“The Church of the Holy Mission does not recognize divorce,” Daybreak said. “In our eyes, divorce is—”
“—a pernicious invention of man,” I finished for him. “Uh-huh, so I’ve been told. But that doesn’t change the legality of Ms. Wade’s decree. Or her unwillingness to remarry her ex-husband, which is what he keeps pestering her to do.”
Kerry blew her nose loudly, as if in emphatic agreement.
Daybreak said, “May I ask the nature of your involvement in the matter, sir?” I seemed to have lost my status as his brother; now I was just plain “sir.” “Are you Mrs. Dunston’s attorney?”
“It’s Ms. Wade, and no, I’m not her attorney. I’m a friend of hers, a close friend. Dunston has been harassing me, too.”
“Ah,” Daybreak said.
“Ah?”
“Ah.”
“All right,” I said testily, “I confess: I’m a fornicator. What of it?”
Kerry suppressed a giggle and blew her nose again. It sounded like a goose honking.
“Your confession saddens me,” Daybreak said. “It comes without shame. There is so much sin in today’s world, so little shame.”
“And I suppose the Moral Crusade is going to reverse the trend?”
“We will do our part,” he said passionately. “Yes, we will.”
“Well, let me tell you this,” I said. “Sinners have rights, too, the same as moral crusaders. And one of them is the right to live our lives without interference—”
I broke off because Daybreak was shaking his bald head. He said, “Sinners forfeit their rights until they renounce their wicked ways. God has no patience with those who spurn His teachings, who foul the paths of righteousness.”
“Did He tell you that?”
“Sir?”
“Do you talk to God, Reverend?”
“Of course.”
“Does He answer you?”
“Of course.”
I was starting to get flustered, which in me is one step shy of losing both my patience and my temper. I said, “And I suppose He told you it’s okay for a man to hound his ex-wife just because he—”
“A man does not have an ex-wife, sir,” Daybreak said. “When a man marries it is for his lifetime and that of his wife’s; in God’s eyes it is for all of eternity. If his wife should leave him he is justified in demanding that she return to his house and his bed.”
“No matter what she wants, is that it?”
“It is what God wants that matters.”
“There are laws—”
“God’s laws are higher.”
I could feel myself sliding toward the edge of unreason. And at this point I was not even sure I wanted to stop the slide. I said, “Listen to me, Daybreak. I’ve had just about enough of—”
“Oh, stop it,” Kerry said suddenly. “I’ve had enough of this myself.”
Daybreak and I both looked at her. She sneezed, blew her nose, snuffled, and said to him, “You win, Reverend—you and my ex-husband both. I can’t fight it anymore. I’ll go back to him.”
I gawked in disbelief. Daybreak beamed. “The Reverend Dunston will be pleased to hear that, my dear,” he said. “Surely the Almighty will be, too.”
I said, “Kerry …”
She ignored me. “Does Reverend Dunston live here at the church?” she asked Daybreak.
“Oh yes. He has an apartment in our main house.”
“Then that’s where I’ll be living, too?”
“Yes. You’ll find it quite comfortable.”
“But you know, I’m not going to remarry him.”
“There’s no need, my dear. You’ve never been un married.”
“Oh, I understand that,” she said. “But I wonder if everyone else will.”
“Everyone else?”
“Everyone in your flock. And everyone in the Bay Area, not to mention other parts of the country. And especially NOW and the other women’s organizations. Oh yes, and let’s not forget the American Civil Liberties union .”
“I don’t understand …”
“Well,” she said, “the Church of the Holy Mission may not believe in divorce or the individual freedom of women or the laws of the land, but a lot of people do. I’ll bet the newspapers will be delighted to hear from me.”
“Newspapers?”
“Yes. As soon as I move in with Ray … I mean the Reverend Dunston … I’ll call half a dozen papers and tell them both your church and your so-called moral crusade sanctions the keeping of women in religious bondage.”
“Bondage?”