“Yep. He’s their shining star.” The waiter refilled their water cups and left.
Soon the waiter came back with their order. “Are you new in town?” He slid a plate in front of each of them.
“We’re just visiting.” Marilyn smiled at the kid.
“We get that a lot. From somewhere nearby?”
Marilyn laughed. “We’re from a tiny town in Wisconsin that no one has ever heard of.”
“Try me.”
Boy, this kid was really working for his tip.
Marilyn was only too happy to fill him in. “It’s called Sunset Falls. We moved there five years ago when—”
Bob had had enough. “Honey, he doesn’t need to know our whole story.”
Marilyn smiled at the waiter again. “Anyway. That’s where we’re from.”
Bob breathed a deep sigh when the kid finally made his way to the next table. “I’d prefer we don’t talk about the church this week.”
Across from him, Marilyn’s brow creased. “O-kay.” She drew the word out. “I guess we’re on vacation from all that.”
“Exactly.” He took a bite of the Reuben, and the conversation died off.
Yeah. Maybe he could’ve handled that better. But somehow, having Marilyn tell the waiter he was a pastor made him feel trapped in a way he didn’t understand, let alone have a clue how to explain. Add it to the list of things he needed to talk to Marilyn about. If he could ever find the words.
He laid a twenty on the table for their bill and held Marilyn’s coat as she slipped her arms into the sleeves, then they made their silent way to the car.
The sky had darkened to a velvet blue by the time they arrived at the Wild Harbor Trading Post. Bob parked his CR-V next to a passenger van emblazoned with the Wild Harbor logo in the parking lot. A small crowd, around a dozen people, had gathered near the front door. A young man in a heavy coat came out of the building and stood on the stoop.
“I’m Darren. I’ll be your guide tonight. In just a few minutes, we’ll get in the van. The trailhead is only a couple of miles from here. There will be others who meet us there as well.” Darren ran through a demonstration of how to use the simplified snowshoes. “You’re all going to have a great time.”
As promised, a few minutes later they all climbed into the Wild Harbor van. Darren got behind the wheel. “When we get there, we don’t need to stay together as a group. Everyone can proceed at their own pace. Wild Harbor will be sending a van out every hour or so for pickups. The trail is well marked, and a few area businesses have sponsored break stations along the way. Please don’t go off the path. You will be on a trail that winds back around to where you start.”
They drove into a parking lot and piled out of the van. Darren fitted them with snowshoes and sent them off with a wave.
Soon the group had fanned out along the trail. Next to him, Marilyn giggled as she took wide, waddling steps. The snowshoes were strange on Bob’s feet until he fell into a rhythm. It was simply a matter of keeping his legs slightly wider apart than normal and picking his feet up a little higher.
After a while he even stopped concentrating on his feet.
They moved along the trail in silence. Around them, the tree branches brushed together in a gentle whoosh, filling the air with their own kind of music. The candles flickered in their ice domes. Ahead, he saw more lights blinking in and out among the trees. As they grew nearer, they discovered the source.
In a clearing directly off the path, a small, outdoor chapel had been set up. A discreet sign indicated the Catholic church in town was sponsoring this area.
“How beautiful,” Marilyn breathed. She tugged his arm, nearly knocking him off his snowshoes. “Let’s go in.”
He broke out in a cold sweat. Nope. There was no way he was stepping foot in that place. Or waddling a foot, he supposed, given his current foot gear.
Entering the open-air chapel felt too much like going into a church. And going into a church was only a small step from participating. He knew he was overreacting, but his heart was clawing its way out his throat, and around him, the world spun.
A recent conversation with a parishioner unspooled in his mind. Great sermon, Pastor. I especially liked when you referred to the Trinity as the Father, Son, and Holy Goat. The man had laughed and clapped him on the shoulder to show he was only kidding, but Bob knew that he’d been slipping, and his latest faux pas was only a symptom of that loss of passion.
Irrational or not, going into that small chapel ignited his fear that he had changed forever. Even participating in something as benign as a moonlit prayer felt like stepping back into the pulpit.
And the last thing he was planning to do was to be part of any religious ceremony.
But with the thought came the realization.
He wasn’t just skipping Christmas. He was losing a part of himself he’d never thought would die.
His calling.
So much for optimism. This outing was becoming a disaster.
Marilyn moved into the clearing alone. She still couldn’t figure out what was up with Bob lately. First at the restaurant and now here. Was this connected to the distance she’d been feeling between them?
Thank goodness she’d found a sweatshirt and leggings in her bag to wear for pjs last night, but she hoped she’d find a chance to try out her other, um, outfit.
Sure, she wanted to rekindle their spark, but more than that, she longed to connect with Bob. He kept pushing her away. Was it too much to hope that a scrap of fabric could bridge a gap?
Coming out of her nap earlier that day, her heart had twisted to see Bob slaving away at the puzzle. Not that he didn’t deserve a break—he just seemed so set on ignoring the problem between them. When he’d suggested this outing, she’d taken a full breath for the first time in days.
Now, under the moonlight and stars playing hide and seek with the clouds scattered above, she believed anything could happen. If she could only get her husband to talk to her.
But first, a word with the Lord wouldn’t hurt.
A few plank-and-stump benches were set in front of a rough cross. Candles shone around the edges of the clearing. Somewhere, a speaker played Christmas hymns. Overhead, the clouds blocked most of the stars, and the moon struggled to peek through the obstruction. Picking a bench near the front, she sat. The cold soaked through her jeans.
Keeping her eyes on the cross, she mouthed a few words from the Lord’s Prayer. “Thine is the kingdom and the glory,” she recited. “Lord, it’s easy to see Your glory out here where everything is beautiful. Give me grace to see the glory everywhere else.”
A peace stole over her. Maybe this trip wouldn’t be a disaster after all.
Humming “God Rest You Merry, Gentlemen,” she waddled on her snowshoes back out to where Bob waited.
“Ready?” he asked.
“You betcha.” She looped her arm through his.
They took a few steps, but then her shoe got tangled in his and down she went.
“Marilyn!” Bob reached for her hand, but it slipped out of his grasp. She felt her ankle twist under her as she landed in the soft snow.
“Oh!” She lay where she’d fallen for a moment, catching her breath, the snow encasing her.
“Are you okay?” Bob reached out his hand again.