Gus put a finger to his lips, got up from the table, went to the heating duct that ran to my father’s office, and pulled out the rags. Very clearly we heard my father say, “Why, good evening. What a pleasant surprise.”
“May we come in, Reverend?”
I recognized the voice. It was Edna Sweeney whose amazing underwear Jake and I had admired on the line in her backyard the day Bobby Cole was buried.
“Of course, of course,” my father said. “How are you, Avis?”
Though he replied “Fair to middlin’,” Avis Sweeney didn’t sound so good.
“Please, sit down.”
Gus stuffed the rags back into the duct and said quietly, “Going to see a man about a horse,” and he headed to the bathroom. Above us chairs scraped the bare wood floor. Doyle put down his cards and got up from the table and went to the duct and removed the rags.
My father said, “What can I do for you folks?”
Quiet followed and then Edna Sweeney said, “You counsel married couples, right?”
“I do under certain circumstances.”
“We need to talk to you about a marital problem, Reverend.”
“What sort of problem?”
Another quiet and I heard Avis cough.
“We need to talk about our sexual intimacy,” Edna Sweeney said.
“I see.” My father spoke with the same calm he might have employed if Edna had said, “We need to talk to you about prayer.”
I thought I should do something. I thought I should go over and grab the rags from Doyle’s hand and stuff them back into the duct but I was a boy in the company of men and afraid to cross them.
“I mean,” Edna Sweeney went on, “we need some marital advice about sex. In a Christian way.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” my father said.
“It’s just this. Avis and me we don’t always see eye to eye about our physical relationship. The truth, Reverend, is that I want intimacy more often than Avis seems prepared to offer it. And Avis thinks that somehow my desire is an abnormality. That’s the word he used. Abnormality. Like I’m a freak or something.” Edna Sweeney had started the discussion in a moderate tone but her voice had rapidly intensified, especially when she spoke that final statement.
Doyle shoved the rags back into the duct momentarily and whispered to the others, “If my ex had been that eager I’d still be married.” The others stifled laughs and Doyle once again removed the rags.
“I see,” my father said. “And, Avis, would you like to say something?”
“Yes, Reverend. I work hard at the grain elevator all day and I come home beat like a rug. I drag my ass—excuse me—I come in the house and there’s Edna all hot to trot when I ain’t got but two thoughts on my mind and that’s a cold beer and putting my feet up. I think she expects I’ll perform like a trained dog or something.”
I imagined Avis Sweeney sitting there, toothpick thin, his big Adam’s apple bouncing up and down as if riding a pogo stick. Maybe the druggist imagined it too because he laughed quietly and shook his head. I knew we shouldn’t be listening and I thought that if Gus were there he would have stopped them. I knew if not Gus then the responsibility should have fallen to me but the truth was that I wasn’t just afraid of saying something to the men, I was also fascinated with the discussion taking place in my father’s office and so I held my tongue.
“Just a little affection, Avis,” Edna Sweeney said. “That’s all I’m asking.”
“No, Edna, you’re asking for a pony can do a trick when you snap your fingers. That ain’t me, woman. Now, Reverend, understand I’m as interested as the next guy but Edna she comes on like a she-bear in heat.”
“There are men who’d value that in a woman,” Edna shot back.
“Well, you ain’t married to one.”
“Well, I wish to God I was.”
“All right,” my father said calmly. He allowed a few moments of judicious silence to pass, then said, “The physical intimacy between a man and a woman is a delicate balance of needs and temperaments, and seldom do all the elements align easily. Edna, are you hearing Avis? He’s asking for a little time to relax at the end of a hard day before you engage in lovemaking.”
“Relax? Hell, Reverend, he drinks his beer and nods off and he’s no good to me then.”
“Avis, instead of a beer how about a glass of iced tea?”
“Sometimes, Reverend, when I’m slaving away in the hot afternoon sun, all that gets me through the day is the idea of that cold beer sitting in the fridge with my name wrote all over it.”
Edna Sweeney said, “And some men would be thinking about what’s waiting for them in bed.”
“We been married thirteen years, Edna. Believe me, there ain’t no surprises waitin’ for me in bed.”
“Thirteen years,” my father said. “That’s quite a history together. Tell me how you met.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?” Avis Sweeney said.
“We met at a picnic,” Edna said. “Out at Luther Park. I knew some of the people Avis works with and they invited us both. Kind of a setup, although we didn’t know it.”
“What attracted you to Avis?”
“Heck, he was so damn cute and kind of cocky. And we ended up talking while the others played softball, and at the end of the evening, when we were all getting ready to leave, he opened the car door for me. Like a real gentleman.” Edna Sweeney stopped talking for a few moments and when she began again I could hear that her voice was choked. “And I looked into his eyes, Reverend, and I saw a kindness there that I hadn’t seen in other men.”
“That’s lovely, Edna. Avis, what made you fall in love?”
“Hell, I don’t know.”
“Take your time.”
“Well. She was a damn fine looking woman. And she didn’t talk a lot of nonsense. I remember she talked about her family and especially about her mother, who was sickly. And I could tell she had a lot of heart to her. And then I got sick, too. Came down with a bad flu, and there she was every day on my doorstep with some kind of soup she’d made. She’s a real good cook, Reverend.”
“So I’ve heard, Avis. It’s clear to me that you love each other and, as long as you have that love, everything else can be worked through. I’ll tell you what. I have a good friend. His name is Jerry Stowe. He’s also clergy but he specializes in counseling couples who are having difficulty with the physical intimacy in their relationship. He’s very good and I’m sure he could help you. Would you be willing to let me talk to him and set up a counseling session for you?”