The Desire (14 page)

M
ichele was just about to call Allan when she heard a car pull up out front. She and her mom were still watching the movie, but for the last half hour, she had been pretty distracted. Allan's visit with Ray was taking much longer than he had said. He was supposed to be home by about the time they had finished dessert and coffee.

That was almost an hour ago.

When she got up, her mom said, “Do you want me to pause it?”

“That's okay. For some reason, I'm just not into this. Allan just got home. I think we'll get going. I feel a nap coming on.”

“I'm feeling pretty sleepy too. Maybe it's this movie.”

“That and the big dinner and the fact it's Sunday afternoon,” Michele said. “Anyway . . .” She walked over to her mom. “Don't get up.” She leaned down and gave her a hug good-bye. “Thanks for feeding us, again.” Through the window she saw Allan coming up the sidewalk. “Well, gotta go. Talk to you soon.”

She did her best to sound upbeat, but she was a little annoyed. Allan probably had a good excuse for being late. As she opened the front door, she reminded herself it wasn't a big deal.

“Hey, babe,” Allan said as he approached the front steps. He noticed her purse. “You're ready to go?”

“I've been ready for almost an hour.” That came out with more edge than she'd planned.

“I'm sorry. I should've called. Ray and I just got to talking, and I lost track of the time.”

Okay, maybe he didn't have such a good excuse. “I'm pretty tired. I already said my good-byes.” She came down the porch steps.

“Did Doug already leave?”

They headed back down the sidewalk toward their car. “Yeah. Mom's watching a movie. Dad's asleep. And Tom and Jean are upstairs with the kids. Haven't heard a peep out of them for a while.”

“Maybe they're sleeping too,” he said. “And Christina?” He opened her car door.

She knew what he was doing. He could tell she was upset, so he was making small talk. “I guess she's settling in the apartment. Haven't seen her since we finished coffee and dessert. Which . . . was quite a while ago.” She sat in her side of the car. He walked behind the car and got in the driver's side.
Take a deep breath, try to
calm down. This isn't a big deal. Don't
give him such a hard time.

He pulled away from the curb and headed toward their townhome. “Guess this isn't a good time to tell you what Ray and I talked about.”

She didn't answer.

“Things are really coming together for this orphanage plan. I figured it would take months for some of the things that have already started happening. Guess I got caught up in the flow. I'd love to tell you about it sometime.”

She knew he meant right now. But she didn't want to hear
about it right now. She also knew if she didn't hear him out, he'd keep thinking about it the rest of the afternoon and evening. It would sit on top of anything else they did. “Why don't you tell me about it now? Not all the details, just the headlines. You can talk until we get home.”

He smiled. That broke the tension.

“Well, you know it's all about the kids, the ones living in that dump called Korah. Ray said all the guys are having the same trouble I'm having reconnecting with life back home. He's feeling it too. I think if you had come on this trip with me, you'd know exactly what I'm saying. They're just living every day in that place, rummaging through garbage to find something to eat. Day after day, week after week, with no hope of it ever changing. I can smell it right now just thinking about it. You can't imagine it, Michele.”

And she didn't want to. “We're gonna be home before you know it. You already told me all this.”

“Right, well . . . did I tell you about this guy named Henok? He grew up in Korah.”

“I'm not sure.”

“He's the one who brought us there, the one who told Ray about it in the first place. Anyway, Ray asked him to coordinate everything over there for us. He plans to make him the orphanage director, I think. Once it's all set up. The thing is, Henok emailed Ray a pretty lengthy update. So far, it's all good news. It looks like God is opening a wide door for this thing to happen. The local government is open to the idea, especially when they heard it wouldn't cost them a dime.”

“So where's the money coming from?” Allan took care of the bills, but he always went over them with her, once a month. She dreaded the thought of their next financial chat
when the tally for all these mission expenses came in. Not to mention the fact that he used up precious vacation time on these trips. Time they could've spent together.

“Our church for one,” he said. “Ray said the elders are meeting this week to discuss the idea of our church making this orphanage part of their mission budget. Sounds like each of the other guys on the team are talking to their churches about the same thing. We might be able to pull this thing off with just that level of commitment. Things over there are so much cheaper. That's kind of where I come in.”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm going to put together the battle plan, lay out all the different expenses involved in setting up and running this orphanage. That's part of the reason why I was late. Ray helped me hammer out all the different categories. My job is to figure all that out and give the team a bottom line. A financial goal to shoot for. Well, that's the first part of my job.”

Allan's face was all lit up. She wished she could share his joy. All she could think about was how much more of his time and attention—his spare time and attention—would go to this. And how much less time and energy he'd have to spend with her.

“Is anything wrong?”

She looked through the windshield. Their street was just ahead. What should she say? “Did you even remember I have a doctor appointment this week?”

“What?”

She could tell by the look on his face, she might just as well have asked if he remembered she was taking a trip to the moon.

“I guess I didn't. Why? Is something wrong? Are you okay?”

Be careful, she thought. It's not his fault. “No, I'm not okay. There's something very wrong with me, or with you. Maybe with both of us. That's why I'm going to the doctor. We can't seem to have children, and we've been trying for over a year. Remember?”

T
hat seemed to hit home.

Allan didn't respond but turned his gaze straight ahead. Michele could tell he was a little angered by what she said, but he was doing his best not to react. She didn't like fueling the tension between them, but she had to get his attention somehow. Allan couldn't multitask. He usually gave the lion's share of his heart to one thing at a time. The orphanage was clearly taking over.

They turned onto their street. Still no response. They turned down the one-lane alley that ran behind their row of townhomes. She felt pressure to say something accommodating or conciliatory but decided against it.

He pushed the garage door button, waited for the door to lift, then pulled in. After turning off the car, he turned and said, “Michele, obviously I'm not tracking with you here. I can tell you're upset with me. By the look on your face and what you just said, I feel like I should apologize. The problem is, if I did, it would just be to make peace. I don't feel like I'm doing anything wrong, and with the way you pick up on things, you'd notice that in any apology I'd try to make. So help me understand what's going on here? You know how much these African mission trips mean to me. This isn't a
new thing. I've been going there since before we met and all through our engagement. I never hid from you that this is something I wanted to keep doing after we were married. I remember you even saying that it was okay, that my love for missions was part of why you were attracted to me. Do you remember saying that? Because I do.”

“I do remember,” she said. “And I remember meaning it when I said it.”

“But you don't mean it now? You're not okay with it anymore?”

“No, that's not what I'm saying. At least I don't think that's what I'm saying.”

He turned the car's ignition partly on, enough to lower the power windows. “Then what?”

What should she say? How did she really feel? “Allan, I think the problem is . . . neither of us considered we'd have a hard time conceiving children. You know how much I've wanted children. I never hid that from you.”

“I want them too. We don't disagree on that.”

“But in a way,” she said, “we do. Not on whether we should have them, or even how many. But you seem content to just let it happen whenever it happens.”

“I don't think we have much choice. We don't have any control over what's going on.”

“See, I don't agree with that. There are all kinds of medical things to consider. That's what this doctor appointment is about, to start pushing those buttons, find out what's available. If there's a medical reason keeping us from having children, there might be a medical fix.”

“Okay, I agree with that. But I don't see the problem. You're going to the doctor. I'm not against it or trying to stop you.”

Lord, help me explain this without getting
angry.
“You're
not trying to stop me, Allan. But you're also not really with me in this. I don't feel your support. I feel alone, like I'm carrying this all by myself. On my radar, it's a big glowing green dot. So big it dominates the screen. I think on your radar, it's a teeny little blip. A dim light that only flickers a few moments at a time, usually after I bring it up, and then it dies out.” She looked into his eyes. He was getting this, some of it, anyway. “You know what's the big green dot on your radar? The one dominating the screen?”

He nodded. “Korah.”

“Right. Korah and this orphanage. Which I'm sure is a very good thing. And I'm sure those kids need all kinds of help. And I'm sure you'd do a great job helping them. And I feel totally guilty and totally selfish for even bringing any of this up. But I'm the one you married, Allan. I'm the one here every day. I feel terrible about the condition of those kids at Korah, but somehow, I feel they've taken your heart away from what I'm dealing with, and I'm not sure you understand how much I'm hurting now. I haven't been able to tell you about my own pain because I don't want to upset you or stop you from helping those poor kids.”

Those rotten tears began to well up in her eyes. “And I don't want to go through this infertility trial alone. I need you to care about this too. Maybe not as much as me, but a whole lot more than you seem to care about it now.” She opened the glove compartment and pulled out a napkin.

He reached across the seat and took her hand. “You have no reason to feel guilty for anything you just said. The kids living in that dump are not more important than you are and what you're going through right now. Not to me. I know it may not seem like that right now. Not by the way I've been acting since I got home.”

He paused, as if thinking through something he wasn't sure how to say. “Some people might think orphan kids eating decent food is a whole lot more important than whether you and I are having problems getting pregnant. But I don't believe that's how God operates. Jesus said the Father knows when a sparrow falls to the ground. He knows how many hairs are on each of our heads. He's got the capacity to care just as much for those kids as he does for you, Michele, and what we're going through here with you trying to get pregnant. I'm the one with the capacity problem. I've gotta figure out a way to care about more than one thing at a time. But I don't seem to know how to do that.”

She dabbed the remaining tears in her eyes. “I love you, you know. With all my heart.”

“I know,” he said. “I love you too. I guess I just need some help figuring out how to love you the right way.”

“This is helping,” she said.

“Do you mind if we finish talking in the house?” he said. “I'm really starting to heat up sitting here.”

“Yeah, let's go inside.”

He closed the windows and they got out of the car. Once inside, she saw his countenance change. “What's the matter?”

He set his keys, phone, and spare change on the hutch where he always put them. “It's just . . . at the meeting I had with Ray, I kind of agreed to do all kinds of things to help get this orphanage thing going.”

“You know I'm not asking you to drop that, right?”

“I was kind of thinking that was the point of this whole conversation.”

Michele laughed.

“What's funny?”

“You. The way you think. You really can't see yourself juggling both of these things at the same time.”

“I guess I can't. I haven't been able to so far.”

“Well, you're in luck.”

“Why?”

“Because you're not a single guy. Because you married me. Remember that thing we learned in premarital counseling, about biblical roles? You know, between men and women.”

“I remember we spent one session on that. But I remember the outline was quite a few pages. What are you thinking about?”

“I'm thinking about what God meant when he told Adam that he was bringing Eve to serve as his helper. Remember what the pastor said about that not being what most people think? That God didn't intend for Eve to be Adam's little helper, like some junior assistant. By calling Eve his helper, God was pointing out how much Adam
needed
the help. And that was part of what God meant when he said it's not good for man to be alone. You, my love, are not alone. You've got gifts, and I've got different gifts. And in this situation, my gifts can help you be able to do the things you told Ray you would do. And still have room in your heart to care about me and help me with this infertility challenge.”

He put his arms around her. “I like the sound of this
helper
thing. But I don't see how you can fix my problem. I think I'm hardwired this way.”

“You are, on your own. But you're not on your own. Not if you let me help you.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“I'm going to put on some coffee while you go up and change that sweaty shirt.”

He looked down at it. “I think I need a quick shower.”

“Even better,” she said. “When you come back down, I'll have the coffee ready. We'll sit down at the table and work out a plan. I think what you need is to make time compartments for these things.”

“Time compartments?”

“I'll explain more after your shower. The idea is to block out time for the important things and actually write them into your calendar. That way they don't sit around inside your head and clutter things up. We'll figure out how much time you can safely give this orphanage project, and your job will be to live inside the boundaries we set. It's like how we budget the money, only with time.” She reached up and kissed him. “Now go get your shower.”

“What about your nap?”

He released her, and she walked toward the kitchen. “I'm not tired anymore.”