Page 93 of Leviticus
“I am. Honestly I am.” I could sense the hesitation in her voice.
“Tell me what you’re thinking right now. You seem hesitant,” I urged softly.
“It’s not hesitation, not really. I just don’t how we are going to handle feeling this way every month.” Her eyes went wide all of a sudden and met mine in fear. “Wait, you’re not saying we have to stop… the things we do… are you?”
I laughed from the depths of my stomach. It was endearing.
“No, sweetheart. No, we don’t have to stop doingthe things we doas you put it. But I do think it prompts a conversation we should have about family planning. How do you feel about going on birth control?” I suggested cautiously.
“Birth control? Like the pills that make it so you don’t get pregnant?” she questioned and I nodded. “That’s against the church. How would we even get them?”
“My brothers and I know of a way to get them. And yes, it is against the church, but it would help us to be able to choosewhenwe become parents, instead of being worried every month. But, ultimately, the choice is yours, Ruth. I will support whatever you decide.” I sat in silence while I let her mull over the decision.
“I think you’re right. But, I just don’t understand how. Won’t someone in Zion find out? That could mean bad news for us and —”
“I know. My brothers and I have a post office box in a neighboring town. That’s how we get some of our mail items that we don’t want Zion to know about,” I explained with a wink.
“Oh, you mean like yourkit?” The twinkling humor was back in her eyes and I felt relieved to see it. We would be okay. Perhaps a child would be in our future.
Someday.
Just not today.
The next morning…
Sunday had arrived faster than I had anticipated. We had been married for five weeks and had not attended church yet. This would be a big moment for both of us, being in town and in church as a married couple, and I could feel the cold sweat of nerves already settling over my body. Ruth had come down the staircase this morning dressed in her Sunday finest. She looked beautiful, but the more time passed, the more I wanted to buy her an entirely new wardrobe. Something less modest and something she picked out just for herself. I made a mental note to talk to her about just that later this evening.
We drove into town in relative silence. Last night had been emotionally draining on both of us and we had spent the remainder of the evening curled up in one another’s arms talking about everything and nothing, just soaking in one another for a short while.
The more time had passed this week, the more I realized I could not keep putting off the conversation we needed to have. I understood Malachi’s reservations. I truly did. But there was still something deep down within me that worried she would leave. That in the end, she would choose to walk away from me. Perhaps because she would not want to leave her family. Perhaps because she would want a completely different life out in the real world. Something that did not include me.
I parked the car in the church parking lot and turned to look at Ruth, my wife.
“Are you ready?” I asked her sincerely.
“Not really, but it will be okay. I’ll see you afterwards?” The look on her face, that slightly worried but putting on a good face for posterity look, made me want to turn the car around and keep her safe and happy in our home. We both knew that was not an option.
“It will be okay. And yes, I will be waiting for you when your classes are finished,” I assured her.
“This is the first time we will have been apart since our wedding day,” she whined. I took her hand, squeezing it softly and wishing I could pull her into my arms. That would be beyond scandalous in the church parking lot, however.
“It’s just a few hours and then we can go home, where we both want to be,” I reassured her. With one last squeeze, we exited the car and walked into the church, my hand on her lower back, guiding her and letting her know I was still there.
A gaggle of women were standing just inside the church lobby, hastily pulling Ruth away from me and towards her classroom for Sunday school. I felt the pang of loss heavily in my chest. I did not like this one bit.
“Leviticus, my boy!” My father’s voice drew me away from my wife’s retreating form.
“Good morning, Father,” I greeted him, shaking his outstretched hand. I turned my head back towards my wife one last time, her form walking into a classroom down the long hallway.
“Ah, to be a newlywed once again. I hear there is good news to be shared this morning,” he prompted, a knowing look on his face.
“It is too soon to tell, Father,” I answered, mostly because I was not wanting to have this conversation in this very moment.
“I remember the days well. I am sure you will be making an official announcement in the coming weeks, then. I am proud of you, son. Now, let us make haste to our own class this morning.” Father led me up down the opposite hallway to our own classroom. It was far down the hallway in a room I had never been in. This was the classroom for the married men of the church. When I entered the room, I realized that it was not just the class for married men, but for the Elders of the church.
“Father, this is the classroom for Elders. I am not an Elder,” I protested as gently and kindly as I could, watching my tone carefully around my father.
“Not yet, but today begins your leadership courses,” he informed me proudly.
