Pocketful of Pearls (10 page)

“I’m glad,” Phinehas said simply, with a fond look. He pushed his plate away. “And now I believe I’ll spend some time in prayer
and thanksgiving for the service tonight, and plead for Elsie’s recovery.”

When he left the room, Matthew turned to look at Dinah. The tension seeped slowly out of her, leaving her limp in her chair.

“Excuse me.” She went into the bathroom, and a few moments later he heard the toilet flush. When she came back into the room,
she smelled of breath freshener.

“Have you seen a doctor about that?” he inquired softly.

“About what?” She reached for her cooling mug of tea and swallowed it.

“I believe the disorder is called
bulimia
.”

She gazed at him, her eyelids drooping with exhaustion, and didn’t answer.

“In my last position we were trained on how to spot various things that affect young people, and eating disorders was one
of them. I think it would be helpful if you talked to someone about it.”

“I think it would be helpful if you minded your own business.”

Humiliation burned his cheeks. He had only known this girl for a couple of days, and already she had driven him to extremes
of behavior he would not have believed possible a week ago. Digging graves. Underwater rescues. Standing up to evil cloaked
in godliness. Her blunt words seemed to negate all that, to reduce him to . . . well, the status of a hired hand.

“I beg your pardon,” he said, feeling as foolishly British as he no doubt sounded. He put his plate in the sink and made sure
the kitchen door did not slam as he closed it behind him.

DINAH HAD FULLY
expected God to strike her dead for lying to Phinehas and making up such outrageous stories about cattle thefts and break-ins.
Or, at the very least, she had expected Phinehas to see right into her miserable soul and catch her out. The punishment would
end up being the same.

But neither of them did. Instead, Phinehas had gone to his room without telegraphing his usual intent, and she had known the
lie had worked. For tonight at least, she was safe. Maybe there was an advantage to having God’s back turned on her. He’d
actually missed an opportunity.

However, she’d wound up punishing herself. She’d hurt Matthew’s feelings, and now, at two in the morning, when she’d heard
measured footsteps moving around the house, a glance out the window had told her he was holding up his side of their unrehearsed
lie and actually performing the duties of a night watchman.

She’d be thankful if she didn’t feel so bad. Okay, he was wrong about the bulimia. She had every right to control her digestive
system, that was all. She certainly had no control over anything else. Without a word being said, the expectations of the
congregation dictated how she dressed and did her hair. Phinehas controlled her body. The only things that belonged to her
were her stomach and her mind, and sometimes she wondered about the latter.

She’d tried to stop throwing up. She’d keep meals down for maybe two or three days at a time. But then Phinehas would turn
up unexpectedly or her father would lay down another rule, and she’d run to the fridge to fill up the empty hole inside her,
and reassert control by tossing everything up again.

Was it even possible to stop? She didn’t know. And seeing a doctor was so ridiculous it just emphasized how ignorant Matthew
was about their ways. Michael Archer was Elect. He was the only doctor they all went to see, and if Matthew’s wrong ideas
were ever repeated to him, he’d be out here visiting with her mother before you could say “mentally disturbed.” Her mother
would deny it and then proceed to make her life miserable with questions and complaints and lectures about how she was attracting
attention to herself and bringing disgrace on God’s Holy Flock.

Again.

IN THE MORNING
Aunt Margaret had the report of her mother’s condition. “She was in ICU so we weren’t allowed to see her last night, but
dear Dr. Archer said that we should be able to today. They revived her in the ambulance and she’s conscious and able to speak.
He says it will take a while for her facial muscles to respond, but she should recover those in time.”

She and Uncle John were going back down at noon. “There’s room in the car for you, Dinah. You don’t need to go down there
by yourself.”

So of course there was no getting out of it. The last thing she wanted to do was see the wreck she’d made of her mother. She
was torn between satisfaction that she’d finally made her listen and misery because she hadn’t meant to give her a stroke.
But that was just like Mom—to escape a reality she didn’t like by getting sick. Down deep she loved her mother, wanted her
approval. Somehow that was part of the problem, all wrapped into the Gordian knot in her middle—the knowledge that if her
mother silently approved of what Phinehas was doing, then maybe she should allow it.

But that was sick, and wrong. And it was too late now, anyway. She’d been lucky last night. Phinehas had been taken off guard
by Matthew’s unexpected appearance. He would want to reassert his authority tonight. There was nothing she could do about
it.

When she’d finally mustered the courage to refuse him last summer, he’d told her in the gentlest way possible, his hands soft
on her skin, that she needed to be careful. Word could get out, he’d said, about her unwillingness and disobedience, and her
glowing reputation would be shredded by the gossip in less time than it took to warn her about it. And then she would no longer
be welcome in Gathering. She might even have to face the Testimony of Two Men—the Elect’s way of dealing with profound sin—and
be Silenced for seven years, like Tamara. And she’d seen what had happened to her sister, hadn’t she?

Oh yes, she’d seen. She knew God hated sin, that his vengeance was severe and complete. But it always seemed that the vengeance
fell the heaviest on the women. Look at Rita Ulstad and Julia McNeill, who had been driven Out. Even Tamara had done nothing
more terrible than love the wrong person. Their names were not even to be spoken, although she’d noticed that Rebecca had
ignored that rule. But what about the men on the other side of all those equations? Where was their punishment? For heaven’s
sake, Tamara’s ex-boyfriend Danny Bell was right here in town, though she hadn’t seen him much lately, and he was walking
around unpunished and fancy free.

It was obvious God was a member of some exclusive men’s club, out to grind women under his heavenly heel. And Phinehas, who
was in direct communication with him in a way that mere members of the congregation could not know, was following his august
example.

In a world like this, Dinah thanked her lucky stars for the river.

But first, she had to visit her mother.

She followed Uncle John and Aunt Margaret down the bright hallway to Elsie’s room and found Dr. Archer there with her. Dinah
leaned over the rail of the bed to kiss her, trying not to look at the clear plastic tubing in her mother’s nose and in the
back of her hand.

Her mother did not look at her, either.

The visit lasted no more than five minutes, during which Aunt Margaret did most of the talking. When Dinah sat beside the
bed and took her mother’s hand, with a fretful movement Elsie pulled it away, murmuring something about disturbing the IV.

Well, she deserved that small rejection. She wasn’t sorry she’d spoken out. Not one bit. But she was deeply sorry it had sent
her mother’s blood pressure through the roof and brought this on. And the worst part was there was nothing she could do to
fix it. No comfort she could offer. How could she, when there was nothing inside herself but a great big empty hole?

“IT’S JUST SUCH
a shame.” Aunt Margaret looked out her window on the way home and her mouth set exactly the way Dinah’s father’s used to,
even though they weren’t actually related. “That poor woman has gone through more in the last week than many people do in
their whole lives.”

Dinah sank back against the upholstery in the sedan’s backseat and tried to look invisible.

“Someone has to look after her, and Dinah can’t be expected to do everything.”

Dinah suddenly had a vision of caring for her invalid mother for twenty years, with visits from Phinehas every few months.
Alone forever, with nothing but responsibility and care and pain, until she died.

“What’s going on in your head, Meg?” Uncle John flipped on the turn signal and turned onto the highway.

“When she’s released, she should come to us,” Margaret said firmly. “She should get away from sad memories and recover somewhere
where she has no cares and there are new faces around to cheer her up.”

Uncle John was the kind of man who never made a decision on the spot. He thought for at least a mile, then glanced in the
rearview mirror.

“What do you think about that, Dinah?”

Say the right thing.
“I think it would be an awful lot of care and responsibility for you folks. I should look after her. It’s my place.”

“But you looked after your dad all those weeks when Elsie had that little breakdown, after you got the diagnosis. You need
a break, and goodness knows we have a huge house all to ourselves since the kids have married and gone. There’s no reason
why Elsie couldn’t have the downstairs bedroom. And we can take her back and forth to physical therapy and whatnot.”

“Aunt Margaret, you’re the kindest person in the world, but really—”

“No arguing, Dinah. You’re a big girl. You can manage things by yourself for a little while. Then, when your mother is back
on her feet, she can come home.”

Dinah didn’t dare feel thankful or even happy in case God noticed and did something to make Aunt Margaret change her mind.

“Bless your heart, Auntie Meg,” she said at last. She hadn’t called her that since she was a little girl. “We’ll do what you
think is best.”

Her thoughts rabbited ahead. With her mother gone to Uncle John’s, Phinehas would have to leave, and he wouldn’t be able to
come back while Dinah was alone in the house. It wouldn’t look right for a single man and a single woman to share living quarters,
even if that man was the Senior Shepherd and a man of God and the woman was a daughter of one of the favored families with
a reputation that was beyond reproach. It just wasn’t done, and thank goodness for it. She had at least a couple of weeks
of blessed solitude, all to herself. No one to criticize what she did or said or wore. No one to manage her time and tasks.
No one to make her do things she didn’t want to do. She would be in control of herself and her environment for practically
the first time in her life.

Suddenly Dinah felt ravenously hungry.

A
TINY FROWN
appeared on Phinehas’s forehead when Uncle John outlined their plan for Elsie’s recovery.

“To your place?” he repeated. “All the way down in Pitchford?”

“It’s only ninety miles,” Aunt Margaret assured him. “An hour and a half. Less, if John is driving.”

“But what if something should go wrong? What if Dinah has to be there right away?”

Dinah continued to straighten and tidy the living room, as invisible as a servant. But she knew what he was thinking. Oh yes.
She knew. Her only hope was Aunt Margaret’s stubborn loyalty and kindness of heart. That was the only thing that would withstand
the roadblocks of gentle disapproval Phinehas was bound to throw up.

“It’s just a matter of recovery, Phinehas. Elsie has come through surprisingly well. She’s able to speak. Dr. Archer is convinced
that with rest and good care, she’ll recover completely.”

“And her own daughter can’t provide this?” The Shepherd’s tone balanced between gentle amazement and subtle rebuke, though
he did not glance at Dinah.

“Dinah has had enough to deal with. It’s time the family stepped in to assist. Now, I know you’re concerned, Phinehas. Of
course the Shepherd of our souls has a concern for each sheep in the fold. But this is the best plan for everyone.”

Aunt Margaret was so sure of herself that Dinah sensed the moment Phinehas decided to back down and not press the matter.
After all, he wasn’t a member of the family. And if he expressed his wish that an invalid stay in the house as a helpless
chaperone for her, disguising his nocturnal activities, her aunt and uncle might wonder why. And even the mildest question
about his behavior was unacceptable to Phinehas. She’d learned that early on.

BY THE END
of the week, Elsie was released from the hospital into John and Margaret’s care, and arrangements were made for physical
therapy at a clinic in Pitchford. There was no longer any reason for Phinehas to stay, and that last morning, as he packed
his suitcase, Dinah fidgeted around the house with a dust cloth and a can of spray cleaner, praying that nothing would occur
to stop his going. He still had not visited her room, and her fatalistic side waited for God to strike one last time.

When he came down at last, he had his suitcase in hand. She hardly dared to breathe.

“Ah. Dinah.” He put the suitcase down in the hall by the front door and came into the dining room. “I’d like to speak with
you.”