The First Ninety Days Ch. 08

"It is," said Caitlyn. "Jon, this is Pastor George Larson. Pastor, this is Jonathan Stanford, my husband." How strange to call him that—and how wonderful. Even after a month, it still made her beam.

"Jon, it's a pleasure to meet you," said Pastor Larson. "I've seen you around church many times, but never had much chance to talk to you. And now it seems like you've done your part to make Caitlyn here very happy."

"Well," said Jon, "I try. She sure does her bit in keepingme happy."

"I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the wedding," Pastor Larson said. "Larry of course called me the moment he got word, but I was already in a movie with my children. Well, let me take this opportunity to wish you both a long and happy life together."

"Thank you," they said.

"Welcome to both of you," said Pastor Larson, enfolding both of them in a smile. "We'll be starting in just a few moments, but feel free to help yourself to any refreshments and meet some of the others. We're glad you're here."

As they drifted deeper into the maelstrom of people, Jon bent close to her and said: "Does he always use the royal 'we'?" But there was a smile in his voice when he said it, and Caitlyn thought that George Larson had won him over. As she had kind of counted on. Not that Jon needed to be bamboozled, but it would help if he felt welcome. And making people feel welcome, of course, was what Ministers of Hospitality like George Larson did best.

The rest was a hodgepodge conglomerate of church members, homeschoolers and random acquaintances. She could tell that Jon was waiting to see how she reacted, and when she didn't immediately involve herself in the general meet-and-greet, he too hung back. It was not that she didn't know anybody—half a dozen people came up and greeted her with the air of meeting a long-lost friend—it was that nobody knew her. None of them were sure what to do with Jon.She wasn't sure what to do with Jon. For that matter, she wasn't sure what to do with herself. She wasn't sure who she was.

I see some of these people in church on a weekly basis. Some of the others I haven't seen in years. But either way, I'm not the person they knew. I've changed. I'm married and I'm here with my husband, while they talk about fantasy football and the kind of parties they go to at school. I've experienced the pleasures of the flesh—then again, I may not be the only person here who's learned about that. But the point is, my sphere of interest has moved on. Grades don't interest me, nor the vagaries of sororities; I have other concerns now. I've changed.

Is this why Jon didn't want to go?

She found herself sitting off to one side with her husband, the two of them looking out into the crowd with mild disinterest—exactly the place she'd hopednot to find herself.This is where I always am, in a crowd. Sometimes, if I was lucky, Meredith or Zach or one of the few people I knew would come over and talk with me, but most of the time I would just be here on my own. Too scared to make friends, too lonely to leave. Because Iwasscared—no, Iamscared. Scared that, if I got to know anyone, they'd find me lacking. That we wouldn't get along and there'd be a disconnect and I'd mess it up so badly that they'd never want to talk to me again.

But this time, she realized, she wasn't alone: Jon was with her, holding her hand, occasionally leaning over to murmur something in her ear. Her other half.

I actually forgot he was here for a second. Is that a bad thing—or a good thing, that he's become as much a part of me as breathing?

Presently George Larson moved into the center of the room, clapping his hands. "Okay. Okay. Everybody. If I could have everybody's attention, let's begin our fellowship. Okay. Okay..."

The group started to sort itself out. Jon and Caitlyn, who were sitting against the wall (next to the piano), quickly found themselves included, as more chairs were added and the circle expanded to accommodate all the warm bodies. As luck would have it, none of the people Caitlyn recognized were sitting nearby.

"Hello to all of you," said Pastor Larson. "I'm glad all of you could come, even if you can only attend for a few sessions or even only for this one. As you have probably heard, this is George Larson's college group."

"So, if you were looking for the Knitting Circle, this might be the wrong place," said the woman sitting next to him, and Caitlyn, realizing that Jon had probably never met her, leaned over and said over the laughter, "That's Alice Larson. Pastor Larson's wife." Jon nodded.

"Why don't we begin by going around the circle and introducing ourselves," Pastor Larson said. "I suppose I'll start. I'm George Larson, and you probably all know me from church, where I am the Minister of Hospitality. I live here in this house with my wife, Alice, who is sitting right next to me; our children, Keisha who is ten and Madison who is eight, are with Pastor Pendleton and his family, who kindly offered to look after them tonight. I've been in ministry for almost twenty years, and it's a joy to be able to work with the people I do, and do the work I do, and I thank God every day for the kindness he has shown me."

"Now, I don't know about you, but that put me to sleep," Alice Larson said. Evidently she was the more talented at public relations between the two; Caitlyn had long ago observed how Pastor Larson's public speaking was mild to the point of being pedantic. "So let's do something a little bit more fun. How about... Everyone say their name, what school they go to and when they're going to graduate, and, ah. Their favorite summer vacation."

By these standards, the group was an eclectic mixture, to say the least. Some were still in their first year of college, and others were about to graduate, though none were in the workforce or master's programs. Many of them were at schools with Christian backgrounds, those who weren't at seminaries to begin with; that was one of Caitlyn's few regrets, that she hadn't been brave enough to go out for a Jesuit university like Santa Clara or Loyola Marymount. She might've flourished in such an environment, she thought; Greenfield had been nice, but not as welcoming as she could've hoped. But if she had gone elsewhere, she would've never met Jon, andthen where would she be?

"I'm Caitlyn—" (Delaney) "—I'm Caitlyn Stanford. I graduated from Greenfield University last summer with a double degree in Music and Accounting, and in eighteen months I'll be graduating from Shellview State with a master's in Harp Performance. Umm. My favorite summer vacation is probably... Oregon, without a doubt. I love the coast over there—probably because I like the climate here, too. There’s so much land out in Oregon that just hasn't been touched yet. It's really nice."

"Now, Caitlyn," said Alice Larson. "You said your last name was Stanford. Am I mis-remembering, or has that always been your last name?" It was so innocently phrased that Caitlyn wondered if George had asked his wife to draw out this little tidbit.

"Umm," said Caitlyn, with a glance at Jon. He seemed composed, and his hand still clasped hers, so she went ahead with it. "No. It's only been mine for about a month. —Thirty days, actually. Before then, it was his." And then, sensing the gap and the opportunity for a bombshell: "I guess I should've introduced myself asMrs. Caitlyn Stanford."

She felt rather than saw Jon roll his eyes.

There was a ripple of surprise; only George Larson was exempt. Max Lapinski said, laughing, "Are yousure you're in the right group? Shouldn't you be looking for the Knitting Circle?"

"Are you kidding? I don't knit!" Caitlyn retorted.

"That would be me," said Jon, completely deadpan, and there was more laughter.

"I for one am glad that Jon and Caitlyn are here," said George Larson, in a quiet voice that nonetheless drew all ears. "Young though they may be, the Stanfords will still be able to provide a different perspective on the things we talk about in this group. Remember that, for many of you, they represent where you ultimately hope to be, if in ten or fifteen years instead of just after graduating. And seeing as how Caitlyn is still in college..."

"How old are you, Caitlyn," Alice Larson asked.

"Twenty," Caitlyn said. "Well, almost twenty-one. On Sunday I'll be twenty-one."

"Happy early birthday!" Max Lapinski shouted.

"You aren't twenty-one yet, but you're already working on your master's degree?" Harry Radnick said.

"Home-schooled," said Missy Sloane, who had taken "classes" with Caitlyn under Mrs. Delaney for several years. "Didn't you test out of high school at, like, fourteen, Caitlyn?"

Caitlyn nodded. She and Nathan had learned the same material for most of their lives, despite their three-year age difference.

"Well," said George Larson. "Here's someone who's not only older than most of the people here, but younger as well. It's an interesting dichotomy. Why don't we move on to the next person. Caitlyn, I believe this is the lucky man?"

"Yeah, um, hi," said Jon. "My name's Jonathan Stanford, and I graduated from Greenfield University two years ago. I'm now in the work force—I'm an 'adult,' ha-ha yeah right—but I still have a lot of friends in college, and, um. Doing my best to provide for the lovely woman beside me."

"How did you two meet?" Alice Larson asked.

"Through school," Caitlyn said. "We'd see each other around the music building."

"Were you a Music major?" Alice asked Jon.

"No, I just love it to death," said Jon. "I should've been, but by the time I realized that, I was a senior and it was too late."

"And we would see each other around," Caitlyn said, "and then we got to talking, and eventually... Well, the rest is history."

After they'd gone around the circle, Pastor Larson sat up and said, "All right, then. Now that we all know each other, let's get started on tonight's discussion. Alice and I don't really have any plans at the moment as to the tone of these meetings; we thought we'd just let the membership decide. But we did pick a topic for tonight, and it's arguably the biggest one there is.

"We've all heard that God is love. But what is Love?

"We'd like to split the meeting up into smaller groups and have a short discussion about what, exactly, love is. Why don't... From Alice to Stacy, from Greg to Harry, from Missy to Harold, and from Helen to me. Those will be the small groups. We'll discuss for, let's say, five minutes, and then reconvene. Okay."

From her group, Caitlyn knew Melissa Sloane, but Harold Cheng was new to her. The other two moved their chairs up to form an arc. "So," Missy said. "Love."

"Wouldn't they be the experts?" Harold Cheng said, gesturing to Caitlyn and Jon. "I mean, they're married and everything. They'd know the most about it, it seems to me."

"I dunno, not necessarily," Missy said. "There's more to love than just getting married."

"Yeah, but, isn't that, like, the fullest expression of love?" said Harold. "You know, when you get to, um, 'know someone Biblically'?" He added the quotes with his eyebrows. Caitlyn felt a spike of distaste.

"Not necessarily," said Jon. "I mean, yeah, there's love between, you know, people who are in romantic relationships and stuff. But then, what about when you say that you love your friends? Does that mean that you want to, I dunno, kiss them and marry them and, what, um, obtain carnal knowledge of them or whatever?"

"And then what about, you know, stuff?" Caitlyn said. "People say, 'I love chocolate cake.' "

"Amen, sister," said Missy Sloane.

"Do you love chocolate cake the way you love your husband? —Or wife? Or the way you love your friends? Or even the way you love God?"

"I think it's hard to know God Biblically," said Missy, always the pragmatist.

"Not necessarily," Jon said. "He doesn't make Himself known overtly very much anymore. One could argue that knowing Him through the Bible is theonly way to know him."

Caitlyn gave him a glance. He didn't believe such things, she was pretty sure—his appreciation for the Bible was just about nil—and she didn't think he should say them if he didn't believe them. Even if they did happen to be true.

"I don't think that's exactly the meaning we were going for there," Missy said.

"Oh, not enough innuendo for you?" said Jon, with a look of such bald-faced innocence that Missy burst out laughing.

"I still think that romantic love is the ultimate expression of love," said Harold. "I mean, seriously, who else do we love so much that we would die for them?"

"Our parents," said Caitlyn promptly. She felt the brief look Jon gave her like scalding water on her skin.

"Or sometimes our friends," Jon agreed.

"But we don't love them in the romantic, Valentines-Day sense," Caitlyn said. "Or, at least, we shouldn't."

"Loving your parents that way is icky," Jon said.

"I don't think there's just one kind of love," Caitlyn said.

"But we only have one word for it," Harold said.

"That's just the linguists' fault," said Missy. "The ancient Greeks had more than one. Actually, they had five."

"Really?" said Jon. "I've only heard of three."

"Well, you should study more," said Missy with smiling simplicity. "They hadphilia, which is the love between brothers. They haderos, which is, you know, beingin love with someone. Lust. They hadagape, which is something like 'unconditional regard for other human beings.' They hadstorge, which is the love between parents and children. And then they had some fifth one which I can't remember off the top of my head. It's been a while since I took Foundations of Christianity."

"And you'll notice that that still doesn't cover chocolate cake," said Caitlyn.

"Maybe that was the fifth one," Jon said.

"I think that's part of why Pastor Larson decided to start with this question," Missy said. "It's one word, but we use it to describe so many feelings and concepts. Romantic love, which in this case includes physical attraction. Bonds of friendship and brotherhood and family. Affection for objects."

"Pets," said Jon.

"Yeah, there's another one," said Missy. "Pets. It's a huge subject, and the definition of the feeling seems to change depending on what it's aimed at."

"So, what are the things we normally say we love," Caitlyn asked, "and what do we mean when we say we love them?"

"Well, we say we love our girlfriends or boyfriends or husbands or wives," said Harold. His eyes were eager, like a child awaiting birthday presents. Caitlyn wondered briefly if he had just gone through a break-up or something.

"Let's start from the top," said Missy, with just a hint of a look around her eyes to suggest that she, too, had picked up on this odd fixation. "We say we love God. What does it mean to love God?"

This was Caitlyn's question to answer: Missy had posed it, Jon probably didn't have an honest answer (though, bless his heart, he would certainly try if asked), and somehow she wasn't sure she wanted to hear Harold's. "It means that we listen to His will and try to live it out in the world. We love him because He is worthy of love, because He looks after us and guides our steps, and we obey His will because doing so will please Him—and please us as well, because we know He wants only the best for us."

"So there's an element of service," Missy said.

"I think there's an element of service inall love," said Jon. "We love God, so we do what makes Him happy. We love our significant others, so we do what will make them happy. We love our friends, so if we can make them happy, we can. We love our pets, so we look after them and fulfill their needs as best we can—even though that can be difficult, 'cause, it's not like we can necessarily talk to our pets."

"Hey, speak for yourself," said Caitlyn, at the same time Missy said, "I can." They glanced at each other and grinned.

"Well, yes, we can talk to them," said Jon, giving them both a wry look, "but they might not answer."

"Hey, speak foryour pets," said Caitlyn, at the same time Missy said, "Mine do." They looked at each other and grinned.

Jon gave a long-suffering sigh. "We even love chocolate cake, which exists solely for our pleasure and nourishment, so we honor it by allowing it to fulfill its purpose," he finished. "Love means thinking about other people. Love means wanting to make others happy. Love means service."

"And then, because they're happy, they thank us and serve us and try to makeus happy," Caitlyn said. She couldn't keep herself from thinking about Jon's face when she took his member in her mouth: the sheer longing there when she started, and the love when she finished. It wasn't her favorite thing to do, but it was growing on her a little bit—and the love on his face, and then the love in his hands and tongue as he lavished attention on her in return, and in his arms when he held her in the aftermath, were certainly a worthwhile reward.

"I don't think the self-sacrifice thing is necessarily true," Jon said. "I think that, in many ways, we don't have to put ourselves second when we love, because the very act of pleasing someone else pleases us too. Love is the only gift that gives to both the giver and the receiver. But I think you have to be willing to. You have to realize that, to truly love someone, youdo need to place yourself second, and be willing to do something even if you think it's a terrible idea, or if it won't please you at all."

"And that's probably most important in a romantic relationship," said Missy.

"No, not necessarily," said Caitlyn. "Sometimes that's very important with God too. Isn't that the problem we all had before we became Christians?—the fear that God would ask us to do things that we found objectionable? I know that, for me, baptism was the hardest part: I'm scared of drowning, I meanreally scared of drowning. So for God to ask me to, you know, to risk this thing... It'd be like if baptism involved being covered in spiders."

Missy jumped.

"Yeah, you see where I'm going with this. So to be baptized and to follow Christ was literally taking my life in my hands. But it was important enough, so... I did. Because I knew that, no matter how objectionable I found it, it was for the best. And that pleasing God was, or at least should be, more important than pleasing myself."

"And besides, if youdid drown and die, newly-baptized would be about as holy as it's possible to get," Jon quipped. Caitlyn rolled her eyes.

"So I think it's not about being in a romantic relationship and having to sacrifice something for them," Caitlyn said. "I think it's... The deeper or more strongly you love someone... The more likely it is that pleasing them will require you to do something you'd rather not. And, so... The more you love someone, the harder it is to keep loving them, but... The greater the rewards if you do."

"So it's not about who you're in love with," Jon said, "it's about how deeply you love someone. And, generally, the people we're in love with are the people we love most deeply, so, yeah, you do have to sacrifice more for them. But if the most important person in the world to us was our best friend—"

"Or God," Caitlyn said.

"—Or God," Jon agreed, with only the slightest pause to show his surprise, "then they would be the person we're most likely to sacrifice for."

Harold Cheng had an expression on his face that Caitlyn found difficult to interpret, but if she had to guess, he was disappointed, or maybe even angry, with something he'd heard. And then, as his face resolved, she realized he was glaring ather. Why? All she'd done was speak the truth.