Composing Amelia (6 page)

The patrons around them cheered, and Marcus and Dane both turned their attention to the television to catch the replay. But Marcus was only half interested in the game. His thoughts were stuck on the job in Nebraska, the job that kept him up at night and felt more right every time he talked about it. Of course it would be a difficult position to handle without prior experience. But what was so wrong with him that made everyone think he was incapable of succeeding?
That’s an exaggeration,
he told himself. Obviously the elders of New Hope Church in Wheatridge, Nebraska, didn’t think that. They wouldn’t have written if they hadn’t considered him up to the challenge.
See? Not everyone thinks you’re incapable.

Just the people who should have been cheering him on.

Amelia looked at the clock again. The game had to have ended by now—what was taking Marcus so long to get home? He and Dane were good friends, but didn’t have the tendency to forget time when they hung out the way she and Jill did. Marcus’s dependability gave her a sense of security, something she’d always craved and was so happy to find, and when he deviated from his usual, predictable nature, it stressed her out. She’d already been mildly irritated that he’d spent one of his rare job-free nights at a bar with Dane, though she knew he needed time with his friends too.

She turned back to her keyboard and continued to play a piece she’d learned as a warmup at Juilliard. Muscle memory allowed her to play it without thinking; it gave her body something to do while her mind fidgeted.

She and Marcus hadn’t had the chance to talk much since she’d won the position with the theater troupe, and the suspense was killing her. She really thought Marcus would capitulate and give up the notion of the Nebraska interview since she now had an actual job anchoring her in LA, but while he’d been enthusiastic for her, he hadn’t said anything about his own plans. He couldn’t still be thinking about going, could he? What was the point?

By the time he got home, Amelia had gone over her arguments for staying in California so many times that she had to swallow back the urge to dive right in when he walked through the door. Maybe Dane had talked some sense into him; she should give him the chance to admit he’d changed his mind before inundating him with her reasoning. She rose from the keyboard bench and met him at the door with a kiss. “What took you so long? I was getting worried.”

“I’m sorry, babe. Game went into a shoot-out and we wanted to see how it ended.”

She was relieved the reason was so mundane. “Oh, okay. That’s cool. Exciting game, then, huh?

“Yeah, great game—Ducks won and Selanne scored the winning shot with a wicked move.” He hung up his jacket and stretched. “Dane’s cousin owes him some cash, so when he gets it he’s buying tickets for the four of us for the Ducks-Avalanche game in January.”

Amelia felt itchy waiting for the conversation to turn. “That will be fun.”

“Yeah, should be.” He planted another kiss on her cheek and took her hand to lead her to the couch.

“So … how’s Dane?”

“He’s good. Still not convinced this pregnancy isn’t the end of the world, but I think he’ll come around eventually.” He smiled, though he looked unsure. “I told him we’d help out, babysit and stuff so they could go out. We’d do that, right?”

“Oh—definitely, of course.”
We can’t do that if we’re in Nebraska,
she thought with relief. “So you’re turning down that interview, then?”

Marcus visibly tensed. “No, I’m still going to interview. I actually booked my flight this afternoon.”

She gaped at him, shocked. “Are you serious? We didn’t agree that you would go. We only agreed that we would pray about it. Why didn’t you ask me? I have a job now—I can’t just up and leave.”

A flash of defiance shone in Marcus’s eyes. Had he intentionally avoided the conversation? “Look,” he said with his palms out, as if protecting himself from her, “it’s not like I’ve accepted a position. But just like you, I want to move forward with my career. I’m just as tired as you are of dead-end jobs. I just need to see where this goes.”

She took a deep breath. She did understand his position. But still … “So what happens if you
do
get an offer?”

He shrugged. “I’d have to consider it.”

Her understanding turned to anger. She rose from the couch. “Marcus, this is my point. Don’t put yourself in the position of even being offered the job if it’s going to tempt you to take it seriously. We can’t move to Nebraska. It makes no sense.”

Marcus’s expression remained infuriatingly set. “Amelia, I can’t just write this off. I told you, I feel like God is prompting me to consider this. I can’t say no.”

Amelia rolled her eyes. “Oh, sure, play the God card. I can’t argue with that, can I? No, wait—I can. How is it that
you
getting offered an interview is God working, but me actually getting a job isn’t? Does it only count because your job is ministry? Does that make your career more important than mine?”

“No, of course not.” He ran his hand through his hair, and Amelia could see she’d rattled him. “I can’t speak to what, if anything, God was doing when you got that job. All I know is that I really feel God is leading me to pursue this.” He stopped, his eyes closing briefly, then continued with a quieter tone. “Look, why don’t you come with me? Maybe if you saw what Wheatridge is really like, instead of just assuming it’s a cultural black hole, you’d deci––”

“No.” The word was out before she could craft a more diplomatic response. At this point it was as much about principle as it was about the actual job. “You obviously don’t value my career. If you did, you wouldn’t be going out there in the first place. I don’t support this, Marcus, I’m sorry. The whole thing is …” She threw up her hands, her words cut off by her exasperation. She sat down hard on the keyboard bench and pulled on her headphones, then began to play Tori Amos’s “Precious Things.” She needed to pound the keys and blast the sound without bothering the neighbors. Plus, playing with the headphones on was the closest she could get to having some privacy in their tiny apartment. From the corner of her eye she saw Marcus throw up his hands and sit down on the couch to watch television. It was getting late; both of them should have been getting ready for bed, but Amelia wasn’t about to open herself up to more conversation by disengaging from her music.

It took over an hour, but eventually Marcus made the first move toward bed. Anger and energy spent, Amelia’s playing had dwindled to lullabies and scales, and she turned off the sound in her headphones so she could tell without looking when Marcus had finally gone to bed. The sound of the bed creaking beneath his weight was the signal she’d been waiting for; she sat five more minutes before turning off the keyboard and going to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

Be asleep,
she thought as she emerged from the bathroom to pull on her pajamas. She didn’t want to go to bed with this unresolved issue clouding the atmosphere, but neither did she want to hash it out anymore. She slipped between the sheets, careful to keep to her side of the bed, and was startled when Marcus’s voice broke the silence.

“I won’t take it if you really don’t want to go.”

She froze. “What?” Surely she must have misunderstood.

He took a deep breath, as though saying the words required more strength than he had. “If they offer the job, and you really don’t want to go, I won’t take it.”

There had to be a catch. “For real? How can you say that? I thought it was God’s decision.” Her tone was more sarcastic than she’d intended, and the moment of quiet before he spoke made her think he might recant. Instead he said, “It
is
God’s decision. But if He wants us to go, He’ll give you the desire too. That’s how we’ll know it’s the right thing to do.”

Wow.
This
was the man she’d married. And she could accept his logic—even if admittedly it was because she was positive she would never desire to move to Nebraska. Still, she slid closer to Marcus and wrapped him in a hug. “Thank you.”

Marcus stared at the lights that shifted on the ceiling from the traffic on the street outside. He should never have said it. But he just hadn’t been able stand the thought of Amelia being so angry with him. Irrational as his head knew it was, his heart worried she wouldn’t love him if he didn’t provide some kind of compromise. He couldn’t risk that. And the more he thought about it, the more it made sense that God really would make Amelia excited about moving if it was the right thing to do. Or, if not totally excited, at least willing.
Inaction until unity
was the phrase their pastor often used when discussing decision making in marriage. It had always made sense. But … could couples always be united? Sometimes a decision had to be made. What then?

Change her mind,
he begged God.
Please, give me this job and change her mind.
He was out of options, and he was out of patience. If he wasn’t offered this job, what then? Not to mention that the job description—aside from the location—sounded even more exciting after having heard back from Ed Donovan, the head elder at New Hope.

While Amelia had been playing—or rather, what seemed to be assaulting—her piano, Marcus had watched the news, then checked his email to kill time before bed. He’d emailed Ed earlier in the day to let him know when he’d be coming to town for the interview, and Ed had written back to confirm the date and answer some of Marcus’s questions about the position. He now knew that the old pastor had descended into heresy so gradually no one really noticed until they were in the thick of it. When the elders had finally come to their senses, they’d ousted the man and nearly caused a church split in the process. They were limping along now, in need of a pastor who could unify them again and retrain them in biblical Christianity. The elders were taking turns preaching, but none of them was a gifted speaker, and none of them had any formal training in theology or doctrine. The church was multigenerational, but with far fewer young families and couples.

“We’d love to see that change,” Ed had written. “Wheatridge has a growing population of people under thirty-five. To have someone in that demographic at the helm would help in attracting them to the church.”

I want this, God. Please make it happen.

Marcus knew his prayers were selfish, but he figured he might as well admit his feelings; God knew them anyway. And he was as sure as he had ever been about anything that this job was for him, so he was confident he was praying in agreement with God’s plan.

But he couldn’t help worrying that he and Amelia would come to an impasse.

Deep breath,
he told himself.
One thing at a time. Do the interview, get all the details, and then start pleading with God.

Marcus flipped to his stomach and pulled the pillow over his head to shut out the light from the window. He had to sleep—he had an early start with his surf class tomorrow. But his head throbbed with stress.

He never should have said it.

C
HAPTER 3

The Santa Ana winds had finally blown away the cold weather and brought back the winter warmth LA was famous for. Amelia checked the weather for Nebraska before heading to sushi with Jill and couldn’t help smiling. The forecast predicted freezing rain and possible snow that night. Marcus had never lived anywhere with snow.
We’ll see what you think of Nebraska after this.