Praying Woman by Marsha Carter

Author:Marsha Carter [Carter, Marsha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Fiction, Female Friendship, Contemporary Women's Fiction, self-discovery
ISBN: 9781601740489
Publisher: Uncial Press
Published: 2008-01-18T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

The sun had dropped in the late afternoon, grazing the table with shadows, and I only saw Jeff's profile.

"Don't pray for me, Emma," he repeated studying our intertwined hands.

"Why not?" I asked.

He flushed a warning as he pulled away. "There is a reason."

"What reason?" I gasped, shaken by his move.

"I don't need it. I don't want it." He was speaking to someone I didn't see. "Because no one is defined by only one thing they know how to do, or one memory from the past." He glanced out the window, "Just like Vietnam isn't everything I am. I could hold on to it, but I don't. I walked away from that mess because you have to walk away or you'll gnaw on yourself for the rest of your life."

He was lying, because I watched his face when he talked about Jack and it could have been thirty years ago or yesterday. I said gently, "I am a person who prays."

Jeff rose in a swoop, "Don't pray for me."

"Why?" I was sure that our day was ending here; that he would walk out of the door ahead of me and drive me home in silence; sure that the stories he told were true, but the ones he didn't tell might be truer.

His face changed then, quicksilver, into being so young I wanted to wrap his head in my arms.

"Because I asked you not to."

There is no way around a true request. People can say they didn't hear you or that they misunderstood you, or decide that you offended them, but these responses are just noise against your clear right to ask. Jeff had asked.

"I won't pray for you," I agreed.

He sighed and moved back to the table. "Do you still like me enough to take a walk with me?"

Yes I did. I liked the man who kept that boy inside, protecting him, not wisely, but with all his broken heart.

Old paths in the hills wind through wild berry bushes and sparse trees, leading to deeper forests closer to the top. We walked holding hands, trading things easy to share.

Fresh back from Vietnam, Jeff thought starting a family was the same as starting over, so he had married, then divorced, and now had a son in college.

"Do you see your son?" I asked.

"Oh, yes." He shrugged off the question. "We had joint custody, so my ex and I shared his teenage years."

Jeff winked at me. "We call those the Palestinian Years. It's one of the few things we agree on."

"And your ex-wife?"

"Smarter than I gave her credit for." He picked up a stick and bent back sapling branches at my shoulder. "I didn't know that when we were married, but I found out after we split."

"Then why didn't you try again with her?" I walked behind, watching him ripple through sunlight and leaves.

He squinted back at me, "It's never good to go back. Once you walk away, you shouldn't go back."

Too simple for me, I thought, but I had memories I wanted back.

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