LOVING THE UNLOVELY

Chapter Eight:  The Truth

by Tricia K. Brown

“G is pregnant,” Hos whispered to himself. “G is pregnant,” he said a little bit louder. “We’re going to have a baby!” he shouted across the empty sanctuary.

She had broken the news to him over breakfast. She seemed stunned, almost confused; he could hardly believe it himself.

Obviously, he knew it might happen, at some point.

In the beginning, Hos had considered birth control measures, mainly because of his fear of STDs, but once again, he felt the Lord’s leading. Somehow, he felt as if the mere mention of it would be a betrayal to G, a distrust, a reminder of her past. So, after several few months, as the marriage bed became less tentative and more routine, the idea of contraception simply had not been discussed.

Looking out across the empty pews, he grinned. He couldn’t help it. He was having a baby! He was going to be father. Hos slowly turned and faced the altar; he bowed his head and gave thanks.

G’s pregnancy was rather uneventful. She wore the extra weight beautifully, and, to Hos, she had never been more attractive. Thankfully, G’s pregnancy seemed to endear her more to the ladies of the church.

“Perhaps now,” Hos thought, “they will see her as a friend and not a threat.”

God gave them a son, and they named him Jessie. The older women doted on G and the baby, and the younger women brought them meals. And they were happy, the three of them, together in their tiny apartment above the church.

But, even in the midst of his happiness, Hos could feel God’s displeasure with the church.

After all these years, Hos couldn’t understand it. The same people he saw on Sunday, sitting in the pews, were the same people leaving the liquor store on Monday. The same teenagers who seemed to listen intently to his sermons were the very ones who had the worst reputations for sleeping around. There were rumors of affairs. There were allegations of abuse. Last week, one of his congregants had even been arrested for theft. Worst of all was the complacency. It all seemed to be so commonplace. Sinfulness was expected and accepted here. It broke Hos’s heart, and he knew it broke God’s even more.

So, Hos continued to pray and to preach.

Two more pregnancies and two more babies came, in quick succession—a girl and another boy. Hos was elated with his little family. He loved to look down from the pulpit and see his wife holding baby Rob, with little Jessie and Amy on either side of her.

“G plays the part well,” he thought one day.

And the thought bothered him. Why would he think that? Surely, she wasn’t just playing a part. After all, she never seemed to mind that her life and the lives of her family were put on the pulpit for the world to see.  She had was a preacher’s wife now, much more ladylike and a lot less working girl. So, why then, could Hos not shake this uneasy feeling. 

It was the people. He knew they were talking behind his back.  It wasn’t something he could put his finger on. He could just feel it in the stares.  He could hear it in the whispers.  It seemed to have started when Rob was born, or had it been with Amy? 

Then one day, he knew.  He didn’t mean to eavesdrop; they just didn’t see him coming, walking down the street to where they stood in front of Piggly Wiggly.

“He doesn’t know!” said Mrs. Sullivan, louder than she imagined. “It’s so sad; those last two probably aren’t even his!. Of course, we all knew this would happen. That’s just the kind of woman that she is. Oh, poor Pastor Hos.  She truly is a tramp at heart, that’s all I’ve got to say.”

Hos had already turned his back to leave when she looked up.  He heard her gasp. “I’m sorry, Pastor Hos! I’m sorry,” he heard her yell as he stormed up the steps to the church and slammed the door behind him.

He tried to pray. The words stumbling from his mouth. “God, what am I supposed to do with these people?” he cried. “They are useless, horrible. They refuse to listen. They refuse to obey. I am hurt, Lord. To hear rumors like that, gossip, senseless gossip. G will be so hurt when she finds out. Why would she say those things?”

After a few minutes, he stopped ranting. He sucked in shallow breaths through his sobs. He listened for the Lord’s voice, for comfort, for guidance. He was met, instead, with silence, and a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Questions began to race through his head. Moments appeared like images on an old projector reel, playing across his mind.

“Why has G been so distant lately?

Where has she been going while the children were at Mother’s Day out?

What was it that he had noticed the other day, when he returned from hospital visitation? A smell? A scent? A man’s cologne?”

She had looked so made-up the other day. He noticed the lipstick, a little more eye make-up than normal. He thought, maybe, it was all for him. He had found a receipt for a nighty she had purchased. He had been waiting for her to surprise him. Instead, she wore a long-sleeved t-shirt to bed. In fact, she had been wearing long sleeves a lot lately.

“I’m just cold,” she told him.

“She’s cold, all right,” he muttered to himself now, “and uninterested, tired.”

How long had it been? Since before Rob had been born?”

“It’s natural,” he had tried to reassure himself. “She has three littles to care for. Her desire will return. Be patient, Hos.”

Now, he wasn’t so sure. Hos did not feel comforted. He did not feel at peace. He rubbed the tears from his face with clenched fists and pushed himself up from the floor.

It was time to find G.