Connor and Tony. Their meeting was productive. Connor was attentive from the beginning. As they discussed tangible issues, Tony’s despondency was slowly replaced by a growing interest. Jason believed Nicole had reason to be hopeful. And yet, now separated from the Musketeers, her tenor was subdued

“Nicole. Something wrong?”

“I thought I would care more. I’ve done the Fields. Nothing in this development is new.” Nicole gazed toward the door Connor and Tony exited.

“It is not just the Fields. We’ve added the rental units and the additional retail space. Our total square footage is three times what you had.”

“I realize that Jason. You’re a developer. It’s a part of who you are. The Fields feels less personal. I’m duplicating a vision, not creating a new one.”

“It was one hell of a vision that doesn’t deserve to be buried in an ash heap. Have you changed your mind? Don’t you want the Fields?”

Nicole nodded toward the door. “They want it more than I do. The Pub, The Garden and the Dance club reflect Connor, Miguel and Tony’s personalities. I was smart enough to give them the latitude to build their clientele.”

“So you had nothing of yourself in the Fields?”

“That part of me is in the past. Or maybe I just want it to be. When the Fields burned, I was able to walk away and look to new possibilities. Now my focus has been turned back.”

“I don’t understand. Why did you exercise your option?”

Nicole shook her head. “Habit. Before the Fields there was my mother’s bar. Coming back to Chicago meant rebuilding the only home I’ve known.”

“I thought you were creating a new home with Beth.”

“Don’t ask me to make sense of this, Jason. I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve made a mistake.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Go on as planned.”

“Nicole. I’m willing to buy you out.”

“And take the wrath of the Musketeers? I have a habit of finishing what I’ve started. I’m not about to change now.”

“I think it’s a high price to pay.”

“It isn’t just about me or the Musketeers. I’ve made a commitment to the community I intend to keep.”

IV

Beth stood in the stillness. From the sunroom threshold her eyes lingered upon a teak jewelry box the length of her hand and about three inches in depth. It rested beside her upon a double length two-shelf bookcase that held her library. The known contents of the box called to her. She took the box in hand and sat down resting the wood upon her lap. Her hands covered the box. She closed her eyes feeling her need grow.

Beth opened the box. Within lay her Anglican Prayer beads. With one hand she gently explored the wooden beads with her fingertips until the string was draped across her palm. The use of a string of knots or beads to keep track of prayer cut across many religious traditions. Beth remembered when a fellow seminary student, Josh, first introduced her to the Anglican Prayer beads, a relatively new form of contemplative prayer, which blends the Orthodox Jesus Prayer Rope and the Roman Catholic Rosary.

A cross hangs at the end of the beads. A large bead, the invitatory, separates the cross from the wheel of beads. The wheel is composed of twenty-eight beads divided into four groups of seven called weeks. Between each week is a single bead, the cruciform. The placements of the four cruciforms form a cross.

Beth raised the cross with her right hand and kissed it. She closed her eyes, holding the position, feeling the press of her lips upon the simple, warm wood. Beth lowered the cross and caressed it with her thumb cupping her right hand with her left. She prayed silently. “Blessed be the one, holy and living God. Glory to God forever and ever. Amen.” She guided the cross with her hand until she held the invitatory. “Let the words of my mouth and the mediation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my strength and my redeemer.” Her hand shifted until it held the first week to the right. “I lift up my eyes to the hills; From where is my help to come? My help comes from the Lord, The maker of heaven and earth.” She repeated this prayer for each of the seven weeks. Upon reaching the cruciform her prayer altered. “Holy God, Holy and Mighty, Holy Immortal One, Have mercy upon me.” She then proceeded to the next week, returning to her prayer for the week. Beth continued her prayers, traveling around the circle three times, an act symbolic of the Trinity. She completed her prayers. The weight of the cross was a force in her hand. She felt broken. She felt an unbearable separation from God, a feeling she had defensively secured away throughout the previous months. Her tears rose and for once she did not fight them. Beth cried, bowing her head down, resting her forehead against her raised hands as the beads cascaded down her arm. She prayed aloud, beseeching God to help her. Beth’s tears continued, so too, her prayers.

V

Beth and Nicole sat at a small table in Medici’s, a local restaurant catering to the University of Chicago students. The Sunday Chicago Tribune was split between them as each sipped their coffee. At a table beside them sat a young couple, man and woman, and a child, a little girl no older than three. The little girl gave a scream in delight. What caught her particular attention would be anyone’s guess. Nicole looked over and smiled. “An opera singer in the making.”

Beth shared the pleasure. “Punk rock is a possibility.”

“Can’t see her dressed all in black.”

“Look who’s talking?”

“I thought you liked my color scheme?”

“Black and white is not a color scheme. They’re extremes in the spectrum with nothing in between.”

“Green would suit her. Close to the color of your eyes.”

Beth shifted her focus back on Nicole. “Nicki. Have you thought of children? Of having a child?”

Nicole assessed Beth’s question. It was apparent that this was not an easy query for Beth to make. Nor would it be for Nicole to respond to. “Beth, I don’t have the faith that it takes to bring a child into this world.” Nicole gestured toward the newspaper. “Every day the world gets harsher. It’s brutal. Too much can go wrong.”

Beth gently protested. “You can’t give up on life.”

“I haven’t. I’ll let braver souls have the children. I’m fine watching from a distance.”

Given Nicole’s core belief in the goodness of humanity, Beth found it difficult to accept that Nicole would be swayed by the harshness of the world. “Is that the only reason?”

Nicole was absolute. “One way to guarantee I don’t hurt a child is not to have a child.”

“Who’s to say you would?”

“Who’s to say I won’t?”

“Have you ever hurt a child?”

“I’ve never allowed myself to get close enough to do any harm.”

“Nicki…”

Nicole interrupted. “Beth. I know where I come from. I know who I am. I know the rage I’m capable of. It’s not worth the risk.”

Beth had seen Nicole’s rage. She also knew Nicole was capable of harnessing her strongest emotions. Beth would not discount Nicole’s fear, but that did not temper her disappointment.

Nicole observed Beth as her eyes returned to and lingered upon the child. “Beth, do you want a child?”

Beth looked over to Nicole. “Nicki. I never expected to have a love of my own, let alone a child.”

Nicole reached over and placed her hand over Beth’s. “Do you want a child?”

“We never discussed it.”

“We are now. Do you want a little girl or boy of your own?”

Beth’s gaze was drawn to the child once again. She spoke softly. Giving voice to a new dream that had left a crease in her heart as she embraced Nicole’s love for her. It was a desire to create from and through their love. It was not rational. “Yes.”

“Beth. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t blame you. And I can’t ask you to consent to a child knowing how you feel.”

Nicole sat back. As early as a teenager she knew she would never bear a child. She could not risk perpetuating the cruelty she suffered as daughter to her unstable mother. The solution was easy. To her nothing was lost. But now a price was set. To deny parenthood was to deny Beth a child.

Beth reached out and took Nicole’s withdrawn hand. “It may be for the best.”

“How can you say that?”

“My childhood taught me a few things too. There are no guarantees.”

Nicole held Beth’s gaze. There was an underlying sincerity to her statement. Nicole would not pursue the subject further, although she suspected that this one conversation would not suffice to ease Beth’s desire. Nicole squeezed Beth’s hand. Reassured, Beth leaned back and returned to her portion of the newspaper. Nicole did the same.

“Damn.”

Nicole looked up from reading. “What?”

Beth reacted to an article. “Why don’t the states just legalize civil unions?”

Nicole was unmoved “Why does it matter?”

Beth was astonished. “You’re kidding, aren’t you?”

This was a familiar argument for Nicole to tackle. She and Kate had sparred on the subject more than once. Nicole went on automatic pilot. “There is no reason for gays and lesbians to mimic marriage. Outside of social security and tax disparities, most civil rights issues between two people can be addressed with the right legal papers. Private industry is expanding fringe benefits to same-sex couples just to stay competitive. But that isn’t why I object. There is an inherent bias against single people, period. Single people subsidize marriages and those who have children. I don’t see why a caste system of couples and singles should be condoned by society.”

Beth had never considered the disparity between singles and couples. It gave her a brief pause. She chose to set it aside. “It’s not just a civil rights issue. It’s a public pronouncement of a commitment between two souls.”

Nicole was well aware that Beth had sidestepped her argument. Nicole’s eyes rested upon the cross hanging around her lover’s neck. “Beth. Why don’t you just admit, that to you, marriage is a breath away from a sacrament?”

Beth responded softly. “It is.”

“I respect your beliefs. Please respect mine.”

Beth felt a rising frustration. “You booked bonding celebrations at the Fields.”

“Of course I did.”

Beth was stern. “Good business.”

Nicole tried not to smile. Her skills as a negotiator were at the forefront. She knew when an argument shifted from the factual and logical to the emotional. She knew when a conversation shifted to the emotional that there was no point in arguing. Continuing the encounter only fueled the indignation felt by the other. Beth was transparent. Her passion had been upset. Less practiced than Nicole in arguing this particular issue, her only weapon was inferring, not too subtly, that Nicole was a hypocrite. “Yes, it was, but that isn’t why I created the Fields and it isn’t why I’m rebuilding. I want people, gay and straight, to have an inviting and safe place to go to meet friends, have a good meal, and dance. When they’re in the Fields I don’t care if they are celebrating a birthday, an anniversary or a bat mitzvah. Just as long as it’s not the KKK’s Annual White Sheet Awards ceremony.”

Beth yielded. “I know.” She had lost track of the argument. For the moment, she did not want to pursue the subject any further. Disheartened, she once again returned to the newspaper. In the course of a morning breakfast she learned that she and Nicole had two significant differences. Neither was inconsequential to Beth. Being with Nicole meant no blessing of their union before God and no child. Beth’s eyes stared at the newsprint. She could no longer read. She could only pretend to read as sorrow claimed dominion over her.

VI

The hospital organized its Clinical Pastoral Care program by dividing the eight students into two groups of four. Each group met daily, Monday through Friday. Each ninety-minute session focused upon one student. The students all shared the same requirements. The first week they told each other their life stories. For nine of the remaining eleven weeks they were free to choose which presentation they wished to make as long as they met all the program requirements. The requirements included presenting their statement of faith, a scriptural study, a spiritual assessment of themselves, presenting a video of their effort to lead a prayer service for patients, for which all students shared responsibility, five verbatims, which were transcripts of individual encounters with patients following a set format of self analysis and issue exploration. During the sixth and twelfth week the students presented their mid-term and final self-evaluation respectively, again following a prescribed format.

It was the Monday of the second week of CPE. With completion of the previous weeklong orientation, the chaplains were finally free to provide pastoral care. In addition to Beth, her group consisted of three divinity students: Peter, a Baptist, Jamie, with the United Church of Christ, and Nathaniel, a Methodist. The second group was comprised of two divinity students, Jerry, a Lutheran, and Cynthia, a Unitarian Universalist. Paul, a Catholic priest, and Christine, a Catholic lay minister, completed the second group.

Beth was impressed with the diversity of the students, although she noted that non-Christian traditions were not represented. Pam and Anthony, the Associate CPE Supervisor, encouraged the students to meet in the Chaplains’ Office before the workday began, to lunch together, and to close the day together, once again congregating in the Chaplains’ Office. Peer support is a crucial factor in a successful CPE experience, although not always achieved, given the intangible element of chemistry between the various chaplain personalities.

Without hesitation the students chose to meet for lunch. A hospital cafeteria round table comfortably served the eight of them, so their lunches were often referred to as the Round Table. They conversed cautiously, at first. Beth felt an ease with the students in her group not immediately shared with the other four. In her group all the life stories had been shared. There was a place to begin a conversation.

She had felt some trepidation prior to sharing her life story. Acknowledging her relationship with Nicole was still new to her. Doing so in a community of religious, no matter their commitment to receive one another with an open heart, infused her storytelling with an element of potential discomfort for those listening. She was forthcoming regarding her status with the Episcopalian Church and the fact that she withheld the truth from Nicole. She also noted her break with her father and her reconciliation with her sister. Reflecting on the differences between sharing her story during her first CPE experience and this one, Beth realized that in the span of less than four years her life had been unimaginably altered. Her confidence that the change was for the better remained fragile and she wondered whether her student peers had sensed the ambiguity she felt toward her life.

Hospital unit assignments for the chaplains were completed the previous Friday. The students and their supervisors met in a joint session to choose assignments. To her liking, Beth requested and was assigned the Oncology Unit. She would also share, with Cynthia, chaplaincy responsibilities for the hospital’s two Intensive Care Units.

Cynthia’s credentials were impressive. At age thirty-nine she left a successful nursing career to pursue the ministry, specifically chaplaincy. Her calling was not to take her away from a hospital setting, only to redefine her role within it. Her nursing experience made her far more comfortable with the ill than most beginning CPE students. At the same time, she admitted to Beth that she knew one of her greatest challenges would be to keep the nurse within her out of the room when she was with a patient. Cynthia’s affiliation with the Unitarian Universalist was comforting to Beth. Beth was well aware that the Unitarian Universalist Association was supportive of lesbians and gay men, to the point of approving ordination of lesbian and gay male clergy. Given that they would be working closely together they agreed to share abbreviated versions of their life stories during lunch. Cynthia took the first step in setting aside formalities. She immediately asked Beth to call her Cindy. As lunch progressed they offered each other a foundational appreciation of who they saw themselves to be. Cindy’s family was a blend of Scottish and German. She married young and divorced young. Not having children during her marriage was both a blessing and a loss. Her last serious relationship ended soon after she entered seminary. Cindy stood a couple inches above Beth. She was slender in body, more so than Beth. Her eyes were a gentle almond; her brown hair was cut straight at the shoulders. She spoke succinctly but not impersonally. As they walked back to the ICU together, Beth felt grateful to have Cindy beside her.

VII

Nicole left the den in search for a warm-up of her coffee. She spied Beth in the sunroom. Beth sat motionless. But for her submissive posture, Nicole would have thought Beth intent on something outside the panes of glass. Nicole kept watch waiting for some movement, some sign of life. Beth’s uninterrupted stillness frightened Nicole. With Beth’s back to her, it was impossible to study Beth’s countenance.

Beth felt the unexpected hand on her shoulder. She jumped up from her seat, stood and turned toward Nicole.

Nicole was taken aback. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…” Nicole’s eyes caught sight of Beth’s right hand. Beth held, what to Nicole, was a rosary. Nicole was confused.

Beth struggled for mental equilibrium. Her prayers had taken her to a private place, not meant to be shared. She was unprepared for the jarring intrusion.

Nicole sought a quick retreat. “I was going to offer you a cup of tea.”

“No. I’m fine. Thanks.” Beth spoke in abrupt phrases.

“Beth.” Nicole was at a loss. “I’m sorry I startled you.”

Nicole stepped away. Beth looked down to her prayer beads. She wondered why she felt she should have been more careful to keep them from Nicole’s view.

Nicole went to the kitchen and filled her coffee mug. She returned to the den and sat at her desk. She looked out toward the sunroom. It was hard for her to feel like an intruder in her own home; worse, to feel like an intruder in Beth’s life.

VIII

Nathaniel entered the Chaplain’s lounge. “Turn on the TV.”

Jerry looked up. He chastised. “You could say please, brother.”

Nathaniel’s nervous demeanor gave Christine reason to be concerned. She got up from her chair and turned on the TV.

Nathaniel paced. “CNN. Channel 57.”

Beth reached for the remote control. Pressing the 5-7 with her own growing concern.

Beth, Christine and Jerry sat in silence. Nathaniel continued to pace as a CNN reporter described the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center.

Nicole was working at her desk when the telephone ran. “Nicole Thera.”

“Nicole. It’s Brian Montgomery.”

“Brian. How are you?”

“Do you have the television on?”

“No. Why?”

“Turn it on to CNN.”

“Just a minute.”

Nicole reached for her remote. She watched the video images from New York and listened to the commentators summarize what little was known. Two planes crashed into the World Trade Center within a matter of twenty minutes. It was no accident.

The chaplains were mobilized to deal with the added stress felt by patients, family members and hospital staff due to the terrorist attack. The fear factor could not be easily arrested. People had family and friends in New York and Washington D.C. Others feared further attacks against United States citizens. Questions echoed throughout the hospital corridors. The first was simply a matter of identity. Who would do this? The second question cut through the temporal to the divine. Why? Why would someone do this? Why would God allow it to be done? The temporal question might someday be answered. The divine would challenge even the most devout.

Beth met Cindy at the ICU nurses’ station. The sound of the televisions throughout all the patient rooms produced a symphony of horror. Beth wished the televisions and radios could be disconnected if only for a brief period of time. But that was not human nature in our contemporary times. The need to know even the latest rumor or speculation was fed by the various news reporting agencies. Video of the planes crashing into the World Trade Center, video of the World Trade Center individual towers collapsing, video of the damage done to the Pentagon was played and replayed. A loudening trauma reverberated within the souls of those watching as the buildings themselves crumbled. The estimated number of dead climbed. They included occupants in the World Trade Center, the planes in New York, Washington D.C. and Pennsylvania. The killed included hundreds of New York firefighters, police officers and emergency personnel who in their attempt to save the lives of those they swore to protect were crushed as the World Trade Center collapsed.

“I called my brother, Frank. He said everyone in his office is in a state of shock. No one’s working. They’re all listening to the radio or watching TV. He said he tried to log on to CNN on the web but he keeps timing out because it’s getting so many hits.”

“I tried calling Nicki. Her private line was busy. I left her a voice mail.”

“She travels for her work, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, but she plans to be close to home until the Elysian Fields is rebuilt.”

Cindy placed her hand on Beth’s arm. “Thank God for that.”

Beth opened the apartment door. “Nicki?” At her feet were Nicole’s garment bag and lap top computer case.

From the den Nicole came to Beth. “Hey.” She took Beth into an embrace, holding her dearly.

For a few moments Beth allowed herself the comfort of Nicole. “You’re packed?”

“I’m going to D.C.”

Beth pulled away. “What?”

“I’ve been getting calls from my clients all day.”

“They’ve shut down air traffic.”

Nicole was straightforward. “I’m driving.”

Beth was incredulous. “You can’t.”

“It’s safer than public transportation.”

“Nicki, you can’t go there. It’s dangerous.”

“Beth. My D.C. client had offices in the World Trade Center.”

Beth paused for a moment. Her voice softened. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ll leave in the morning.”

Beth renewed her objection. “No!”

“I have an obligation to my client.”

“Not to get yourself killed. The terrorists are zealots. No one knows what they will do next.”

“I know. History keeps repeating itself, doesn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

“What people do in the name of God.”

“This is evil.”

“Yes it is. All too human. Souls fighting for their way of life.”

“You can’t condone what they’ve done.”

“Of course I don’t condone it. But that doesn’t change the fact that the men who highjacked the planes had an incredible commitment to their cause. Just wait. They will be proclaimed martyrs.”

“They are not martyrs! Martyrs give up their own lives for a cause. They don’t go slaughter innocent people.”

“To them it was a justifiable act of war.”

“No Nicki. We were not at war. Even if we were, in war there are rules.”

“I wish that was true.”

“How can you be so heartless?”

“Heartless?” Nicole protested.

“Have you been watching the news?”

The images of the collapsing towers were fused into Nicole’s psyche. Hadn’t Beth heard her? She had clients in the World Trade Center. Death did not come to strangers. Nicole knew the names and faces of more than one woman and man who in all likelihood was in the towers at the moment of impact. “Yes.”

“Its tragic. Don’t you feel it?”

Nicole felt her sorrow rise, a sorrow she had struggled to contain as reports of the ever-increasing death count progressed throughout the day. “Yes, I feel it. Today was tragic. Our country has finally had to face defeat on its own shores. It wouldn’t have happened if we hadn’t failed our moral duty.”

“Don’t.” Beth’s anger cut through.

“Open your eyes Beth. The U.S. has intervened in foreign policy for generations. Our acts of self-interest don’t just affect the powerful. They go to the heart of the nations. The people bear the brunt of the pain. We exact a high price in our misguided campaigns to further our vision of a just and democratic society.” Nicole was not finished. “Why do you think choosing death is a viable option? We have tried to strip these people of their dignity and their hope. What have they left to hold on to except their hate of us? I blame the U.S. government more than I do the terrorist. We have done this to ourselves.”

“How dare you! You have no idea of the pain people are feeling. You dismiss the death and destruction, and argue a reasonable cause. I don’t give a damn about your easy political justifications. This isn’t an amoral issue. What they did was immoral.”

Beth cut Nicole more deeply than she knew. Commentators and politicians alike, invited onto the broadcast airwaves to share their perspective of the crisis, had invoked morality and God with an easy conscious. Nicole saw Beth in her chaplain’s blue jacket and she could no longer separate Beth from all the voices that had betrayed the public citizenry with their misguided rhetoric. Nicole had had enough. She wanted nothing to do with Beth’s god and the morality ascribed to that god. She spoke in a frozen voice. “Tell me Beth, what was the first cause?”

Beth was stunned into silence.

Nicole waited. She knew she had fired a salvo that hit deep into Beth’s faith. She knew it was unfair to enter a philosophical or theological debate in the near hours after the tragedy. As much as Nicole had contempt for the reality of hatred, hatred did exist. Hatred claims the human heart as its abode. Humanity’s attempt to shackle hatred, to prevent hatred from consuming its host like a cancer, is a never-ending effort. This day was testament of humanity’s failure to arrest its greatest foe, itself. Nicole tasted the bitterness of that truth and she refused to pretend otherwise.

Beth was thrown into confusion. Nicole had asked the same question Beth had heard repeatedly throughout the day except she framed it in a way that accused God of immorality. Beth had no answer. Beth had come home longing for the safety and warmth Nicole had always promised her, if not by word, then by deed. Instead, the harshness of the day was compounded. “Go then.” Beth walked to one side of Nicole and into the kitchen. Nicole watched, taking no pleasure in what she had done.

Nicole wanted nothing more than the silence that came with solitude. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m leaving tonight.”

Nicole continued an ongoing internal debate about whether to call Beth. She understood Beth’s fear, but only to a degree. Life must go on. The country was in a state of shock. Still, it could not afford to become despondent. She had her taste of destruction with the Elysian Fields fire. She had been financially prepared for the loss. She had her business recovery plan in order. But admittedly, she was not emotionally prepared for the devastation of all that had grounded her adult life. But because of the business recovery plan she had a reference point. She followed her own more reasoned thinking, documented for just an occasion. She acted through the pain because she had no choice. Nicole was driving to D.C. because life went on. It didn’t matter if a business was fire bombed or the World Trade Center was destroyed. Life went on even as symbols crumbled.

Nicole’s cell phone rang. She sighed. “Hello.”

“Nicole. It’s Brian.”

Nicole could not afford her disappointment. “Brian. What have you heard?”

“I don’t know what I’m suppose to feel. We’ve accounted for five of the twelve. Right now there is no reason to believe the rest survived. Nicole, Carrie didn’t make it.”

Nicole had tried to prepare herself for the loss of her friend. “You sure?”

“I spoke to John. She was going into the office. We checked her electronic appointment calendar from our back up files. All her morning meetings were internal.”

“How are John and the kids?”

“Devastated. Aren’t we all?”

“I’m sorry, Brian.”

“Are you still planning on driving out?”

“I’m on the road. I figured I might as well. I wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight.”

“Check in with me tomorrow.”

“I’ll call you mid-morning.”

“God bless you.”

“Take care, Brian.”

September 12, 2001

A message awaited Beth when she arrived home at the end of her workday.

“Beth, It’s Nicki. I’m in Washington. I’m staying at The Jefferson. You can call my cell phone or call me at the hotel. The number is (202) 347-2200, Room 416. Beth. I’m sorry about the way we left things yesterday. It was a tough day for both of us. I love you. Be safe.”

Beth listened to the recording with relief. She said a silent ‘thank you’ for Nicole’s well being. In spite of this, Beth’s anger did not subside. She was not ready to speak to Nicole.

September 13, 2001-Noon

The chaplains met for lunch. The aftermath of the terrorist attack had heightened their need for community. Beth’s gaze traveled from one chaplain to the other. Beginning to her left Cindy brought an easy reassurance. Peter, at twenty-eight, was one year her senior. He had a bronze tan. He dressed comfortably in khaki slacks. She thought of him as an English gardener. He had a gentle mien, a man who tends to the fragile. His intelligence was equal to his compassion, volunteered with modestly.

Paul was a well-seasoned priest who had decided to shift his life away from the parish, away from administration and shuttling between two different congregations seventy miles apart. He was, in part, an example of the escalating impact of the shortage of Catholic priests in the United States. Requested to split his efforts for five years, his stamina, physical and emotional, withered. Paul, having recently turned fifty, yearned to go back to a simpler, more personal, ministry. He chose chaplaincy. Beth enjoyed the look of Paul’s gray and white beard. It flowed down like a lion’s main upon his thin face. Paul carried an element of the wilderness with him, wherever he went. His appearance was balanced by a well-cropped head of hair; still reflecting its once youthful black tint.

Though in her late thirties, Christine conveyed the appearance of untried innocence. She tended to open her deep brown eyes widely to the world. Her smile was bright and easy. Beth saw in Christine a quality she never possessed. Life seemed to constantly astonish Christine, and yet, she had known tragedy in the loss of a child, victim of a hit and run driver, never apprehended. Christine’s life as an editor changed on that fateful day four years prior. Her devotion to God had been taken to its limit and endured. Her gratitude for her life with her husband and two children, a boy and a girl, sustained her. She lost interest in her work. Her search for meaning took her to lay ministry. A family decision was made to lay aside financial comforts in order to allow Christine to live a life of service. Christine shared a photograph of her family with Beth. Her teenage children inherited Christine’s exquisite Russian beauty and her husband’s gallant Slavic bearing.

Jerry was dressed in his standard crisp white shirt and perfectly ironed black pleated pants. Thirty-two years old, he was Nicole’s age. The resemblance between them ended there. Jerry had red hair, a light complexion and a swimmer’s built. His strong upper body tapered to a svelte waist. By word and gesture he exercised a birthright no one else was privy to. He purposely claimed his space by spreading his lunch widely in front of him, placing his cafeteria tray at the center of table.

A second year seminary student who went directly from high school to college to seminary in pursuit of her vocation, Jamie was the youngest of the chaplains. She wore her long blond hair in an intricate ponytail braid, the elegance of which countered her youthful appearance. Of medium height and build she carried herself with a fragile self-assurance. In many ways she was the most vulnerable of the chaplains. She struggled to claim her pastoral voice. She felt the constant challenge of ministering to those who were far older and more experienced in life. She relied upon the conviction of her heartfelt calling, a liberal religious perspective and a desire to minister to the infirm and the desolate. Jamie did not expect her ministry to remain solely in a hospital setting. She wanted to divide her ministry between the ill and those living with the realities of the urban streets. The streets where drugs, alcohol, sex, disease and violence claim the futures of the most vulnerable, often the youngest. Beth was impressed by Jamie’s zeal. Having experience in ministering to the impoverished, Beth hoped Jamie would never cease finding the tenderness struggling to survive at the center of the harsh concrete and asphalt cityscape.

As a Methodist, Nathaniel was historically the closest to Beth’s theological Anglican roots. But Beth soon learned Nathaniel’s theology was far more conservative than her own. His black skin glistened in the light; often due to a sheen of perspiration provoked by what Beth guessed was his discomfort with both the medical and theological environment of the hospital. He was a handsome, introspective young man, pleasant and gentle. He was scheduled to graduate seminary after completing his fieldwork. Like Beth and Paul, he was beginning his second quarter of CPE. Beth wondered why he had chosen to return to complete a CPE residency. She pictured him far more comfortable leading a small parish.

Their discussion had begun as a generic comparison of those to whom they were providing pastoral care. Soon, the discussion shifted. They became their own subject. The subject was the Round Table.

Jamie offered. “My point is, that in spite of our diversity, we are all Christians.”

Cindy looked over to the younger student. “Don’t assume we all agree on what it means to be a Christian or that our differences aren’t important.”

“Well, where do you want to start?” Jerry was eager to create a forum for the exchange of ideas.

Nathaniel did not match Jerry’s enthusiasm. “I’m not sure I want to.” He garnered everyone’s attention. “I’m sorry, but I came here to learn to be a chaplain, not to get into theological debates.”

Jerry was not deterred. “But isn’t this a great opportunity to learn about each other’s faiths? That is one of the reasons the CPE program tries to bring in diversity.”

Jamie gently affirmed Jerry. “I agree. Being able to articulate our faith can only help us in our ministry.”

“How about when we disagree?” Peter raised his coffee cup to his lips as he waited for a response.

Jerry continued to advocate his vision for the Round Table rules of engagement. “Respect. The same respect we give the patients and their families and friends.”

Cindy qualified. “As long as our respect doesn’t end with Christianity.”

“The atheists don’t ask to see us.” Jerry laughed. “That’s why the hospital has that little question in the admittance form. ‘Do you want the chaplains to stay the hell out of your room?’”

Peter mused. “Funny thing is how much we have in common with atheists.”

Jamie glanced his way. “I can understand you saying that about Jews and Muslims and Hindus, but what do we have in common with people who deny God?”

“For them there is no God so life happens and you accept it and go on. For us, God has a wisdom beyond our understanding so life happens and you accept it and go on.”

Jerry offered a caveat. “If you believe in predestination.”

“Since when? I believe in free will and I still struggle to accept the wisdom of God.”

Jerry swept his hair back, not making any effort to hide his frustration with the direction in which Peter was leading the conversation.

Peter continued. “God made a decision to give us free will and because of that, World Trade Towers get destroyed and I’m left to try to figure out why.”

Nathaniel’s voice cut through the conversation. “Where’s your faith?”

Jerry took advantage of Nathaniel’s challenge and continued to rebut Peter. “Hate to say it but Nathaniel’s got a point. You are kidding yourself if you think you can reason your way into explaining what happened Tuesday.”

Paul’s low, gentle words provided a sense of calm. “I feel like we’ve been thrown back to the 13th century. Plato versus Aristotle, Bonaventure versus Aquinas.”

Jerry flexed. “Don’t forget Augustine.”

Christine leaned back overwhelmed. “Okay. I admit I’m fuzzy on the distinction.”

Paul placed his mature hand on her arm. “Bonaventure relied on traditional orthodoxy originally influenced by Plato. Plato acknowledged the existence of the divine and the incompleteness of the material world and our ability to know it. By the 13th century, the Crusades had opened up Western Europe to the East, including the works of Muslim and Jewish thinkers who had been commenting on the writings of Aristotle. Aristotle argued that mankind, with the information provided by the senses, could use reason to identify truths that held not only for the specific, but also, for the universal. So, relying on Aristotle, the argument was raised that we could use reason to better know God. That’s Aquinas.”

“Where’s Augustine?”

“With Bonaventure.”

Peter critiqued. “Augustine’s argument was circular and left free will out of the equation. Contemporary theologians don’t give it much merit.”

Paul continued. “But remember, as much as Aquinas tried to use reason in his theology, he was the first to admit that ultimately some things could only be known through God’s grace.”

“Like the existence of God.” The table occupants were drawn to Beth.

“Do you believe that is why your partner doesn’t believe in God? She hasn’t been given God’s grace?” Jerry’s comment was not well received by his peers. He was oblivious to the effect he was having.

Beth felt a rising defensiveness. “Nicki acknowledges the divine in all humanity.”

Christine was curious. “How has she been dealing with the terrorist attack?”

“Nicki left for Washington D.C. Tuesday night to help a client that had offices in the World Trade Center. We haven’t connected except by voice mail.”

Cindy was impressed. “How did she get to D.C.?”

“She drove.”

Christine continued her query. “If she finds the divine in all of us, does she believe we are inherently good?”

“We are good. But she also acknowledges that we are imperfect.”

Jerry interjected. “That’s the evil.”

Jamie argued. “But that isn’t necessarily how I, as a Christian, define evil.”

Christine struggled to comprehend the nuance of faiths. “How do you define evil?”

“Separation from God.”

“God who is perfect.” Jerry stated in triumph having made his point.

Nathaniel attempted to be heard. “Adam and Eve. Before the fall….”

Cindy decided to purposely shake the foundation in which the argument stood. “If they had been perfect there wouldn’t have been a fall. We were made imperfect by God.”

Peter countered. “What you call imperfect, I call free will.”

Cindy remained constant. “I’m sorry but I take Genesis as symbolic. I read it as allegory not history. Sin, and at its worst, evil are part of the human condition.”

“It’s the Bible. The word of God.” Nathaniel pressed what he felt was a minority opinion.

His peers once again paused. It was Jamie who spoke first. “I hate to break up the fun. But it’s one o’clock.”

With a sense of relief, Christine took her cafeteria tray in hand and rose to her feet. If the Round Table discussions were going to continue in this fashion, she might spend more of her lunchtime in the hospital library, away from the fray.

September 13, 2001-P.M.

Beth was called to Oncology to provide Holy Communion for a Catholic patient. At the nurses’ station she solicited the assistance of Bonnie, one of the Catholic nurses. Catholic doctrine allowed a non-Catholic to recite the liturgy, but not to administer the host.

Beth and Bonnie stepped behind Robert’s curtained bed in a shared room.

“Hello Robert. My name is Beth.”

“Hi, Chaplain.”

“I’m told you would like Communion.”

“Yes.” He smiled brightly. He looked over to the familiar nurse. “It takes two of you?”

Beth explained. “I’m not Catholic.”

“Well, I won’t hold that against you.”

Beth smiled. “Thank you. Are you ready to begin?”

“Just give me a moment.” Robert closed his eyes.

Beth observed the elder gentleman. He had been admitted that morning. Bonnie said that his cancer had been in remission. It now returned. Given his age and previous chemo treatments, his doctor felt a new course of chemo would do more harm than good. He would soon be discharged to a hospice.

Robert opened his eyes. They were bright and clear. Beth envied the spirit she saw in them. “I’m ready.”

Beth began the service. At the appropriate moment she nodded to Bonnie. Bonnie placed the host on Robert’s extended tongue. He took the host into his mouth and closed his eyes. His hands held in prayer before him. Beth and Bonnie stood in silence giving Robert time to experience the sacrament fully. He opened his eyes. Beth saw in Robert the trusting acceptance of a true child of God.

After Beth closed the service, she placed her hand on Robert’s arm. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No, thank you, Chaplain.” Robert turned his attention to Bonnie. “Thank you both.”

Bonnie smiled. “Robert, I’ll be by later to check in on you.”

Beth thanked Bonnie as the latter walked beyond the curtain to return to her duties. Robert lay back against his bed and closed his eyes. Beth could see the furrows in his brow relax. She knew that it did not matter whether she was ordained or not, as an Episcopalian she would always need to seek out a Catholic to assist in offering communion to a Catholic. Still, she mourned the loss of her priesthood. The power of the sacrament was a mystery she could never reason. She felt its undeniable, consuming grace. Beth felt the loss of not attending a service, of not participating in communion after she left St. Ann’s.

Beth closed Robert’s curtain completely before leaving him to sleep.

“You really believe that will help?” Beth was summoned by a gravel voice.

“Excuse me?” Beth gave the thin male patient whose bed resided beside Robert’s her consideration. The patient was in his mid-forties. His salt and pepper hair was disheveled. He worn his blue and white horizontal patterned pajama top half opened down his chest.

“Praying. Do you really think someone’s listening?” The patient pointed to Robert’s curtained bed.

Beth looked over the bed headboard where the patient’s name was listed - Michael Briggs. “Yes, I do.”

“God mustn’t think much of us then.”

“What makes you say so?”

“A lot of unanswered prayers.” He smiled wryly.

Beth did not want this conversation. She attempted to gracefully separate herself from the patient. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

The man laughed in cynical satisfaction. “I’ve got pancreatic cancer. What on earth could you do for me?”

“I’m sorry.”

Michael saw a dullness lying behind Beth’s eyes. Beth did not embody the religious fervor he had pictured in his quarry. “Why are you sorry? You don’t know me.”

Beth deflected the question away from herself. “Are you in pain?”

“At least I’m going to die soon. Not like all the poor bastards that are living in this God-forsaken place.”

Beth was tired, too tired not to engage. “God hasn’t forsaken us.”

Michael sensed that Beth did not believe her own reassurance. “Right. Go on praying and see if it makes a difference…. Come back in a few weeks. This bed ‘ll be empty and I’ll be long buried.”

“Excuse me.” Beth felt a strangling darkness surround her. She did not have the strength to stand against it. She stepped out and walked down the corridor until she was clear of Michael’s sight. She stopped and leaned her back against the wall. She closed her eyes and bowed her head. She whispered. “Please. Where are you?”

September 13, 2001-Evening

The apartment was unlit. Beth sat on the sunroom couch staring out the window, seeing nothing. She could find no balm for her grief. The telephone ring intruded upon her much desired seclusion. She got up and walked to the living room where the cordless phone rested.

“Hello.”

“Hi.”

Beth recognized Nicole’s voice. Her greeting was void of warmth. “Nicki.”

“How are you?”

“It’s been a hard week.” Beth paused trying to tap a grain of concern. “How’s D.C.?”

“Tense. People are afraid. They’re also grieving. How is it at the hospital?”

“The same.”

“I may not be able to come home for a couple of weeks.”

“I didn’t expect you would.” Beth’s voice hung hollow over the line.

Nicole heeded Beth’s reserve. “Beth. I’m sorry. Tuesday wasn’t the time to say the things I said.”

Beth indicted Nicole. “But you still believe what you said was true?”

Nicole realized Beth was not going to allow them to move beyond their disagreement with ease. “Yes.” Beth offered Nicole no response. Against her better judgment, Nicole attempted to explain herself. “Beth. I don’t condemn religion; only how some people pervert it for their own purposes. And like I said, Tuesday wasn’t about religion, it was about foreign policy.”

“Nicki. I don’t have much time. I’m going to a prayer service tonight.”

“I understand. Do you have plans for the weekend?”

“I don’t have much free time. I’m on duty Saturday.”

Nicole felt she was being discouraged to attempt further contact. She found Beth’s behavior hard to justify. Disheartened, she chose not to impose herself any further. “I won’t keep you any longer.” Nicole paused for a heartbeat. “I love you, Beth.”

Beth struggled. “Take care, Nicki.”

Nicole waited for the words that did not come. She held the telephone receiver with diminishing hope. All anticipation ended when she heard a click as Beth severed their connection.

September 14, 2001-Noon

Beth and Cindy joined the other chaplains at the Round Table. Cindy whispered to Peter. “So, what’s the subject of the day?”

Peter responded in equal voice. “Heresies.”

Cindy quipped. “Jerry must have read a book.”

Peter laughed.

Beth ate quietly, listening to the variety of heresies her fellow chaplains identified and commented upon.

“It all started with the Trinity.” Jerry continued his un-elected leadership role.

“I hate to correct you, Jerry, but the first heresy had nothing to do with the Trinity.” Paul placed the gauntlet before the young seminarian.

“Oh?”

“The first heresy was between Christ and the Jews. The issue was the Law.”

Peter was at ready to enjoy himself. “Paul is right. That was the crux of St. Paul’s ministry to the Gentiles. Did the converts have to become Jews before they could follow the teachings of the Messiah?”

“Fine. Then it was the Trinity.” Jerry asserted.

“Wrong.” Jamie felt comfortable arguing the facts of history over theology. “It was the Gnostics and the Marcions. That led to the creation of the Canon and the ‘symbol of faith.’”

Christine needed clarification of the latter. “The Apostles’ Creed?”

Jamie confirmed. “Yes.”

Nathaniel decided to join in. “After that Novatian challenged Cyprian about readmission of the lapsed to the Church and it was at that same time that Arius argued that the Word was not God. The Council of Nicea decided both issues.”

Peter offered. “And that wasn’t until 325.”

“And from then on the Trinity dominated the heresies until Luther.” Jerry was determined to win a point.

Cindy protested. “Hold it. You’re missing two heretics that are close to my heart. Wycliffe and Hus both preceded Luther in arguing the primacy of Scripture.”

Jamie expanded. “Yes, and Wycliffe also disagreed with the doctrine of transubstantiation.” Jamie looked over to Paul. “Sorry, Paul.”

Paul waved his hand dismissing any concern for the difference in doctrine. “We are all heretics. It’s just a matter of perspective.”

Jerry’s dominancy had been arrested with glee by the Round Table. Not to be thwarted, he altered the focus to the one who had yet to speak. He called out. “Beth. You haven’t said anything.”

Cindy, who sat to Beth’s right, placed her hand on Beth’s arm. Beth looked up. Cindy nodded over to Jerry. Jerry goaded. “Living with Nicole. What’s your opinion?”

Beth had yet to understand why Jerry chose to make her a target. She tried not to engage, but he did not make it easy. No matter Beth’s current feelings toward her partner, she would not allow anyone to denigrate Nicole, especially when they did it out of ignorance. “Jerry. Have you opened a dictionary lately?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because you seem to think Nicole is a heretic. A heretic is someone who dissents from an established church’s accepted doctrine on belief. Since Nicole isn’t part of a church, she can’t be described as a heretic. I, on the other hand, am a heretic because even though in my heart I am still an Episcopalian, I don’t agree with the Episcopalian Church’s position on homosexuality and I hope one day I’ll speak out, without hesitation, against it.” Beth leaned forward. “You would also be wrong to call Nicole a Pagan because that is technically defined as a follower of a polytheistic religion or someone who has little or no religion or who’s primary cares are for the sensual and for material goods. Nicole is not polytheistic. She has a faith she believes in profoundly and though I can swear to her ability to make most of the sensual pleasures in life, she does not, in spite of her wealth, dwell on material belongings. Now, if you call Nicole a heathen, you might be close, because a heathen is defined as an unconverted member of a people or nation who does not acknowledge the God of the Bible, which Nicole admits she is. The only problem is that Nicole takes exception to the secondary definition of a heathen as an uncivilized or irreligious person. No one who has met Nicole would describe her as uncivilized and like I already said, she is a woman of deep faith. Got that?”

Jerry was stunned by Beth’s succinct lesson. She had never spoken with such vehemence at the Round Table, or elsewhere, for that matter. He leaned back against his chair. The other chaplains struggled to suppress their smiles. To the one, they all knew, through their private and small group conversations with Beth, that she was a formidable theologian in the making. Given Jerry’s undisguised animosity, Beth had shunned him. Whenever he was in the vicinity, she consciously limited her contribution to any discussion. He was thus not privy to her intellectual force, other than what was to him the occasional suspect praise that another chaplain bestowed upon her.

Beth did not wait for an answer. She stood up, taking her cafeteria tray. Christine joined her. They walked back toward the kitchen where the trays could be placed on a conveyor belt, which carried them to the hospital’s dishwashing operations.

Christine relished the Round Table exchange. “Sending Jerry back to the dictionary was great.”

“Why shouldn’t I? Nicki did the same thing to me.”

“She did?”

Beth laughed a small laugh. “Yes. Why else would I have the definitions down so pat?”

“Because you looked them up yourself?”

“There is always a reason behind the learning.”

Christine had been raised in the Catholic Church. She had learned a great deal during her lay ministry training but admittedly, the point of view taught was that of the Catholic Church. Her breadth of formal knowledge did not match that of her chaplain peers. She was beginning to enjoy listening to the other perspectives shared during the Round Table gatherings. What Beth had shared about Nicole was even farther afield from the Round Table’s Christian perspectives and Christine was intellectually challenged by its foreignness. “Beth, how does Nicole describe her faith?”

Beth placed her tray down on the conveyor belt. “She doesn’t really. When push comes to shove she’ll say she’s a Materialist Pantheist. Few people understand what that means and I know that, for Nicki, it’s still an incomplete statement.”

“Materialistic?”

“In terms of the soul. She doesn’t see her existence beyond life as she knows it.”

“No afterlife?”

Beth confirmed. “No afterlife.”

“Then where does she find her hope?”

“In the good. In spite of everything, she still can see the good.”

Christine did not shy from acknowledging the incredibility she glimpsed in life. “How on earth did you two get together?”

“That’s a long story.” The two began walking back to their units. “Nicki is smart and caring. She’s intense and gentle. She’s strong and on rare occasions she’s even strong enough to let me see her when she’s vulnerable. She didn’t ask anything from me except respect.”

“Why wouldn’t you have respected her?”

“That’s a good question.”

September 15, 2001

Beth had a relatively quiet day alone at the hospital. During the evening she walked through the university campus. She found the grounds beautiful, intoxicating. The tradition of theological scholarship at UC awaited her. She looked forward. In a year’s time she too would be a student. She entered the University Seminary Bookstore and browsed the titles. She continued reading during her leisure hours, feeding her intellectual hunger, independently preparing for her Ph.D. studies.

Even though she had not actively participated in The Round Table discussions, Beth was fascinated with the broad scope of subjects chosen and opinions revealed by her fellow chaplains. The previous day’s joint rebuff of Jerry gave her hope that the playing field could become comfortable for all to participate. After two weeks she had reached her limit with Jerry, no longer willing to passively take his guff. She was well aware that the other chaplains welcomed her voice at the table. Cindy caught Beth at the ICU and quipped that Beth could probably look forward to having Jerry in her small group next quarter. Beth had not considered the very real possibility. The CPU Supervisors altered small group composition in order to allow the chaplains a broader opportunity to obtain feedback from their peers. She resolved that if she was going to have to tolerate Jerry in small group it was best to establish boundaries early.

No one had yet been able to explain Jerry’s behavior toward her. From what she could gather he was a capable chaplain. She hesitated in considering intolerance as the cause. However, she was not willing to discount the possibility without first researching the Lutheran -Missouri Synod position toward homosexuality. The Synod’s position was clear. Homosexuality was a sin, one sin among the many sins of humanity. It was the Church’s intent to uphold the teachings of the Scripture. It argued that homosexuality was a distortion of God’s intention of having man and woman live in marriage. Still, the Church’s position included a statement that it must resist any reaction of persecution and ostracism. If Jerry was a good Missouri Synod Lutheran, Beth was right to expect nothing less than courtesy. The thought of whether to propose the subject of homosexuality at a Round Table discussion passed through her mind. She wondered how her peers would address the subject when it lay naked before them, when she sat present, an embodiment of what many call a sin. Jerry’s denomination was not the only one at the table that took exception to full inclusion of homosexuals in the Church.

Surrounded by stacks of books, Beth’s thoughts shifted to Nicole. She wanted to tell Nicole of this treasure of a bookstore. Beth knew Nicole would be in a heaven on earth taking in the extraordinary selection of volumes ranging all the humanities.

The juxtaposition of Jerry and Nicole was telling. It sometimes seemed Nicole disagreed with every position Beth took, but at least she tried her best to do so respectfully. The only exception Beth could recall was during the heat of their argument on September 11th. Instead of sweeping Beth’s arguments aside, Nicole challenged them directly, with an honest regard. Nicole was also well apt to further her study of opposing positions, open to the potential that within them lay an insight of merit. Jerry, Beth suspected, was quick to close or ignore a book that disturbed him —contrary to Nicole’s effort to seek the book out and, with extraordinary skill, attempt to integrate the knowledge it held with the store of knowledge she already possessed.

September 16, 2001-Chicago

Beth sipped her coffee in the sunroom. Work had filled her days, distracting her from Nicole’s absence. This day she had to herself. Nicole was somewhere in Washington. It had been more than two days since they had spoken. Given the reception Beth gave her when last she called, Beth could not fault Nicole for not calling or sending her an email. Beth reached for the telephone.

September 16, 2001-Washington D.C.

Brian insisted that Nicole take the day off. He encouraged her to get away from the city. After a valiant protest through her own exhaustion, Nicole relented. Work redirected her thoughts away from Beth. Nicole renewed her internal debate whether to call Beth. It was 7:00 a.m. in Washington. She knew Beth had worked the hospital the previous day. It was far too early to call her. Nicole decided to drive to Shenandoah National Park. The park was a treasure, one she had escaped to on numerous occasions when her D.C. consulting assignments allowed.

Nicole parked the Jeep. She swung her backpack over her shoulder and took to the trail. Her reward upon reaching the isolated trail’s end would be a magnificent waterfall, forty feet in height. She chose this particular trail because it was lesser known. She longed for solitude.

As she hiked, she began to feel the first hint of a headache. Unfortunately, the fresh air did not soothe the pulsating pain. In fact, she felt it intensifying. She reached the waterfall with a sense of relief. She would rest, eat, and hope for physical renewal. She lay against a tree with a clear view of the stream of water falling into the base pool before flowing down further into the valley. The arrested power reminded her of the Lake Michigan shoreline. The waters fall long and hard, yet survive intact, within the embrace of an essence similar to itself and yet unique in its own right.

Nicole sat back, eyes closed, allowing the sounds of the waterfall to carry her away from her pain. The transition to a union with Beth had its difficult moments. And yet, Nicole’s longing was for Chicago, Hyde Park, the apartment, Beth, all that meant home.

Thirsty, she opened her eyes and reached for her water bottle. The water she brought with her was cool and the taste of it was a welcomed refresher. She looked over to the turkey sandwich, apple and orange. A wave of nausea struck her. “Damn.” She leaned her head back and closed her eyes again. She was worsening physically. She felt a numbness traveling down her left arm and hand. These symptoms were new to her. The headache sharpened. She involuntarily raised her right hand to her head, dropping her water bottle in the process.

September 17, 2001-Washington D.C.

Her bedside telephone rang. “Nicole Thera.”

“Nicki. It’s Kate.”

“Hey.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Better. I’m going to be released later today.”

“Is that a good idea?”

“I told you I was admitted for observation. Nothing more.”

“They could keep you another day and make sure they got your medication right this time.”

Nicole smiled to herself. “Are you in the mood for a malpractice suit?”

“Pro bono.”

“Down tiger!”

“Have you spoken to Beth?”

“Not yet.”

Will you please tell me again why you haven’t called her?”

“I’ve got my reasons.”

“She’s a big girl. She can handle this. For God’s sake she was with you after your operation.”

“Beth has enough to deal with at the hospital right now. If it was serious I would tell her.”

“On the other hand, since your diagnosis isn’t serious…”

“Kate!”

“Nicki!”

“Be a friend, will ya.”

“I am, or haven’t you noticed?”

“I’ve noticed.”

“When are you coming home?”

“I’m hoping to leave next Thursday. I’ll be home by Friday.”

“Damn if you’re driving.”

“I’m not leaving the Jeep here indefinitely.”

“Arrangements can be made.”

“Getting a flight is still near impossible. My doctors agreed it would be okay as long as I stabilize.”

“Same doctors who gave you your original prescription.”

“Which worked fine for ten months. Give them some credit.”

“All right.” Kate resigned herself. “Now, don’t give me any more reasons to worry about you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Good to know. Call me tomorrow.”

“Will do.”

“And Nicki.”

“Yeah.”

“Call Beth.”

September 17, 2001-Evening

Beth sat at Nicole’s desk, holding her prayer beads in her right hand. Their personal line rang. Beth pushed the button on Nicole’s desk phone and picked up the receiver. “Hello.”

“Hi.”

“Nicki. Where have you been? I tried your cell phone and kept on being told it was either out of the calling zone or not in service. I spoke to your hotel reception. All they would tell me was that you were seen leaving yesterday morning.”

“I’m sorry. I took a drive to Shenandoah National Park. I knew I was out of the calling zone and turned the cell phone off. I forgot to turn it back on.”

“Why didn’t you call last night?”

“By the time I got your message it was late.”

“Next time wake me.”

“Hopefully there won’t be a next time.”

“Are things better in D.C.?”

“Not really. I went to Shenandoah because Brian Montgomery, the V.P. of Operations, insisted I take the day off. It’s not going to be better here for quite a while. And it will never be the same.”

“Nicki. I love you. You can be maddening, but I still love you.”

“Don’t stop. I need you.”

“When are you coming home?”

“Depends. I might be able to drive home on Thursday. If I do, I can stay only for a few days before flying back East.”

“New York?”

“Boston is also a possibility.”

“Nicki.” Beth admonished.

“Beth. I have to do this. Not all my clients have their business continuation plans in order. They are fighting for survival. And even those that weren’t directly hurt by the attack are doing everything they can to catch-up before something else happens.”

“Do you think the attacks will continue?”

“I don’t know. If someone told me a week ago that terrorist were going to highjack and fly two commercial airplanes into the World Trade Center towers, I would have asked what movie script they had been reading.”

“It is all so fantastic. I still find it hard to believe.”

Nicole found it impossible to silence her longing for Beth. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too. Come home, Nicki.”

“Count on me for dinner Friday night.”

“Promise.”

“I’ll do my best, Beth.”

“Then I’ll see you Friday.”

Nicole wished she had the same confidence in her abilities.

September 21, 2001-A.M

Nicole arrived in Chicago by late Friday morning. With Beth working at the hospital she took advantage of her free time to go to Chamberlain Development. Jason entered the design department. Nicole stood beside his son, Alex and the development’s primary architect, Laura. “Nicole. Do you think you might be able to give me a few minutes?”

“I don’t know Jason. Alex and Laura have me under a tight timeline.”

Alex quipped. “I think we can spare you for a few minutes.”

Jason responded in kind. “That is very generous of you, son.”

Nicole and Jason walked down the corridor toward Jason’s office. Jason placed his hand on Nicole’s arm. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.”

“You gave me quite a scare. Have you thought of slowing down?”

“You may not believe me but I have.”

“Well, your pace puts the rest of us to shame.”

“Jason. In all due modesty, I’m good at what I do. I don’t put in as many hours as some people may think.”

“So, I’ve imagined all the twelve hour days you’ve worked on the development.”

“The truth is right now I’m not ready to go home.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No. It’s not like that. Beth is working until 4:30. And there is something I need to tell her. I’m working up the courage.”

“Your health scare?”

“There is something else.”

“Well, I’m confident you’ll get through it. You are one of the bravest women I’ve ever known.”

“Thank you, but taking risks in the business world doesn’t compare to the personal.”

“I wasn’t thinking of your business acumen. Beth is a lovely young woman. Loving someone with a religious vocation must have its own unique challenges.”

“Loving Beth is the easiest thing I’ve ever done. And, it’s also the hardest. There is nothing superficial about her. Once she let me in…. She has great depth. Her faith is extraordinary.”

“Then you can be confident that whatever you need to say to her she’ll have her faith to help her.”

“May I ask you a personal question?”

“Of course. This seems to have become a personal conversation after all.” They had reached Jason’s office. “Come in.”

“You loved your wife?”

Jason walked around to his desk chair. He motioned for Nicole to take a seat opposite of him. “Very much.”

Nicole sat in one of the two tall back chairs available to her. “How did you bear losing her?”

“Maggie’s breast cancer was in its advanced stages when she was diagnosed. Chemo may have brought her a few months more, but that wasn’t how she wanted to live or die. So, the doctors managed her pain. I gave Alex the run of the shop and Maggie and I spent her remaining four months together. Every day I lost a little bit of her and every day I got a little bit more of her. I wasn’t prepared for her death. Nothing could prepare me for the last breath she took. I cried. I didn’t stop crying until after her funeral. It’s been seven years and I still cry for her. Maggie was so alive. She begged me to live on. She asked only one favor and that was that I wouldn’t end up with a young woman my daughter’s age for at least two years after her death. After that she said all bets were off and she wouldn’t feel I had tarnished her dignity by going off with a filly.”

“You haven’t remarried.”

Jason reached for a photograph frame from his desk and offered it to Nicole. “Her name is Katherine. She’s five years younger than I am. Maggie would approve. We’ve known each other for three years now. Katherine’s divorced and doesn’t want to remarry. I’m happy to have her. I would like the ring but I can do without it.”

Nicole studied the photograph of the attractive woman. “She’s lovely.”

“Now tell me. Why do you ask?”

“I can’t seem to get a grasp on the future.”

“Then don’t. Maggie proved to me that the only future you need is the next breath you take.”

“She knew. I don’t.”

“We all know, we just don’t know when. I may be presumptuous, but I think you have an opportunity to turn your illness into an asset. Maggie told me she experienced life more vividly once she came to accept her diagnosis. In some ways, the closer she came to death the more alive she felt. Nicole, by saying this to you I don’t mean to infer that you would be right to live expecting your imminent death. You can still learn the lesson and have a very long life.”

“Jason. You’ve misunderstood. I’m not frightened for myself.” (???)

September 21, 2001-PM

It was mid-afternoon and Nicole wanted to make one more connection before returning home. She had called Jacob to set a coffee date. With Liza’s blessing, they walked over to the neighborhood diner together. Given the time of day there were few customers. They choose a secluded booth. Jacob removed his pipe and tobacco bag from his pocket. Nicole pointed to the ‘No-Smoking’ sign. Jacob grimaced and returned the tobacco bag to his pocket. He then placed the pipe between his lips enjoying the familiar comfort the instrument gave him. They spoke casually, renewing their bond. Jacob knew there was something specific on Nicole’s mind. He waited patiently for her to find her way to it.

“Are you sure they weren’t Anglican prayer beads?

“Never heard of them. How does a Jew know so much about Christians?”

Jacob laughed. “You seem concerned. Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.”

“It was all so unexpected. Beth’s reaction was so strong.”

“She was in deep prayer.”

“I can’t share that with her.”

“No. I suppose you cannot. Nicole, Beth is very faithful to God. She loves God in a way you will never be able to understand.”

“She loves her God.” Nicole qualified.

Jacob leaned forward over the table and slapped Nicole’s arm. “Don’t make me ashamed of you.”

“What?”

“Do not be jealous of Beth’s love for God. If you take that love from her you will make her far less the woman she is. Beth will not be the woman you have grown to love.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t.”

Nicole glared at Jacob.

Jacob echoed. “You do not know, Nicole.”

“I have a reverence for life.”

“You have no God. When you speak of the divine you speak of the sacredness in all of us. It is the beauty of God’s creation and I will not argue with your vision. But it is divinity on an equal plane with your self. That is not Beth’s God. Hers, as mine, is a higher power. God is beyond and greater than Beth. Beth prays to God. What she prays, I do not know. Nor do you, I might add. So do not presume. Prayer is too intimate an act for to reason. If you must know, ask her.”

“I didn’t expect this.”

“Then you are a fool. You told me yourself, Beth did not leave her faith. She left the Church. I believe without her church she needs her faith more than ever. Of course she prays. That is who she is. There is nothing to prevent you from talking to her about her prayer. Tell me. Have you ever told Beth of your prayer….May I accept the grace of life…”

“…with humility, seeking goodness within myself and others.”

“Do you still say it?”

“Yes, but it’s not a prayer in the same sense as Beth’s prayers.”

“Does Beth know you say it?”

“I’ve never …”

“So. You resent her prayer said privately, quietly, when she thought you were in the den and yet as you sat in the den you could have very well been saying your own prayer without her knowledge.”

“I do not resent that she prays…Jacob, I feel a distance between us.”

“Do not blame God. I believe you are more comfortable with Beth as a scholar than as a priest. Beth, the scholar, allows you to maintain an academic distance to her theology.”

“Do you and Liza…do you have conversations with her like you do with me?”

“It is different. There is no embarrassment.”

“I’m not embarrassed.”

“Nicole. I don’t mean to hurt you.”

“Jacob. Tell me. What is the difference?”

“The godless people I have met are pale to me. There is a dullness. If I mention God they give me a hollow look. They think I am terribly disillusioned. Maybe, just a dupe. I ask them what is meaningful to them. They speak of the material. I cannot help but feel they are not experiencing life to the fullest. I do not mention God again because I have seen their hesitation and I prefer to avoid it. With Liza, and the members of Temple, praise to God slips from the tongue as naturally as water flowing down a mountain spring. With you, my Nicole, I stand at the river’s edge, never carried upon it. You speak of the divine and I can see that it is a profound divinity you have found. But, it is still not my personal God. I speak to you about theology. I am more comfortable speaking to Beth about my personal God.”

“So, there is nothing I can do.”

“You have a lovely home. It was Liza who mentioned to me as we came home from our dinner with you and Beth that she saw no cross other than the one Beth wore. It surprised her. And I admit, it surprised me as well.”

“Beth has never mentioned it.”

“No doubt, out of respect to your beliefs.”

“Jacob, she knows I accept her faith.”

“Do you affirm it?”

“Yes.”

“How often?”

“Jacob.”

“I am serious, Nicole. Have you attended service with her?”

“When we went to Holy Hill.”

“A Catholic service where she could not partake of the Eucharist. It has been a year, has it not?”

“She hasn’t asked me to join her.”

“Must she ask? Haven’t you done things for Beth simply because it makes her happy?”

“Yes.”

“Why must Beth’s faith be different? What would gratify her more than having you beside her when she worships? It is not as if you are being any less true to your own beliefs. I am not talking about conversion. I am simply talking about sharing. Nicole, for heaven’s sake, Beth has left her church. Can you not conceive how shaken she must feel?”

“She doesn’t talk to me about how she feels about leaving the Church.”

“And it is more comfortable for you this way. You don’t have to feel the irrational responsibility of taking her way from St. Ann’s.”

Nicole’s anger surfaced. “It was her choice!”

Jacob snapped back. “Does that make it any less painful for her?”

Nicole was stymied. Jacob sipped his coffee as Nicole fell into a thoughtful silence.

The elder wanted to help his ward understand. “Nicole, do you know the word yada?”

“No.”

“It is Hebrew. It is used in the Torah to express all manner of knowing. At times it refers to a child not being able to distinguish between good and evil. It is used to describe the knowledge of a wise man. Knowledge gained by experience as well as contemplative perception. It describes the most intimate acquaintance and it describes knowing in terms of the marriage bed. And finally, it is used in ones relation to the divine, in our acquaintance with God. There is a knowing that is yours to have. You are not a child. You know the difference between right and wrong. You can know Beth both as an intimate and in the marriage bed.”

Nicole smiled internally at Jacob’s reference to the marriage bed.

“You must trust Beth. You must open yourself up like a book and allow her to read you. Better yet, you read of yourself to her. You cannot protect Beth. You are wrong to believe you can. You must share with her your hopes and fears, your joys and sorrows. If she is who you believe her to be, she will welcome the intimacy…the truth. Your truth may break her heart but it is a pain that she will feel only because she loves you. It is a break of heart that will bring you closer to one another.”

“Is that what Liza gives you?”

“Liza. My Liza is very patient. When we first met I would give her only a word here and there. With time I was able to put words together and share a thought. More time and I told her brief stories, more pictures, snapshots, of what I had seen, what I still see in my mind’s eye. And then the merciful day came when I could share complete chapters of my story with her. Often crying in her lap, as if I were a babe. My Liza listened. She held me. She cried with me as I cursed God and she cried with me as I begged for God to return to me.”

Jacob looked down. He was visibly moved. Nicole took his hand allowing the old man the time he needed to compose him self.

“Yada.” Jacob nodded his head, refocusing on the original lesson. “Yes, we were talking about yada. Nicole, you have lived a life with an open mind, heart and spirit. You have wisdom. Yada will come to you if you pause and contemplate, giving time and space for questions to be formed and answers to come forth. But you must understand that there is a knowing that is beyond you. You will never know God. And because of that there is a part of Beth that will always be out of your reach. It is something you cannot share. It is a loss that I am grateful I have not suffered with Liza.”

“Jacob, what if one day I fall asleep in Beth’s arms and never wake up?”

The turn of focus from Beth’s faith to Nicole’s health was unexpected. Jacob was fearful. His voice involuntarily raised a notch. “I thought the doctors said you have recovered well.”

“They did.”

“You cannot stop loving - which is, my child, living - because of the inevitable loss.”

“How can you stand it? I find myself wanting to cry every time I hold Beth. And when we make love - I feel desperate.”

“Nicole, give Beth your tears.”

“She’s going through a lot right now. I don’t want her to worry about me.”

“You are a wrong to think she does not worry about you. How could she not?”

September 21, 2001-Evening

In loving Beth, Nicole yearned to understand Beth. To understand Beth she knew she needed to understand Beth’s faith. Given the lingering tension because of September 11th Nicole hesitated in broaching the subject of faith with Beth, at least not until she had a clearer understanding, one that would enable her to pose reasonable questions. During her undergraduate studies Nicole studied the Hebrew Bible and Christian New Testament and she had been exposed to a degree of Christian History, but Nicole was not confident that she had sufficient grounding in the theological development of various Christian dogmas. Her focus had always been the classical Greek philosophers.

Nicole leaned against her desk, looking at the wall of shelving only partially populated with books. The task of rebuilding her library was, during these trying times, one of her few pleasures. She considered the seven new volumes she had purchased that afternoon. The clerk had given her a puzzled look. Nicole said nothing as she accepted the return of her credit card.

It was good to be home. The day had been filled to the brim and she had yet to see Beth. Nicole closed her eyes. She could feel her body complete. She felt the renewal of her health and took pleasure in it. She had admittedly begun to take her health for granted. Shenandoah impressed upon her the enormity of her mistake. On her drive to Washington she had accepted that enemies from without were beyond her control. In Shenandoah she was faced with the truth within. Not an enemy, just a state of death and renewal that occurred each and every moment. Cells die. Cells are created. It was a cycle so nuanced that humanity lulls itself into believing that it will never end. Life goes on until the created can no longer compensate for the dying or until the created consume the living as her tumor had threatened to do.

She heard the front door open. Nicole called out Beth’s name. Beth was closing the door as Nicole entered the hallway. Nicole kept an uninterrupted step taking Beth into an embrace as Beth turned to her. Beth happily drowned in the sensual union. It had been too long since she had felt Nicole’s strength enveloping her.

Beth laughed gently. “Hi.”

Nicole felt her rising emotions; emotions long held down in the company of others, emotions kept at bay in her solitude. She was not prepared for another separation.

Nicole was frozen in her hold of Beth. For reasons she could not justify, Beth felt a kernel of concern. She sought her own interior stillness. It was then that she felt the steady rise and fall of Nicole’s breath. It was then that she heard Nicole’s silence, an impenetrable absence. Given the reassurance of touch, she doubted Nicole’s silence was a conscious withholding. Beth had been in the midst of this particular silence only twice before. Nicole’s vulnerability was a substance that penetrated Beth, leaving Beth shaken. Beth renewed her hold upon her partner. After an extended silence Beth chose to temper the spell. She whispered in Nicole’s ear. “I’ve missed you.”

Nicole sighed. She gradually relaxed her muscles, countering her overwhelming physical need for Beth. Her voice was throaty. “I’ve missed you, too.”

Separating, Beth raised her hand and traced the line of Nicole’s jaw. “Nicki. How about a late dinner?”

Nicole nodded. There was no smile. Beth’s own yearning for Nicole was stirred. The time for patience had passed. She took Nicole’s lips with her own, demanding all that Nicole had to give. Nicole broke her internal tethers. She swung Beth around against the wall, demanding, in turn, all that Beth had to give. It had been too long for both of them.

Nicole took command of their lovemaking. Their clothes were quickly stripped as she led Beth into the bedroom. The pitch, tone of Nicole shifted dramatically once she found herself lying beside Beth. It traveled from the high to the low. Nicole calmed.

Beth welcomed the familiar weight of Nicole upon her. The fury of their kisses successively diminished. It was Nicole who softened her kisses. They became feather light as they brushed Beth’s lips and rose up, away, before returning anew to make a further claim. Beth attempted to follow their flight, but Nicole used the back of her hand to stroke Beth’s cheek, seducing Beth to repose. They had journeyed to a mutually shared tranquility. Beth could see Nicole’s eyes explore her. Nicole was memorizing her. Nothing was escaping Nicole’s observation. With a sense of relief Beth marked the moment when Nicole offered her a modest smile. Beth reflected the smile back to Nicole tenfold in radiance.

“Elizabeth Ann Kelly, I love you.” Nicole spoke with a resonant voice.

Beth’s heart staggered. She had never heard Nicole call her by her full name. The fusion of Nicole’s gaze with her words left Beth, for a moment, speechless. She struggled for an appropriate response. “I love you, Nicole Isabel Thera.” She took a quick breath in and then released it with a restored calm. “I’ve wanted you home. I’ve wanted us here together with the world left outside.” Beth traced Nicole’s lips with her fingers. “These past few weeks have been so hard. I don’t want the world to take you away from me. I don’t want the world to come between us.”

Nicole understood. With understanding came the closing of a door within her, the door she had fought all that she was to open. What lay behind the door had just been uninvited. What Nicole prepared herself to show Beth was unwelcome. The world had become fearful, touching the quick in a way that could not be denied. Beth wanted none of it in the private realm they shared. Nicole closed the door shut. There would be no confession. Nicole would not be unburdened of her fear. She would have no mercy.

“I’m here and I’m yours. Nothing is going to change that.”

Beth entreated, exposing her doubts. “Make me believe you.”

Nicole was given an invitation; at one time the invitation dominated her desire, and yet, on this day, the invitation meant far less to her. She would accept it. She would make Beth believe her. Not a further word was spoken.

After climaxing, Beth held Nicole tight. Nicole felt Beth’s hands on her shoulder blades demanding Nicole’s presence, an assurance to ease Beth’s pronounced vulnerability in the moment of complete physical release. Nicole held Beth with one arm wrapped around Beth’s back. Her other arm rested above Beth’s head, as Nicole buried herself in the crook of Beth’s neck. As Beth’s breathing subsided to an undisturbed rhythm, Nicole strode to re-tether her own emotions. For Nicole, being with Beth had not been a disguised effort to impress her power and control over Beth. She had not demanded anything from Beth, but only gave Beth what Beth desired. Though both the means and the end may have been the same to Beth, Nicole experienced their lovemaking differently. In place of strength, Nicole felt terribly exposed. As Nicole watched Beth being overtaken by the sensations she caused, Nicole felt the unconditional trust Beth placed in her. She understood how unsafe, in complete surrender, a bedroom could become, not only for Beth, but for herself. Their bedroom had become a perilous place for Nicole, and it frightened her to a new, painful degree. Nicole had not come close to feeling this way since her first sexual encounter. She doubted whether even then the impact had been as great. With her first, Nicole had been so naďve, her current awareness could not have been equal. Beth’s demand for Nicole subsided. Her taut muscles eased. The press of her hands against Nicole lifted. Nicole was not prepared to accept Beth’s reciprocation. Nicole felt the door within her threaten to burst open contrary to all her effort to keep its bolt in place. She needed time. She shifted, migrating her body down to Beth, resting her head against Beth’s lower breast, resting a hand over Beth’s abdomen, lying ever still, seeking comfort.

Beth felt Nicole’s movement. Nicole’s placement was new to Beth. Beth stroked Nicole’s hair. She waited for Nicole to come back to her. There were kisses to be given. Words to be spoken. Nicole remained as she was. Beth was touched again by this newness in her experience of Nicole. She accepted it without understanding it. She draped her arms around Nicole as Nicole fell into sleep.

October 2001

Nicole observed a continual, gradual dulling of Beth’s spirit. There was little Nicole felt she could do but offer Beth a safe haven. Their conversations were limited. Nicole did not discuss her work, inseparable from the September 11th tragedy. Beth remained reticent regarding her chaplaincy. Outside of Nicole’s den the television and radio remained mute. Beth spent much of her time reading in the sunroom. She eschewed the newspapers and news magazines. Nicole worked in the den, privately listened to National Public Radio and read the national and international news. Only in their lovemaking was Beth’s generosity to Nicole unaltered. Nicole took solace in their physical joining. There were moments after their lovemaking when Nicole felt she had drawn Beth closer to the surface, up from her unreachable depths. Those moments were fleeting, as Beth withdrew again to an interior life that excluded Nicole, an interior life that excluded the world.

These new terms of engagement were trying for Nicole. Nicole relied on her other connections in order to maintain her equilibrium. Kate remained a dear confidant. She had Jacob. Jason was becoming a friend. Each touched one aspect of Nicole’s life: Kate, the heart; Jacob, the spirit; and Jason, the mind of the entrepreneur.

October 8, 2001

Beth and Nicole sat at the dining room table eating a late afternoon meal. Beth had the night shift at the hospital. As the days passed Beth felt Nicole’s withdrawal. Nicole’s attempts to reach her had noticeably lessened as she heeded Beth’s unwillingness to engage in most subjects. Beth knew she was destroying one of the core beams that held up their relationship. Their engagement of thoughts and ideas had been regulated to a backroom.

Beth at first felt relief. Everyone at the hospital had an opinion about current events and was not shy to voice it. She soon found herself withdrawing once again from The Round Table discussions. Though Jerry was on far better behavior, her initial enthusiasm deadened. Her only engagement with ideas was her books, books on subjects she chose to engage. The books did not ask her questions she was not prepared to address. If an author did slide a painful question before her, she had the power to ignore the challenge. The author was not in a position to demand recognition. The apartment was her refuge, contingent on Nicole’s cooperation.

God remained distant. Beth felt the void more so in the company of the chaplains. Each day during morning report they rotated the responsibility of leading a short devotion. The selections others chose expressed their faith with a sincerity that she could not, in her heart, equal. She struggled to meet her assignment of presenting her theological statement. What she had written felt dry, spiritless. Her prayers came with difficulty. Her hope of a return of strength of faith slipped away. She felt a mounting loneliness.

Nicole continued to be unselfish toward Beth. Nicole was determined to minimize her travel, working as much as she could through phone, email and fax. She asked little from Beth and Beth was grateful. Beth’s ability to give to Nicole had been reduced to their bed. Beth was desperate to feel and Nicole was the only one who could make her feel anything other than the pain that dominated her life. Nicole had the power to carry Beth beyond all thought to the pure sensual nature of her being.

Beth wanted to give Nicole a morsel to compensate for the dearth of engagement between them. “I spoke yesterday to the brother of a man whose surgery didn’t go well. The brother had to decide whether to terminate life support.”

Nicole looked up from her plate. “The patient didn’t leave written instructions?”

“No. The brother told me that the patient was frightened and didn’t want to face the possibility.”

“What did you say to the brother?”

“I asked him if he had spoken to his brother about what he would have wanted. He said he knew his brother wouldn’t want to be left in a vegetative state to be cared for in a nursing home for the rest of his life… He asked me to tell him what to do. He said he was a good Christian. He didn’t want to be a murderer.”

“How did you respond?”

“I told him I couldn’t tell him what to do. That he should think of what his brother would want. I said because his brother didn’t leave instructions the decision was no longer just about what his brother wanted, it was also about what he could live with.”

Nicole nodded. She returned her attention to her food, playing with it with her fork. Beth watched Nicole. She could see Nicole was holding back. “Nicki?”

“Yes.”

“What are you thinking?”

Nicole was sure. “If the patient wants to die he should die. It doesn’t matter what the brother believes.”

Beth demurred. “You can’t discount the survivors.”

“I’m not. My heart goes out to the brother, but that doesn’t change the fact that the patient should be removed from life support. Everyone has the right to choose the quality of their death.”

“How about the quality of their life?”

“I wish we could choose the quality of our lives carte blanche. We choose how we will live given what life places at our feet. Whether we are intelligent or challenged, physically complete or disabled. If my operation had gone badly I wouldn’t want someone else’s values to interfere with my wishes.”

“You would have chosen death?”

Nicole confirmed. “If I couldn’t live a meaningful life, yes.”

“What if you are depressed? Doesn’t society have a responsibility to value your life, to place more meaning in your life than you are capable of?”

Nicole leaned forward in her chair. “It amazes me that our society is finally starting to recognized the cruelty of keeping someone alive when all they have to experience is physical pain, but that the same generosity isn’t afforded those who are in horrendous emotional pain. It’s arrogance to believe that we are any more adept in curing mental anguish.”

Beth countered. “The mentally ill do not have the capacity to choose.”

“Who determines mental illness? What is illness to us may be ecstasy to another. Think of Pentecost. Who are we to judge?”

“Oh no you don’t. Don’t you throw a religious experience into the same category as mental illness.”

“Only to the extent that it’s not understood. We grant tolerance to the mystic. Who is to say that the homeless man praising Jesus isn’t a modern day prophet? If God tells him to lie still and take the angel Gabriel’s hand, who is to say the angel isn’t right there with him calling him to heaven? We draw the line based on what feels comfortable. Why? Because there is no fact involved outside of the reality of the person feeling what they feel. This isn’t cancer. You can’t point to an x-ray that shows a malignancy. But doctors pretend that it is the same.”

“So, if the day comes and you choose to die, that’s it. I have no say in it?”

Nicole refused to waver. “No you don’t. On the other hand, when it comes to your life, you have the right to make the choice that is true to you.”

“So you would let me go if I asked you to?”

Nicole paused. She would not concede the loss. True, she felt Beth slipping away from her, but she still had hope that with time Beth would return to her. The prospect of losing Beth with no hope of return was unbearable. And yet, Nicole knew from experience that the choice was not hers. “Yes.”

“Every life has value.” Beth’s could not accept Nicole’s leniency.

“And every life will come to an end. Medicine and religion haven’t conquered death.”

“It’s not right to take your own life.”

“We’re not talking about suicide. Not that it would matter if we were.”

“No one should play God.”

“God?” Nicole questioned Beth’s choice of authority.

“Yes. God!” Beth did not withhold her anger. “God is in this conversation.”

Nicole kept a steady countenance. “I’m glad I can count on Kate to act on my behalf.”

Beth did not register her exclusion in Nicole’s previous statement. Her heart had shifted away from the speculative. “I’m glad my mother didn’t chose death when she got sick.”

“Well, my mother did and I didn’t judge her for it.”

Beth was startled by Nicole’s revelation. Nicole’s emotions were near the surface, threatening to break free. In addition to Nicole’s undeniable anger, Beth could see tears glistening in her eyes.

Nicole stood up. “I need some fresh air.” She went to the front closet, grabbed her coat, and made an abrupt exit.

Beth watched helplessly as Nicole closed the door behind her.

October 9, 2001

Beth’s pager sounded. She turned toward the nightstand and reached for the light switch. As she took the pager in hand she could hear the code being called over the public address system. She wrote the ICU room number on the slip of paper located on the nightstand just for this purpose. She then called the switchboard obtaining the patient’s name, confirming the patient’s room number and confirming that she was on her way. The time was near midnight.

She got out of bed and began to dress. The patient, Agnes Hanson, was familiar. The 72-year-old mother of five had double bypass heart surgery two days before. She had been in good spirits, in part because of a steady stream of family visitors.

Beth entered the ICU. Determining the code location was not an issue. Hospital personnel surrounded the patient’s bedside, overflowing to the common area. Beth walked to the code site, making sure Debra, the attending nurse saw her. Debra approached her. “Beth, the family has been called. Could you meet them at Emergency?”

“What happened?”

“We’re not sure. They were working on her respiratory tube when she started bleeding. It doesn’t look good.”

Beth’s eyes traveled back toward Agnes. Her hospital robe had been stripped down to the waist. A good ten staff personnel from various disciplines were present to assist Dr. Jamison as needed. Beth thought it was a blessing that Agnes was not aware of her surroundings. She would have been mortified by her public exposure.

Beth walked down the corridor toward Emergency. As a security measure it was the only public entrance open throughout the night. She waited by the admittance counter trying to remember the names of Agnes’ family members. Her ICU notebook, where she wrote brief patient and family profiles was stored in her locker. The double door Emergency entrance opened. Agnes’ daughter Phyllis entered, followed by a second daughter, Clare and Clare’s husband, whose name Beth could not recall. Phyllis was pale with worry. She walked directly to Beth and simply spoke Beth’s name in recognition. Once Phyllis was parallel to her, Beth turned and began walking toward ICU. Nothing was said for the first few steps.

“I’m glad you’re here. How is she?”

Beth knew it was not for her to share any patient information. Even if a patient had already died, Beth would still be sworn to silence. The information could only come from medical personnel. The reasons were twofold. First, Beth simply did not have the medical background and understanding to meet the demands of a family member for complete and accurate information. Second, Beth needed to maintain her role as a giver of pastoral care. At times both patients and family members may become frustrated or angry with the medical profession for failing to cure or provide care to the degree they expect. Being removed from the hospital medical professionals in the minds of the patients and family members allowed Beth to continue to care for them when others may be placed arm’s length away. Beth’s response was honest yet noncommittal. “I’m not sure. They are doing everything they can for her.”

Upon reaching ICU, Beth guided Agnes’ family to the waiting area. She assured them she would return after informing the attending nurse that they had arrived. At the site of the code Beth watched as the medical staff’s efforts to revive Agnes had become more and more desperate. A resident was providing external heart compressions. Agnes’ body quivered with each press. Her modesty had been further compromised. Beth could see that Agnes was not wearing any lower under clothing. The defibrillator was charged and ready. Agnes was jolted. Beth would have testified that had the setting not been a hospital what was being done to the matriarch was nothing less than torture. It was a brutal assault upon the human body. Dr. Jamison noted Beth’s return. He went to her. Debra joined them. Without taking time for any formalities, Jamison asked. “We have been working on her for 40 minutes. Is this what the family wants?”

Beth could tell that Jamison wanted to stop, but felt compelled to continue until he received family consent. “I’ll ask.”

Both Beth and Jamison looked to Debra. Debra responded. “I’ll come and explain the situation.”

As Debra and Beth walked back to the waiting area, Debra described the unexpected events that preceded the code. Nothing should have gone wrong. Agnes’ hemorrhaging did not make sense to her or the other staff members. Beth listened without comment.

Upon entering the waiting area, Phyllis stood up. Debra, who was familiar with the family, began to explain. Debra spoke in a restrained, moderate tone, not wanting for compassion. “The respiratory therapist was checking your mother’s tube when she started to bleed. We had trouble controlling the bleeding. Your mother then went into cardiac arrest. The doctors are doing everything they can to revive her. The have been with your mother for over 40 minutes. We need to know if you want the doctors to continue their effort.”

Beth wondered what the impact of those words would have been had Phyllis and Clare seen what she had seen.

Phyllis paced. “We’re waiting for our brother Jack and our sister Janey and I have to call my brother Stan.”

Clare cried, leaning on her husband’s arm. It was apparent that Phyllis was in charge and would not be contradicted. It was also obvious to Beth that Phyllis was in a private hell of helplessness.

Beth offered. “I’ll get an outside line for you to make the phone call.” She went to the wall telephone and pressed the operator. “Hello, this is Chaplain Beth Kelly. I need an outside line for a long distance phone call.” She then handed the telephone receiver to Phyllis. Just as Phyllis took the receiver, Janey and her husband or boyfriend, Beth was not sure which, were ushered in by a clerk. Janey, the youngest sibling by at least ten years, spoke first. “How’s Mom?”

Clare looked up. “The nurse was just telling us.”

Janey looked to Debra. Debra began to repeat her statement without changing a word. At the same time Beth could hear Phyllis. “Stan, it’s Phyllis. It’s Mom, she’s not doing good…..I don’t know. Beth noticed that Phyllis was struggling to hear her brother on the phone.

Debra’s voice had risen in the rising chaos. Beth put her hand on Debra’s arm. Debra stopped her account. Beth nodded to Phyllis. Debra looked over and understood. She continued speaking in a softer volume.

After hearing the account, Janey sat down on an empty couch joined by her silent companion.

The only one speaking, Phyllis could now be heard. “There is a nurse here. She can talk to you.” Phyllis turned to Debra and offered the telephone receiver. “Could you tell my brother Stan what happened?”

Uneasily, Debra took the receiver and began to explain the situation. Beth listened with one ear as Debra repeated the account for the third time, almost verbatim. Beth could feel the tension in the room rise. It was hard to gauge the dynamics among the personalities present. After explaining what she could, Debra handed the telephone back to Phyllis. With only a few more words, Phyllis completed the conversation and hung up the phone.

Debra struggled not to coerce but she needed a decision. “What should I tell the doctors?”

Phyllis was determined. “We have to wait for Jack.”

An anxious Debra looked over to Beth. “I’ll go see how things are going.”

Phyllis called out. “Please tell Mom we’re here and we love her.”

Debra did not know what to say so she simply nodded. Beth waited for Debra to depart. She then scanned the room trying to access each person present. She confirmed that the daughters needed to be her focus. Her greatest concern was for Phyllis who had no one to comfort her. Phyllis finally sat down wringing her hands before her. Beth chose to sit beside her. Phyllis spoke more to herself than to Beth. “Mom was doing so well. Why did this happen?”

Beth had no answer. She never did in times like these. She placed her hand on Phyllis’ arm allowing human contact to console where nothing else could. Beth then heard her name spoken.

Clare’s tears had subsided. “Could you say a prayer?”

“Of course.” Beth waited until the motion in the room stilled. She bowed her head, a sign to all. Beth spoke with a gentle voice, maintaining a moderate pace, allow those present an opportunity to hear and recognized the meaning behind the words as they traveled through their own internal turmoil. “Let us pray. Dear Lord, hear our prayer for your daughter Agnes and those who love her. Please give Agnes’ caretakers the wisdom and skill to help her. Please give Agnes peace as she faces this challenge. With your inestimable mercy please touch the hearts of those who wait, guiding them through this difficult time. We offer you our praise as we say the Lord’s Prayer.” Beth looked up and made brief eye contact with Phyllis, Clare and Janey. “Our Father, who art in heaven…” Agnes’ family members joined Beth in reciting the prayer. Beth knew that to offer the ability to pray was powerful and that the one prayer she could count on most people knowing was the Lord’s Prayer. “Amen.” Beth permitted silence to take dominion over the room. The tension seemed to ease.

Clare broke the stillness. “Thank you.”

Beth offered a muted smile. They waited in quiet. The door opened. Jack entered, triggering a renewal of motion and outwardly expressed emotion. Clare and Janey went and embraced him. Phyllis remained seated. Debra returned. Phyllis stood up. “Debra, this is Jack.”

Jack, a tall, lanky man wore a baseball hat and a two-day old beard. By appearance he seemed the oldest of Agnes’ children. He turned to the nurse. “What happened?”

Again, Debra narrated the events of the preceding hour. This time she emphasized that it had been an hour since they had begun their effort to revive Agnes. Again, she asked the family what they wanted to do. Phyllis looked over to Jack. Jack nodded. He then spoke to Debra. “You can stop.”

Debra did not wait for the decision to be reversed. “I’ll let the doctor know. I’ll be right back.” Debra left. Beth said nothing. Allowing the decision to enter the hearts and minds of each in the room.

Janey wondered. “Now what?”

Beth explained. “If you wish to see your mother…”

Janey interrupted. “We do.”

Beth continued. “The nurses will remove all the equipment from your mother’s bedside. The respiratory tube will remain. That is a standard procedure. The nurse will talk to you about making arrangements with a funeral home. You can then visit your mother. You can be with her for as long as you like.”

Knowing what to expect would help the family cope with the next hour. Beth did not mention the issue of donor transplant. Given Agnes’ age and medical condition there was a limit to what could be harvested. And again, Beth knew that it was for the medical staff to broach the subject. Beth waited a few minutes before offering to say a prayer service at Agnes’ bedside. Phyllis accepted the offer for the family.

Debra entered with a clipboard in her hand. She went and sat beside Phyllis who had been listed as Agnes’ Power of Attorney. She walked through the next steps that needed to be taken. Phyllis agreed to call the Nurse’s Station with the name of a funeral home once arrangements were made. Debra mentioned that organ donation was usually discussed but in Agnes’ case that would not be an option. After Debra and Phyllis completed their discussion, Debra offered to take them to Agnes. Beth followed last.

Upon reaching Agnes’ bedside Beth noted the dramatic change. All the equipment was removed. Agnes was clothed in a fresh hospital gown. Her hair had been combed. Her body was laid with her arms to the side. The staff had done everything they could to restore Agnes’ dignity. Beth was grateful that the images seared in her mind would not be shared with those who loved Agnes. Watching loved ones with the recently deceased, Beth noted certain constants; the hesitant approach; the taking of a hand, petting it shyly; the kiss upon the forehead, cheek or lips, the whispered words ‘I love you.’ Beth watched as Phyllis and Clare stood on each side of Agnes. Jack positioned himself at the foot of the bed. Janey was at the side near Clare. They spoke to Agnes. They spoke to each other. ‘She’s at peace now.’ ‘No more troubles, Mom.’ The sentiments echoed softly from one child to the other. The spouses and partners stood beside those they had come with. They knew their role was to provide support and in silence, fulfilled it well. Phyllis looked over to Beth. “We’re ready.”

Beth took a step forward and opened her small prayer book. She followed the liturgy for the Commendation of the Deceased. “Let’s us join together and pray.” Beth waited for a heartbeat as a few hands reached out for one another. “Whether we live or die, we are the Lord’s. The Lord is my light and my salvation. I lift up my eyes toward the mountain; whence shall help come to me? My help is from the Lord, who made heaven and earth….We have come to know and to believe in the love God has for us. God is love, and he who abides in love abides in God, and God in him and her. Loving and merciful God, we entrust our sister, Agnes to your mercy. You loved her greatly in this life: now that she is freed from all its cares, give her happiness and peace for ever. The old order has passed away: welcome her now into paradise where there will be no more sorrow, no more weeping or pain, but only peace and joy with Jesus, your Son, and the Holy Spirit for ever and ever. Amen.” Beth looked up. The family members gave her their complete attention. “And I offer this prayer for the family and friends of Agnes. God of all consolation, in your unending love and mercy for us you turn the darkness of death into the dawn of new life. Show compassion to your people in their sorrow. Be their refuge and their strength to lift them up from the darkness of this grief to the peace and light of your presence. Listen to their prayers, look with love on your people who mourn and pray for Agnes. Lord Jesus, holy and compassionate, do not let Agnes be parted from you, but by your glorious power give her light, joy, and peace in heaven where you live for ever and ever. Amen.” Beth looked up again. The mood around Agnes’ bedside had calmed further. “I recite the 23rd Psalm to you, our Lord…

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want;

he makes me lie down in green pastures.

He leads me beside the still waters;

he restores my soul.

He leads me in paths of righteousness

for his name’s sake.

Even though I walk through the

valley of the shadow of death,

I fear no evil;

for thou art with me,

thy rod and thy staff,

they comfort me.

Thou preparest a table before me

in the presence of my enemies;

thou anointest my head with oil,

my cup overflows.

Surely goodness and mercy shall

follow me

all the days of life;

and I shall dwell in the house of

the Lord

for ever.

Those present joined Beth in closing the prayer. “Amen.” Beth scanned the participants. There was still an incompleteness to the moment. “Please join me in the Lord’s Prayer. Our Father, who art in heaven…” The group repeated the Lord’s Prayer. At its end Beth closed her prayer book and took a step back. She remained a silent witness. It was then that she saw that Debra had chosen to remain nearby. It was Phyllis’ sigh that announced that it was time for them to leave. They slowly made their way toward the ICU exit. Beth led alongside of Phyllis. Upon reaching the elevator she pressed the down button and waited. The elevator door opened and the family entered. Clare and Janey each thanked Beth as they moved inside. Phyllis was last. She extended her hand to Beth. “Thank you for everything.”

Beth felt Phyllis’ firm yet gentle hand in her own. “You’re welcome.”

Phyllis entered standing front and center of all the others. Her eyes held Beth’s as the door closed. Beth stared at the two sealed metal doors. She was not yet done. She returned to ICU and Agnes’ bedside. She asked Debra for Agnes’ chart. Beth quickly made an entry in the Notes section documenting her pastoral visit. She closed the chart and offered it back to Debra. “Is there anything else I can do?”

Beth saw the glisten of tears in Debra’s eyes. “Thank you for being here.”

“I’m glad I could help. Good night.”

Beth walked back through the ICU double doors to the elevator. This time she pressed the ‘up’ button to return to the Chaplain’s night room. Beth was exhausted. She leaned her head against the wall. The thought came to her. “Who ministers to the minister?” She struggled to keep her emotions in check, but it was hard. She felt her throat constrict. She returned to her room and quickly stripped her clothes off. She pulled the crisp sheet and blanket over her as her body entered the fetal position. She was overwhelmed by a sense of complete emptiness. As she ministered to others, beseeching God to touch them and comfort them, she felt nothing but her relentless sorrow. Within her she traveled a bleak wasteland. Prayer had failed her. Without the presence of God, her aloneness became excruciating. And so she cried.

October 10, 2001-AM

The fire burned. Log upon log flamed in yellows, blues and occasions of white. At the fire’s bed lay the red carbon coal that now in the morning hours had become a gray layer of ash. Nicole allowed her mind to enter the flame. Mesmerized, thought ceased, intellect was in respite and she knew deep within her, that she was witness to both legacy and destiny. One day her life would end and by her wish she would be cremated, her matter to be transformed by fire to remnants of bone and ash. She did not want imprisonment in an urn. She wanted to be taken up by the wind and scattered to all corners of the earth.

She came from the molten fires of an evolving earth, and she would return to it. It was right, it was just to return to her origins. So different was she from Beth. She did not know how to speak to Beth of such things. Beth clung to union, to continuance, to a life beyond life. Beth, Nicole suspected, believed that by sheer sincerity and force of will she could bring Nicole’s soul to her, keep her safe, intimately close. Beth was prepared to argue before her God to forgive Nicole’s failure to embrace the ineffable truth of the divine creator, to argue as solicitor for a dispensation for Nicole, to be by grace allowed a place in heaven. Nicole found that frame of Christianity romantic, contrary to her own classical temperament.

She recalled the words attributed to early 19th century dramatist Georg Büchnor arguing that life is not a means but an end, ‘for development is the end of life, life itself is development, therefore life itself is an end.’ Here lay a critical difference between her beliefs and Beth’s faith. To Nicole life was the end. To Beth it was the means.

The fire continued to burn and the ash to form and gather. Nicole’s heart ached for Beth. In the moment she doubted she could reach Beth. The chasm between them was growing ever wider. For Nicole to speak her truth would be to cast doubt upon Beth and Nicole did not want to cause Beth any deeper pain. Love was not enough. Nicole had no capacity to comfort Beth without tainting her own integrity. To attempt, by offering a nonjudgmental ear, was destined to failure, for Beth knew Nicole well enough to understand skepticism resided behind the silence — respectful but unyielding skepticism.

Beth would not come to Nicole and Nicole could not go to Beth for comfort. Nicole struggled to find grace in their truth. Her gaze continued to linger upon the flames. How could this particular fire warm Beth when Beth did not recognize its existence?

Nicole heard a key in the front door lock. She quickly looked out the sunroom windows. It was daylight. She had lost track of time. Beth entered the apartment. Nicole gently called out. “Hi.”

Beth looked over to the living room. She was surprised to see Nicole sitting on the floor, leaning against one of their two tall back chairs in front of the fireplace. “Hi.” Beth put her coat away. “You’re up early.”

“I haven’t been to bed yet.”

“I didn’t realize you were under deadline.”

“I’m not.”

Beth approached and sat in the chair across from Nicole. “I wish you hadn’t left.”

Nicole returned her gaze to the fire. Beth followed. After a few moments she urged. “Please don’t shut me out.”

Nicole tried to surmount her fatigue and assure. “I’m not.”

Beth had not the stamina to continue. “This was a mistake.”

Nicole was uncertain. “What?”

“Living together so soon.”

Nicole shook her head resolutely. “No.”

Beth persisted in her train of thought. It promised relief. Relief she could not discount. Relief she realized she would welcome. “I can get a place of my own through the hospital’s housing services.”

Nicole spoke more strongly. “No.”

The two sat in silence.

Nicole tried to span the chasm. “Beth. I’m sorry about yesterday. There were far better ways to tell you about my mother.”

Beth resigned herself. There was so much, too much, separating them. She shifted to her own distress. “I can’t talk to you.”

“Why not?” Nicole did not understand. She could not reason their disjunction.

“Because you don’t believe…” Beth stumbled on her thoughts. She was left to wonder what she believed.

“We could before.” Nicole quietly protested.

“Things have changed. I’ve changed. Every time I look at you I’m impressed by the fact that you believe that the most important thing in my life is a fallacy.”

Nicole defended herself. “I’ve never…”

“No, you haven’t. I’m grateful that you’ve never called me a blithering idiot.”

“Beth. Where is this coming from?”

“Nicki. I’m tired. Can we talk about this later?” Beth stood up.

Nicole reached out to Beth, taking her hand.

Beth exploded. “Don’t touch me.” Her violence fed by her despair, a despair that had threatened to break through the surface for more days than she could count, had achieved its deliverance. Her passion left Beth shaken. She fell to a stunned silence.

Nicole recoiled. The two women looked at each other. Nicole felt Beth’s rejection at her very core. She was thrown in memory to a past, to a life that promised no love. The brief reprieve with Beth might well be all that she would be allowed by the fates. She felt she had no recourse. “I can arrange to give you some space.”

Beth spoke with a fearful hesitancy. “What do you mean?”

“I have a number of clients on hold.”

Beth tried to find some semblance of order in a world that had gone out of control. “How long would you be gone?”

“As long as you need.”

“Will you come home on the weekends?”

“If you want me to. Think about it and let me know.”

“What about your work on the Fields?”

“The interior design is just about done. Jason and I can work through fax and email. The Musketeers can take up the slack.”

All the disparate demands in Beth’s life had gradually coalesced to form an insurmountable challenge. Even though she was the first to suggest a separation, Beth was not prepared to openly accept Nicole’s offer. The reality of it suddenly felt intolerable. “Do what you think is best.” She withdrew to the bedroom.

Nicole watched Beth disappear from her sight. Nicole felt tried and convicted of an unnamed crime - her sentence: abandonment.

October 10, 2001-PM

While Beth slept, Nicole spent the morning hours connecting with her clients and arranging her itinerary. She would fly out Friday morning. She could have delayed her flight to Sunday but saw no reason to remain in the apartment any longer than necessary. She slept on the den couch during most of the afternoon and then, without a word to Beth, left to work at Chamberlain’s. From the sunroom Beth watched Nicole depart. Nicole came home past midnight. She did not hesitate to return to the den.

Beth heard Nicole enter the apartment. Having left the bedroom door open, she listened intently to Nicole’s movement. She heard the den door close. It was then that she knew Nicole would not join her. Beth understood it was she who had banished Nicole. Still, she had hoped Nicole would have attempted a reunion.

Beth drifted into a fitful sleep. She awoke to the sound of her alarm and quietly readied for the hospital. Before leaving she carefully opened the den door. Nicole slept soundly on the couch. Beth chose not to disturb her. It was Beth’s hope that by evening they would each be in a better place to find their way back to one another.

A note from Nicole awaited Beth at the evening hour.

Beth—

I’ll be at Chamberlain’s until late. I’m leaving in the morning.

My itinerary is attached.

Be well,

Nicki

October 23, 2001-Noon

“Forgiveness.” Jamie dropped her tray down on the table. “I want to talk about forgiveness.”

Jamie had been in good spirits at Morning Report. Beth surmised that Jamie’s upset must have been caused during the course of her morning pastoral visits. If she chose, Jamie would be able to confidentially share the experience with her small group. It was evident she did not want to wait for relief. After a shared silence Jerry cautiously took the lead. “Divine forgiveness or human forgiveness?”

“Let’s keep scripture out of it.”

Nathaniel was surprised by Jamie’s request. “What do you mean?”

“For once let’s just talk without one reference to scripture or a catechism.”

Jerry tried to enforce the unspoken ground rules. “Jamie, this is a forum for us to express our religious beliefs.”

“Fine. Forget it.”

Not to fail to minister to Jamie’s obvious need, Paul offered a starting point. “The Forgiveness Institute acknowledged a variety of sources in reaching its model of forgiveness. They included religious tradition, philosophy, and psychology.”

Peter edged closer to the dangerous waters. “I can’t conceive living a human life without forgiveness. Isn’t the only alternative hate? And that ‘ll destroy us.”

“As a people we are obviously not doing a good job of forgiving one another,” Cindy observed.

“Damn right.” Jamie spoke to her food.

Cindy wanted to reach across the table and offer Jamie her hand. “I think forgiveness is misunderstood and that’s why it’s so hard. People think it means unconditional love.”

“But it is unconditional.” Nathaniel asserted. “I don’t mean you don’t hold the person accountable for their actions, you do. But, you can’t see forgiveness as something you do for yourself even though in the long run it will only help you.”

Peter’s confidence in contributing grew. “You have to be able to forgive without expecting a ‘thank you’ from the one you’ve forgiven.”

Nathaniel built on Peter’s thought. “You have to be able to forgive even if you’ll never see the person who hurt you again. How many people have had to deal with unresolved issues with someone who died? The anger can consume them. The anger comes not only from the fact that they were hurt but because the confrontation they always dreamed of never happened.”

“That’s common in childhood abuse cases. Once the child grows to adulthood there’s no chance to go back and say ‘look what you’ve done to me,” Cindy added.

Christine went further. “But there is more to it with childhood abuse. There is the need to confirm that the abuse really happened. That it isn’t just a nightmare. That they’re not crazy.”

“That kind of confrontation probably wouldn’t result in forgiveness,” Jerry decided.

“How do you know?” Christine challenged.

Peter defended Jerry’s position. “Because it is a confrontation and nothing good can come from it.”

Paul felt differently. “Peter, I think you misunderstand what is meant by confrontation. We are not talking about accusations or attacks. You have to confront the wrong. You have to define it. You have to attempt to understand its nature before you can address it.”

“Paul, the hurt isn’t an impersonal ‘it’. The hurt can’t be separated from the human being that caused it. Sometimes there is no way you can understand the why of the hurt. All you can do is accept that it exists for what it is.”

“I agree. And I don’t necessarily mean understanding why the person hurt you, that is assuming there was a conscious motivation. I mean confronting what the hurt means to you.”

“There is the risk of rationalizing to the point of making forgiveness pointless.” Peter warned.

“Why don’t we take a real life example?” Beth did not believe the abstract nature of the conversation was helping Jamie. She wanted to put flesh and blood into the forum. The chaplains gave their silent assent. “I’ll use myself as an example. My father has ended our relationship. It wasn’t much of a relationship from the start, but I still thought of myself as his daughter. When I told him I was leaving the priesthood he demanded to know the reason. When I told him I had fallen in love with Nicki, he said I wasn’t his daughter. I realized that my father was never really a father to me. At least the kind of father I believe we all deserve. It hurt to face that fact. I had to ask myself if something was wrong with me that I didn’t merit his love. I had to deal with the possibility that not having a real father was a punishment. Then I looked at a group of little children playing in the park and I knew there was nothing a child could do to deserve not to be loved. I came to the point of believing that I did deserve love. His love. The love of my sister, Marie. Nicki’s love. Like Paul said, I had to confront my father and the harm he did so I could understand the hurt I felt. I had to understand why the hurt went so deep. Then I needed to look at my father as less than a monster, because all I could feel at the time was that only a monster could reject his daughter the way he rejected me. But the truth is when I think of him; all I see is a lonely, bitter old man who loved his wife and let his love die with her. He never forgave God.” Beth paused and gave Jamie a small smile. “Sorry, but I can’t tell this story without mentioning God. When my mother died my father couldn’t find any consolation. Instead of rejecting God as some people do, he placed God into the center of his life. To my father God is to be feared. And it’s not the fear, the awe of Yahweh. I mean the fear that cuts close to hate. It’s the kind of fear that makes you look constantly over your shoulder. That’s who my father is and I can’t change him. So, I forgave him instead and I moved on and left him to the life he’s chosen for himself. I needed to forgive him so I could live my life the way I believe God intends me to. So I could let Nicki love me. And, so I could love Nicki the way she deserves to be loved.”

“Why don’t you blame God for the death of your mother and your father’s rejection? Why do you still love God after everything you’ve gone through?” Jamie struggled to keep her voice measured.

Beth was caught. She did not want to lie to Jamie. “I want to believe in the primacy of love. I need to believe in God’s grace.”

Paul broke the silence that enveloped the table. “Amen.”

Christine echoed. “Let it be.”

October 25, 2001-PM

Beth listened to Nicole’s voice message:

Beth—

It’s Nicki. I’m flying in tomorrow afternoon. I hope…I hope life is

better. I’ll see you soon.

They had exchanged only a few impersonal emails during the previous two weeks. During that time Nicole had not given Beth an indication of when she planned to return to Chicago. Her return was unexpected.

October 26, 2001-Evening

Beth entered the apartment.

Nicole waited on the living room couch. She stood up. “Hi.” Nicole realized she was frightened.

Beth removed her coat and draped it over the banister. “How was your flight?”

“Good.” Nicole slowly stepped forward.

“How long are you staying?” The question sounded severe, which was not Beth’s intention.

Nicole paused. She narrowed her brow. “Sunday. I was hoping we could spend some time together.”

“You didn’t give me much notice. I already have plans made for the weekend.”

Nicole had prepared herself for the worse possible reception. She was determined to accept whatever Beth was willing to give her. Her response was genuine. “I understand.”

Beth took in the sight of Nicole standing in the living room with her arms behind her, her feet well parted in an open stance. “I’m going to get out of these clothes. I’m having dinner with Cindy.”

Nicole watched as Beth disappeared from her sight. She remained in heart, as she stood, uncertain. For two weeks she waited for some hint from Beth that she would be welcomed. When none came, she set aside whatever pride may have held her back and decided to come home. The only solace she could take was that Beth did not ask her to leave. She removed herself to the den. She had delayed unpacking. Somewhere deep within her, Nicole had held the unrealistic hope that Beth would invite her back into their bedroom.

Cindy and Beth sat at a side booth. Though they worked closely together it was difficult in their hectic schedules to actually relax and talk to one another. They found that they truly enjoyed each other’s company. Occasional shared dinners strengthened their growing friendship.

Cindy had an unspoken concern for Beth. She found Beth to be bright, compassionate and skilled. In the intensive care units patients, their families and friends, and staff all found Beth warm and effective. While the bonds between the other chaplains had become more resilient, Beth seemed to keep herself at an arm’s length. Cindy was not sure why Beth had given her greater access, but she valued the opportunity to learn more about how Beth experienced the world and her faith. Cindy was certain that the only other person at the hospital that might have a sense of what Beth was feeling was Pam, and Pam, as Beth’s CPE Supervisor, held all that she knew in confidence.

“Have you heard from Nicole?”

Beth had been sparing in sharing the difficulties she and Nicole were experiencing. “She flew in today.”

Cindy was surprised. “Then why are you here with me?”

Beth remained silent.

“You should have canceled. I would have understood.”

“She gave me no notice.” Beth was compelled to defend her actions although she did not stand accused. “We are not in a relationship of one. Nicki can’t come and go as she pleases without accepting the consequences.”

“That isn’t how you’ve described her in the past.”

“We don’t talk anymore. I can’t talk to her about what’s important to me without getting into a disagreement.”

Cindy was uncertain. “Your faith? Your work?”

“Yes.” Beth looked away.

After allowing Beth a moment of uninterrupted thought, Cindy called Beth back to their conversation. “Did you talk when you first met?”

Beth returned her gaze to Cindy. “Yes. All the time.”

“What did you talk about?

“Everything.”

“Did you agree?”

Beth recalled the constant debates. “No.”

“Then I don’t understand. What’s changed?”

Beth hesitated. “I’m not a priest anymore.”

The distance between them was suddenly compressed. Cindy could see Beth far more clearly. “Beth, you don’t blame Nicole for the loss of your priesthood, do you?”

Beth did not answer.

Cindy feared the truth was too painful for Beth. “Are you sure Nicole is the one holding back?”

Beth walked home alone. Her thoughts lingered on the dinner conversation. Cindy had not shied from asking difficult questions. Beth knew Cindy had indeed become a friend; only a friend would care enough to take the risk to probe, to challenge and, if necessary, to offend.

It was a clear and warm night for late October. The street traffic was steady. Singles, couples, groups of friends made their way throughout the Hyde Park neighborhood. Beth could hear their voices, their laughter; she watched them as they walked side by side, some holding hands. She missed Nicole. She knew Nicole waited for her.

Beth found Nicole sitting in front of the fireplace. A healthy fire burned.

Nicole looked up. “Hi. Have a good time?”

“Yes.”

“You and Cindy seem to be building a nice friendship.”

Beth quipped. “She has an ulterior motive. She’s trying to convince me to become a UU.”

“As a lay person or a minister?”

Beth was surprised by the ease with which Nicole broached the subject. More so the notion that Beth would return to a formal church ministry. “She’s taking it slow. Just as a church member.”

“Any possibility?”

“The UCC has a better chance with me.”

“I could see how hard it would be to go from high church to very low church. Have you talked to Pam?”

“A little.” Beth turned away as she hung her coat in the closet.

Nicole returned her gaze to the fire.

Beth approached. She leaned against tall back chair opposite Nicole. “What do you see in the fire?”

“Eternity.”

Beth felt a tug in her heart for Nicole.

“Do you know the meaning of temenos?” Nicole’s tender voice called Beth closer to her.

“It’s Greek, isn’t it? A sanctuary…a sacred place where people go to come in union with the divine.”

“It has classical origins. It was a constructed space. I was thinking whether I have a temenos. In the loft, if I was alone, and if it was quiet…I stopped looking outside myself. I’d look in and touch the stillness. It’s the closest feeling of peace I know. And for me that’s divine.”

Beth was attentive.

“Now it’s the apartment.” Nicole looked over to Beth. “Sometimes it’s here in front of the fire. Most of the time it’s the den. I never thanked you for giving me the den.”

“I knew you needed a space of your own.”

Nicole returned her gaze to the fire.

Beth wanted to reach out and bridge the expanse that separated them. “Do you have plans for tomorrow?”

“I called Jason. He has plenty of work for me to do. I’ll spend the day with him. Kate and I are getting together for a late dinner.” Nicole offered an apology. “I shouldn’t have assumed that you would be free.”

“Sunday?”

“All taken care of.” Nicole offered Beth her complete attention. “Beth, really, I’m fine. I understand your life shouldn’t revolve around my whims.”

Beth did not know how to rescind her chastisement of Nicole without losing face, without compromising a point she felt was important to make. Nicole seemed to have recovered well. Beth, in turn, was struggling with the fact that Nicole was in Chicago for the weekend and they would not be sharing any significant time together. Harder still was suppressing Nicole’s impetuousness. Nicole was structured, living a life of self-control. The moments she would break free simply enraptured Beth. Beth regretted any reining in of Nicole’s rare spontaneity.

Beth’s fatigue subdued her. “I’ve had a long day. I’m going to bed.”

“Good night, Beth.” Beth’s weariness had not escaped Nicole’s notice.

Beth felt Nicole’s sincere warmth. She wanted to invite Nicole to join her. She knew that it was in her power to undo what had been done. But before she did, there were truths she needed to consider with greater honesty. “Good night.” She stepped to the bedroom with the wizened hope that Nicole would come to their bed of her own accord.

October 28, 2001-AM

Beth heard the sound of Nicole in the kitchen. The nightstand clock read 6:20 a.m. The previous day she had seen Nicole for only a brief shared cup of coffee in the morning. On this day she did not want a repetition of such a limited encounter.

“Nicki?” Beth stood at the kitchen threshold.

Nicole was dressed in jeans and a sweater. She paused from her task of pouring a pot of coffee into a large thermos. “Beth. I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t. Nicki, it’s early.”

“I’ll be on my way in a little while. I wanted to make sure I had plenty of time before my flight.”

“When do you leave?”

“Eight tonight.”

In Nicole’s background, through the kitchen window, Beth’s vision took in the sight of the trees, their foliage changing in response to the crisp October air, the leaves falling freely. Her eyes traveled back to the thermos. She deduced Nicole’s destination. “You’re going to the Hill.”

Nicole placed the empty coffee decanter down and began to cap the thermos. “Yes.”

“Why…” Beth stopped herself from asking the question. She knew why Nicole had not invited her. The answer was obvious. Beth had done everything she could to dissuade Nicole of seeking her out. “Would you like some company?”

Nicole was sincerely surprised by the offer. “I thought you had plans?”

Beth repeated her offer. Her voice was gentle. “Nicki. Would you like me to come with you?”

“Yes, I would.”

“Good. I’ll get dressed.”

As Nicole watched Beth return to the bedroom, she wondered what the day would bring.

They traveled through Wisconsin in silence. On occasion, Nicole glanced over to Beth who seemed intent on enjoying the countryside. Nicole remembered their first trip to Holy Hill. Like this, silence dominated. It was then a comfortable silence. Nicole wanted to believe their hush was rooted in comfort and not in discord.

Beth reached for the thermos. “Coffee?”

“I’ll share.”

Beth poured and handed the thermos cup to Nicole. Nicole sipped the coffee, keeping her eyes on the road.

Beth turned and watched Nicole in profile. She searched for the beginning of a conversation. “The Round Table was at it again this week.”

Beth waited as Nicole took another sip of coffee before returning the cup to her. “What subject did they take on this time?”

“Free will.”

“What were the positions?”

“We have it complete. We don’t. We do, but God may choose to intervene.”

“Who were the haves?”

“Peter, Cindy, and Jamie.”

“Have not?”

“Jerry.”

“Bless the Lutherans.”

“Missouri Synod Lutherans.”

“Not to split hairs. If you ask me he sounds like he belongs to the Reform Church….And those who believe we have free will but can still be subject to God?”

“Everyone else.”

Nicole looked over to Beth. “Including you?”

“I believe in the grace of God.”

“Yes, you do.” Nicole affirmed.

Beth accepted Nicole’s comment as a mere statement of fact. There was no judgment.

Nicole chose to continue the exchange. “One thing I just don’t get.”

“Only one?” Beth teased.

“Okay. One of many. What image of God do you have if you believe God has a chosen elect that will be saved while everyone else is passed up for salvation? Where is God’s unbounded love?”

“It’s not my image.”

“I know. I don’t mean to be harsh but the doctrine of the elect and predestination seems to be tailor made for a society where a ruling class wants to convince the oppressed that the status quo is divinely ordained. Or worse, it’s for those afraid to take responsibility for their lives.”

“He is sincere…Jerry.”

“I’m sure he is. That’s what makes it even harder to understand.”

“What do you think about those who believe God can choose to intervene in our free will?”

Nicole looked over to Beth and smiled. “They believe in the grace of God.” Nicole returned her eyes back to the road. “They’re more optimistic than I could ever hope to be.”

“Why optimistic?”

“Petitionary and intercessory prayer.”

“God’s grace is not dependent on prayer.”

“True. But to believe you can petition God and that God may not only hear you but act on your behalf — that’s faith.”

“You’ve prayed.”

“When I was a kid. Before I knew the things I now know.”

Beth tried to envision Nicole as a child. It did not come easily. “I wish I had known you then.”

Again, Nicole turned her gaze toward Beth. For a moment, she held Beth’s eyes with her own and felt the intimacy that had recently eluded them. “So do I.” Nicole felt a rise of emotion. She turned her eyes back to the safer landscape ahead. “Do you believe God has answered any of your prayers?”

Beth knew she sat beside living proof that her prayers had indeed been heard, although the answer was not what she would ever have imagined. “Yes.”

“It couldn’t have just been happenstance?”

“No. It couldn’t.”

Beth surveyed the Church on the Hill off to her right. She had not entered a church, any church, since she left St. Ann’s. The hospital chapel and the sunroom were where she worshiped, sustaining her as she struggled in doubt. She knew this church. She vividly recalled the interior. She could once again hear the choir. The church had the distinction of being the only place of worship that she shared, side by side, with Nicole. Ironically, it was a place that neither one of them could call their spiritual home.

Beth joined the congregants in reciting the Penitential Rite. As she confessed to God and those present of her sins she felt a breach of the numbness that had dominated her spiritual life. From that moment through the Kryrie, Gloria, the Readings, the Blessing and the Eucharist Prayers the breach opened ever wider. She kept her eyes upon the Christ over the altar. She sought out the Christ. She felt the Christ near, but still beyond her reach.

The Celebrant led the congregation in the Lord’s Prayer. Nicole listened to Beth’s gentle voice as she prayed. Beth’s eyes were closed, her head bowed. Ever more strongly, Nicole felt in this public, yet sacred space, the renewal of their intimacy.

The Celebrant raised his hands up and prayed, garnering both Beth and Nicole’s attention. He then looked to the congregation. “The peace of the Lord be with you always.”

The congregation responded. “And also with you.”

“Let us offer each other the Sign of Peace.”

Nicole remained facing forward, her hands held firmly to the pew. Beth turned to her. She perceived Nicole’s hesitancy. She placed her hand over Nicole’s. “Peace be with you, Nicki.”

Nicole felt Beth’s touch. It had been so terribly long since she felt Beth’s warmth. Nicole turned her hand upward, taking Beth’s caringly. She looked at Beth who waited patiently for her. She could not say what she felt, so she said what was expected. “Peace be with you, Beth.”

Beth squeezed Nicole’s hand and smiled, holding her place for a heartbeat before turning to greet the other worshippers. Nicole watched Beth’s movement as if in slow motion before the spell cast shattered and she was returned to real time. She then too offered the Sign of Peace to those beside her.

As the congregants received communion, Beth and Nicole fell back into their own thoughts. Beth was relieved that, as a non-Catholic, participation in the Eucharist was prohibited. She felt a tearing inside her; one she could not put words to. She blinked a tear away.

Nicole could see her mother in her mind’s eye. The woman, lucid and healthy, reached out to Nicole. Nicole looked down to her hands. A flash of memory struck her. Her hands were red and raw, beaten for what offense she could not remember. Nicole did not have the wherewithal to accept her mother’s invitation.

After the service they wordlessly took to the path of the Stations of the Cross. Beth chose this space to broach a lingering question. “Nicki, how did your mother die?”

Nicole paused. She turned her gaze back to the station they had just passed. Jesus carried the cross, a crown of thorns upon his head. “It was late January. She died from exposure at the foot of St. Ann’s stairs.”

Beth spoke her next question more as a thought. “Why didn’t she go in?”

“The doors were locked. It didn’t matter. She had her keys in her pocket. She was only a block away from The Pub. In her illness…I think she was trying to make a point. I’ve never been sure what it might have been.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I was relieved. A part of me was relieved when she died. I wouldn’t have to worry about the suicide attempts, or the hysterical phone calls, or the neighbors telling me what damage she had caused. But at the same time, I….I never got a chance to say good-bye. I couldn’t remember the last time I told her I loved her.” Nicole turned back to Beth. “What kind of daughter does that make me?”

“Human.” Beth spoke faintly.

Nicole confessed. “I didn’t want to be with her.”

“You were protecting yourself.”

“I should have been with her.”

“You were a child.”

“I was in college!” Nicole avowed. Nicole’s passions were dangerously close to slipping through her tenuous hold. She looked away from Beth in an attempt to refocus. Beth had raised the one subject Nicole did not want to discuss on this day. This day was meant to celebrate the good of her life with her mother. She did not want any further reminders of the darkness. She looked down to her gloved hands. The gloves were not enough to conceal her wounds. Nicole buried her hands into her coat pockets.

Beth had no salve for Nicole’s self-recrimination. She wished for Nicole the ability to seek reconciliation. As a priest, Beth had performed The Reconciliation of a Penitent to those who came to her seeking absolution. Beth silently offered Nicole a blessing from the rite. ‘May Almighty God in mercy receive your confession of sorrow and of faith, strengthen you in all goodness, and by the power of the Holy Spirit keep you in eternal life. Amen.’ Beth spoke the only words that she felt Nicole might accept from her. “I’m sorry.”

Nicole heeded Beth. “Let’s walk.”

Beth understood the subject was now closed. She had been given her answer. She had been given more than the simple facts of Nicole’s mother’s death. She had witnessed the guilt of a daughter who wrongly considered herself an accomplice to a death, a death characterized as a suicide, a choice, and not the outcome of mental illness.

As they reached the foot of the hill Beth whispered. “Nicki, look.” Beth pointed into the woods. There stood a young doe.

Nicole spied the doe. In all her visits to the church she had never seen a deer. She held still. The doe caught Nicole’s gaze with her own, matching Nicole’s stillness. Neither was willing to be the first to divert their gaze. A group of children ran down the path, laughing as they threw fallen leaves up in the air and at one another. The doe, startled, bolted. Nicole watched the doe’s flight to safety. She turned to Beth. “Thank you.”

Beth was uncertain of the root of Nicole’s gratitude. She accepted it with a smile. They continued their walk.

Beth noticed Nicole check her watch as they reached the car park. “We have plenty of time.”

“I should have ordered a cab before we left.”

“I’ll take you to the airport.”

“It’s a reimbursable expense.”

Beth wondered why Nicole made it so hard. “Let me. I want to.”

Nicole had no reasonable argument. “Hungry?”

Beth knew her offer had been accepted. “Yes, please.”

Nicole got out of the Jeep. She tilted the passenger seat forward and reached back for her computer case and garment bag, placing them over her shoulders. She leaned back into the Jeep to better see Beth. “Thanks for the ride.”

Beth debated whether to get out. But for the Sign of Peace, they had not touched all weekend. Beth found herself at a loss. It was a similar hesitancy to how she felt prior to their first physical joining, although in this moment it was harder. She did not know how to begin to reach out to Nicole anew. Not even in the simplest way. “Please take care of yourself.”

“I will.”

“Nicki. When will you come home?”

“A couple of weeks if that’s okay?”

Beth realized Nicole was asking permission to return. “Yes, of course. If you let me know ahead of time, I’ll try to keep the weekend free.”

“I’d like that.” Nicole looked about at the heavy traffic. “Beth, I need to go. Security takes forever.”

“I know.”

“I’ll miss you, Beth.” Nicole closed the door and quickly made her way into the terminal.

Beth was taken unaware. Nicole left her no opportunity to respond. Beth unbuckled her seat belt and opened the Jeep door. She got out to follow Nicole.

A National Guard Officer called out. “Hey! No unattended cars. You’ll be towed in a second.”

Beth stopped. Nicole was out of sight. Beth looked at the guard. She realized he was doing his job. She gave him a friendly wave as she returned to the Jeep. Beth had erred in her caution and regretted it deeply.

November 1, 2001

The Administrative Assistant entered Nicole’s office. “Nicole. Brian had this package couriered over from Washington for you.”

Nicole thanked Lisa. She took the large manila envelope and opened it. Inside, a note from Brian was paper clipped to a Federal Express envelope.

Nicole—

John Nolan asked that I make sure you receive this today.

Brian

P.S.: If I don’t speak to you today, have a Happy Birthday!

Nicole got up from her chair and closed the door to her office, one of three reserved for visiting consultants. The late afternoon sun cut across the hardwood. Looking through the large picturesque windows, she could see the sun hovering over the horizon, the beginning of a spectacular sunset.

Nicole returned to her desk and opened the Fed Ex package. Within lay a small card and wrapped in brown paper, what she surmised to be a book. She read the card.

My Dearest Nicole—

I hope this finds you and Beth well. The girls send their regards. It meant a great

deal to them to see you at their mother’s memorial service.

I’ve been slowly going through Carrie’s things. I found the enclosed. She meant to

give it to you today.

I hope we can get together next time you’re in New York.

Happy Birthday. Live life to the fullest.

Love,

John

Nicole placed John’s letter aside. Her eyes rested upon the package. Throughout the day Carrie’s memory had dominated Nicole thoughts, more so than even Beth. From the moment she awakened and realized that for the first time in six years Carrie would not be sharing the day with her, Carrie’s ghost became her companion. For the first time in six years Carrie’s ridiculous gift would not threaten to publicly embarrass her. For the first time in six years she would not see the glee in Carrie’s eyes or hear her uncensored laughter. It was Carrie’s irreverence Nicole remembered, that instilled itself in the air during the first two shared birthdays. As their friendship deepened, Carrie changed her tactics. There were always two gifts, one to mortify and one to enlighten. The latter was always a book and Nicole knew Carrie took the task of choosing the volume seriously. It was always a book Carrie had read during the previous year, one that impressed or touched her. The gift was always a reflection of Carrie’s spirit. Nicole was never disappointed.

Nicole unwrapped the package. Jean Shinoda Bolen’s Ring of Power: Symbols and Themes, Love vs Power in Wagner’s Ring Cycle and in Us, A Jungian Feminist Perspective awaited her. Nicole opened the cover to the title page. It was there that she found Carrie’s flowing script.

Nicki—

There is a challenge in this book to see oneself for who you are, accepting the reasons why you are, and having the courage to become who you are meant to become. I pray that you find the truth I found. It is a truth about love and power. It is a truth that can set you free.

Love,

Carrie

Nicole’s fingertips rested below Carrie’s name. Unto her hand fell a tear, and then another. Nicole’s tears continued to fall freely. Her sorrow quaked, threatening the foundation of her sensibilities. She could no longer master her emotions. And that brought her perilously close to the darkness that she had kept at bay ever since the merciful day she rose above the grief of her mother’s death.

“Good evening, Ms. Thera.”

“Hello Richard. Any messages?”

“Ms. Kelly.”

“She called?”

“No. She’s waiting for you in the lounge.”

Beth sat on a tall back leather chair, a small table and standing lamp at her side. She kept a watchful eye on the lounge entrance. She did not know when to expect Nicole’s return. She was prepared to spend the evening in wait. She held her prayer beads in her hand. She had sought the solace of prayer during her flight to Boston. She feared she would need their comfort if her wait extended through the night. Beth saw Nicole turn toward the lounge. She pocketed the beads and reached for a small gift-wrapped package that she had rested on the table.

As much as Nicole had longed for Beth to contact her, having Beth so near seemed impossible. Nicole approached. She purposely kept herself a few paces away. “Hi.”

Beth stood and smiled nervously. “Hi.”

Nicole waited. Beth realized the silence was still hers to break. She reached out and offered the small box to Nicole. “Happy birthday, Nicki.”

Nicole’s eyes rested on the box. She placed her brief and John’s Fed Ex package down on the floor. Straightening up, she hesitantly reached and took the gift in hand. She studied the small box. She had no idea what Beth could offer her. She slowly unwrapped the box and placed the paper down on a side table. The black felt box promised any number of possibilities. She mentally steeled herself and then opened it. A sterling silver Celtic pendant with a silver necklace laid waiting. Nicole knew the pattern well. Two circles intertwined, one above the other, the higher symbolizing the spirit, the lower the earth. At center a line, erect, symbolizing humanity joining both. Nicole took the pendant in her hand. This was the first time Beth had so clearly acknowledged the pagan roots of Nicole’s beliefs. She smiled because she knew that this particular design was also the vesica piscis. The early Celtic Christians appropriated the pagan symbol and made it theirs.

Beth stepped forward. “Nicki.”

“It’s beautiful.” Nicole raised her eyes to Beth. “Thank you.”

“Did you have plans for the night?”

Nicole returned her gaze to the pendant. “I was going to stay in and wait to see if you would call me.”

Beth’s heart ached at Nicole’s unguarded frankness and the uncertainty it revealed. She placed her hand over Nicole’s. “What would you like to do?”

Nicole was emotionally spent. “I’d like to go up and order room service.” Nicole looked over to Beth’s overnight bag. “How long can you stay?”

“Saturday. I have to be at the hospital by four-thirty.”

“Two nights.”

“I wish it could be more.”

Nicole took hold of Beth’s hand. “Let’s go up.”

Upon entering Nicole’s room, Beth realized that it was the same suite Nicole had stayed in when Beth last visited Nicole in Boston. The suite was indicative of Nicole’s effort to maintain the familiar. Beth’s re-acquaintance to the space was seamless. Nicole kept her things in the same place. It was as if Beth had never left three months before.

Nicole released Beth’s hand. “Why don’t you settle in?”

In one fluid motion Beth placed her luggage on the floor and reclaimed Nicole’s hand with her own. Nicole paused. Beth acted out of her own need. She went to Nicole and kissed her. Nicole stepped back from the unexpected press of Beth against her. She took Beth into a hesitant embrace, her hands falling lightly against Beth’s back.

Beth did not withhold her passion. Nicole felt as if she was being split apart. She did not want to disappoint Beth but she also felt unready to feel the emotions Beth had the power to call forth.

Beth’s kisses traveled to Nicole’s neck. Nicole felt a light bite. The sensation drew Nicole’s eyes shut as she involuntarily exposed herself further to Beth.

Beth felt a rising desperation to give to Nicole all that she withheld during the previous weeks. She whispered, “I’m yours, Nicki,” hoping the words would convey all that remained unspoken, the apology too painful to voice.

Nicole’s self control was slipping away from her. She rested her forehead upon Beth’s shoulder. Beth knew the gesture. It was the closest act of surrender Nicole ever allowed. Beth took Nicole by the hand and led her to the bedroom. Nicole followed passively. Upon reaching the bed Beth stripped Nicole of her coat, letting it drop at their feet. She continued the process of undressing Nicole, offering reassuring kisses as she alternately removed her own clothes.

Beth entered under the bed covers guiding Nicole to lie over her. The warmth of Beth’s flesh stirred Nicole. She was with Beth. Being with Beth was tenderness and care, more than passion. Nicole stroked Beth’s hair aside. Nicole’s eyes followed her hand’s continuous gesture. Beth studied Nicole, cognizant of Nicole’s distance. Beth wanted to call Nicole to her, but chose to set aside her own needs as well as the needs she ascribed to Nicole. She decided instead to follow Nicole wherever Nicole took them.

Nicole returned her gaze to Beth. She did not know how to love Beth. She did not know how to keep her fear at bay. She did not know how to cross the bridge. In her mind the bridge was suspended over a chasm by a fragile cord. She did not believe she could survive falling into the precipice again. Nicole kissed Beth lightly and then pulled herself down resting her head upon Beth’s breast, her hand over Beth’s abdomen.

Beth understood Nicole’s posture. She understood Nicole did not want a night of lovemaking. Beth laid her arms over Nicole. Once again Beth’s expectations were not realized. She closed her eyes and spoke a silent prayer for Nicole and for herself. Soon, she fell into a deep sleep.

Beth awoke in the middle of the night. The steady weight against her body had been removed. She wrapped herself in a blanket and went to the living room threshold. Robed, Nicole sat on the couch, her legs tucked closed to her, her back to Beth.

Nicole recalled her birthday a year past. Beth’s beauty, compassion and intelligence had intrigued her. Beth was unreachable. Nicole was certain of the limits and determined to live with the constraints, grateful that friendship might be a possibility. A few days prior to her birthday they had enjoyed tea at The Garden and attended a lecture at the university. November brought the trip to Wisconsin and her operation. November was the beginning of a love Nicole could never master. It was neither for her to master Beth nor for Nicole to master herself. It was for Nicole to live life unimpeded. It was for Nicole to begin to live those words that guided her life. To accept, not countermand. To accept, not hold at arm’s length, to accept without doubt.

If Beth had maintained her distance, all that Nicole knew would have been affirmed. Around Nicole’s neck hung the Celtic pendant. She need only close her eyes and be still and she could feel its weight against her skin.

Beth debated whether to respect Nicole’s privacy and return to bed or to place herself in reach of Nicole. Beth knew that given Nicole’s current vulnerability she had to temper her presence. Still, Beth had come to Boston with a purpose she had yet to realize.

Nicole felt a blanket sweep across her arm. Beth silently made a place for herself beside Nicole. Nicole shifted her legs inviting Beth beside her. Beth rested against Nicole. A comfortable silence settled between them.

“Nicki?”

“I’m here.”

“I’m sorry I sent you away.”

“I’m good at leaving. It was easier than staying.”

“I haven’t been fair to you. So much has happened. It’s been hard. Harder than I thought it would be.”

“Us?”

“Leaving the Church. Not having a church. I’ve been spending more time in the hospital chapel. It’s helped a little.”

“Good.”

“It’s also been hard at the hospital. I knew I would have some bad days but September 11th seemed to make every day hard to get through. I couldn’t answer the questions. I didn’t know how to get through the anger and depression people felt. I’ve felt there was nothing I could say or do to help the patients and families or the staff. The night before I suggested we separate I lost a patient in ICU. I watched the doctors try to revive her. It was ugly. No one should be touched the way she was touched. I was angry at you. We had just argued about DNRs and removing life support.” Beth took Nicole’s hand. “I thought I was strong. I thought my faith would always help me.”

“I wish you had told me.”

“I know. But, you handled the tragedy so well. I resented the fact that your faith in life wasn’t shaken. September 11th just confirmed everything you believed.”

Nicole was reeling inside. She found it difficult to believe that she was the model of strength to Beth. Had she camouflaged the truth so well, or was Beth incapable of or simply not wanting to see Nicole’s truth? “I’ve had my bad days, too.”

“I want you to come home.”

Nicole said nothing. She did not know what kind of home she was returning to, what kind of home she had the heart to create.

Beth sat up. “Do you want to come home?”

“Yes.”

“There is a get together for the student chaplains and their families next Friday night. I’ll understand if you’d rather not.”

It would be Nicole’s introduction to The Round Table. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Nicole sat on Beth’s side of the bed. “Good morning.”

Beth opened her eyes. Nicole was fully dressed. “Hi. You leaving?”

“It’s still a work day for me. I’ll try to get back early. I’ll let the front desk know to give you a key. It’s going to be a beautiful day. You can do some exploring.”

“Okay.”

“If I can juggle my schedule would you like to meet me for lunch?”

“I’d like that.”

“I’ll call you around ten.” Nicole leaned down and kissed Beth lightly. Her Celtic pendant swept over Beth’s cross. “I’m sorry I wasn’t better company last night. I am glad you came.”

“Me, too.”

November 3, 2001

Beth and Nicole walked out of the hotel lobby hand in hand. The doorman took Beth’s overnight bag and waved a taxi over. As the women waited, the doorman opened the cab door and placed Beth’s bag on the far end of the rear seat. He then stood back and held the door for Beth.

Nicole had grown progressively distant throughout the day. Beth felt that though the distance between them had narrowed in the previous two days, there was still a persistent span that separated them. When words failed her, Beth tried to reach across to Nicole by engaging her body. Nicole had followed Beth’s gentle seduction during the previous evening. Nicole made love to Beth with a fragileness of spirit that did not escape Beth. After taking Beth to climax Nicole retreated, lying on her side, her back to Beth. Beth was powerless. Nicole would not open herself up any further. Beth chose to lie against Nicole, asking no more of her. What sense of rejection she felt was tempered when Nicole reached back and took Beth’s hand in her own, moving it forward, holding it close to her heart.

The doorman waited. Beth released Nicole’s hand and stepped forward. Upon reaching the cab door, she turned and looked back toward Nicole. Beth would not repeat her mistake. She retraced her steps to Nicole, taking her in a complete embrace. Overwhelmed, Nicole held Beth gingerly. Beth spoke the words she had withheld, for no just reason, from Nicole, “I love you.”

Nicole tightened her hold for a moment before releasing Beth. They separated sufficiently to be able to see each other fully. Nicole begged patience. “Beth…”

Beth cupped Nicole’s face with her hand. “Come home as soon as you can.”

Nicole nodded.

Without further delay Beth turned and entered the cab. The doorman closed the door behind her. Nicole watched as the cab drove on toward the airport.

November 9, 2001

Nicole arranged to see Jacob upon her arrival in Chicago. Though feeling better, as much as she tried she could not find her footing.

Jacob had listened attentively. “Is there more?”

Nicole confessed. “I haven’t been able to tell her that I love her.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Since she pulled back from me… When I look at her. When I touch her. I feel…all I feel is my love for her, but I can’t…”

“And your fear. Isn’t that true? You are frightened.”

Nicole gave Jacob her complete regard. “Yes.”

Jacob patted Nicole’s hand. “When you are young, when love is young you believe nothing will come close to your love, but you are wrong. So very wrong. The love deepens and this new love is both familiar and new. What I believe you are feeling is a deepening of your love for Beth.” Jacob bit down on his pipe. “How can that be you may ask? She has already consumed you. What more can you give? How much more is there to receive? My Nicole, the depth of your heart has no limit. I believe Beth will take you places within yourself that you do not even know exist. There is a risk. Beth is as human as you are. She will make mistakes. And when she does, you may be hurt. And the hurt will be deeper than any you have ever known. This pain you have carried with you. Beth is one source of this pain. You must trust her. You must trust yourself. I have had this pain. I promise you. You will not regret it.”

“Liza?”

“Yes. Except I must confess that I have hurt her more than she could ever hurt me. Why she stays with me I do not know. But she does. She is always with me no matter how big the fool I become. She is my lifeline when I get lost on the sea. She brings me back. I may be an old man, good for nothing, but I know love because Liza’s lesson cannot be forgotten.”

November 9, 2001-PM

“Who is that?” Jerry’s attention was diverted by the strikingly beautiful woman at the door.

Beth and Pam turned to look. Nicole stood at the threshold.

Jerry mused. “Wonder if she belongs to anyone?”

Pam turned to Beth and smiled.

“Excuse me.” Beth went to Nicole and took her into an embrace.

Nicole held tight.

“I’ve missed you.”

“I hope I’m not too late. I dropped my things off at the apartment first.”

“How was your flight?”

Nicole placed her hand upon Beth’s cheek. “I love you.”

It did not matter that Beth was certain of Nicole’s love. Beth felt at times that Nicole’s love and God’s love came to her the same way. It was independent of her effort. Nicole’s simple words had not been voiced in weeks. Beth had yet to understand why. She did know that Nicole was struggling and until she finished wrestling with the angels she would not speak. The smile, the gesture, the incomparable three words had marked an ending and a new beginning. Beth felt the new beginning. It took hold of her, shattering all doubts she harbored. Nicole belonged to her.

Beth embraced Nicole completely. Nicole was well aware of what she had done and Beth’s recognition of the same. Nicole whispered in Beth’s ear. “I think we’re making a scene.”

“I don’t care.”

“Yes, but I think I’m feeling a strong dose of envy in the air. You want these people to like me, don’t you?”

Beth laughed and stepped back. “Come on. There’s someone I want you to meet.” She led Nicole to Cindy.

Beth noticed a gathering had formed in a far corner of the room. She returned to her conversation with Christine and her husband, Aaron. Christine noticed the gathering as well. “I wonder what’s going on.”

Peter approached the three-some. “Beth. You might want to play referee between Nicole and our resident scholar.”

Beth was not overly concerned. “What are they talking about?”

“DNRs and removal of life-support.”

“Nicki can hold her own.”

Peter smiled. “She’s not the one I’m worried about.”

Christine encouraged. “Come on Beth. Let’s at least watch.”

Beth relented. “Oh right. But, I’m not interfering.”

Beth led the contingent. The other students and family members parted, creating a path for her, giving her free access to the contest. Beth kept a discreet distance.

Jerry was querying Nicole. “Beth mentioned you like to read the Greeks. Are they your authority?”

Nicole could not believe someone as condescending as Jerry would aspire to become a chaplain.

“I don’t particularly need to reference other philosophers to justify my beliefs, but as long as you mentioned the Classics, it’s a good place to start.”

“I have limited use for them.”

“You do?”

“Their arguments are flawed.”

Nicole hadn’t had a good discussion regarding Greek philosophy for some time. She was looking forward to exploring the subject. “Which arguments, specifically?”

“The Cynics had no reverence for life. They felt death was a reasonable choice.”

“And it isn’t?”

“No. Human beings shouldn’t take a shortcut to eternity.”

“But the Cynics didn’t believe in an afterlife. They weren’t taking a shortcut to anything but ceasing to exist.”

“That’s nihilism.”

“Wasn’t it the Stoics and not the Cynics who argued that death could be a rational decision? The Cynics’ position was more an issue of being able to live life according to nature.”

“You’re right about the Stoics, but the Cynics still applied logos to determine whether they were living a worthwhile life.”

Beth witnessed a gleam in Nicole’s eyes.

“Yes, you’re right.” Nicole waited for Jerry’s next move. He made none so she decided to take the lead. “What other arguments do you discount?”

Jerry would not be maneuvered. He responded with his own question. “How about you? What argument can you make?”

“I can’t say I’m convinced by Plato’s reasons for sanctioning the choice of death. I mean I’m not going to choose death because the polis orders me to.” Nicole posed the rhetorical question. “And because of intolerable shame or devastating misfortune? Depends on what the devastating misfortune is. Complete loss of my ability to live independently might qualify. Then there’s Aristotle’s denial of choice because of our civic duty to the state to stay alive. What if the civic duty gets redefined to be a quick and inexpensive death? Problem there…. Anyway, I’m not much for the wholesale sacrifice of individual free will to the benefit of the state. I agree with most of what the Cynics believed and I don’t find them that incompatible with the Epicureans. The problem I have with the Stoics is their belief in predestination. It makes me wonder if Martin Luther read them.”

Beth suppressed a laugh as Nicole linked Jerry’s Lutheran tradition to her own classical roots.

Nicole continued. “Still, they left a loop hole. I mean, the Stoics argued that taking one’s life might simply be one’s destiny. I personally hold to Cicero. In Tusculan Disputations he wrote that life is a preparation for death. I think its amazing that it was only thirty years ago that a modern like Elizabeth Kübler-Ross shook up the medical profession when she wrote the same thing in her death work.”

Beth leaned over to Cindy who had moved to her side and whispered. “Should I rescue Jerry?”

Cindy responded with an equal hush. “I’ll never forgive you if you do.”

Nicole paused. The ensuing silence jarred Jerry from his effort to keep up with her argument. He lacked confidence in his own knowledge to offer a response.

Nicole chose to bring the subject back to a Christian reference. “Jerry, I’m confused. With the strong influence of Neo-Platonist on Christian theology, I would have thought you would have found merit in Plotinus’ writings.”

Jerry was feeling nauseous. “What do you mean?”

“He argued that no one could rationally decide to kill oneself. He also argued that a good soul should always decide to remain in the body. It’s interesting that he didn’t have to rely on the Pythagorean argument that to kill oneself was an act against God. Not that it would matter to me. Since I don’t believe in God, God is a non-issue. Back to Plotinus, I agree with him that to choose death can’t be a rational act. I wouldn’t want it to be. It’s an act of the human will that takes into account reason, emotion and faith. So the choice is never completely rational…The problem with the issue of voluntary death is that the civil powers feel it has an obligation to intervene. I don’t know if Seneca’s perspective that death is the ultimate choice of a free man will ever be something our society can come to terms with. What do you think, Jerry?”

Beth could see that Jerry was drowning. He could not match Nicole’s mastery of the subject. Beth, well aware of Nicole’s gifted, near genius intellect, was not completely surprised by Nicole taking Jerry and all the others listening on a whirlwind tour of Greek philosophy. Still, Beth was impressed by the relative ease with which Nicole had done so with a subject far from common social discourse. Beth was proud, so very proud, of Nicole. And, she had to admit that within the span of a few minutes, she had come to a new appreciation for Nicole’s position on an individual’s right to choose death, even though Beth still dissented on certain specific points.

Jerry found his voice. It was fueled by hurt pride. “I can’t argue with you. Anyone who discounts God is too far removed from the forum to be of any value.”

Nicole felt the insult. Her response was tempered. “In your opinion.”

“I can see why it’s so hard for Beth to tolerate your godless arrogance.”

The room stilled. Observers uncomfortably waited for Nicole’s response. But, it was not Nicole that Jerry was at most risk from. Nor, was it Beth. Pam was well aware that Jerry had not technically breached CPE confidentiality by speaking of Beth’s feelings toward Nicole’s non-Christian faith if his knowledge was socially obtained. However, Pam knew that Jerry’s comment was taken out of context, to such an extent, that it lacked any merit whatsoever. The betrayal of one chaplain by another was unconscionable and she would not tolerate it in the CPE program.

Nicole felt the verbal assault. It was brutal. She did not know how much truth there was in it and she did not care. In the moment, rational thought was hard to come by. Still, she would not engage in the violence. “Excuse me. I had a long flight from Boston. I think it’s best if I call it a night.”

Nicole turned in a direction away from both Jerry and Beth. Jerry looked around. He could see in the eyes of his peers that he had turned himself into a pariah. As he searched for some evidence of support his gaze crossed path with Beth’s. He did not know what to make of it. All animation had been arrested. She maintained the connection until he could not bear it any longer. He turned away.

November 10, 2001

Two hours had passed before Nicole returned to the apartment. She stood outside the door. There was a life within the apartment she ached for, yet equally feared. She felt the fine double edge blade of joy and sorrow, a blade finished more sharply as the distance between her and Beth was abolished.

Beth entered the living room from the kitchen as Nicole closed the door. “Nicki?”

Nicole needed to break the tension quickly. “All I can say is if Jerry to going to be one of the elect he better hope God has a storehouse of grace to go around.”

Beth spoke before fully comprehending the humor behind Nicole’s words. “I didn’t say…”

Nicole smiled widely. “Don’t you think I know that?” Nicole removed her coat. “I admit it took a couple of blocks before I remembered what a jerk Jerry is. Did he get out of the room alive?”

Beth grinned. “Barely.”

“You didn’t hit him or anything?”

Beth laughed. “No.”

Nicole hung her coat in the hall closet. “By the way, how did I do?”

“I was impressed.”

If it was possible, Nicole’s smile grew brighter. “I’ve got to be the best heathen I can be when I’m with your crowd.”

Beth was about to protest before she gave it a second thought. “They are my crowd, aren’t they?”

“Yes, they are.” Nicole looked about. “Well, I better unpack.”

“I put your laptop case in the den and your garment bag in the bedroom.”

Nicole gave Beth her consideration. Beth’s invitation was evident, so too Nicole’s acceptance. “Thank you.”

Beth took a step. “Nicki. Are we okay?”

In the moment, Nicole had no doubt. “Yes Beth, we are.”

“I want…” Beth pulled back her need.

“What is it?”

“I want to make love to you.”

Nicole went to Beth, taking her hands in her own. “And I want you to make love to me. I want you to take me with you and if it seems as if I’m drifting away from you, I want you to call me back. Whatever you do, don’t let me slip away from you. Keep me with you from the beginning until the end. Do it, Beth. Do it for me.”

“Nicki.”

Beth’s touch had Nicole on the edge. Nicole moaned as the pleasure neared pain.

“Say my name.” Beth stopped all motion to Nicole’s torture. “Nicki, say my name.”

Nicole felt Beth’s voice pull her back. She complied. “Beth.”

“That’s right. Stay with me, Nicki.” Beth renewed the intimate strokes.

Nicole reached out with her hand. She held Beth’s idle forearm. The tension intensified. Without further coaching, Nicole whispered Beth’s name. The tension within her tightened ever more, impossibly so. Again, she voiced Beth’s name. The break came. The bough supporting Nicole’s self-control broke in her complete physical release, crashing. Nicole’s body shuddered as she cried out Beth’s name. Beth felt Nicole’s viselike grip on her arm. She held steady as Nicole’s body convulsed in spasms. As Nicole calmed, Beth shifted, blanketing Nicole’s body with her own, offering herself as a shield. Nicole’s hands fluttered on Beth’s back.

“I love you, Nicki.”

There were the words. Nicole began to cry. These were not easy tears. They came from the past with full, unrestrained force. They had been bound for all of her adult life, refused any mode of expression. Nicole cried deeply. Her will surrendered. Beth had never been witness to Nicole’s free tears. Her suspicions of the depth of Nicole’s unexpressed sorrow were confirmed. She held Nicole until the tears subsided and she drifted to sleep.

Beth awoke to find herself alone in bed. The table clock read 2:28 a.m. She listened for a hint of Nicole’s whereabouts. She heard nothing. Sitting up she could see a sliver of light in the hall. Beth followed the light to its origin.

The den door was slightly ajar. Beth used her hand to open it further. Nicole’s desk lamp provided the dim light. Nicole stood at the corner window looking out into the night.

“Nicki.” Beth entered the room.

Nicole head turned slightly in response to Beth’s voice. She gathered her thoughts. “I’ve been having a reoccurring dream, more like a nightmare. I was a ghost standing at the foot of our bed. I kept watch while you and I lay in bed. You were holding me like you always do. You woke up and leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. You must have sensed something was wrong. I must have been cold. I wasn’t breathing. I had died. I died in your arms. It was the sweetest death I could ever have dreamed of. But then I saw what it did to you. I don’t know how to live with that dream. I don’t know how to live with the truth that the closer we become the more painful it will be when that day comes.”

Beth struggled to compose herself. She spoke softly. “Has your diagnosis changed?”

Nicole saw the fear in Beth. She made a decision. “No.”

Beth offered God a silent thank you. She approached Nicole pausing less than an arm’s length from her. “I could be first.”

Nicole was taken aback. She shook her head in defiance. “No.”

There was a part of Beth that understood Nicole’s fear all too well. “My mother was thirty-one when she died of ovarian cancer. Her mother - my maternal grandmother - died of cancer too. I have the genetic trait that puts me at a high risk.”

Nicole was wrenched from her own path onto Beth’s. She turned to Beth, maintaining a steady tone. “You never said anything.”

“Nicki. You believe in fate. I believe in God. Either way we can’t change our destiny. We can only fight for it. I want to grow old with you. I want to love you as your hair turns salt and pepper and you wear your first pair of glasses and you move just a little slower so it’s easier for me to keep up with you. But, I don’t know how long I’m going to… You’ve been ill and I know someday your illness might come back, but I can’t stop loving you because of the possibility of a reoccurrence. I can’t stop loving you because it will break my heart to have you leave me or for me to leave you.”

“I’m scheduled to fly back to Boston on Sunday. I can call and postpone my flight.”

Beth was touched by Nicole’s offer, but she knew Nicole had to live her life without fear. “You have a job to do.”

“There are more important things…”

“You made a commitment.”

“Yes. To you.”

“If your dream is true, you’re going to die here in my arms, not in Boston.”

Nicole had met her match. “So, are you saying that as a matter of self-preservation I should go?”

“Whatever it takes.”

Nicole had not dwelled on Beth’s mother’s death. The fact now loomed as a risk, a threat. “How often do you see your doctor?”

“Every year around my birthday. She’s thorough.”

“Test results?”

“All negative.”

“Marie?”

“She’s fine. She’s less at risk. She doesn’t have the genetic mutation.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Nicki. In the scheme of things it just wasn’t high on my list.”

“Then why tell me now?”

“Because we’re not as different as you may think. You told me once you didn’t believe that we were promised more than the life we were given - the here and now. You were right, accepting the finite isn’t the hard part. Finding hope, finding meaning in life in spite of the finite is.”

“And so you have your calling.”

“And I have you.”

November 22, 2001-Thanksgiving

Nicole and Beth had chosen to enjoy a quiet, private Thanksgiving. They lay on the couch reading. It had become a habit they developed without words. If Nicole wanted to be alone she would read in the den. If Beth sought her solitude, she would be found in the sunroom. If they longed for the other, they would rest on the living room couch, an unspoken invitation to the other to join her. Tonight, Nicole was the first to take up residence on the couch.

Beth had been reading the Psalms. She closed her Bible and shifted her body toward Nicole. Beth placed her hand over the pages of Nicole’s open book.

Nicole wore a false frown. “I was in the middle of a sentence.”

Beth waited. With one hand Nicole raised the book away. She leaned forward and kissed her. Beth laid her head against Nicole’s chest, seeking Nicole’s heartbeat.

Nicole kissed the top of Beth’s head and laid her book down. She then reached for Beth’s Bible and took careful possession of it, placing it on top of her own book. “One thing I admire about the ancient Greeks was their concept of hospitality. They would feed and bathe visitors, total strangers, not requiring them to disclose their name. And it wasn’t uncommon for a host to give a visitor a gift to take with them. The belief was that someday their roles would be reversed and the host would enjoy the hospitality of the visitor.”

“It’s too bad we lost that custom.”

“It’s made me think about the whole concept of gift giving.”

“In what way?”

“I was thinking about the exchange of rings.”

Beth raised herself up. She was intent in her constant gaze. It took all of Nicole’s self control to maintain eye contact.

Nicole continued. “It doesn’t necessarily have to be equated with ownership. There are many rituals in history that in form are similar but the underlying meaning is different. And there is nothing to say that two people couldn’t chose to imbue an old form with new meaning if they were of the same mind.”

“I would agree.”

“What if you exchanged gifts with someone else?”

“Rings?”

“Rings. What would that mean to you?”

“With a friend or more than a friend?”

“A friend and more. Much more.”

“It would mean that I was true to her. That I would not live my life without consideration of her. That I loved her in a way that I don’t have the words to express, so I’ve given her a symbol, a ring, without beginning or end, complete onto itself.”

“The ring. Would it be elaborate or simple?”

“A gold band.”

“Would the exchange need to be public?”

Beth would not ask that of Nicole. “It could be private. Just the two of us.”

“Are you sure that would be enough?”

“Yes, Nicki. It would.”

“It’s something to think about.”

“If and when ….you’ll know.”

Beth rested back on Nicole’s chest. She decided to take advantage of Nicole’s open mood. “Nicki. I’d like a Christmas tree.” Beth waited for Nicole’s yelp.

Nicole stroked Beth’s hair. “Where do you want to put it?”

Beth looked up. She wondered when the real Nicole Thera had been kidnapped and replaced by the woman in her arms. Beth still doubted. She knew there would be no debate if she chose the sunroom although that was not her preference. She decided to risk all. “By the fireplace.”

“That should work. We’ll have to move the chairs.”

“Cindy and I were thinking of going tree shopping together. Want to come with us?”

Nicole offered Beth a playful scoff. “I’ll pass. Christmas and everything that goes with it is yours. Okay?”

Beth was relieved. The Nicole she knew had not gone too far away. “Are you sure about this?”

“No decorations in the den and I’ll be a happy heathen.”

Beth laid her head back on Nicole’s chest. She loved her ‘happy heathen.’ Given their unforeseen discussion of rings, Beth chose not to renew the subject of gifts. Nicole held firm their first Christmas. In spite of their conversation, Beth did not expect this year to be any different.

December 15, 2001

Nicole felt as if she was being watched. She looked up.

Beth stood at the den entrance. “Hi”

“Hi. You’re holding up the door frame quite nicely.”

“Thank you. I need a favor.”

“Why are alarms going off in my head?” Nicole absentmindedly tapped her pen against the desk.

“I don’t know.”

“It might be the smile you’re wearing.”

“You like my smile.”

“Yes, I do.”

“I need help with the tree.”

“I thought we had a deal.”

“Just one thing. I’m having a hard time reaching the top of the tree to put on the star.”

“You want me to hold you up?”

“Or, you could put the star on?”

“I’d rather hold you up.” Nicole teased.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“How?”

“Name it.”

Nicole admonished. “Beth. You’re taking a big risk here.”

“Will you help me?” Beth was unfazed.

Nicole got to her feet. “Lead me to the tree.”

Beth placed her hand on Nicole’s heart as Nicole reached her. “What do you want in return?”

“I’ll take a rain check. I’m sure something ‘ll come up.”

Beth took Nicole’s hand and led her to the living room. Beth had stored the decoration boxes and cleaned. All the furniture was in place except for the kitchen step stool awaiting Nicole. They paused before the eight-foot pine. Nicole had to admit it was beautifully adorned. The balance of the room was modestly decorated. Beth had exercised tasteful restraint. Nicole approved. All that remained to complete the tree was the star, which lay on the fireplace mantle. Beth offered the star to Nicole. Nicole took advantage of the step stool and quickly rested the star on the tree, plugging it to a nearby light cord.

“How’s that.”

“Perfect.”

Nicole stepped down.

“Nicki. Wait here for a minute.”

Nicole suppressed a protest as Beth returned the step stool to the kitchen and darkened the nearby room lights. She then went to the back of the tree and plugged in the master light cord. The tree shone. Beth walked to the sunroom threshold to capture a broad view of the tree and the fireplace. Nicki could see Beth’s delight. She wanted to bask in it. “It’s beautiful.”

“You like it?”

Nicole walked over to Beth and gave her a gentle kiss. “You’ve done good.”

Beth’s eyes turned from Nicole back to the tree. “Thank you.”

“Anything else I can do?”

“No. I’m just going to sit here for a while.”

“Okay.”

Nicole left the room as Beth made herself comfortable on the living room couch. Within a few minutes Nicole returned. Beth followed Nicole with her eyes. She said nothing as Nicole slid herself behind Beth on the couch. With a clear view of the tree, Beth rested against Nicole. She knew no greater happiness.

December 24, 2001

Nicole and Beth walked home hand in hand after enjoying a quiet dinner. Nicole noted that Beth had grown introspective. She squeezed Beth’s hand. “Beth, what is it?”

“Would you mind very much if I leave the apartment for a few hours tonight?”

“Midnight Mass?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“St Paul’s.”

“May I come with you?”

“Would you?”

“I want to be with you tonight.”

“And you’ll go to Mass to do it?”

Nicole kissed Beth’s gloved hand. “Go figure.”

St. Paul’s and the Redeemer Episcopal Church on Dorchester Street was walking distance from the apartment.

Beth took her Book of Common Prayer with her. It was a gift given to her by her home congregation on the occasion of her ordination. Six months had passed since she worshipped in an Episcopal Church. Her only formal worship experience during that time was her visit to the Hill with Nicole.

Nicole held her hand as they entered the edifice. Beth chose to sit mid-point from the altar. They sat at the edge of the center aisle. This would allow all the least amount of inconvenience as Nicole excused herself from communion. Upon entering the pew, Nicole released Beth’s hand. Beth lowered the kneeler and knelt in prayer. She sought her own words of adoration, praise and thanksgiving but found her well dry. She looked up to the Christ. She silently recited Psalm 121.

I lift up my eyes to the hills;

from where is my help to come?

My help comes from the LORD,

the maker of heaven and earth.

He will not let your foot be moved

and he who watches over you will not fall asleep.

Behold, he who keeps watch over Israel

shall neither slumber nor sleep:

The LORD himself watches over you;

the LORD is your shade at your right hand,

So that the sun shall not strike you by day,

nor the moon by night.

The LORD shall preserve you from all evil;

it is he who shall keep you safe.

The Lord shall watch over your going out and

your coming in,

from this time fourth for evermore.

The celebrant entered in procession, followed by an assistant priest and a deacon. It had been so long for Beth. She observed their chasubles, flowing, beautiful. All the garments she owned that she wore to celebrate the Divine Liturgy were carefully packed and kept out of sight. She worshiped unable to keep herself spiritually from the altar. She spoke all the prayers of the celebrant. Though the Catholic liturgy was similar to the Episcopal, Beth felt a renewed intimacy here at St. Paul’s that eluded her at Holy Hill.

At The Peace, Beth and Nicole turned to one another. Beth leaned forward and kissed Nicole gently on the lips. “Peace, Nicki.”

Nicole rested her hand on Beth’s arm. “Peace, my love.” Nicole was hopeful for Beth’s sake.

As the service continued Beth silently recited the Eucharistic Prayer. In her mind she raised the host and the chalice. She broke the bread. She offered both the Body and Blood of Christ to the communicants.

Beth stood up. Nicole stepped out of the pew to allow her and the other worshippers an easy exit. Nicole watched Beth’s every step.

Beth received the Sacraments in both kinds. She followed the host as the priest placed it in her hands. She lifted the host into her mouth, feeling its light weight upon her tongue. She stepped to the Deacon who offered the chalice. She drank the wine. The taste was a blend of sweet and bitter. Beth walked back to the pew feeling a rising break of her heart. She knelt in prayer. The words of adoration, praise and thanksgiving still would not come.

Nicole’s gaze rested upon Beth. Throughout the service Nicole felt Beth had left herself exposed to potential harm although Nicole had no name for that harm. All Nicole wanted to do was protect Beth but she knew that the battle was not hers to fight for Beth. The conflict was between Beth and the Church, mediated by Beth’s God. The conflict was located so far deep in Beth that Nicole knew she had no hope of mapping its topography. Beth’s stillness was interrupted by brief movement. Nicole leaned forward in concern. Beth was in tears. Nicole did not hesitate. She knelt beside Beth and placed her arm around Beth’s shoulder coaxing Beth to her. Beth allowed herself to be taken. Her tears continued as Nicole held her in a tender embrace.

Nicole looked to the image of Jesus of Nazareth on the cross, to Beth’s Christ. Where was God’s perfect love? Where was the agape? Where was the love this Church’s namesake preached in Chapter 13 of his first letter to the Corinthians? Where was the patient, kind love, the love that is not resentful, the love that rejoices in the truth? Where was the greatest of virtues?

Nicole could not fathom how a God would allow a child of its creation, a child who longed to love and dedicate herself to its service, the pain of estrangement Beth felt. Nicole could not fathom how a God would allow a child of its creation, Beth, to be rejected by the very institution that professed to live in Christ.

All Nicole wanted was for Beth to heal. There seemed to be no respite for Beth, no oasis to quench her thirst to sustain her on her journey. The one place where Nicole thought Beth should find rest and the affirming waters of life, the Church, left her in the parched desert, barred her from finding shade under its roof or access to its well. The Church forced Beth to choose between her priesthood and her unsullied love for another, for Nicole. Nicole had set aside her anger toward the Church. However, she still wished the day would come when the Church would recognize in shame the damage it had done when it wrongly claimed the Gospels condemned this child of its God. Whatever hope Nicole had held that Beth neared healing was shattered.

December 25, 2001

Beth awoke. Nicole slept soundly beside her. Beth kissed Nicole lightly on the cheek before getting out of bed. As coffee brewed she walked into the sun-drenched living room. Their evening had ended quietly. Nicole held Beth close as they walked home. Few words were exchanged. Beth was grateful for Nicole’s silence and her ability to console without words. Beth would not have known how to respond to even the gentlest query. Her heart was tender to the touch. Her fragility lingered.

Underneath the Christmas tree was a set of large packages. These were new to Beth. She bent down for a closer look. Beth read her name on an envelope that rested on top of the larger package. She debated whether to wait for Nicole to awaken. Her curiosity was far too great to delay. She went down to her knees and removed the card from its sleeve. The cover had a simple gold cross, within Nicole’s handwriting.

Beth—

To celebrate your Savior.

Love,

Nicki

Beth reread the card. She did not understand. She placed the card aside and rested her hands upon the first package, gliding them to each end. In unison she began the process of separating the paper at the edges. The paper unfolded easily. She lifted the paper over and back revealing a teakwood box. Beth took in a breath and held it. She had seen similar boxes before. She knew what they were meant to protect. Her hand went to the simple swing latch that held the box closed. She released it with her thumb. She then moved her hands to each side of the box and raised the cover. Her expectations were realized. Resting firmly in place within a cut felt cloth interior were a gold plated sterling silver chalice and matching ciborium. To the side lay a paten. Beth softly breathed Nicole’s name.

Beth’s eyes went to the chalice. Her hands hovered over it. She had not celebrated the Eucharist in six months. She raised the chalice from its resting place with her hands, one upon the cup, the other at the base. The chalice had an onyx node and was set off with semi-precious stones. The base had palm leaves marking the four directions. Engraved in a one-inch ribbon that wrapped the cup, four identical grape and wheat designs were aligned with the base palm leaves. Beth raised the chalice to eye level. She felt a profound sadness. She returned the chalice to its place then shifted her focus to the ciborium. Again, using both hands she lifted the ciborium. The cover had a raised emblem of the Holy Spirit. She lifted the cover from the cup. Within was a complete supply of Priest Hosts.

Beth returned the ciborium to its place and shifted her focus to the second, smaller package — certain of its contents. She carefully unwrapped the packing finding a matching teakwood box with similar latch. She opened the box to find a set of crystal cruets with a gold plated tray, beside the cruets — a full set of Mass linens. Beth’s fingers went to the finely woven cloth. It was delicate and soft to the touch. Underneath the cover, held by elastic straps, was a simple wooden cross.

Beth fell back upon her heels. She was stunned. The message behind Nicole’s words was clear to her. Nicole’s acknowledgement of Beth’s Christian faith had never been more unqualified. Nicole had reaffirmed God’s place in Beth’s heart. Beth bowed her head. She cried openly.

Nicole had been watching Beth from the front foyer. Beth was so intent on the gifts that Nicole remained undetected. Nicole was satisfied to watch Beth’s careful exploration of the two packages. The care and reverence Beth showed for the chalice and ciborium gave Nicole hope that she had not made a mistake. Beth’s tears the previous evening had left Nicole doubting whether her gesture would be welcomed. Nicole’s doubts spiked at the sight of Beth’s renewed tears. Nicole went to Beth, falling to her knees beside her. Knowing she was the cause of Beth’s weeping, Nicole hesitated offering any touch, fearful of rejection.

“Will you speak to me if I swear my intentions were good?” Nicole waited.

Beth’s tears subsided. Her gaze remained fixed upon the chalice.

Nicole looked from Beth to the chalice and back to Beth.

“You’re a scholar and a chaplain but you’re also a priest. I thought…” Nicole grasped at words to explain herself. “I know the Mass is supposed to be celebrated in a community…”

Beth turned and pressed her fingers to Nicole’s lips. “It’s all right. I’m all right.”

Nicole took Beth’s hand and placed a kiss upon its palm. “I’m sorry.”

“You have no reason to be.” Beth wondered if she could ever love Nicole more than she did at that very moment. She felt a sudden regret. “Nicki. I didn’t get you anything.”

“That’s what birthdays are for. I just didn’t want to wait until July.”

With a faint smile Beth reached out and touched Nicole’s Celtic pendant.

December 31, 2001

The Chamberlain Development two-story lobby was filled with guests. Jason enjoyed bringing friends, family, employees and business associates together to celebrate the New Year. The affair was casual with abundant food and drink. He scanned the room in appreciation. Having debated whether to continue his tradition in the aftermath of September 11th, he realized there was now a greater reason to set his sights to the future in hope. To surrender to despair would have given those who attacked the United States a victory against the nation’s spirit. The only change he took in this year’s preparations was to drape the American flag on one of the lobby walls. Looking once again to the flag, he wondered why it took an attack on the country for he, as well as many other citizens, to openly express their patriotism.

Nicole approached Trevor. “Beth has noticed your overenthusiastic photography.”

“I was being careful.”

“Not careful enough. She asked me to come over here and slap you upside the head.”

“I thought she was a priest.”

“That’s why I’m doing the slapping. Do you have what you need?

“No. You haven’t set the pose for me. Figure something out.”

“Follow me.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to introduce you and you are going to beg for one more photo to submit to your photography class professor.”

“Nicole, I’ve been a professional photographer for years. I teach photography.”

“We are lying.” Nicole emphasized. “Ly-ing. It goes with deception. Take the damn photo and if Andrea doesn’t like it you’re going to hear from me.”

“Threatening someone who is doing you a favor isn’t a good strategy.”

“Neither is getting Beth so distracted that she had to send me over to you.”

“I’m taking the photo to show my students how it can be done in a crowded situation.”

“Fine.”

Now that Nicole had bribed the photographer with one photo to set Beth free from his constant flash, Beth was able to enjoy the party. Connor was a charming companion. Beth had missed his smile. He had been the one consistent welcoming presence whenever she entered the Elysian Fields. Alex joined them as Nicole slipped away to mingle.

Connor had a sheepish smile on his face as Beth described the monumental effort it had taken she and Cindy to carry the Christmas tree into the apartment.

Connor laughed. “You must have really wanted that tree to go through all that even after Nicole’s speech.”

Beth was puzzled. “What speech?”

“The annual holocaust of trees speech.” Connor paused for Beth to affirm what he believed to be true. Beth’s blank look conveyed a different truth. “Nicki didn’t give you the speech about what a waste it was to have millions of trees cut for the sake of a ritual that had nothing to do with the religious origin of Christmas? That most people don’t realize that,” Connor switched to a false academic persona, “17th century German Christians appropriated the pagan fertility symbol of the tree and made it a symbol of rebirth appropriate to the celebration of the Christ’s birth.”

“No.”

“My God, Beth. Nicki must really love you.”

Beth wondered what Connor’s assessment would have been if she told him about the gifts Nicole had given her.

Nicole noted the time on a wall clock. Thirty minutes to midnight. She surveyed the room. Beth was being well entertained by Connor and Alex. Seeking a respite, Nicole wove through the crowd to the cloakroom. Retrieving her long black leather coat she wrapped it around her shoulders as she stepped out to the plaza. Others in attendance had not claimed the space, the cold a sufficient deterrent.

Lampposts styled in the fashion of gaslights bordered the marble plaza. Each shone its light leaving a limited darkness in between them. Nicole stood by the edge of the illumination of one, casting no discernable shadow.

The New Year, the artificial mark of a new beginning, Nicole wondered why the human need to draw a line and jump over it existed. For her New Year’s Eve was a rite of passage too generic to have meaning. Still, what would she leave behind were she to step across the timeline? The year 2001 had begun painfully. That near brutal kiss seized from Beth, accompanied by the confession of a love that was consuming her, a love she did not understand and was only now reconciling herself to. It was a year of leaving and returning, a year of destruction - the loss of the Elysian Fields; a year of grief - of loss that could not be reconstructed. She missed Carrie. She still privately mourned her friend and her business associates. Never would Nicole have divined the events of the past twelve months. She knew it was foolhardy to try to divine the next twelve. Change does not come by forced resolutions, at least not in the free world. There was no ritual beyond the ridiculous hats, the noisemakers and the alcohol. She had come to want none of it. She wanted dignity, silence and sobriety. She wanted ritual that touched the soul not numbed it. Letting go of Father Time was easy. She never knew him. Embracing the newborn child was unrealistic. The child would be fashioned by the inherited world not the other way around.

Nicole breathed in the frigid air and found it sweeter than what she had stepped away from. It might be harsh, but it was real, unconditioned. Nicole was feeling very much alone. It was not terrible — her aloneness. She had been without her aloneness for too long. In recent months she had been able to carve fragments of time for herself, but nothing extensive. How could she explain that the only sympathy she missed was her own? So much had happened in the previous twelve months. She awoke each day with a yearning for solitude that conflicted with her life, a life of recovery: recovery of her health, recovery of the Fields, recovery of the operations of business clients, and most importantly, recovery of Beth.

In a few turns of a minute hand, the year 2002 would begin. Jason called out to the crowd to fill their champagne glasses. Beth declined Connor’s offer to secure a glass for her. Beth’s eyes scanned the crowd looking for Nicole. Inquiries led her toward the plaza. She spied a tall, lone figure outside. Donning her coat, Beth sought Nicole’s company. Behind her Beth could hear the countdown. “Ten, nine, eight…” Nicole was unmoved by the commotion.

In Beth’s heart, she knew that Nicole was far away from her, gone to a place where no one was given entrance. Beth knew Nicole was in her realm, connected to life in her own unique way. Nicole required no church. She uttered no prayers. But where she stood was sacred ground, a holy place the nature of which Beth could only speculate. She could never feel it as Nicole felt it. “Six, five, four…” Beth understood the sense of loss Nicole hinted at in not being a part of her Christian faith. Nicole could never share Beth’s god or voice a prayer. Beth, in turn, felt the same separation from Nicole. There was a place within Nicole Beth would never know, though she longed to. She consoled herself with the knowledge that this truth was not only for Nicole. It was true of everyone. The profound difference was Beth’s love for Nicole. Her love for Nicole transcended human bounds. It reflected the divine. Because of this, Beth’s distance from Nicole left her reaching into a void in hope of seeing a glimmer of Nicole’s inimitable light, that light that illumed Nicole’s soul, that light that defined Nicole’s faith. “Three, two, one…” The voices surged along with the noisemakers, laughter and shouts.

Beth approached Nicole. Upon reaching her, Beth took Nicole’s hand. Nicole felt the familiar sensation. It lifted her up from her thoughts. She turned toward its source. Beth smiled. “Happy New Year, Nicki.”

Nicole’s attention was drawn to the sounds emanating from the party crowd. Awareness of time and place renewed. She returned her gaze to Beth. Nicole’s expression remained solemn. Beth feared Nicole was near tears. She did not know what circumstances had brought Nicole to the plaza, what had altered Nicole’s earlier casual demeanor to the contemplative. Beth knew what was required in order to claim Nicole. Beth raised her free hand to Nicole’s cheek. Nicole leaned down. Whether Beth was guiding Nicole or Nicole was guiding Beth was uncertain. The gradual motion toward one another was consummated with a kiss. The kiss was hesitant, cautious, fearful. It was tender. It was mutual. It was everything their first kiss was not. It did not mark an ending. It did not mark a beginning. The kiss marked a continuation. The kiss did not cease in the plaza. It did not cease after both had found union and release in their bed. Nor did it cease as they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

February 22, 2002

The Alderman’s welcoming speech had gone on for ten minutes. “Damn the politicians.” Miguel jumped up and down trying to keep warm.

“Watch your language.” Beth jokingly chastised.

“Beth! Chica, it’s good to see you.” Miguel gave Beth a bear hug.

“I’ve missed you, too.”

“Hey, is there more of that to go around.” Tony stepped up.

“Hi good looking.” Beth opened her arms to the handsome Italian.

“Give us a kiss.” Miguel stepped into Tony’s arms.

While Tony protested, Connor came and stood beside Beth. “We don’t see enough of you.”

Beth turned. “Connor.”

Connor gave Beth a gentle embrace. “How are you?”

“Good.”

“Where’s Nicki? Didn’t you come together?”

“Snow storm in New York.”

“You’ve got to be kidding. I thought she was going to fly back yesterday.”

“Something came up and she stayed an extra day.”

“It doesn’t seem fair. She worked so hard to rebuild and now she’s missing the Grand Opening.”

“She may still make it. She’s staying at LaGuardia hoping to get a flight.”

“Well, well, well. They let the riffraff out.” Kate joined the group.

Connor defended. “You shouldn’t speak about Beth that way.”

“I wasn’t.” Kate reproved. She turned to Beth. “Nicki called me. I’ve been appointed to keep an eye on you. I think she’s afraid this shabby crowd will offend your finer sensibilities.”

“Really.” Beth was amused.

“It could be the other way around. I’m not sure.” Kate winked.

Connor chimed in. “There you go again.”

“People.” Miguel alerted. “Jason is about to speak.”

Jason stood behind the portable lectern.

“Good evening. My name is Jason Chamberlain and I am the co-developer of the Chamberlain House-Elysian Fields project. Since it’s cold out here and warm inside, I’m going to keep this short. First, thank you for coming and joining us in this celebration. The neighborhood experienced a great loss with the Elysian Fields’ fire. It saddened. It could have disheartened the residents if recovery had not been done right. One woman was determined to make sure that the wound would be healed. She wasn’t willing to sell this property to just the highest bidder. She worked hard to ensure that the new building would serve the community. Unfortunately, Nicole Thera is snowbound in New York. We spoke on the phone just a little while ago. She wanted me to thank everyone who has been a part of the rebuilding, with a special nod to our architect, Laura Morales, and to our project manager, a young man I am proud to call my son, Alex Chamberlain. She also wanted me to thank the people of the neighborhood and the broader community for their support. Working with Nicole has been an extraordinary experience for me. Her vision has been bold. She demanded only the best. And that is what we have here. The best quality craftsmanship. The best management. We have brought you affordable housing, retail outlets that will fill existing gaps, and a return of the Elysian Fields. We plan to be here for a long time. We plan to contribute to this neighborhood. We will live and breathe this neighborhood’s tradition of embracing diversity. We will show courtesy, we will conduct business fairly, we will set the standard high and with our success - and I am certain we will be successful - we will become a magnet for more entrepreneurs to invest in this very special neighborhood so that it remains a viable home for this and generations to come.”

The gathering applauded.

Jason continued. “It is customary to cut a ribbon to mark our new beginning. Since Nicole isn’t here, I want to ask Elizabeth Kelly, Nicole’s partner in life, to join me.”

Beth had not been warned.

Miguel bent down to Beth’s ear. “I think he said your name.”

Connor placed his hand on Beth’s shoulder. “Make Nicki proud.”

Beth gave Connor her full regard. She then walked up to Jason. Jason wore a brilliant smile. He extended an oversize ceremonial scissor to Beth. “Let’s do this.”

Beth took the scissor with one hand and allowed Jason to position her for the photographers. Jason prompted, “Ready.” Beth nodded. “Well then, for Nicole.”

“For Nicki.”

They cut the ribbon. The crowd applauded. Photographs were taken. Jason hugged Beth and then turned to Katherine, Alex, and Laura who stood nearby, and warmly embraced them. The Musketeers and Kate congratulated Beth for a job well done. With a general feeling of joviality, everyone streamed into the building to enjoy food and drink, compliments of Chamberlain Development.

Beth entered The Pub.

“Beth.”

She turned toward the sound of the voice to see a well-dressed man approach her.

“Hello. My name is Brian Montgomery. My company is a client of Nicole’s.”

“Brian. Yes, Nicole has mentioned your name.” Beth offered the gentleman her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Nicole didn’t tell me you were going to be in Chicago.”

Brian took Beth’s hand in salutation. “She didn’t know. I wanted to surprise her. Can I buy you a drink?”

“I’ll take a cup of tea.”

“Tea?”

“Chamomile. Connor keeps a supply behind the bar.”

Brian was on this second pint of Ale. Beth suspected he might have had one or two more before they met. He was in high spirits. “I can’t tell you what it meant to have Nicole in Washington after September 11th. She was such a calming influence. Some of our employees were desperate to get out of the city, and here, Nicole drove all night to get in. Everyone has a calling.”

Beth smiled at the religious reference. It never surprised her how people tried to incorporate her vocation into a conversation.

“Do you know that once she got back on her feet after the fire she contacted every one of her clients and reemphasized, no, insisted that we update our business recovery plans. We were two-thirds into the process on September 11th. Nicole must have been inundated with requests. Lucky for us Nicole is loyal. For Carrie’s sake, she would have crawled to D.C. or New York, if it would have helped.”

“Carrie?” Beth’s interest was piqued by the unfamiliar name.

“Carrie Nolan.” Brian restated the name as if it should have been familiar to Beth.

“I’m sorry…”

“Nicole never mentioned Carrie?”

Beth mined her memory. “I think they had dinner together while Nicki was in Boston last summer.”

Brian looked away, gathering his thoughts. “They loved each other dearly. Carrie joked that if she were single, ten years younger and gay, she would have been Nicole’s lover. You see, Carrie was wonderfully insane. Quite a counterpart to Nicole’s impeccable professionalism.” Brian laughed as a memory came to mind. He leaned forward engaged in his own storytelling. “We brought in our out-of-town managers for Nicole’s presentation. Carrie was stationed in New York.”

Beth’s fear rose. “The World Trade Center.”

“Yes. In addition to our D.C. headquarters, we have offices in Boston, San Francisco, London, and Sydney. Carrie sabotaged Nicole’s presentation. I have no idea how she did it. Nicole took it in stride as we laughed at the bogus slides Carrie had loaded on Nicole’s computer. Then Carrie got up and demanded we proceed with the work without further delay. She argued that if Nicole Thera’s computer could be compromised, anything was possible. God love her, she was right. They both were.”

Brian took another generous swallow of his drink. “You know, I said you and Jason had changed Nicole. And, you have. But, I really think it was Carrie’s death and what happened to Nicole in Shenandoah that is making her rethink her career. Thank God it was only her medication that needed to be adjusted. I don’t care what Nicole said. I still say it was the stress of that week that took her down.”

Beth approached Kate. There were no formalities. “We need to talk.”

Kate could see something was wrong. She excused herself from the woman she was speaking to.

Beth waited only long enough to ensure their privacy. “What happened in Shenandoah?”

Kate took a hard look at Beth. She made a decision. “Last September during Nicki’s first weekend in D.C. she drove down to Shenandoah for the day. She hiked one of trails. She got sick. The symptoms were serious and she lost consciousness.”

“Did someone find her?”

“No. When she came back to, about three hours had passed. It was still daylight. She felt strong enough to walk, so she got to the trailhead and, damn her, she drove back to D.C.” Kate shook her head in disbelief. “At least she was smart enough to get herself to an emergency room. The D.C. doctors consulted with her doctors here. They determined that her medication needed to be adjusted. She was hospitalized for observation. She was discharged after a day. Beth. I can’t give you a reason why she kept this from you. I tried to convince her to talk to you but she refused.”

Beth explained. “We had a disagreement before she left D.C.” Beth gave Kate an appreciative smile. “Kate. You’ve broken confidentiality.”

Kate smirked. “Nicki can sue me.”

It was near 2:00 a.m. when Beth returned home to the empty apartment. She longed for Nicole. She went into the den and sat in Nicole’s chair. Across from her stood Nicole’s wall of books. Nicole had made substantial progress in renewing her library. Nicole duplicated the same, meticulous topical organization she had created in the loft. Beth’s eyes gravitated toward what was to her memory a new collection. A variety of books on the subject of Christian History lined two-thirds of a shelf. They complimented, not duplicated, her own collection. Beth smiled in appreciation. She continued to glance at the library. She identified a second new collection. The titles seared into her heart. Jung on Death and Immortality, The Last Dance, Death: The Final Stage of Growth, How We Die, Denial of the Soul, Let Me Die Before I Wake, A Noble Death, Death Be Not Proud, and Tuesdays with Morrie; the books shared a shelf with Nicole’s mysticism collection. The variety of the titles addressing death reflected Nicole’s humanist perspective: philosophy, psychology, theology, history, medicine, non-fiction, and fiction. Beth was drawn to them. She got to her feet and walked to the shelf. Her fingers traced the volume titles. She chose A Noble Death. The cover expanded the title: Suicide & Martyrdom Among Christians and Jews in Antiquity. She turned to the Contents page. The Death of Socrates and Its Legacy chapter caught her interest. She paged forward to and through the chapter catching the section headings. Plato, Aristotle, Cynics, Epicureans… Beth had found the source of the lesson on Greek perspectives of death that Nicole had given Jerry. Beth closed the book and held it close to her.

February 23, 2002-AM

It was near ten in the morning when Nicole arrived in the quiet apartment. Having spent the night at the airport, all she wanted was to be home. She placed her gear down. There was no sign of Beth. She made her way to the bedroom. Beth lay sleeping in bed. Nicole smiled to herself. The Grand Opening must have been a success. Nicole slipped out of her clothes and into bed, easing herself behind Beth’s body. Beth stirred.

“Hi.” Nicole grazed the back of her fingers against Beth’s cheek. “I didn’t expect to find you still asleep.”

Beth turned onto her back. She found it hard to believe that Nicole was with her. All that she learned the night before had left her to wonder why Nicole had chosen to stay with Beth after Beth’s rejection. Beth raised her fingertips and traced Nicole’s lips. Nicole had learned the fragility that lay behind Beth’s gesture. Nicole waited, giving Beth the time she obviously needed. Nicole noted a tear fall from Beth’s eye. The time for silence ceased. “What is it?”

“You came back to me.”

“Always.”

“Were you ever going to tell me about Carrie’s death and what happened to you at Shenandoah?”

Nicole was stunned. “How…”

“Brian was at the opening. He wanted to surprise you. We had a drink together. He had more than one. He talked about Carrie and what she meant to you. How proud she would have been to see the Fields rebuilt. He also mentioned Shenandoah. I got Kate to fill in what she knew.”

“I didn’t know Carrie was killed until after I left Chicago. I left on such a bad note and things didn’t get any easier between us as the week passed that when I got sick I just fell back on Kate for help. She is still named as my Medical P.O.A.”

Nicole waited for a chastisement. It did not come. Beth confessed. “I never understood how important your work could be.” She paused in thought. There was much she wanted to learn. “You lost others didn’t you?”

“Nine that I worked closely with. More that I knew in passing.”

“My God.” Beth looked away. Her heart ached.

Nicole took Beth’s hand. “When I came home, you seemed to want to keep everything about September 11th at arm’s length. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know if I should try to reach out to you. I was afraid that in needing you I was being selfish, so I decided to say nothing.”

Composing herself, Beth returned her gaze to Nicole. “Shenandoah?”

“Brian encouraged me to get away for part of the day. We had all been working around the clock. I drove down to Shenandoah. I have a couple favorite places in the park. I felt weak and started to feel myself drift away. When I regained consciousness I felt strong enough to get myself out. My medication had to be adjusted. I’m fine. I swear to you I’ve done everything I’ve been told to do to take care of myself.”

“Is there anything else you haven’t told me?”

Nicole knew there was a great deal that remained unsaid and this was her first true opportunity to tell Beth. “Yes.”

“Nicki?”

“Beth. I’m tired. Later today. I promise, I’ll answer every one of your questions. I was up most of the night. Right now I just want to get some rest.”

“Your word?”

Nicole gave Beth a gentle kiss. Beth welcomed it. Nicole requested. “Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Nicole shifted to the side taking Beth into a complete embrace with her body. Beth took a firm hold of Nicole’s hand. Nicole was not sure exactly what she would tell Beth upon awakening. For now she spoke her one truth. “I love you.”

“I love you, Nicki.”

February 23, 2002-PM

For Nicole the meaning of life had been clarified to the simplest form — love, relationship, connection. She had begun to live the change, understanding that contemporary culture did not support her choice. The values of Western society promoted speed, accumulation of material objects, not contemplation and simplicity. As she explored death, sudden death, death as a slow deterioration that allows an individual to document the journey, or death by choice in terms of martyrdom and suicide, she refined and deepened her commitment to life. Her source was not a god or a religion, though sacred writings were included in her exploration. As had always been her way she sought out knowledge from those who preceded her. Either in books or in conversation with respected individuals, she searched. She then looked within, integrating what she learned. She worked hard to ally heart, mind and soul, all for the purposed of living a meaningful life. As she lay alone in bed, she felt she had just begun to live a more aware life, a good life. By act and deed she had begun to share herself with Beth. She knew she could do more. She knew the importance of words. She knew the time had come for words.

Nicole entered the kitchen in search of a cup of tea. Beth was reading on the living room couch.

“Hi.”

“How did you sleep?”

“Good. Want some tea?”

“Please.”

Nicole had set the stage. They would talk. She brought two mugs of tea, handing one to Beth. Instead of lying beside Beth, Nicole shifted the living room table aside and sat on the floor, resting her back against the couch. Beth placed her hand on Nicole’s shoulder. Nicole sipped her tea, gathering her thoughts, trying to decide where to begin.

“There is a wonderful waterfall in Shenandoah that you can reach by a footpath. Walking up the path I started to get tired. My head ached. I thought it was the stress of the week. I thought I just needed some rest. When I reached the falls, I lay against a tree and watched the water crash down to the pond. I thought of you as the pond in my life, a body of water that could contain and absorb my most powerful and volatile forces. You’ve brought a calmness to my life that I just can’t explain.”

“The pain got worse. It was unbearable. I thought I was dying. I thought that it wasn’t unjust because I had you in my life, even if only for brief time. I didn’t feel cheated, but I hated leaving you behind knowing that I hadn’t given you everything I felt you deserved from me. I started to lose focus and I realized I needed to tell Jacob that we had two things in common. I could finally swear that I loved a woman. So, the first was that we both loved women. The second was that Jacob couldn’t imagine life without Liza, and I couldn’t imagine life without you.”

“When I came home I meant to tell you what happened. I also had a confession to make. But, I couldn’t. Not after you asked that we keep the world from coming between us.”

Nicole fell silent. Beth had now heard half of the whole. “Nicki. What did you mean to confess to me?”

Nicole placed her mug down on the living room table. She held her hands together as she spoke. “I thought I knew what is was to love you. Our first night together was wonderful, but it broke me open in a way I didn’t expect. It was far easier to love you from a safe distance. You know I’ve been with other women. I’ve known passion and I’ve known tenderness, but except for my first, I haven’t known what it is to trust. I’ve always been in control. I’ve always wanted to possess.”

“From the day we first spoke in St. Ann’s, when I returned your cross to you, I told myself that you were different. I didn’t want to possess and control you. I wanted your friendship. And then the day came when I wanted your love. I never wanted you to be anything less than you are. But Beth, when I made love to you I got frightened. Being with you scared me out of my wits. A part of me didn’t want you so close. I knew you could hurt me if I let you in. And at the same time, I wanted to let you in. I knew that I was always at risk of losing you. I didn’t have to worry about another woman. It was easy to dismiss that fear because I knew you would never have consented to be with me if you didn’t love me. I also knew how much you valued fidelity. I was afraid because I realized that you would always love God more. I couldn’t compete with your faith, though for a while I thought I could. I thought I had to if I was going to keep you. I felt God was in our bed that first night and every night since. I’ve felt God was always in between us. I felt God was a ready thief and I resented it.”

“Before I left D.C. I promised myself, and you, although you didn’t know it, that I would accept my fate. I would accept that in the grace of having you in my life I had to accept that I would always be second to God and that didn’t make your love for me any less of a gift. I came home ready to love you.”

Nicole paused and took a deep breath. “September 11th. I couldn’t help you deal with the aftermath. I wanted to, but you were so distant with me, and I didn’t know why. I tried to not ask for any more than you were able to give me, but I was frustrated. I felt every time I got close something created a breach between us and it was always rooted in the fact that our beliefs were so different.”

“I also had my own grief and you couldn’t see it. Carrie and I didn’t see each other that often, but when we did,” Nicole smile to herself, “time apart melted away and we picked up where we left off. Carrie was this beautiful, Irish, Roman Catholic mother of two wonderful, grown daughters, and wife to a quiet, generous man who relished Carrie’s spirit. But first she was her own woman. She had a great capacity for life. She was a great friend and I have to admit that a part of me wished she had raised me. What a life she would have given me…. My birthday has always been the most important day of the year for me. Not that it has always been the happiest. Carrie knew this. We would make an effort to meet for lunch or dinner. I could usually schedule an east coast client - D.C., Boston or New York. Carrie would find an excuse to fly to whatever city I was in.”

“Carrie’s spirit isn’t gone. It lives on in John’s love for her and in her two daughters. It lives on inside me. My birthday was so hard. I missed Carrie and I didn’t have a clue of what was happening with us. I didn’t expect anything more from you than a call or email. I was ready to accept the fact that I wasn’t ever going to find a love I could sustain. I surely didn’t deserve you. But, there you were.”

Nicole shifted and turned around to face Beth. “I once accused you of closing yourself to any real intimacy. I had to heed my own words. John sent me a gift Carrie had already chosen for me before September 11th. I received it by courier on my birthday right before I left the office for the day. It was the Fed Ex package I had in my hand when I met you in the hotel lobby. It was a book by Jean Shinoda Bolen. It wasn’t enough for Carrie to give me a gift. She gave it with a challenge. I’ve been trying to live up to the challenge ever since.”

“What was the challenge?”

“To look inside and name all the memories that drive me, and to decide if I’m going to allow the control they’ve had over me to continue. All my life I’ve been I afraid of being left alone. I’ve chosen to keep a part of myself from those I love, a preemptive strike to being abandoned. I don’t want to live that way any more. I don’t want to hide myself from you. I’m trying my best not to.”

“I’m sorry I made it so difficult.”

“Don’t. It wasn’t you. How could we have ever predicted all that has happened to us these past six months?

Beth took Nicole’s hand. “Tell me more about Carrie…”

February 27, 2002

Beth ran water to wash the dishes.

Nicole carried the dinner plates from the dining room. “You’ve been quiet.”

Beth did not look up from the running water. She had been staring at the stream, mesmerized. The two women had spent the evening comfortably together and yet Beth felt distant. She continued to question how Nicole could understand what she faced each and every day at the hospital. She struggled to find a starting point of sharing. “There was a death in the unit today.”

Nicole waited. Beth’s ongoing silence prompted further inquiry. “Was there something special about it?”

“Every death is special,” Beth whispered.

Nicole set the plates beside Beth. Nicole wondered what she had to do to assure Beth that she could confide in her, that she had finally learned that events in the hospital were not fodder for political or moral arguments. “Tell me about it.”

Beth kept her focus down and away from Nicole. Nicole decided to give Beth time. She made her way back to the dining room for the remaining dishes.

Upon hearing Nicole’s return, with her gaze firmly fixed upon the dishes, Beth began her story. “He… I met him on Tuesday. He was given a few days to live. His doctor moved him to palliative care from ICU. He was in his mid-60’s. By the look of him you wouldn’t have known…. He didn’t seem frail. He was sitting up. He held an oxygen mask in his hand. Every five or six breaths he would move it to his mouth and take a breath. I came to his bedside first. I passed his wife who sat in a chair not far from his bed. I asked him what I ask every patient. ‘Is there anything I can do for you?’ He spoke quietly. He asked me to pray for him. I then asked him what he wanted me to pray for. He said that I should pray that he could breathe a little easier. He looked me straight in the eye. There was something. I don’t know. I’m not sure why but I asked him if he knew he was dying. He said, ‘Yes.’ I now understood that he wanted to breathe easier until death came for him. We spoke a little more. Every few breaths he would pause and use the oxygen mask. He mentioned his wife and his kids. How good they had been to him. How he hadn’t always been good to them. When we finally prayed, I took his hand in mine. I made sure I mentioned his gratitude in the prayer. Usually I invite family members to join us in prayer. This time I didn’t. It was just us two. There wasn’t enough space in the room for anyone else. I felt that, and I didn’t even considering questioning it. He listened to the prayer and when I finished, he echoed my ‘Amen.’ He then squeezed my hand. I knew there wasn’t anything more for me to do for him. Afterwards, I went to his wife. She had been shedding silent tears. I knelt down to her and took her hand. She thanked me and asked if I would come back the next day. I promised I would. When I went back, the patient was alone. He was unconscious. The oxygen mask was fitted over his mouth. He was having trouble breathing. I stood by his bed. I wanted to pray for him but I didn’t have a prayer, so I silently said the Our Father. I sat in the same chair his wife had been sitting in and kept watch over him. I sat there for at least a half hour. During that time the nurse came in and checked his IV. She didn’t say a word. I’m glad she didn’t because I didn’t want any voices in the room. Today I went in. The room had been cleared. There was no sign of him. I was told he died in the middle of the night.”

Nicole went to Beth and took her into her arms. Beth held Nicole tightly, droplets of water falling from her hands to the floor, others absorbed by Nicole’s blouse.

“It’s okay to cry.”

Given permission, Beth released the sorrow the barren death had left in her. On this night, she would find her solace in Nicole’s arms.

March 2, 2002-A.M.

Nicole sat in the dining room enjoying a late breakfast. Beth had worked the night shift at the hospital. She had only now awakened from taking a nap. Beth wandered from the sunroom to the bedroom back to the living room and then to Nicole. “Nicki. Have you seen the book I was reading?”

Nicole feigned disinterest. “Where did you last have it?”

“The living room Thursday night. Remember, you and me on the couch?”

Nicole smiled. “We weren’t reading.”

Beth reflected the smile. “I gave it the college try until you interrupted me.”

“My fault?”

“You didn’t take it to the den did you?”

“Why would I?”

Beth started walking toward the den. “I’ll go look.”

Nicole called out after her. “Beth! Den mine. Sunroom yours.”

Beth called back. “I won’t disturb anything.”

With great satisfaction and a growing childlike sense of anticipation, Nicole raised her coffee cup to her lips.

The den was dark except for two new track lights installed on the ceiling illuminating the wall behind Nicole’s desk. On that wall hung a portrait. It was an original pencil and charcoal drawing of Nicole standing behind Beth, holding her in an embrace. The portrait captured them waist high. Nicole was the secondary subject. Beth’s figure dominated the portrait. The gaze in Nicole’s eyes enhanced the focus upon Beth. Nicole’s gaze was only for Beth. Beth leaned against Nicole; her head slightly tilted back, a gentle smile on her face.

Beth entered the dining room. Nicole, looking down, scanned the Tribune’s entertainment section. “Find the book?”

Beth’s voice was subdued. “Didn’t look.”

Without raising her eyes, Nicole swept aside the newspaper sections that lay on the table to reveal the volume. “Then, this must be it.”

“The portrait?”

Nicole finally looked up. “You going to exercise a veto?”

“No.”

“Good.” Nicole went back to reading the paper.

Beth maintained her place for a few heartbeats before she turned away, making her way once again to the den. Nicole gave Beth some time prior to joining her. Beth stood inside the den threshold. Nicole came behind her, taking Beth in an embrace much like the one the portrait captured.

“How was it done?”

“Remember New Year’s Eve when Trevor was taking all those pictures? Now you know why.”

“Trevor did this?”

“No.” Nicole pointed to the signature. “Andrea Trovasky. I commissioned Andrea. She worked from the photos and a couple of sittings.”

Beth leaned back. “I wouldn’t be able to talk you into hanging it in the bedroom?”

Nicole was gentle. “No. But you have visiting rights.”

Beth turned around to face Nicole. “Who are you?”

Nicole took Beth’s hand and placed it against her own heart. “You know me, Beth. I’m the woman that loves you.”

March 2, 2002-PM

Beth lay draped across Nicole’s body. “Why don’t you believe in our souls?”

Although it was not unusual for them to talk of the ethereal or the divine after making love, Nicole still found herself surprised by the question. “I believe in our souls.”

“Not that they will live on.”

“No one has ever given me an argument I could accept.”

“Would you be open to a 4th century woman thinker?”

“Try me.”

“Macrina the Younger. She was the sister of Basil the Great and Gregory of Nyssa. Gregory wrote about a conversation he had with Macrina. I won’t try to put it in her words. I remember when I read the account thinking that she was way ahead of her time. She used the atomic theory.”

“Which came from Democritus, a Greek.”

Beth playfully slapped Nicole. “Yes.”

Nicole took possession of Beth’s hand as a safety precaution.

“Her argument made me think of DNA.”

“I’m intrigued.”

Beth looked up to affirm Nicole’s sincerity. “What if our souls were made up of atoms that we couldn’t detect? What if the substance of our souls could permeate our bodies and fuse with our material without losing its identity? And when we die, what if the soul releases itself from the material and reforms as a separate entity, each division holding sufficient knowledge of the whole to recreate it? She used the analogy of mixing paint and then being able to separate the tints to their original form.”

“Where does it go, the soul?”

“To God.”

“If I were a Buddhist I would say moksha had taken place.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“The soul - the atman - unifies with the absolute - Brahman. The Buddhist believes that can only happen if one lives the correct way of life - dharma. Because we don’t get it right the first time, or second time, or however many times are necessary, the soul comes back to continue to process until it reaches nirvana. Macrina doesn’t seem to think coming back is necessary.

“We go to God without losing our identity.”

“I would think that our souls must be able to code the changes they experience in their own nature. Does she believe the soul can change?

“She said that the soul will go back to the original divine nature. Corrupted souls are first healed by experiencing the purifying force of fire.”

“Universal salvation after her own version of purgatory. She’s more generous than a lot of Christian theologians. The concept would make sense to the Buddhist if the soul did record its changes. If the soul’s DNA code was altered by the material experience and it took that knowledge with it.”

“You keep saying what you think a Buddhist would think. You’re not a Buddhist. What do you think?”

“I think I might want to read what Gregory wrote.”

“There is so much we don’t know. There is so much we haven’t thought to dream. You could open yourself up to some wonderful possibilities if you only let yourself…”

“Beth. There are so many possibilities for our souls. The greatest thinkers have tried to understand the mysteries. A theory…a belief may touch you in a way no other does and for you it becomes the truth. I haven’t the faith or sheer will to take on any one belief.”

Beth raised herself up to better meet Nicole’s eyes. “But our souls, Nicki. Us.”

Nicole felt Beth’s intensity. It demanded more than Nicole could give and it broke her heart to disappoint Beth. “An eternity with you would be bliss. It isn’t that I wouldn’t want it if I knew I could have it. It’s just that I don’t know anything. I really don’t know a damn thing.”

Beth struggled to reconcile the Nicole she knew with the Nicole presented before her. Nicole never ceased searching. She could articulate the beliefs and myths of cultures throughout the ages and yet Nicole professed to know nothing. Nicole juxtaposed to so many who truly knew little and yet were certain in their belief; those who held for dear life to their doctrine and dogma because any assertion contrary threatened to crumble their precarious foundation. Beth understood Nicole’s hunger for ideas. She shared that hunger, but there was a philosophical difference in their intention. For Beth, her studies strengthened her faith. To have her faith etched in the hearts and minds of women and men for two millennia brought her into the center of a community of faith. Though her faith was primarily between her and her God, she was not alone as a Christian. Nicole never stood in community. Christine’s comment of the loneliness of Nicole’s position - the comment that bristled Beth’s ire - may have very well have done so because the insight had been one that Beth preferred not to acknowledge. It was one Beth did not want others to conclude. Beth tried to hold at arm’s length the pity that it drew from her. She did not want pity anywhere in her relationship with Nicole. Nicole was far too strong to be pitied and yet, pity came forth of its own accord. Her Nicole was a woman who knew no God, believed in no future, remained isolated in her conviction. Beth did not want to see Nicole’s life through that stark looking glass. If she could, she would break it and take a shard of glass in her hand and cut Nicole across the heart and prove to her that she bled with the passion of life and could never be sustained by the ice cold waters of reason. Beth would have raised the same shard of glass to Nicole’s eyes and pointed to the fragments that remained on the floor to prove to Nicole that the image they reflect, in part or whole, was the same. That she was but one shard, Beth another, and the whole was God’s universe. They were united even in their separate fragments by the omnipotent force that created them and gave them the capacity to reflect within themselves the divine. Nicole’s beloved divine. Beth would do this act of violence to bring Nicole to her if she could, but she could not. As much as she tried, Nicole persevered. Nicole who knew nothing remained beyond Beth’s reach. Beth knew, and she knew this without malice, nor denigration, that the ignorant were far easier to convert to faith by play to superstition and the syncretism of existing local myths than those who have seen the world in its diversity. Those, who like Nicole, knew nothing in the enormity of their knowledge.

Beth returned to Nicole. “You never will know for certain.”

“Maybe when I die.” Nicole offered Beth a fragile smile.

Beth again lay to rest upon Nicole. Nicole wrapped her arms around Beth. “I’m sorry.”

March 12, 2002

Nicole entered the living room dressed in black slacks, a black turtleneck sweater and a black dress blazer of mid-thigh length.

“Nicki. You look…”

Nicole smiled. She took Beth’s hand to lead her to the door. “Time to go.” Beth tugged in resistance.

“A kiss.”

Nicole was happy to comply. Beth surrendered to Nicole’s embrace.

Nicole stepped back. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“We have six o’clock reservations.”

“Where is this restaurant?”

“Downtown. Oh, I almost forgot. Pam called. She wants you to pick up some books at her church and bring them to the hospital in the morning. They should be at the church office.”

“It can wait. I’ll go in the morning.”

“We have time. Come on. I’m still trying to get her to like me.”

“She likes you. What makes you think she doesn’t?”

“Don’t know. Just a feeling.”

Nicole drove the Jeep to the front of the church, parking in a space reserved by two yellow cones.

Beth chided. “Breaking the law in front of a church. Not good, Nicki.”

“I’ll go in with you.”

Pam walked out of the main church entrance and remained standing on the top of the stairs. She was dressed in full vestment. “Hello, you two.”

Beth had failed to ascertain the discrepancy between Nicole’s instructions and Pam’s presence. “What’s the occasion?”

“A friend asked me to perform a special ceremony.” Pam turned to Nicole. Beth followed Pam’s gaze. Nicole stood aside in silence.

“Nicki?”

Nicole looked shyly to Beth. “I thought you would want a blessing of our joining.”

Beth was dumbfounded. She searched Nicole’s eyes for the joke, but all she found was pure sincerity. That she hoped one day to find acceptance for her love of Nicole in the Church was an unspoken dream. The reality of the Episcopalian Church’s position, coupled with Nicole’s beliefs, were overwhelming obstacles Beth never thought could be surmounted. She stood in front of the church. It was not the Episcopalian Church. It was the United Church of Christ. She stood in front of a church of Christ. The Church welcomed her. A church of Christ welcomed her and her love for another woman. Not only welcomed, but was ready to bless her love before God. And to her astonishment, standing in front of the church was Nicole, ready to share the blessing with her. All manner of Beth’s self-distancing was devastated. Beth felt the love of God. She was awed. She was humbled. She did not understand why God had bestowed such grace upon her. Beth burst into tears. Nicole took Beth into her arms. For once, in regards to Beth’s faith, Nicole was certain she did right.

Pam watched the couple with great joy. She wondered if Nicole had a complete understanding of the gift she was giving Beth. She spoke to the tearful young woman as she walked down the steps of the church. “I hope you’re not wearing any mascara. I’ve had some brides end up looking like a raccoon.”

Beth could not help but laugh. Pam offered Beth a few tissues.

Beth took them gratefully. “Thank you.”

“Ministers have to be prepared. Now, are you two ready?”

Led by Pam, Beth and Nicole walked hand in hand through the church. They knelt before the altar as Pam proceeded with the blessing.

“Beth and Nicole, in presenting yourselves here today, you are performing an act of faith in each other-a faith which should grow and mature and endure. If you would have your love set on such faith, not just at this moment, but in all the days ahead, then ever cherish the hopes and dreams you now hold. Resolve that love will surmount the commonplace and mundane in life. Stand fast in hope and confidence, believing in yourselves and believing in each other. In this spirit you can create a union, which will radiate to one another and give new hope and strength to all who watch your quest with interest. Beth and Nicole, will you exchange symbols of your love and commitment to one another?”

Nicole reached into her pocket and opened a black felt jewelry box that held two gold bands. She took the rings into one hand as she returned the box into her pocket with the other. Nicole raised the rings up, with open palm, to Pam. “Yes.”

Pam took the rings and placed them in the palm of her left hand. With her right hand she made the sign of the cross over the rings. “Ever-loving God, who having loved us, love us still. In this hour, bless these rings, symbols of the bond confessed by your children, in your sight. May the love of Jesus flow through these rings as a current of compassion, devotion, healing and life. In the name of Jesus Christ, your son, our Lord. Amen.”

Pam handed one ring to each of the two women. “Nicole.”

Nicole took Beth’s hand and gently placed the ring upon her finger.

“Elizabeth Ann Kelly…

I live but in the present—where art thou?

Hast thou a home in some past, future year?

I call to thee from every leafy bough,

But thou art far away and canst not hear.

Each flower lifts up its red or yellow head,

And nods to thee as thou art passing by:

Hurry not on, but stay thine anxious tread,

And thou shalt live with me, for there am I.

The stream that murmurs by thee, —heed its voice,

Nor stop thine ear; ‘tis I that bid it flow;

And thou with its glad waters shalt rejoice,

And of the life I live within them know.

And hill, and grove, and flowers, and running stream,

When thou dost live with them shall look more fair;

And thou awake as from a cheating dream,

The life today with me and mine to share.”

“Beth, my heart is yours. I pledge my life to you. Till death do we part.”

Beth held Nicole’s hand. She had, prior to Nicole’s acrid denial of marriage and union ceremonies, allowed herself to wonder what words she would say to Nicole were their union to be blessed. To speak before God, Beth wanted words found in the Bible. She wanted words that would celebrate their love, words that would fall easily into Nicole’s heart. Beth recited, with only a minor variation, from the Song of Solomon, as she placed the ring on Nicole’s finger.

“Nicole Isabel Thera…

I am my beloved’s,

and her desire is for me.

Come, my beloved,

let us go forth into the fields,

and lodge in the villages;

let us go out early to the vineyards,

and see whether the vines have

budded,

whether the grape blossoms have

opened

and the pomegranates are in

bloom.

There I will give you my love.

The mandrakes give forth fragrance,

and over our doors are all choice

fruits,

New as well as old

which I have laid up for you,…

If I met you outside, I would kiss

you,

and none would despise me.

I would lead you and bring you

into the house of my mother,

and into the chamber of her that

conceived me.

I would give you spiced wine to

drink,

the juice of my pomegranates.

O that your left hand were under

my head,

and that your right hand embraced

me!”

“Nicki. I love you. Death will never part us.”

Nicole smiled. She reached to Beth’s cheek and with her thumb captured a tear falling from the corner of Beth’s eye.

Pam watched the delicate physical exchange between the two women. Pam did not know Nicole well. She had her doubts whether Beth could ever find happiness in a relationship with the proud, self-professed heathen. As Pam stood witness she could not deny the growing positive impression Nicole was making upon her.

The two women, hands held, turned to the minister.

“May the Lord bless you and keep you:

May the Lord make a light shine upon you, and be gracious to you; and

May the Lord grant you wisdom, and give you peace. Amen.”

Beth echoed. “Amen.”

Pam instructed. “You may kiss.”

Beth reached up, cupping Nicole’s cheek with her hand. “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

The two women kissed. It was a fragile kiss, light and tender. Upon separation, Beth rested against Nicole’s shoulder. Nicole held Beth, looking over to Pam. The two women exchanged a knowing understanding of Beth’s need for a gentle transition.

It was Pam who spoke first. “So, what are your plans for the evening?”

Beth leaned back. Her eyes did not stray from Nicole’s. “Nicki is taking me out to dinner.”

“Well, actually we don’t have dinner reservations.”

“We don’t?”

“I was hoping for pizza in front of the fireplace.”

March 20, 2002

Beth was carefully chopping green peppers.

Nicole, standing at the stove, looked over her shoulder. “Don’t make them too small.”

“I don’t believe we are doing this.”

“Have faith.”

“Oh, no you don’t.” Beth exchanged a smile with Nicole. She peered over. “What spices do you use?”

“The usual. Oregano, rosemary, thyme, pepper, cumin…”

“Cumin? Since when do you use cumin for Italian?”

“Don’t be so narrow-minded. I’m the one who taught you to use it in black beans.”

“Right. Cuban, not Italian.”

“How are those peppers?”

“Done with the green. Working on the red.”

Nicole removed a wok out of the cupboard.”

Beth could not restrain herself. “Hold it.”

“What?”

“A wok? You’re going to use a wok?”

“You never used a wok?”

“To make Chinese, not spaghetti sauce.”

“You agreed that I would chef tonight. How are you doing with the mushrooms?”

“I’m still on the peppers.”

“Maybe you should focus on the peppers and not the wok.”

Beth returned to her work, swallowing a smile, replacing it with a false sternness.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“As long as it’s not about the peppers.”

“I was reading the Catechism in your Book of Common Prayer.”

Beth placed her knife down and turned around, leaning against the counter. “The Catechism?”

“It’s a short read, nothing to the Catholic Catechism.”

“I know.”

“I’m sure I read it as a kid. I didn’t remember it and I was curious.”

“Only you.” Beth shook her head in loving disbelief of her partner.

“Got ta love me, don’t ya!” Nicole turned to Beth with a wide grin.

Beth playfully warned. “Don’t go there.”

“No, wouldn’t want to do that.” Nicole shifted to a more tempered tone. “Seriously.”

“Yes.”

“Reading it as an adult…Beth, I’m probably going to inadvertently say something that might offend you so I’m going to apologize now before I get into this.”

“Go ahead.”

“If I take the Catechism symbolically, and that’s the only way I can, it can be quite attractive. Putting what I read into my terms…If God is the source of creation and we are a part of it. If sin is possible because of our imperfection, if sin is distorting our relationship to the source and if prayer is responding to the source by thought and by deed with or without word. These beliefs don’t differ from my own. If I consider the Trinity as a model where God is the creator beyond all understanding, the Son the ideal we should strive to become and the Holy Spirit the revelation of the divine within each one of us…I can understand that too. And finally, if the sacraments are ritual to make manifest the beliefs of the community, to help cut through the noise in the world and to express a common bond. Well, that has been a part of the human condition from the beginning of time. Why Beth? Why the Episcopal Church. Why not the Lutheran - in spite of Jerry, or the Baptist or Methodist or the United Church of Christ? They must be more similar than dissimilar. They all originated from the Reformation’s questioning of the Catholic Church. Isn’t it just more an issue of form than content?”

“You can’t ignore tradition.”

“But that was Luther’s argument against the Catholic Church. If I read my history right, Luther argued that the authority of Christianity was to be found in the Scriptures, not tradition. Wasn’t the Word at the heart of the Reformation? Didn’t Zwingli look to church documents only through the first four centuries of the Common Era? Wasn’t the truth, for him, to be found in primitive Christianity?”

“You have been reading.” Beth commented with appreciation.

“I’m trying to understand.”

“Why now?”

“It hasn’t been just now.”

Beth granted Nicole’s point. “Where are your Greeks?”

“Still with me, strong as ever. Need I remind you of Plato and Aristotle’s impact on the development of early Christian theology?”

“No, it’s better if you don’t,” Beth said in jest.

“Beth, sometimes I feel we’re on opposite sides of the moon, not because it’s where we belong but because tradition has led us to believe it is.”

“Nicki. The Christian faith may all stand on the same side of the moon, but in some fundamental ways you and I do not. I’ve accepted that.”

“There are parallels.”

“You don’t believe in God,” Beth asserted strongly.

Nicole response was subdued. “Not your God. No, I don’t.”

“To you Jesus is a wise teacher, not the Christ. To you life ends with death. I believe in the soul everlasting.”

Nicole realized that she had failed to reach Beth. She wanted nothing more than to extricate her self from the conversation. “And if that wasn’t bad enough, I use a wok to make spaghetti sauce.”

“Exactly.” Beth smiled.

“You better get back to those peppers.” Nicole turned around, back toward the stove.

She heard Beth quip. “You know, I love you in spite of your heathen ways.”

Nicole took a deep breath. Why was her disappointment so great?

March 25, 2002

Nicole sat outside of the Elysian Fields. The mild winter was slipping into an equally mild spring. Nicole had delegated more responsibility to the Musketeers, lessening the need to come to the Fields. Laura designed a sun-drenched office for her on the 3rd floor. It was about a third the size of the original loft with a private stairway to the Fields complex. It had an open-plan adjoining apartment that was currently leased with a 60-day notice provision. Nicole and Jason agreed that Nicole always had first right to that specific apartment. Combined with her office, it easily duplicated the loft in size. The design was finalized when she and Beth were having difficulties. Nicole decided then that if Hyde Park was not her future she would return to the Fields, recreating her life as best she could. It may have been for this reason, more than any other, that Nicole preferred working in her den in the Hyde Park apartment. Whenever she looked over to the adjoining door from office to apartment, she was reminded of her doubt and fear of losing Beth. The feeling was bittersweet because, at the same time, she knew that she and Beth were living a life of promise. They were moving closer not farther away from one another.

Nicole watched Jacob walk across the street, his steps deliberately taken. She remembered the countless times he had taken to the street. In years past he moved with far more ease. Her Jacob was getting older. Still, he came to her to sit quietly and watch the neighborhood as well as to spar with words, which ever the spirit moved them to do at the time. Jacob sat down on one of the three new benches installed outside of the Fields. He slowly took out his pipe and tobacco. Nicole bit her tongue. She was grateful to be able to return to the common practice of sharing an afternoon respite with the elder.

“So, you come and sit. Don’t you know it’s cold outside? Too cold for an old man like me.”

Nicole enjoyed the man. “I have confidence in Liza. She usually bundles you up pretty well.”

“She has enough to worry about.”

“You didn’t have to come.”

“How could I not? I sit in my office and watch you. It’s as if you were calling me over. What am I to do?”

Nicole put her hand over Jacob’s arm. “Thank you for coming. There is something I want to tell you.”

“Good or bad.”

“Good. Very good I think.”

“I could use some good news. What do you have to tell me?”

“I love Beth.”

“Tell me something I do not know.”

“We exchanged rings.” Nicole removed her glove to show him.

Jacob looked over. He was unimpressed. This surprised Nicole. She explained further. “Beth and I had a blessing of our union.”

“A blessing?”

“I arranged for Reverend Lathrop, Pam, Beth’s CPE Supervisor, to perform a small ceremony at the church she is associated with.

“You did this in a church?”

“Yes. It was just the three of us, otherwise you and Liza would have been invited.”

“I don’t care about not being invited,” Jacob snapped.

This hurt Nicole. “Jacob, it was important to Beth to have the blessing. You were the one who told me to be more aware of her needs. I tried to give her…”

Jacob interrupted. “Hopefully, neither one of you will regret your decision.” He dug his pipe into his tobacco case.

Nicole pulled her body away from the man, shifting sideways to better see him. “Why are you saying this?”

“You will hurt her.”

“You say that as if it’s inevitable.”

“It is. You have the power to destroy her.”

“For the love of ….”

“For the love of what, Nicole? God? There is no such love in your heart.”

“What’s wrong? What is going on here?”

“Nothing. I just prayed you wouldn’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“You have bound yourself to Beth in such a way that she will not be able to escape the harm you do.”

“Jacob, I admit I have hurt her in the past, but not out of willful intent. I’ve had to learn how to love her. You were right about that. I admit it. But you can’t condemn me for my past mistakes.”

“So, she swore herself to you in the sight of God. Who did you swear to?”

“Beth. My oath is to Beth.”

“Easily broken.”

Nicole responded in a measured voice. “No, it is not. Until Beth, I have never given my word to any woman.”

“You are as blind as a newborn infant. You think you see the world, but all you see is the mist. The truth lies outside your ability to see.”

“Beth is happy.”

“Is she? That isn’t what you have told me.”

“She is happy with me. I can’t give her back the Church. I’m not responsible for what she’s going through. That struggle is beyond me.”

“You are wrong!” Jacob shouted. He shook with anger. “One can be loved by you and still be hurt by you. Have you no idea of how deeply your skepticism has challenged my faith?”

Nicole realized they were not talking about Beth. “Jacob.”

“I have never shared this. Not even with Liza. I love you, child, as if you were my own daughter. I have watched you blossom with each passing year. From your confusion has come clarity, but it is not the clarity I wished for you. You took a path away from me and I was left to question how this could be. You are so honest and sincere and I have no room to belittle you in my anger.”

“Anger?”

“Yes. I have left you angry more times than I can count, because my God is trivialized in your eyes. Your beautiful, intelligent, compassionate eyes have no reverence for my beliefs. As they have no reverence for Beth’s.” Jacob sadly placed his hand on Nicole’s leg. “Oh, you respect our faith and the moral and spiritual lessons you can gleam from them, but much, if not almost all, is left on the threshing room floor as chaff. My nourishment is lifted up by the wind and carried away. You do not need my nourishment or Beth’s. You, Nicole, do not need us to hold to your beliefs, but I need you, flesh and blood, heart and mind…I need you to prove to myself that there is goodness and from that goodness God’s benevolence. When I look to you child I see the greatest irony. You, who give me faith in God, deny God. How must Beth feel? With her heart broken as it is, I could see Beth lose God in the darkness. With you Nicole, I can see neither the impenetrable darkness, nor the brilliant light call you to God. Again, I ask you, how must Beth feel?” Jacob paused and took a breath. The man’s stamina was unable to bear the weight pressing down against him. “You are an accursed presence. You are the greatest challenge to God Beth could have ever invited into her life.”

Nicole was stunned by Jacob’s assessment. It redefined her relationship to him, as well as to Beth. “I’ve never intended to hurt you.”

“Of course not. That is why you are so dangerous. You are not like the 18th century Rationalist who attacked religious beliefs, offending Jews and Christians alike. I could then allow my self-righteous anger to rise up against you, and discard your opinions. You offer an insidious, measured respect.”

“Jacob.” Nicole protested. She stood up. “Don’t you know there was a time that I wanted to believe, that I wanted to go to synagogue with you or Mass with my mother, not just as a guest but as someone who belonged in the faith? Don’t you think I’ve wanted you to understand what I believe, and how I feel, so you could put it on an even plane with your own faith? Don’t you think it’s hard for me to be alone? But, that is who I am. I’ve accepted it.”

“We are all alone.”

“No you’re not. You told me yourself, Liza shares your faith. You are a Jew. You have a history, a community and God.” Nicole tried to harness her disappointment. “Damn it. I didn’t expect this from you. All this time I thought you approved of Beth being in my life. I feel as if I don’t know you. I don’t know us.”

“I have always told you what I believe you could bear.”

Nicole’s grief turned to anger. “Is there anything else you’ve held back for my own good?”

Jacob shook his head sadly. “No. I am just sorry I didn’t see the truth sooner. I should have spoken sooner. I failed in my responsibility to God to stop you.”

Nicole stepped back as if she had been slapped. She did not know how to reconcile herself to this man who she loved completely. He sat on the bench exposed. He was frail and vulnerable. She would do him no more harm. “I’m sorry, Jacob. I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you. I’m sorry I’ve hurt you. I will never hurt you again.”

Jacob gave no response. Nicole would have fallen on her knees and pleaded with him to show her a way back to him if she felt it would have helped. But, to her dismay, she believed there was a grain of truth in his condemnation of her. She could not defend herself with complete confidence in her innocence. She walked away leaving the man alone.

Jacob watched Nicole from the corner of his eye. He could not give her his full regard. It was only as she walked back into the Elysian Fields that he raised his head. He then looked over, across the street to his office. He had not the strength to return to Liza.

March 27, 2002

Kate had been giving Nicole a humorous blow-by-blow account of her latest first date. “Okay, that’s it!”

“What?” Nicole raised her eyes from her salad.

“You’re not listening to me.”

“Oh yes I am. You were admiring the color of her eyes and the way she smiled.”

“I hate you.”

“Join the club.”

Kate paused in concern. “How are you and Beth?”

“Good.” Nicole saw Kate’s doubt. “Really.”

“Then who hates you?”

“Not hate.” Nicole threw her fork down on the plate and leaned back. “It’s Jacob.”

“What? He adores you.”

“He said I’m the greatest challenge to Beth’s faith.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Jacob said it’s not anything I’ve said or done. It’s the fact that I can live without a god. Before I left for Boston in October, Beth said some of the same things.”

“That was a while ago. You told me she admitted her anger had more to do with her own feelings than anything you may have done.”

“How can she love me if every time she looks at me…if I’m antithetical to all she values?”

“Now, I’m getting angry. You are one of the most moral persons I know.”

“Yeah, well you’re a lawyer.”

“Go to hell.”

“Don’t believe in it so you’ll have to show me the way.”

Kate picked up her napkin and folded it as she spoke. “Nicki, why is it enough for you?”

“What?” Nicole knew her friend’s nervous habit of engaging a napkin when she was uncomfortable.

“Life. A beginning and an end. Why do we have the capacity to imagine more if we can’t have it?”

“Why can’t we hold all our dreams in our hands?”

Kate was sincere. “I can understand why it might be hard for Beth to come to you.” Kate opened and then began to refold her napkin. “You are so damned honest. It’s disarming.”

“I was reading Jung. One thing that he wrote that I could agree with was that the goal of life is death and that to be afraid of death is to stop living. I knew that before I read it. When I read it I felt the truth of it. I want my life to end with a noble death. When I collapsed in Shenandoah, I accepted my death. I was ready to let go. I did let go. Letting go, Kate, meant letting go of you, and Jacob, and Beth. I’m grateful for my life. There has been a great deal of pain and confusion, but I’ve also had love: my mother’s love, the love of my friends and Beth’s love. What more can anyone ask for? I have to admit the closer I get to Beth, the harder it is to accept the simplicity of death. There have been moments between us that leave me dumb in awe. I can’t put words to it. I wish with all my heart that I will never lose the possibility of feeling so intimately bound to another human being, but that wish isn’t enough to make me put a god into the scenario so I can tell myself that death really isn’t death. Kate, if my love for Beth doesn’t make me believe in her kind of god, nothing will. I think Beth understands that and I think it hurts her.”

“Because she wants you to know what she knows?”

“I’m incapable of knowing what she knows. Jacob was right about that.”

“What else did Jacob say?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I think it does.”

“He said he wished he had spoken to me sooner. He said he wished he had been able to stop our union ceremony.”

“Damn!” Kate tried to console. “He didn’t mean it.”

“He did. Believe me.”

“I’m sorry. What are you going to do?”

“What can I do? I’ve made my vow to Beth and nothing is going to change that. Jacob has to accept me for who I am. I’ll give him as much time as he needs to reconsider.”

“What did Beth say?”

“I haven’t told her.”

Kate dropped her head on the table in mocking disgust. She then raised it and peered at Nicole. “Haven’t we been through this before?”

“Do you really think this is the best time to tell Beth that one of the most important people in my life disapproves of our blessing? Don’t you think she is having a hard enough time with God as it is?”

“You can’t keep this from her for very long.”

“I know.”

March 29, 2002-Good Friday

Beth knocked on the den door, which stood ajar, and opened it further. Nicole looked up from her book. “Nicki. I need to ask you a favor.”

“Anything.”

“Don’t ask me to explain, but can you stay in the den for the next hour?”

Nicole was perplexed by Beth’s request. She chose to honor it. “All right.”

“Thanks.” Beth closed the door.

Beth dimmed the dining room light. She cleared the table of all the chairs. She covered the table with an altar linen. She carefully continued the process of making ready for the celebration of the Divine Liturgy. She stepped back from the altar and glanced over to the closed den door. Beth then went to the living room to change her dress.

Beth approached the altar and bowed her head, “Be with me, dear Lord.” She stood in silence seeking the peace of God. She raised her head and opened her eyes. She stepped to the altar and began the Mass. “Blessed be our God. For ever and ever. Amen….”

She read the Old Testament lesson: Isaiah 52:13-53:12. Followed by Psalm 22:1-11.

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

and are so far from my cry

and from the words of my distress?

O my God, I cry in the daytime, but you do not answer;

by night as well, but I find no rest.

Yet you are the Holy One,

enthroned upon the praises of Israel.

Our forefathers put their trust in you;

they trusted, and you delivered them.

They cried out to you and were delivered;

they trusted in you and were not put to shame.

But as for me, I am a worm and no man,

scorned by all and despised by the people.

All who see me laugh me to scorn;

they curl their lips and wag their heads, saying,

‘He trusted in the Lord; let him deliver him;

let him rescue him, if he delights in him.’

Yet you are he who took me out of the womb,

and kept me safe upon my mother’s breast.

I have been entrusted to you ever since I was born;

you were my God when I was still in my

mother’s womb.

Be not far from me, for trouble is near,

and there is none to help.

She then read the Epistle: Hebrews 10: 1-25. She announced the Gospel. “The Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ according to John.” She then read John 19:1-37. She continued with the Solemn Collects. Beth stepped to the living room. She lit two candles and brought them forth and placed one on each side of the altar. She stepped away a second time and entered again, holding the cross. She set it upon the center of the altar. She recited the Anthem.

As she continued, Beth felt a rising emotion. The words slowly began to take hold of her. The Passion made a deep incursion into her heart. It became difficult to turn the pages of her Book of Common Prayer. She continued with the Confession of Sin. She closed her eyes and recited the Lord’s Prayer, her hands raised in praise.

Beth lowered her hands and held them together before her. She stood in silence. She could have ended the service here. When she began she was uncertain whether she would continue with Communion. She had consecrated the host and wine the night before as it is tradition not to perform The Great Thanksgiving and the Breaking of Bread on Good Friday.

Beth opened her eyes to the altar. One lone host rested on the paten. The wine was cupped in the chalice.

The Body of our Lord Jesus Christ, which was given for thee, preserved thy body and soul unto everlasting life. Take and eat this in remembrance that Christ died for thee, and feed on him in thy heart by faith, with thanksgiving.

With trembling hands Beth raised the host. Her head bowed she took it into her mouth. Her sorrow consumed her. It was not only hers. She shared it with the Christ. She placed her hands on the altar for support. She did not fight the assault but surrendered herself to it. Her tears flowed. She spoke the following words as she cried.

The Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, which was shed for thee, preserve thy body and soul unto everlasting life. Drink this in remembrance that Christ’s Blood was shed for thee, and be thankful.

Beth raised the chalice and drank the wine. She felt the wine travel through her. She felt its warmth. The elusive warmth did not escape, but made its residence. The warmth stayed with her. The warmth consoled her. She felt it as her tears continued.

Beth placed the chalice back onto the altar. Her tears would not be arrested. She did not concern herself with discovery. She was standing in the presence of God and nothing else mattered. She was not alone.

Nicole looked up from her reading to check the time. Ninety minutes had passed since Beth had made her request. Nicole closed her book and went to her CD player, turning the volume off. She listened to the sounds of the evening. She heard nothing from the other side of the den door.

Nicole entered the dining room. She paused at the sight of the table set for Mass. Her eyes scanned the chairs placed against the wall. A cross lay at the vertical head. At center the chalice and the paten, at one side the ciborium, to the other side the cruets and finger towels, evenly placed lighted candlesticks stood at the forefront, all resting on fine linen. Nicole had envisioned the setting. The impact of its tangible presence was far greater than she had thought possible. The dining room table was transformed into a sacred altar.

Nicole entered the living room. She paused at its center. Beth sat on the sunroom couch, her legs tugged underneath her. Looking at the reflection upon the sunroom windows, she could see that Beth was dressed in a simple white cassock alb with a knotted cotton rope cincture around her waist. Around her neck hung a white stole with the Celtic cross embroidered in metallic gold. Nicole could not define the feelings this image provoked. Before her was the image of Beth as she first knew her, the woman that she grew to love contrary to her better judgment. Before her was the woman who had gone into hiding during the passing months, whether she had been lying dormant or forcibly suppressed, Nicole was unable to discern. Before her was the woman Beth needed to be. Somehow Beth needed to return to the part of her vocation she left behind at St. Ann’s. Nicole did not know how this could come to be. She only knew that it had to be, whatever the price.

Nicole approached. Since the day in September when she found Beth praying, prayer beads in hand, Nicole had never interrupted Beth while she sat in the sunroom. Nicole took her place beside Beth. The glass reflection had failed to reveal Beth’s tears.

Nicole longed to be recognized. “Beth.”

Beth spoke, keeping her gaze out toward the night. “You said I was a scholar, a chaplain and a priest. You were right. In my heart I will never stop being a priest.”

“Maybe you were not meant to leave the Church.”

“I haven’t.” Beth turned to Nicole. “There’s something I haven’t told you.”

Nicole’s fear of losing Beth to God found a foothold.

“Nicki, the Church hasn’t taken away my priesthood. My Bishop gave me a year to decide. I declined until he asked me to do it as a courtesy to him.”

Nicole knew better. “But you didn’t do it as a courtesy to him.”

“At first…” Beth needed to be completely honest with herself. “No, I didn’t. It was always for me. I really didn’t know what I was giving up. My Bishop knew I needed to leave the door open so I could come to this day. I can’t go on the way I’ve been. I need a church. I don’t want to feel like an outcast when I celebrate the Eucharist. And, I want to celebrate the Eucharist. I want to be ordained in the Church. I still need some time, but I’m going to talk to Pam. I want to start attending her church.” Beth reached out and took Nicole’s hand, stroking Nicole’s gold band with her thumb. “I know we’ll be welcomed.”

Nicole’s eyes had followed Beth’s hand. She now raised her gaze back to Beth’s downcast eyes. With her left hand Nicole raised Beth’s chin. Nicole searched for a confirming glimmer of hope. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. The Episcopal Church made the decision for me. I just couldn’t leave until I understood.”

“Understood what?”

“Why I didn’t want to leave. Leaving meant I wasn’t good enough to serve God. It meant God rejected my love. I tried to love God but it hurt so much…. I felt forsaken. The distance between us seemed impossible.”

“What made it better?”

“You did.” Beth continued to hold Nicole’s hand. “Our blessing was the beginning. And then when we talked about the Episcopal Catechism I realized you were right. My core Episcopal beliefs are shared by most Christian denominations. I was holding on to form not content.”

Nicole looked over Beth’s shoulder toward the dining room. “Did you celebrate the Mass?”

“Yes. I can’t explain. Please believe me when I tell you that I’ve been touched by the love of God.”

“I believe you.”

“There is one thing I need you to know. I’ve forgiven the Episcopal Church for what it’s done to me and what it keeps on doing to women and men like me. I hope you can forgive it, too.”

“Beth. There is nothing for me to forgive. I’m not a part of the Church. It can’t hurt me the way it can and has hurt you.”

“Will I ever understand you?”

“Trust me. I am sincere in my respect for your faith.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Beth leaned over and kissed Nicole. “I love you.”

April 27, 2002

Pam’s four-year-old daughter, Sarah, was running around the picnic blanket giggling. Nicole stood a couple paces aside. “Pam. Does she ever get tired?”

Pam sat on the blanket along with Beth. “Give her an hour.”

“I’m exhausted just watching her.”

Tom, Pam’s husband, acted as Master Chef, grilling hamburgers and hot dogs. Matthew, their eight-year- old, played the role of chef’s assistant.

Nicole took Sarah by her pant’s waist and lifted her up. Sarah hung on a horizontal plane. Nicole swung her from side to side. Nicole called back to Pam. “You don’t need to work out. Just lift and release. Lift and release.” With each phrase Nicole lifted Sarah up to her waist and then lowered her back.

Sarah squealed in delight. “Moma! Moma!”

Beth could not believe Nicole with the children. Nor could Pam. “You never told me Nicole was so good with kids?”

“Nicki is full of surprises.”

Nicole now had Sarah by her ankles. “Sarah. How do you like an upside down world?”

Sarah laughed even louder. Swinging her arms she tried to place the new world in perspective. With a quick motion, Nicole took Sarah by the waist and lifted up, cradling her in her arms. “How’s this?”

Sarah was enjoying her new playmate. She took Nicole by the neck with her arms and held tight. Nicole looked into Sarah’s clear blue eyes. She felt the child’s innocent joy. It reached deep into her. She wondered if she had ever known such joy as a child. Sarah was mesmerized by Nicole’s attentiveness and quieted. Nicole held Sarah closer. She held in her arms unconditional trust. Nicole could not help but act upon her desire to kiss the girl on the forehead.

Beth noticed the silence and looked over to see what was amiss. What she saw moved her deeply. The strength of Nicole juxtaposed with the vulnerability of Sarah. She saw something in Nicole’s tender embrace of the child that she believed, until that moment, had always been reserved for her alone.

Pam whispered. “If Sarah was older I’d say you have competition.”

Beth wondered if could be true. Was Nicole falling in love?

The evening picnic was a success. Nicole and Beth walked silently, hand in hand, home from the lakefront. Upon reaching their apartment, Nicole placed the picnic basket on the kitchen counter and walked into her den. Beth withheld any comment regarding Nicole shirking her dishwashing duties.

The hours passed. Nicole remained in her den. Beth waited in the living room hoping Nicole would choose to come to her. Disappointed, she used the only legitimate reason she had to interrupt. Standing at the den threshold she saw Nicole sitting in one of the two tall back chairs. The side table lamp and the portrait lights were lit. Beth could observe a hint of Nicole’s profile. Nicole was not working. She was not reading. Her desk was clear. Her computer was turned off. Nothing lay on the side table to indicate any effort had been taken up. “Nicki. I’m going to bed.”

Beth received no response. She entered the den and knelt onto one knee beside Nicole, placing her hand on Nicole’s arm. She spoke softly. “Nicki.”

Nicole turned to Beth. “Nicki. It’s late. Why don’t we go to bed?”

Nicole surfaced from wherever she had been. She smiled. “In a little while.”

“I’ll be waiting.” Beth kissed Nicole on the cheek before leaving.

Nicole entered their bed within the half hour. Beth welcomed her. “Hi.”

Nicole extended her body alongside Beth and kissed her tenderly. She then shifted so her ear rested upon Beth’s heart. She draped her arm over Beth. Beth had come to know this rare posture as an indication of Nicole most troubled.

Nicole spoke with no apparent distress. “Pam and Tom have done a great job with Matthew and Sarah.”

“Yes, they have.”

“They’re happy kids.”

“Pam keeps saying that she’s dreading the teen years.”

“They don’t seem to be overly protective.”

“No. But Pam and Tom are careful.”

Nicole fell back into silence. As much as Beth wanted to lead the conversation, she chose to wait for Nicole to find her way.

“Something happened when I was playing with Sarah. I don’t know, Beth.” Nicole paused for a breath. “If I was ever that alive and innocent, I don’t remember it. I felt it through her. Everything I knew fell away as unimportant and it was just Sarah and making sure she was safe and healthy and happy. All her wild and crazy energy just stopped and she got quiet and she touched my cheek as if for that one moment I was the only thing between her and the world and she trusted me to keep holding her in my arms.”

“They can do that to you. Especially when they’re Sarah’s age.”

“You spent time with the kids when you were at St. Ann’s.”

“Yes, and during my internship at St. Michael’s.”

“After you finish your studies…”

Beth stroked Nicole’s hair. “Yes?”

“We’ll have been together for a while…a child. Beth, I could love your child.”

Beth heard Nicole’s fragile profession. It was not a mere consent to a child. It was a sincere desire and once again, Beth was left to wonder why the change. First no union ceremony and then she found herself kneeling side by side with Nicole, exchanging rings under the support beams of a church, being given the blessing of Christ and God. She had wanted a child for herself and for Nicole. Nicole had been clear. The risk of a child was too great for her to take. Nicole’s previous honesty could not be argued with. Having a child was a risk. The world could be a brutal place. Having a child with intention took great faith in oneself; if one was partnered in one’s mate, in the child yet born and for Beth, in God. Having a child was an act of faith in God. It reflected a belief that God’s creation was good. That whatever came to be had a purpose, a purpose often beyond reason. Nicole laid upon Beth’s heart asking for a child and Beth knew that this was the only way they could have ever chosen to become more than a couple, to become a family. Beth had to allow Nicole to find the heart to love. For Nicole heart translated to courage. Nicole needed to find the courage to love her. That had been confessed. Nicole now needed a greater courage to expand the circle and include a third. One thing had not changed. Nicole was not asking to bear the child. Beth understood that limit remained. But, Nicole would love her child. ‘Her child’ — for Beth that sentiment was unacceptable.

“Nicki, come here.” Beth coaxed Nicole to her.

Nicole raised herself up and hovered over Beth, as was her custom. Beth swept Nicole’s hair to the side. “The child will always be ours. Not mine. It’s the only way it can be for us.”

Nicole offered a whimsical smile. “May be we can find some Greek donor sperm.”

Beth laughed. “A Greek with blue eyes.”

May 02, 2002

The two women sat across from one another at the dining room table. A Scrabble game set between them. Beth was scoring high words. Nicole struggled to keep pace.

Beth finished the latest tally. “Want to know the score.”

“Nope.”

“One thing I like about this game is the combination of knowledge and skill that is required to win.” Beth was enjoying herself at Nicole’s expense.

“There is still the luck of draw.”

“Yes, but if you really know words you can work with just about any letter.”

“Give me chess. Chess is pure strategy. Luck is never an element.”

Beth smiled as she set down her next word.

Nicole playfully warned. “You keep this up and I’ll never play with you again.”

“Are you sure you’re not letting me win?”

“Yes!”

Beth had to wonder. “How can you be so illiterate?”

Nicole looked up from her letters; letters that refused to form anything more than a simple four-letter word. “Thank you for that. I can’t spell. I admit it.”

“You with so many skills.” Beth laughed.

“Now that you know the truth, do you still love me?”

Beth picked her replacement letters. “I love you more.”

“Maybe we could play a game of chess later?”

“There isn’t a competitive bone in your body, is there?”

Nicole smiled guiltily.

The telephone rang. Beth offered. “I’ll get it.

Nicole continued to play with her letters.

“Hello?”

A woman’s voice, “May I speak to Beth?”

“Speaking.”

“Beth, this is Doctor Lorenz. Is this a good time?” Beth looked over to Nicole, intent on the Scrabble board.

“Yes.”

“Your test results have come back. I need you to come in so I can do some follow-up tests.”

“Is it…”

“Beth. You have always asked me to be honest with you. I’m concerned, but there isn’t cause for alarm. Given your family history I want to be sure everything is in order.”

“When?”

“I’ll have my office call you in the morning. It should only take a few days before we get you in.”

“Have your office page me. I’ll be on the hospital floor most of the day.”

“Do you have any questions?”

“I’ll wait until I see you.”

“All right. Good night, Beth.”

“Thank you for calling.” Beth lay the phone down on its cradle.

Nicole looked up. “Who was that?”

“The hospital. I asked the Nurses’ Station to give me an update on a patient I’ve been counseling.”

Nicole could see that Beth was troubled. “Bad news?”

Beth returned to her chair. “Don’t know yet. The results were inconclusive. They need to do more tests.”

Nicole offered what little comfort she could. “I hope the new test results are good.”

Beth met Nicole’s visual embrace. “So do I.”

Date: May 14, 2002

Beth entered the apartment. “Nicki?”

“In the den.”

Beth leaned against the den threshold. “Hi.”

Nicole looked up from her computer. “Hi.”

“Will you be working late?”

Nicole smiled. “Make me an offer.”

“You and me. A walk after dinner.”

Sheepishly, Nicole questioned. “Miss me, do you?”

Beth adored Nicole when she was playful. “Very much.”

“I’m all yours.”

The two walked by the lakefront to the murmur of the calm Lake Michigan waters washing up on the shoreline. “Here.” Beth sat on a park bench leading Nicole by the hand to join her.

Settled beside Beth, Nicole led the conversation. “What is it, Beth?”

Beth kept Nicole’s hand, focusing on it. “I went for my annual check-up. My blood test and an ultra sound indicate an ovarian tumor.” Beth looked up.

Nicole knew Beth had an agenda. Beth was transparent, but only to a point. Nicole never suspected what Beth had told her. Beth’s calmness was constant though her world was being reshaped into a nightmare. Nicole voiced the diagnosis first. “Cancer?”

“Because of my family history and the fact that I have the mutated gene related to ovarian cancer, my risk is high.”

“Where is the tumor?”

“My right ovary.”

Nicole stood and walked a few paces away from Beth. Beth followed her with her eyes. Nicole spoke with her back still to Beth. “When did you find out?”

“The final labs came in today.”

Nicole turned around. “What’s next?”

“I need to meet with the surgeon. My doctor recommends removal of both ovaries. Maybe a hysterectomy. If the tumor is malignant and they’ve caught it early, nothing more. If the cancer has spread, chemo.”

“When?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe in a week.”

Nicole took a step forward. Having the facts, she could see Beth again. “How are you?”

Beth continued with the task related details. “I need to call Marie tonight. She might want to fly in from Atlanta.”

Nicole would give Beth latitude. “Your father?”

“No.”

Nicole looked away trying to subdue her rising emotions. After a brief pause she queried. “Anyone else?”

“Pam. I’ll tell her in the morning. She’ll have to adjust my schedule at the hospital. At least I’m only going to miss the last week of CPE.”

Silence took its place between them as they held each in the other’s gaze. The reality of the conversation began to own Nicole. She spoke softly. “Beth, do you realize what you just told me?”

Beth stood up and went to Nicole. “Nicki, I won’t mention God’s will and my needing to learn to bend myself to it. I won’t tell you that I’ve been struggling and that I spent the better part of the last few days in the hospital chapel praying to have the faith to accept my diagnosis. I’m just going to tell you that I’m determined to accept the grace of life with humility. seeking goodness both within myself and within others.”

Beth gave Nicole her faith in hand, fragile yet resilient. She melded her faith into Nicole’s own tenet, hoping to remind Nicole of where their beliefs crossed paths.

“I wish you had told me. You shouldn’t have waited alone.”

“I needed time. I thought you, better than anyone, would understand. Anyway, I’m not alone. I’ve never been alone.”

Nicole reached out and touched Beth’s cross. She could not fathom Beth’s faith. It was beyond Nicole. But, Nicole accepted that Beth’s faith, her triune God was and would always be a part of their shared lives. Nicole could not displace Beth’s god and as this moment once again affirmed, Beth’s god took precedence over her. Beth went to God first and her second. Having Beth in her life was the greatest grace Nicole had known. Accepting Beth and Beth’s love had been a difficult struggle. Accepting Beth and Beth’s love in the context of Beth’s faith had been and continued to be humbling. God had Beth’s divine love. Nicole had Beth’s earthly love. It was hard at times, but Nicole willed herself to see the good, the balance in Beth’s loves. Nicole’s will trembled.

Nicole looked up from the cross. Nicole had no words for Beth. She knew Beth waited for her. Nicole could not consider the loss. To touch the possibility would be to enter despair beyond grief, beyond the loss of her own life, which she would readily trade for Beth’s. Without a word Nicole took Beth into her arms.

Date: May 15, 2002 A.M.

“No! I’ve tried, Kate. I’ve tried. From our first days in the apartment I knew I didn’t want to share Beth with her god. I didn’t want God in between us. I wanted to steal her away and I thought that by giving her those things God couldn’t give her, I would.”

“Do you have any ideal how hard it was to accept that everything I gave Beth, to her, ultimately came from God? The more I loved her the more God loved her. Do you have any idea how hard it was to accept that? Beth would never be completely mine. I had to learn to share her. If I didn’t, she and I didn’t have a future. If I tried to squelch her faith, if I tried to make her choose between us, I would destroy her. Don’t you know I knew that! I could love her, make love to her, take her away from the world, but only for a brief moment in time, and never once were we alone. Beth can’t live without her God and I didn’t want to live without Beth. I relented. I finally came to a place where I agreed to the terms. I accepted the terms Kate, but only because I still had Beth in my life. The terms have changed. Where is the love of God now? Where is the love of God in cancer?”

Kate cleared her calendar and drove to the Elysian Fields immediately after Nicole called her with Beth’s news. She stood before Nicole’s desk trying to find a way to reach her friend. “Nicki, Beth needs both you and her faith. Now, more than ever.”

“Don’t tell me that, Kate. I went down on my knees for her. I’ve played nice with the religious. I’ve bitten my tongue, again and again. I redefined my integrity. She tells me this is the will of God. That she has to learn to bend to it. Well I don’t have to bend to anything! There is no God, Kate!” Nicole slammed her fist on the desk. “There is no God! I won’t pretend. I won’t stand beside her and pretend.”

“You can’t let her go through this alone.”

“She’s not alone. She’s got God!”

Kate sat down across from Nicole. “Nicki, please tell me you weren’t like this when she told you.”

Nicole stood up. “No. I wasn’t like this. I was calm. I asked all the right questions. And then I looked at her and I couldn’t speak. All I could do was hold her.”

Kate felt a wave of relief. “She has been having annual check-ups. The chances that they caught the cancer early are good.”

Nicole walked away and stood in front of the windows looking out at the cityscape. Kate waited as the minutes ticked away. Nicole finally spoke. Her violent emotions were checked, replaced by sorrow. “She wanted a child. I just told her… I just told her I would share her child. Why did I tell her? Why now?”

Knowing Nicole as she did, Kate would never have expected her to consent to a child. Kate continued to be impressed by how Nicole’s commitment to Beth had taken precedence in her life. She went and stood beside her. “Maybe she needed to know that you would have loved her child. Maybe that was the point, for both of you to know how far you have grown together. That in spite of everything you would chose to bring a child into this world.”

“She’s so young.”

“So are you. Cancer hasn’t been very discriminant with you two. Nicki, remember you told me that at Shenandoah you accepted your death. That you would have died grateful for your life even though it was short lived. What’s to say Beth doesn’t experience her life in the same way? She wanted to give, and she has, as a priest and a chaplain. She has the love of her friends. She has never been closer to Marie. After all the pain of leaving her church, she still has God. And Nicki, she has you. You said your only regret at Shenandoah was that you hadn’t been able to give Beth everything she deserved from you. Look at what you’ve done since then. I’ve watched you. I’m so proud of you. I’m so proud of how much you’ve given Beth. Beth has never been happier. If the absolute worst happens and she accepts it as the will of God, you have to stand by her in every way. So help me, if you don’t, I’ll find hell, take you there myself and make sure you never leave it.” (Bravo! I like Kate.)

“You won’t have to. I’m already feeling the fire.”

“Why are you being so hard on yourself? I haven’t seen you like this since…” Kate grabbed Nicole’s arm and pulled her so that they would face each other. “It isn’t the same.”

“She’s sick and I can’t help her.”

Kate repeated. “Nicki. It isn’t the same.”

Nicole looked away.

Kate’s memory vividly brought the past to the present. She demanded. “Beth knows. You’ve told her. I know you have.”

Nicole pulled her arm free. “Yes, she knows. I tell her every day.”

“This is not like your Mom. This is nothing like your Mom.”

Nicole returned her gaze to the cityscape. She felt complete defeat. “My Mom, Carrie… She looked down to the building across the street. “Jacob.”

“If you had given up when your Mom died, you would never have become the woman you are, and Beth would never have come into your life. I know what it did to you. I was there. I’m here now and I’m telling you that you can’t let this destroy you. You can’t shut down again.”

Nicole could not survive alone. “I need you to be around.”

“I’m here, Nicki. Just tell me what you need and you’ll have it.”

Date: May 15, 2002 P.M.

Beth picked up the phone. “Hello.”

“Beth. It’s Kate.”

Beth responded automatically. “Kate. Nicki’s not here.”

“I know. Nicki called me.” Kate struggled to find the right words. “I’m sorry.”

Beth deflected the sympathy. “How is she?” Beth’s concern for Nicole had not been soothed during the course of the previous night, only compounded.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Confidentiality.” With gentle whimsy, Beth noted the ongoing defining limitations of her relationship with Kate.

“No. It’s not that. I’ve only seen Nicki like this once before and it’s hard to know what she’s feeling, or what she’ll do.” Kate’s impotence was agonizing. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Thank you, Kate. I just have to wait.”

“Nicki authorized me to take care of your legal needs: Medical Durable Power of Attorney, Power of Attorney, and Will. Do have them done?”

“No.”

“You work in a hospital. You know how important they are.”

Beth knew that this task was not optional. “When can you see me?”

“Anytime. I’ll open up my calendar for you.”

“Tomorrow morning?”

“Nine o’clock.”

“That ‘ll work.”

“Beth. In spite of my friendship with Nicki, as your attorney I will keep your decisions in confidence.”

“I know.”

“Now, I’m speaking as Nicki’s friend. Whom you choose to name as your representative is your decision and it must be someone who knows you well and who you trust literally with your life. If you don’t choose Nicki, she needs to be told. And if you do name her, you must talk to her before you go into the hospital. She can’t read your wishes on a piece of paper. You must discuss them with her until you’re certain she understands, accepts, and is capable of giving you what you want. There can be no doubt.”

“I understand.” Beth did understand that Kate was walking a fine line as she upheld her standard of professional ethics while, to the best of her ability, safeguarding Nicole from any unnecessary harm.

“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow at nine.”

“Thank you, Kate.” Beth set the telephone receiver down. She wondered what Kate had meant about having “only seen Nicki like this once before.” Beth’s fear for Nicole escalated.

Date: May 20, 2002 P.M.

Legs crossed, Marie sat on the living room couch. “Is Nicole always so talkative?”

Beth took her place on the opposite side of the couch, well aware of the source of her sister’s muted sarcasm. “You’ll be surprised. This isn’t the best time.”

Marie considered her sister. She had never thought of Beth as fragile, but the truth no longer escaped her. What Marie once thought was Beth at her most misguided was now a part of her that she reluctantly respected because she knew it was Beth’s faith, above all else, that gave her the strength to endure. “No regrets?”

“Some. I could have made our life together easier for Nicki.”

“She loves you. I can tell.”

“There isn’t a day she doesn’t tell me she loves me.”

“I got a feeling two women together don’t have to work as hard at being romantic.”

“That a comment on Joey?”

Marie smiled. “He’s got potential.”

Seeing the grin on Marie’s face, Beth could not help but laugh.

“Joey offered to come to Chicago with me.”

“And you said no because…”

“I’m already sharing you with Nicole… Is there anything I can do for her while you’re in the hospital?”

“Give her plenty of space, especially if the news isn’t good.”

“Beth…” Marie leaned over and laid her head upon Beth’s lap.”

Beth welcomed the intimacy. She stroke Marie’s hair. There was a time as children that Beth would often comfort Marie in just this way.

“I think Nicole for Dad was a good trade.”

“I wish it didn’t have to be that way.”

“You can’t change the old man.”

“I know.”

Marie reached up and took Beth’s hand. “I don’t remember Mom very well.”

“It’s hard to keep the memories from slipping away. We were so young when she died. Grandmother was good in telling me stories about our life with her. You take after Mom more than I do. There was a bit of a rebel in her.”

“I miss Grandma, too. I’m sorry I didn’t go to her funeral.”

“Maybe we could drive down together sometime and visit the cemetery.”

“We don’t have to see Dad, do we?”

“No. Just the two of us.”

“I’d like that.”

Beth opened the apartment door to Kate. “Hi. Come on in.”

Kate entered the front foyer. Marie approached. Kate greeted the younger Kelly. “Hi kid. You ready?”

“Anytime.”

Kate looked around. She saw no hint of Nicole. “Where is she?”

“She went to the park. She said you would know where to find her.”

“I know the place. I’ll bring her home in a little while.”

“Kate.” Beth steadied herself. “Please take care of her.”

Kate understood the trust. “I’m doing my best.”

“Thank you.”

Kate turned toward the opened door. She paused and looked over to Beth. “Beth, have I ever told you I liked you?”

Beth smiled. “No. You haven’t.”

“I do. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to Nicki. I hope you realize that.”

Beth had long wondered if Kate approved of their match. She felt a particular satisfaction in confirming that Nicole’s protector had accepted her. “Don’t take too long. Nicki and I have some things to talk about.”

Nicole sat on a park bench watching the lake waters, listening to their gentle song. She knew she faced an incomprehensible mystery. For Nicole, God was and would always be, the mystery of life, the mystery beyond the divine. To come to terms with the mystery, with God, was a constant struggle. She engaged that mystery privately, but without the spoken word, God. To name God was to convey an understanding to those who would hear her speak, far different from her intent.

Unlike Beth, she did not know if she was guided by the mystery. She did not know if the mystery had any expectations of her. Nor had she a sense that the mystery loved her. Though she did not know its nature, she did know that the mystery existed. What she did know was that, for reasons beyond her comprehension, she had the capacity to contemplate the mystery. And so she did. Nicole knew that her life would be incomplete where God not a constant, indecipherable companion.

Nicole hesitated to refer to God. She hesitated because to look to the heavens and allow the name of God to slip from her tongue could be interpreted to mean that she believed in the mystery in a way that granted the possibility of a response from its source. Nicole could not fathom the mystery as a sentient essence, which would, in turn, know her and believe in her.

It was hard enough for Nicole to accept that there were people in this world who saw more in her than she saw in herself. She had hesitated with them as well. She had hesitated with Jacob until his constancy won her trust. She had hesitated with Kate until their friendship was tested by the despair Nicole felt in the death of her mother. She had hesitated with Beth until Beth’s love owned her. Nicole did not understand their confidence in her. She did not understand how they could be so sure of her. And yet, they each, in their own way, believed in her.

Nicole’s greatest uncertainty resided between her and the mystery, between her and God. How could Nicole reach out or reach in and touch God, and believe in God? How could she trust in God when she did not know God and would never know God? There lay the key. She knew she had yet to trust the mystery, God, as she had learned to trust Jacob, Kate and Beth. She knew that her lack of trust was a function of her not engaging, not directly experiencing, not physically sensing God as she did the latter three. She knew that her lack of trust was a function of her inability to see, hear, touch, taste, hear the infinite within the finite, the finite being miraculous enough to leave her awed. In this moment, all that she could do was trust and respond to the divine she sensed in the vision of the lake waters and the sounds of the water’s gentle song.

On this eve Nicole was bereft of the faith she once held as a child, faith in what stood beyond the mystery, faith that God was Beth’s God and Jacob’s God, not her enigma. As deeply as she mined for her faith she had yet to strike the prerequisite vein. What would have given her solace, and what she felt, never merged to become one and the same. So, she remained the heathen who contemplated God without knowing God. She remained the woman who loved a woman who loved God. In her hour of need she would soon reach out and touch Beth. Her act of holding Beth, the divine she found in Beth, was the closest Nicole could come to God. In her hour of need holding Beth would be her prayer.

Kate sat beside Nicole. She put her hand on Nicole’s arm. “How are you?”

“I wish I smoked or drank.”

“Do you think it would help?”

“No, but at least I could fall back on a cliché.”

“There are other cliché’s to choose from.”

“Not now, Kate. After I know, one way or another, I’ll fall back on the cliché of a hysterical Greek banshee. Just don’t come near me then. I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

“Have you two talked?”

“A little. We’ll talk tonight. Thanks for putting Marie up for the night.”

“We’ll meet you at the hospital.”

“Remember it’s 7 a.m. not p.m.”

“Did I know that?” Kate gave Nicole a friendly shove. “I figure I’ll get some good stories about when Beth was a kid in the bargain.”

Nicole smiled. “I hadn’t thought of that. I need to take Marie out for a private lunch.”

“You’ll have the chance while Beth recovers.”

Nicole looked over to her friend. “Thank you for that.”

“Marie seems nice enough.”

“I like watching the two of them together. It’s like watching you with Tracy.”

“That’s now. You should have seen us when we were growing up. We had love/hate down to a science. It was different with Adam and Cal. Having older brothers was cool and it was nice knowing they kept an eye on their little sisters.”

“Until you wanted to start dating.”

Kate laughed out loud. “They didn’t like the competition!”

Laughing along, Nicole wrapped her arm around Kate. “I love you.”

“Same here.”

They fell back into a comfortable silence, the kind of silence that can only be shared with friends who have walked through the uncertain, opaque mist of life together.

Nicole spoke softly. “Beth has been so calm. She’s taking care of us more than we are taking care of her.”

“It’s who she is. She isn’t going to change now.”

Nicole turned her gaze toward Kate. “But, I want to help her.”

“You’ll figure it out. You both will.”

Date: May 20, 2002 Evening

Beth held Nicole. She had tried to be strong during the intervening days between Dr. Lorenz’s first phone call and this day. She needed to try to come to terms with her mother’s legacy, a life that begat a predisposition to a young death. She understood this and she thought she had surrendered herself to the finite. But that was before St. Ann’s. It was before Nicole. The life she fashioned imploded in response to the weight of truth: the truth of the Episcopalian Church that denied her, the truth of Nicole’s disbelief that drove a wedge between Beth and God only because Beth had failed to accept Nicole as a grace from God. Beth knew her father would claim Beth’s cancer was divine retribution for leaving the Church, for loving Nicole. Beth wondered were that true, what great, unforgivable act had her mother placed before God? Beth was grateful that in the previous year her life had been torn asunder, down to its purest core. If her life was to be short lived, at least it would be an honest life. If her life was to be short lived, it was a life that had known a great love. Beth held Nicole. She did not want to let go. She wanted to know Nicole’s love in all its forms, forms yet to become, forms that would be shared with time as they aged, as life challenged them, as she had given life to their child and they parented the child. Before Nicole, Beth had stifled her dreams. With Nicole, the dreams slowly manifested and found a hold in her life. Love, partnership, a promise of family, these were primary. There was also her vocation. Her vocation found a new truth in her ministry as a chaplain. She looked forward to her studies, fellowship in hand. Why was she given so much to have it all placed at risk before the harsh reality of cancer? Was it so she would die knowing she was worthy of God’s love - that as Jacob had told her she needed “a little more help than others”? She needed proof so she was given Nicole to know how deep and abiding love could be, how the impossible could be possible. She was given a brief time in her vocation to be a valued instrument of God. She was given the University fellowship to set aside any lingering doubts of the merit of her scholarship.

Beth held Nicole. She did not want to let go. She did not want to die. God help her, she did not want to be released from her earthly life. It would have been easier before Nicole. In her arid life at St Ann’s, a young death would have been difficult, but it would not have come close to what she was now fighting within herself. Beth held Nicole knowing that she had to let go. She prayed that God would have mercy on her and help her let go of all that had been bestowed.

Beth packed her things in the bedroom while Nicole read on the living room couch. Beth held her Bible in her hand. She lifted it up and bowed to it, placing a kiss upon it. “Lord have mercy upon my soul. Give me the strength and wisdom to endure. Amen.” She placed the Bible in her overnight bag. Beth lifted her eyes toward the door. Beyond waited Nicole. There were things that Beth still needed to say to Nicole. The need for God’s mercy was immediate.

She walked into the living room and accepted Nicole’s unspoken invitation. Nicole lifted her book aside as Beth took her place, resting her body over Nicole’s. Nicole placed a kiss upon Beth’s head and held her gently.

Beth took comfort in their ability to share silence even though she knew it was necessary for her to break it. “Nicki. I saw Kate this morning and signed my legal papers. Thank you for making the arrangements.”

“Your welcome.”

“I’ve named you my primary representative and Marie my secondary on everything.”

Nicole stroked Beth’s hair.

“Nicki, if things go badly during the operation or afterwards. If the time comes that there is no hope, let me go. I know I’ve argued the point with you. My feelings have changed a bit. I’ve seen too many extraordinary precautions taken at the hospital. I trust that you’ll fight for my life and, if it’s my time, I trust that you’ll fight for my death.”

Nicole closed her eyes. She gathered all her strength to maintain her composure. She could not find her voice and reverted to another kiss.

Beth continued. “I talked to Marie. She understands my wishes. You won’t have to decide alone if you don’t want to.” Beth paused. She heard Nicole’s heartbeat and felt the rise and fall of Nicole’s breath. “Nicki?”

“I’m here.”

“Writing my will, I realized how little I own. I left you everything except my grandmother’s cross. I want Marie to have it.”

Nicole could not conceive parting with the cross. It had always been Beth to her. She would, however, honor Beth’s wishes.

“I’d like to be buried beside my mother in Riverton. I want to be holding my prayer beads.”

Again, Nicole was losing a symbol of Beth’s faith. “Your father. Are you sure you don’t want to call him?”

“If I’m not his daughter healthy, I’m not his daughter sick. I’ve seen what happens when estranged families are forced to deal with each other in a hospital. It won’t take long before either you or Marie goes after my father…and with reason. You don’t need that. I don’t want it.”

Nicole kissed Beth.

“I could never have imagined you. I could never have prayed for you to come into my life. My God, having you in my life changed everything. I love God more because you came into my life. I know it didn’t always seem that way, but it’s true.” Beth reached out and took Nicole’s hand. She kissed it tenderly.

“Nicki, I didn’t expect this so soon. I think I always knew I would get sick like my Mom, but I honestly thought I would have more time. I thought we would have more time.” Beth bit her lip trying to hold back her tears. “I wanted to give you a child. I’m so sorry. I should have told you when I first met you. You shouldn’t have to deal with my illness.”

Nicole had reached her limit. She took Beth by her arms and raised her up as she leaned her own body forward. “Stop this!” Nicole held Beth sternly in her gaze. Beth looked away. “Look at me, Beth.” Nicole accentuated each word as she repeated her command. “Look. At. Me.”

Beth raised her gaze. There was one final gift Beth wanted from Nicole. Her fingertips traced Nicole’s mouth bidding the anger away, seeking Nicole’s more tender passion. Trembling, Beth leaned forward and kissed Nicole. The trembling kiss grew more needy. Beth’s longing had surfaced. Nicole braced herself. Beth would have her. She would have Beth. On this night of fear, all that words failed to convey would be expressed through touch.

Date: May 21, 2002 A.M.

They entered the Admitting area of the hospital. Nicole carried Beth’s overnight bag. Beth paused. “I’d like to stop at the Chapel first.” Nicole nodded and allowed Beth to lead them forward.

Beth entered the small chapel. There were four small pews on each side of a center aisle, at the forefront a small altar. Behind the altar, upon the wall, were the symbols of the major faiths: the Celtic cross of Christianity; the Mogen David of Judaism; the star and crescent of Islam; the Sanskrit characters which are pronounced Ohm, the Hindu symbol of ultimate reality; the Yin-Yang of the Tao; and the Eight Spoked Wheel representing the Eight-Fold path of Buddhism.

Beth went to a second row pew and knelt. Nicole remained standing in the back. For a moment, she released her steadfast gaze toward Beth. She scanned the chapel, knowing that it had been Beth’s spiritual home for the past nine months. This was the space, more than any other, where Beth went to be with God. It was a gentle space, the lighting muted, placed outside a quiet corridor of the hospital, welcoming to as many as it could possibility be without becoming so generic that it held no hint of the sacred. Nicole liked the space. She placed Beth’s overnight bag down on the floor. She stood erect, her hands clasped before her. She closed her eyes and bowed her head to the infinite, to all that surpassed human understanding, to the force of creation, to the source of the divine she found in every living being. She stood and felt the pulse of her own life course through her veins and with each breath she moved closer to a stillness within her that stripped away all that was nonessential. She felt her strength and her vulnerability. She felt her love and her fear. She felt Beth’s spirit. She knew she was both alone and part of a shared universe, inexplicably linked.

Beth completed her prayer. She sought courage to face the truth and to accept it gracefully. She sought compassion for those she loved and loved her. When Beth turned back, she saw Nicole standing, head bowed, eyes closed, in complete stillness. To Beth it was a posture of prayer and yet she knew Nicole did not pray. Beth was deeply stirred by the image. She wished she understood what she was seeing.

As Beth approached her, Nicole opened her eyes and offered a small smile. Beth placed her hand over Nicole’s heart. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

“They won’t let me wear my cross and ring. Keep them for me.”

“Of course.”

Beth raised her hands behind her neck and unclasped her cross. She took Nicole’s hand. Nicole opened her palm to Beth. Beth placed the cross and chain upon it. She then removed her gold band and placed it over the cross. She closed Nicole’s palm and covered it with her own hand. Beth remembered the day Nicole came to her at St. Ann’s to return the stolen cross. She remembered the day in Boston when Nicole secured the cross back on her neck, the cross Beth had discarded in her anger and frustration. She remembered the day Nicole had taken to her knees in the sight of God and put the gold band upon her finger, pledging her love. Beth kissed Nicole’s hand. She then looked up to Nicole and said the words spoken less often than those of love but which are of equal importance. “Thank you, Nicki. Thank you for everything you’ve given me.”

“Beth…”

“It’s time.”

Kate and Nicole stood outside of Beth’s glass-enclosed room giving Beth and Marie time alone. “So, did you get any good stories about Beth?”

“A few. We were up half the night talking. How about you two? Did you talk?”

“Yes.”

“My God it’s a choir!”

Nicole followed Kate’s eyes. Led by Pam, the chaplains, all in their blue blazers, approached. “Good morning, Nicole.”

“Hello, Pam. I don’t think you’ve met my friend, Kate.”

Pam and Kate exchanged greetings. Kate decided it was a good time to be irreverent. “Are you going to sing to Beth? If you are, I have a pretty good voice.”

Nicole smiled. “Don’t listen to her. She sings like a bullfrog.”

“At least you didn’t say butch.”

Pam laughed. “I’m glad to see you’re in good spirits.”

“Better than crying.” Kate sobered.

Pam explained to Nicole. “We thought we would offer a prayer.”

“Of course. Go right in.”

Through the open door the chaplains entered Beth’s room, congregating around her bed. Spirits were warm and uplifting.

Kate turned to Nicole. “You coming in?”

“Go ahead. I need a minute.”

Kate studied her friend carefully, satisfying herself of Nicole’s wellbeing before leaving her side.

Having a measure of privacy, Nicole lifted Beth’s ring, and cross and chain from her blazer pocket. She studied the symbols as they rested in her palm. She did not fight the surge of emotion. She felt it freely. Her love and fear bound together. She strung the ring to the chain and then secured the chain around her neck. The ring and cross fell together beside her Celtic pendant, which hung independently on its own silver chain.

Nicole heard Pam’s voice. “Let us pray.”

Nicole turned toward the room entrance. The occupants had joined hands. She walked in and stood a couple paces to the side, keeping a clear view of Beth, who lay in bed, one hand holding Marie, the other, Pam. Nicole did not hear the words of the prayer. She heard nothing. The world had stopped and she stood alone with Beth.

“Amen.”

Beth opened her eyes, immediately capturing Nicole’s gaze and holding it.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but surgery is on its way” Beth’s nurse gently announced.

The chaplains made their way out of the room, hovering outside, intent to wait until Beth was transported to away. Kate squeezed Beth’s hand and wordlessly stepped out. Marie kissed her sister and spoke a word of love before following Kate to the door. It was only then that Nicole returned to Beth. She took Beth’s hand, sharing it with Beth’s prayer beads.

Beth noticed the cross. She reached out and touched it. Beth smiled. “What are people going to think?”

“There goes my reputation.”

“Could you hold these for me until I get back from surgery?” Beth turned her hand allowing the prayer beads to slip into Nicole’s grasp.

“We really are going to confuse people.” Nicole offered a fragile smile. She raised her free hand to Beth’s brow, sweeping a wisp of hair aside. “I have one regret.”

Beth looked thoughtfully to Nicole. She could not begin to guess what Nicole was feeling. What they had not spoken of the night before.

“I regret that I couldn’t love you as perfectly as God loves you.”

Beth released a small cry. “Nicki.”

Nicole kissed Beth lightly on the forehead and then peered over to the door. “Oh good. Now everyone is going to say the heathen made you cry.”

Beth laughed quietly, composing herself, grateful for the blessing of humor at this moment. “Nicki. You know the concept of Christians seeking to become the bride of Christ?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know how it applies to marriage?”

Nicole was uncertain of Beth’s reference. “In Paul’s writings?”

“…and St. John Chrysostom. The love of two physically joined creates the experience of becoming one with another without losing oneself, without being destroyed. God gave us this so we could have a better understanding of what our union with God would ultimately be. Every time you’ve made love to me, I’ve known the perfect love of God. I’ve never separated that love from you.”

Nicole watched as Beth was wheeled away to surgery. Pam stood beside her. “Pam, I understand the theology of redemptive suffering. Tell me. Knowing Beth, what could she possibly have done to deserve this?”

“It may not be Beth who needs to learn the lesson.”

Nicole took a hard look at Pam. Pam placed a consoling hand over Nicole’s arm. “Nor you. Many of us have been touched by Beth’s illness.”

Jerry entered the chapel. To his surprise, he found Nicole sitting in one of the pews. Jerry debated whether to leave Nicole in her privacy. His own discomfort, given his past behavior, was motivation to leave.

Nicole looked over to the figure that had sat beside her. Had she attempted to guess, Jerry would never have come to mind. His eyes rested upon his own hands. She returned her gaze to the front of the chapel.

“Beth comes here often.”

Nicole responded in a hushed voice. “Yes. I know.”

“Makes me feel closer to her.” Jerry had hoped for an encouraging word from Nicole. Nicole remained silent. “I envied her. When all the chaplains sat together at lunch…”

Nicole gave Jerry a sharp glance. She did not want the chaplain to trespass upon Beth’s confidentiality a second time. Jerry met Nicole’s gaze. He did not flinch. “She is poised and articulate. She sees and senses things others don’t always pickup on. She digs deep and takes us along for the ride. And all I can think about is ‘she’s so young.’ How can someone so young know life and God the way she does? She didn’t talk about you in intimate terms. Just generalities. But there was no escaping the fact that your beliefs differed from hers. I refused to believe you two could make a relationship work. I had it in my mind that it was a lie. That Beth was lying either to us or to herself. Then you came to the reception. The minute you walked in it was obvious that everything Beth had told us was true. Actually, if anything, she had been modest in her description of you. The way you embraced each other… Do you have any idea of how your love for her radiates from you?” Again, Jerry paused in hope of a response. None was given. He wanted to believe Nicole was listening. He went on. “I was stupid. I thought I could knock you down a notch or two. But instead you took me down. You gave me enough chances to admit I didn’t have a clue of what I was talking about, but my pride kept on getting in the way until I completely humiliated myself by attacking you and betraying Beth. I apologized to her.”

“She told me.”

“I never apologized to you. Nicole, I hope you can forgive me.”

“I let go of that night quite awhile ago.” Nicole could see that Jerry needed more from her. “I accept your apology.”

Jerry offered Nicole a muted smile. “Thank you.” He stood up. “I know you don’t put much merit into it, but Beth is in my prayers.”

Nicole had followed Jerry with her eyes. “Thank you.”

Jerry’s smile broadened. He tapped his hand against the pew, expressing an unconscious note of satisfaction and relief. He turned away and exited the chapel leaving Nicole once again to her own thoughts. Jerry’s words were in the forefront. ‘How can someone so young know life and God the way she does?’ Of all that Jerry said, it was his question, complete with his appreciation of Beth, which touched Nicole’s heart.

Date: May 21, 2002 P.M.

Dr. Nash, Beth’s surgeon, entered the surgical waiting area. Seeing him, Kate placed her hand on Nicole’s arm. Nicole looked over to Kate and then up to see Nash. She met him in the middle of the room. Kate stayed a pace behind. Marie joined Nicole. Connor and Pam stood close enough to hear, but distant enough not to intrude.

“Beth went through the operation very well. We got to the tumor early. We removed her ovaries, as planned. I also decided to remove her uterus and Fallopian tubes as a precaution. I won’t know more until we get complete labs, but I believe the cancer was localized. There was no hint that it had metastasized.”

Nicole stood silent. She struggled to take in the meaning of Nash’s assessment. Kate placed her hand on Nicole’s shoulder and took a step forward.

Marie asked. “When can we see her?”

“A couple of hours.” Nash looked over to Nicole. He realized Nicole was not in a frame of mind to pursue any further information. “Dr. Lorenz and I will stop by later and talk to both you and Beth.”

Nicole nodded.

Nash reached out and took Nicole’s hand. “Beth is going to be fine.”

Nicole fixed onto the surgeon’s eyes. They were sincere.

Nicole turned and walked toward the corner of the room where she had been waiting. She looked out to the overcast sky and wondered why the sun was not shining. They had prepared for the worst possible news. Nicole was convinced her happiness with Beth, undeserved, would be taken from her. Beth had approached her life as limited by the genetic predisposition to ovarian cancer. For the moment they had received a reprieve. Both she and Beth would leave the hospital with the overwhelming grace of life still theirs. Nicole began to cry, tears of unexpressed sorrow, tears of relief, tears of joy. They burst through the well-constructed internal fortress she had built in order to survive.

Marie, through her own tears of relief helplessly watched the trembling Nicole. Marie turned to Kate for guidance. Kate raised her hand to stay Marie in place. Kate walked over to Nicole, placing herself as sentry between Nicole and the others. Kate knew her role. Nicole’s tears would not be interrupted.

Marie and Nicole approached Beth’s‘ bed in the surgical recovery unit. Nicole allowed Marie first access to Beth.

Marie walked through the unit and to Beth’s bed without hesitation. “Beth.”

Beth smiled at her younger sibling. “Hey.”

“You did good, sis.”

“I wasn’t alone.”

“Makes me proud to be in the medical profession.”

Nicole smiled with a renewed sense of relief. She understood the meaning of Beth’s comment to be far different than Marie’s interpretation.

“I love you.” Marie leaned over and kissed the pale Beth on her forehead.

“I love you, too.” Beth’s low, throaty voice betrayed the lingering effect of the anesthesia and the ongoing effect of the painkillers she had been given.

Marie reined in her greatest concerns. “We can only stay a few minutes. First visit rules. You know the drill. But, I’ll see you after they move you into your room.”

“Okay.” Beth offered a weak smile.

“There is someone else here to see you.” Marie turned toward Nicole. Nicole’s presence had not escaped Beth. Marie stepped away offering complete privacy.

Nicole took Beth’s hand. “Hi.”

“Hi. You look tired.”

“I still haven’t learned to do helpless very well.”

“Tears?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me later?”

“Everything. I promise.” Nicole honored Beth’s deflection of focus away from her own fragile state.

Beth smiled with more conviction. “You’ve changed, Nicole Isabel Thera.”

“Because I love you, Elizabeth Ann Kelly.”

“I’m going to get well.”

“Yes, you are.” Nicole marked a tear falling from Beth’s eye with her fingertips.

Beth leaned her face against Nicole’s hand. “We have more time.”

“Yes, we do.”

Stephen, the attending nurse approached. Nicole looked over to him. She returned her gaze to Beth. “Have to go. I’ll see you later.”

“Nicki?”

Nicole heard a muted plea in Beth’s call. “Yes.”

“In the chapel.” Beth could not continue with her thought because she did not have words to phrase it.

“What about the chapel?”

“Did you like it?”

“Yes. I did.” Nicole waited, expecting more from Beth.

Stephen gently interrupted. “I’m sorry. But there are things I need to do.”

Nicole’s regard for Beth did not waver. “Okay?”

Beth nodded. Nicole kissed her and walked, with Marie by her side, back to the waiting area.

Date: June 5, 2002 Noon

“Hi.” Beth’s entered Nicole’s office in the Elysian Fields.

Nicole looked up from her work. She was surprised to see the still healing Beth. “Hi. What brings you here?”

“Cindy and I are having lunch.”

“You could have brought her up.”

“Connor is keeping an eye on her for me. Can we talk?”

Nicole got up from her desk and went to Beth, giving her a gentle kiss. “Something wrong?”

“I got a call from Liza today. You haven’t been by to visit Jacob.”

Nicole closed her office door. “No, I haven’t.”

“Why?”

“Jacob…I’m not welcomed.” Nicole walked over to the window where she had a view of Jacob’s office.

Beth did not trespass on Nicole’s physical space. “What happened between you two?”

“I hurt him.”

Beth could not imagine Nicole’s offence. “How?”

Nicole turned toward Beth. “The same way I hurt you.”

“How do you hurt me?”

“I challenge your faith.”

Beth implored. “I told you having you in my life has strengthened my faith. After everything that we have gone through this past year how can you doubt me?”

“Jacob said…”

Beth was firm. “If my Christianity and Jacob’s Hebrew faith can’t stand up against your beliefs or any other belief that is different, then it’s not a faith worth having. It’s not a faith at all. Whatever Jacob said to you about me, about us, he was wrong. And the truth is he had no right to interfere.”

“He’s been with me through everything.”

“I know how much you love him, but don’t let that cloud your judgment.” Beth had hoped she would not have to confess Jacob’s truth in spite of being given Liza’s blessing to do so. Nicole was unmoved. “Nicki, Jacob was fighting depression when he spoke to you.”

Nicole shook her head. “Not Jacob.”

Beth took a step toward Nicole. “Liza told me that from the first day she met Jacob he has had episodes of clinical depression. His boyhood was a nightmare. He has never been able to completely leave it behind.”

“But, I’ve known him most of my life and I …”

“You were already dealing with your mother’s mental illness. He didn’t want you to know. The depression didn’t come often, but when it did Liza would lie to you and tell you he was on an extended business trip. There was no reason for you to question her or him.”

Nicole returned her gaze out the window, toward Jacob’s office. “How is he?”

“Better, but he misses you. He doesn’t know how to apologize to you.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

Beth went to Nicole. “We should invite him and Liza over for dinner.”

Nicole took Beth’s hand. “Thank you.”

“I love him, too, you know.”

Beth and Cindy were seated at a window table in The Garden. Beth had just completed giving Cindy a tour of the Fields. “This is Nicole’s? I’m impressed.”

“It’s nice, isn’t it?”

“So, the Elysian Fields is where you two fell in love.”

Beth looked out the window. “I’m not sure exactly where and when that happened. Somewhere between St. Ann’s and here.”

“Have you gone back…to the church?”

“No. I know it’s around the corner, but for me it could be the other side of world. I remember when the Fields burned and I thought Nicki was inside. That was the beginning of the end of my priesthood.”

“What was the end?”

“I’m not there, yet. But, I will be soon.”

“Good afternoon.” Gil approached the table.

“Hi, Gil.”

“Good to see you, Beth. Would you like to order right away?”

“How about giving us a little time. Could I have Chamomile tea to start?”

Cindy completed the order. “And I’ll have coffee.”

“I’ll be back in a minute.”

Beth smiled as she watched Gil leave. Many of Nicole’s employees returned to the Fields when it reopened. The continuity was comforting.

Cindy began. “Now, you said over the phone there was something you wanted to talk about.”

Beth returned her attention to her friend. “Yes, there is… Nicki and I stopped at the hospital chapel before I was admitted. I saw something there that I’ve never seen before.”

Cindy was attentive. “What?”

“Nicki. When I finished my prayers I turned to see her standing in the back. She had her hands together in front of her, her head was bowed and her eyes were closed. Cindy, I still can’t explain how I felt in seeing her that way. She was so still. She was at peace. She wasn’t searching. She found what she was looking for, if only for a moment. Since then I’ve tried to remember other times that have come close to that moment. I remember coming home and finding her sitting alone in front of the fireplace mesmerized by the flames. I’m sure there have been more, I just couldn’t see them for what they were.”

“What were they?”

“Nicki reminded me that the Episcopal Catechism describes prayer as responding to our creator by thought and deed, with or without words. Nicki was praying. I fought her when she tried to describe prayer in her own terms. Because what prayer means to me is different than what it means to her.”

Cindy understood Beth’s struggle. “I sometimes feel the Unitarian Universalist’s diversity is both a blessing and a curse. The blessing is to see all the traditions included in our circle of faith. For me the flame of our symbol, the chalice, is hope eternal that one day our faiths will live in peace. The curse is that it’s difficult to find a mode of worship that is meaningful to everyone who comes to us. And then there are seekers like Nicole who don’t fit any of the labels we offer: humanist, deist, theist or whatever. She is just there with her beliefs and there is no denying that they are profoundly sacred to her. From what you’ve told me, I wonder if Nicole wasn’t born two centuries too early. I can see her as a desert Mother searching for that elusive wisdom.”

“That’s how I’ve described her to you?”

“Of course. Her need for solitude, her knowledge of myth, religion and philosophy, her insatiable search for meaning in life. There has to be a source to her strength. Her illness. The fire. September 11th and the death of her friend. Your illness. She didn’t lose faith in the world during all that time. Just one of those things could have taken someone down.”

“Nicki’s not invincible.”

“Exactly. She’s tapped into something that she can’t describe to our satisfaction but that to her is no less the source of her belief in life than God is to us. We get jaded because we live in a country that is founded on the Judaic-Christian tradition. I guarantee you our view of faith would be different if we spent any amount of time in the East or Africa.”

Date: June 5, 2002 P.M.

Nicole sat on a bench outside the Fields, waiting for Jacob. She was determined, if necessary, to spend the balance of the day in her silent call to him. Jacob could not hide from her. Nicole smiled to herself. She knew Liza would give Jacob only so much latitude before she threw him out into the street. It was a good forty minutes before the door opened and Jacob stepped out onto the sidewalk. He looked to his left and his right. Nicole wondered whether he was weighing potential escape routes. To Nicole’s advantage there was no escaping Liza. He turned his gaze to her. Somber in countenance, he slowly made his way to Nicole. Nicole kept a close watch. Jacob did not seem too concerned about traffic. Nicole restrained every impulse to chaperon his crossing. Jacob stepped up to the sidewalk and stood before her. Nicole offered a warm smile. Jacob took his seat beside her. Nervously, he pulled his tobacco case and pipe from his pocket.

Nicole kept her eyes forward. “I’m having a birthday party for Beth at The Pub. It would mean a great deal to her if you and Liza came.”

Jacob kept his eyes down, focused upon his tobacco case. “How is she?”

“Good. She’s looking forward to starting school in September.”

“Thank God.”

Nicole smiled hopefully.

“I didn’t know she was ill. If I had, I would have gone to see her.”

“I know. I should have gotten word to you. Liza explained everything to Beth….I’m sorry you felt you had to keep the truth from me.”

Jacob raised his eyes. “Your mother. She caused you such pain. I did not want you to fear that I would do the same. God forgive me for what I said to you.”

Nicole looked over to him. “I don’t know about God, but I don’t think there’s anything to forgive.”

Jacob turned to her. “Nicole. What I said was a lie. I blamed you for my loss of faith. That was not right.”

“You were ill.”

“Tell me I did not hurt you.”

“You hurt me as deeply as anyone could.”

Jacob sighed sadly and dropped his eyes back down to his hands.

“I forgive you for wrongly believing you were fighting to save Beth’s soul and maybe even my own.” Nicole took Jacob’s hand. “Understand me, you old Jew. You will have your Day of Atonement. God gave you that day for a reason. But in the meantime you have to accept the fact that the hurt never stopped me from loving you. I will always sit on this bench and wait for you to come to me because I know that you will always come to me because you have always come to me. I know every time you cross that street it is an act of love. I know that nothing I’ve done in the past or will do in the future will change your love for me.”

A tear traveled down Jacob’s cheek. Nicole gave the blessed man’s hand a squeeze. She waited for him to compose himself.

“Nicole.”

“Yes, Jacob.”

“I like your ring.”

“So do I.” Nicole’s relief was tangible.

Jacob looked up to Nicole. “Was Beth pleased?”

“Yes.”

“What did you say to her during the ceremony?”

“I recited a poem by Jones Very.”

“And what did she say to you?”

“Verses from Song of Songs.”

“It was a good thing you did.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“Are you happy, Nicole?”

“Yes. It’s a good life, Jacob.”

“I sometimes forget.”

“Sometimes it’s hard to remember.”

“It is a gift - life.”

“The grace of life.”

“Yes Nicole, it is your grace of life.”

They fell into a gentle silence. Still holding hands they watched the neighborhood’s movement.

“Jacob. How do you get through the darkness when it comes?”

“The darkness. I don’t see that the darkness is with me until it is too late. Until God is lost to me, and Liza is a faint presence calling me to her. Liza takes care of me. My doctors are good. They listen. They prescribe medicine to help me. They all stand by me until I can see the light again. If it wasn’t for them, I would give up. I would fall asleep praying never to wake again.”

“Like my mother.”

“I would watch your mother in fear that the day would come that Liza could not reach me and bring me back to her. And I know Liza watched with the fear that I would slip away from her embrace never to return. My Liza’s greatest fear was that like you, no matter how hard she tried to save a life she loved, she would have to live with the sorrow of losing that life. It is a sorrow you know too well.”

Nicole looked across the street where she knew Liza was working. She never realized the bond they shared. “I would like to talk to Liza about my sorrow, if that would be all right with you?”

“Yes.” Jacob patted Nicole’s hand. “I believe she would welcome you with open arms.”

“Jacob. There is no other way for Liza.”

“You are right. She and Beth have that in common.”

Date: June 5, 2002 Evening

Beth sat in one of the two tall back chairs in the den. Only the portrait was illuminated. Beth’s private visits to the den were always driven by an ardent need to feel closer to Nicole. Until this day, to her all that was Nicole could be found in the den. Her computer and files represented her work, her books - her passion for ideas and the portrait - her love. Beth searched for the Nicole she saw standing in the chapel. She could not find her.

Beth traveled back in time to the first conversation between she, Nicole and Jacob. She remembered Nicole’s rebuttal to being called an atheist by Jacob, her assertion that she did not define the divine by his standards. Beth remembered the conversation she enjoyed with Nicole after attending a lecture at UC. Nicole shared her definition of theology as making meaning out of life, as finding the divine in the God-forsaken corners of the world. Beth remembered being in Nicole’s loft and asking her why she read the Classics. For Nicole the Classics were a means to find her self. Beth remembered finding Nicole sitting by the fire, seeing eternity within its flames. She remembered how Nicole described having a temenos in her life. Beth remembered Nicole’s attempt to link her faith with the Episcopal Catechism, an attempt to stand on the same side of the moon with Beth. Beth remembered how Nicole wore her cross and ring until she could return them to her. Beth remembered how her cross fell comfortably beside Nicole’s Celtic pendant.

Beth remembered her confrontation with Nicole outside her rooms at St. Ann when Nicole confessed she did not understand what Beth was feeling and begged Beth to help her understand. Beth touched her cross and remembered the night in Boston when Nicole returned the cross to its rightful place around her neck. It was on that night that Nicole expressed her admiration for Beth’s faith, acknowledging its place in Beth’s life.

Beth remembered the day Jacob visited her at St. Ann’s challenging her on whether she knew what Nicole believed or only what Nicole did not believe. It was then that she learned Nicole’s tenet, revolving around grace, humility goodness, and acceptance

The Nicole who stood New Year’s Eve in the plaza touching the ineffable, oblivious to the frigid night; the Nicole who sat alone in her den struggling to reconcile her commitment to never hurt a child as she had been hurt, with her newly surfaced unerring impulse to safeguard a child within her arms and see the child prosper to maturity, the Nicole who stood within the walls of the chapel in silent contemplation was a woman of faith, deep abiding faith.

What humbled Beth was that Nicole held her faith without feeling compelled to belittle the faiths of others. Nicole did her utmost to respect what lay at the core of all traditions. Nicole was uncompromising, but only in her effort to bring to the forefront the truth of tradition. She spoke with such brutal frankness and knowledge that it hurt, because the truth hurt. So, Nicole saw Jesus of Nazareth as portrayed in the Gospel of Mark, the very human Jesus who called out to his God in spiritual torment, begging to understand why he had been forsaken. Nicole demanded the recognition that the Church and the faith are not necessarily one. She sourced the Anglican thirty-nine Articles of Religion and used them to argue her point that the content of much of Protestant theology was fundamentally similar and points of diversion were more a matter of form. Nicole did all this and still honored the cross, still gifted the chalice, still was willing to bend to her knees as Beth’s companion.

Against Jerry’s derision, Beth had cause to defend Nicole as a woman of faith. Her defense was one isolated event, removed from Nicole. Beth was ashamed to admit she never affirmed Nicole’s faith to Nicole with the same conviction Nicole had affirmed Beth’s to her. Beth was ashamed of her failure to acknowledge that Nicole lived and breathed her faith in all that she did and that in doing so no distinction could be made between her and Beth, who was sworn to live her life in Christ.

Having arrived home, Nicole sought Beth out. She was surprised to find her in the den. Nicole wordlessly sat opposite Beth, her eyes followed Beth’s gaze to the portrait. Nicole interrupted the silence after allowing a few moments to pass. “You haven’t visited here recently.”

“I have. When you’re not home. I come here when I want to feel closer to you.”

Nicole was concerned. “Have I been far away?”

“I have a confession to make about your Celtic pendant.”

“That it’s a vesica piscis.”

“You knew?”

“I liked the idea that you might see your faith in me.”

“How do you do that?”

“What?”

“How do you tolerate being set aside? You never discounted me, but I’ve discounted you. You gave me the chalice.”

“And you gave me the pendant.”

“I gave you the vesica piscis. The Pagan Celtic symbol was a pretense.”

“It’s a part of you that I share. It’s a symbol of our similarities.”

“But I didn’t give it to you for that reason.”

“It’s how I accepted it.”

“Can you honestly tell me that why I gave you the pendant doesn’t matter to you?”

“You gave it to me because you love me.” Nicole could not believe that within a handful of hours two of the three most important people in her life had broached the same subject. “Beth, you once told me that even when you are with people who live their lives without an apparent presence of God, you still see God in them, even if they don’t. I’ve always taken comfort that, as exasperating as I can be to you, you have never stopped seeing me in the light of your faith.”

“I’ve disappointed you. I know I have.”

“I’m not easy.”

“Cindy asked me if there was any book that came close to scripture for you. I told her I didn’t know. I didn’t know because I’ve never asked you.”

“I don’t. Feel better?”

“No. I have never tried to see the world through your eyes. We always begin with Christianity, never the Greeks.”

“It’s easier for me if a set a point of reference, so I say the Greeks. Remember my conversation with Jerry on voluntary death?.”

“Hard to forget.”

“Do you remember how I went from one philosopher to another to another. There wasn’t agreement. The one thing they shared was their search. They wanted to understand the world and they sought it through knowledge with the ultimate hope of achieving wisdom. Beth, look at my library. My faith is woven into all those words and more. My faith is defined and redefined by each passing day as I experience life. So is yours. The difference is you approach life from the base of Christianity and I don’t.”

Beth turned her eyes from the library back to Nicole. “I’ve seen you pray.”

“Have you?”

“Yes. More than once.”

Nicole was intrigued. “And who have I prayed to?”

“The divine.”

“How do you know this?”

“You told me. You respond by thought and by deed, with and without words, to your divine.”

Nicole was pleased. “Yes, I do.”

“You experience life as a grace.”

“I try to.”

“And you try to live your life in humility.”

Nicole nodded.

“And what is most important to you is the good. To be good and to find the good in others no matter how hard that can be - even if you are facing the men who killed Carrie.”

The mention of Carrie was still difficult. Nicole’s voice was pained. “Yes.”

“I have learned so much from you.”

“And you’ve been one of my best teachers.”

“How can you say that?”

“Because it’s true. When you got ill, Kate reminded me of who I had been in the past. She told me what she saw in me now. I have changed. I didn’t change because I read one more book, not even Carrie’s book was that powerful. I changed because I saw something in you I couldn’t explain. I still can’t explain what I see in you. It is my divine, as I knew it before I met you, and more. It was strong enough to break open my heart so I would love again. It was strong enough to feed my courage to take risks I never thought I would ever take. When I am with you, I feel like I’m standing in the eye of a storm, in the midst of eternity. And even though it can be at times terrifying, I’m in a place of calm.”

Date: July 6, 2002

The friends sat around a large pub table. Invitees included Kate, Jacob, Liza, the Musketeers and their dates, Pam, Tom and many of Beth’s CPE peers and their partners and dates. Beth picked up Kate’s card next. She opened it to a caricature of a stork with a baby hanging on a cloth swing held by its beak. Beth opened the card.

Dear Beth,

Wishing you a happy birthday. My gift to you is yours to redeem at your pleasure - no expiration date. It will be my privilege to provide free legal services toward the adoption of your child.

Love,

Kate

Beth raised her eyes toward the uncertain attorney, sitting across the table from her. Beth got to her feet and went to Kate. Kate stood up to meet her. Beth took Kate into a warm embrace. She did not let go.

“Hey!” Nicole called out having observed the exchange. “What on earth could she have written to deserve that?”

Still holding Beth, Kate looked over to Nicole. “None of your damn business. What’s the matter, you jealous?”

“In your dreams.”

Beth slowly released Kate. She waited for Kate, now far more relaxed, to meet her gaze. “Thank you.” Beth turned, keeping one arm around Nicole’s best friend. She spoke to Nicole. “We’ll talk later.”

Kate challenged. “By the way. What did you give Beth?”

Nicole shrugged. “She got her present on Christmas Day.”

Beth looked up to Kate. “We’re going to Ireland.”

“Show off!”

With their friends gone home, Beth rested against Nicole in one of pub booths. Beth held their plane tickets in hand. “I never thought you’d take time off.”

“There’s a new kind of normal out in the world. I needed to help my clients get on good footing to deal with it.”

“With my fellowship, money isn’t a big issue for me. Nicki? There is something Brian said at the Fields grand opening. He said you were rethinking your career.”

“He did?”

“Yes, he did. What do you want to do?”

“I want to slow down.”

“Could the Fields be enough?”

“Do you want me to stop consulting?”

“I want you to be happy and I don’t want you to think we can’t step down our lifestyle.”

Nicole smiled sheepishly.

“What?”

“Beth. We’re living at a fraction of what I can afford, especially since you’ve been working at the hospital. Now with your fellowship that’s not going to change.”

“I didn’t realize. If we’re doing so well why are you working so hard?”

“Because I’m good at what I do.”

“But that doesn’t mean…”

“You’re right.” Nicole did not need to hear Beth’s argument to concede to her position.

Beth gave Nicole a suspicious glance.

Nicole laughed. “I love you.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“Jason has made me an offer. Actually two offers.”

“What are they?”

“The first is to buy The Elysian Fields.”

“You would sell?”

“I never really wanted to rebuild.”

“Why not?”

“Because it was the past and I wanted the future.” Nicole touched the oak table in front of her. “Sitting here, I’m happy I did rebuild. I forgot I like being a bar owner.”

“The Fields is not just a bar.” Beth could not hide her own preference. “So, you’re not going to sell?”

“It’s staying in the family.”

“What was Jason’s second offer?”

“An office at Chamberlain Development.”

“You would work for him?”

“Not exactly. He wants to retire soon and spend more time with Katherine. Alex is an excellent project manager. That’s what he enjoys. He doesn’t want to take over the management of the company. Laura is a rising star in urban architecture and Jason knows she wants and deserves more authority in choosing her work. So Jason would sell Chamberlain to the three of us.”

“Do you want to be a developer?”

“Saying yes would mean that I would be one of the three making the final decisions. I wouldn’t be spending my time trying to convince top management that good business means not losing sight of the people in their organization, their customers and the public in general. It would mean that I could work to revitalize other marginalized neighborhoods. And it would mean, that for the most part, I would be coming home to you every night. I told Jason I would talk to you and that I would give him my decision after we return from Ireland.”

Date: July 23, 2002

Hand in hand, Beth and Nicole approached the Bishop’s office. Beth paused. “Would you rather wait here or inside?”

“Here is good.”

“It won’t take long.” Beth slipped her hand free.

Nicole kept an unwavering watch upon Beth until Beth disappeared through the large entrance door. Nicole understood that Beth needed to complete her task alone. Nicole was torn for she wanted to stand beside Beth, but she also felt relief in not having to witness Beth’s renunciation. There was no loving Beth without the desire to safeguard her spirit.

Beth was guided into the Bishop’s office. Bishop Stratford awaited her. David and Reverend Monica Parker stood with him. The Bishop approached Beth, offering her his hand. “Beth.”

“Bishop Stratford.”

“I hope your recovery has been going well.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Is Nicole with you?”

Beth felt Nicole was indeed with her. “She’s waiting for me outside.”

“I’m sorry it has to be this way.”

“I know you are. Thank you again for your patience and understanding.”

The Bishop turned toward David. “I believe you two know each other.”

David stepped up to his former Associate Pastor. “Hello.”

Beth embraced David. “Thank you for being here.”

“I hope Nicole realizes what you have given up for her.”

“David. I’m not doing this for Nicki.”

“Then, it’s the right decision.” David released Beth.

Rev. Parker offered her hand. “Rev. Kelly, I am Rev. Monica Parker.”

Beth took Rev. Parker’s hand. “Thank you for acting as a witness.”

Rev. Parker nodded. It was difficult to know what to say.

Bishop Stratford took his place in the open space of his expansive office. With the motion of his hand he directed David to his left and Rev. Parker to his right. Beth approached and stood before her Bishop.

The Bishop allowed a moment for all to settle in their place. He bowed his head slightly. All others followed suit. “May we act with wisdom, mercy and compassion, through our Lord, Jesus Christ. Amen.”

“Amen”

“Reverend Kelly, please proceed.”

Beth handed the Bishop a letter. She spoke with a steady voice, one that conveyed her conviction. “I, Reverend Elizabeth Ann Kelly, declare in writing to the Ecclesiastical Authority of the Diocese of Chicago, my renunciation of the ordained ministry of this Church and my desire to be removed therefrom.”

Bishop Stratford opened the letter and read it. He closed the letter and took a long look at Beth. He then completed the Declaration of Removal.

“I, Bishop James Stratford, Bishop of the Diocese of Chicago, in accordance with Title III Canon 18 of the Constitution and Canons of the Episcopal Church of the United States of America, am satisfied that the resignation and renunciation of the ministry by Reverend Elizabeth Ann Kelly is a voluntary act, and for causes assigned or known, which do not affect her moral character. With the advise and consent of the Standing Committee of the Diocese of Chicago, as of this date, I do accept the resignation and renunciation of the ministry of the Church as made to me in writing on this date by Reverend Kelly.”

“Reverend Kelly is, therefore, deposed from the ministry, released from its obligations, and deprived of the right to exercise the gifts and spiritual authority as a Minister of God’s Word and Sacraments conferred in Ordination. This sentence is pronounced in the presence of two presbyters of the Diocese of Chicago.”

Beth walked out into the fresh air. Her renunciation marked an ending. It also marked a new beginning. She had not left Christianity. She knew there was a Christian church in her future, one that would welcome her without asking her to deny a part of her self. With appropriate preparation, she would be ordained again.

Beth saw Nicole sitting on the stairs across the grounds. Nicole turned her head and caught Beth’s gaze. Nicole stood up and waited. The image of Nicole moved Beth. Beth could see the elegance of Nicole’s spirit. Beth recalled the woman she met nearly two years prior. Contrary to Beth’s original impression of the rebel, Nicole, by her unwavering vision of life as a grace to be cherished, gave Beth hope that she could, like Nicole, experience the beauty of life in its greatest depth and breadth.

It was a hope that had slipped away from her when, as a teenager, she began to understand her mother’s legacy. From that moment of understanding, for Beth, the finite nature of individual human existence became her constant companion. Her companion restrained all desire for more than a life of giving. To have more only to have it taken from her in her youth was beyond Beth’s strength, as she stood alone. It was not, however, beyond her strength as she stood beside Nicole. Once again, Jacob’s words rang true. Like him she did need ‘a little more help than others’ to know God’s love. And what was it, if not God’s love, that Nicole reflected?

Still, her companion, the knowledge of the finite, returned to her and demanded its due. She gave it. To her surprise, the price paid was not what she expected. The early call to God did not come. But a mature life would not be hers without a price. Though her surgery excised her cancer, it also excised her ability to bear a child. Her mother’s legacy to her would end with her. Though her loss took residence in Beth’s heart, she consoled herself with the knowledge that there would be no opportunity for her daughter to share her fear. Beth’s loss pressed within her heart along with the other losses of her life, including the loss she experienced on this day.

As much as Beth experienced what to her were the inevitable losses subscribed to humanity, she held to her faith. To be with Nicole was to live life with a promise of a future. Nicole’s illness had been a not-too-subtle confirmation that the finite touches others young. To be with Nicole was to have the privilege of intimately sharing the knowledge of the finite with her life partner. And Beth was beginning to understand that if she opened her self to a different form of expression, she could also share with Nicole the knowledge of the infinite.

Beth took one step after another toward her future. It was still a fragile future for both she and Nicole, but it was a future that she would not deny. With each step she felt the love of God. Through all the trials in her life she had never been alone. She would never be alone. And if the day came that she once again doubted, she would look to Nicole to remind her of the perfect love of God. And if the day came that Nicole was not with her, she would simply remember one glance, one word, one touch Nicole had given her, and once again God’s perfect love would be hers.

The End.

*****

Copyright (c) 2002 by Maytee Aspuro

Comments always encouraged and appreciated. Mayt@aol.com

Notes:

Sources:

Pam’s opening statement in Beth and Nicole’s union ceremony: Untitled by Peter Raible (modified)

Nicole’s poem in union ceremony: “Today” by Jones Very

Beth’s poem in union ceremony: The Hebrew Bible/Old Testament, Song of Songs/Song of Solomon 7: 10-8:3 (modified) Revised Standard Version

Acknowledgement:

Special thank you to the Rt. Rev. Roger White, Bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of Milwaukee for information regarding the “Sentence of Deposition upon the Renunciation of the Ministry.”

Regarding Religious Beliefs Dramatized:

I have great respect for the Christian faith and for all denominations within the faith that in spirit stride to live a life in Christ. It was my goal to accurately articulate the religious beliefs portrayed in the novel. I apologize, if in the opinion of a reader, I have failed to do justice to any specific doctrine.