Mountain Top(61)
“That’s amazing about Sam Miller,” he said to Peg as Judge lapped up the water. “Every town doesn’t have a yardman who writes letters to save marriages.” “It should.”
Peg was filled with carefree chatter on the return trip down the mountain.
Mike tried to match her mood but couldn’t. Peg carried the knowledge about how close they’d come to divorce to the top of the mountain. He bore it down. Several times, he started to say something, but Peg’s reminder of the child growing within her stopped him. Never had such a tiny person exerted such great influence over him.
“How did you manage to keep your secret?” he asked finally. “Except for confidential information in my cases, I’ve never been able to keep anything important from you for more than a few days.”
Peg slowed her steps. “After I changed my mind, I was ashamed but still angry with you. If I’d said anything, it might have caused a huge fight that would have driven us farther apart.”
“What’s different now?”
“Sam and Muriel told me what I needed to do.”
Mike stopped. “That’s amazing.”
“Am I that hardheaded? Can’t you tell that I’m changing?”
“Yes,” Mike replied and started walking again.
“Do you like it?”
“Yes. But it’s—”
Peg glanced sideways as they rounded a bend in the trail.
“A challenge relating to the new me?”
“Just different. I’m a minister who is supposed to believe God transforms people for the better, but when my own wife tells me it’s happening to her, I wonder if I can handle it.”
“At least you won’t be bored.”
Peg took a few quick steps ahead down the trail. Judge ran along beside her. Mike plodded along in the rear.
They reached the parking lot. Mike went into the store. The Allen wrenches were waiting for him on the counter.
“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” the store owner said as he rang up the purchase. “How was your hike?”
“Not what I expected. You can always see farther from the top of the ridge.” Mike paused. “Today, I saw the past.”
Buzz tilted his head to the side. “Don’t mess with me, Mike. I have enough strange people from other parts of the country coming in here. I don’t need any of the local folks getting squirrelly.”
THAT NIGHT AFTER PEG WENT TO SLEEP, MIKE LAY IN BED WITH his eyes open. During the drive home, he’d decided his ignorance had been a disguised blessing. He’d not known his marriage was stalled on the train tracks until it moved out of danger. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he turned on his side so he could see Peg. A pale sliver of moonlight crept into the room and faintly illuminated her golden hair. He hadn’t admitted it to Peg, but his pride was deeply wounded by her secret rejection. He tossed and turned for a long time. He hoped the hurt would soon find healing in the hospital of his soul. Instead, he revisited the dream of the old woman who passed into darkness. She looked familiar, like Muriel, but distinctly different. He woke up wishing Peg hadn’t brought out the painting.
THE FOLLOWING DAY, HE SPENT SEVERAL HOURS WORKING OUTSIDE. Late morning, Peg joined him and together they planted flowers. Peg had a knack for landscape design, and their yard moved with grace from one season of the year to the next. Daffodils and tulips in later winter, day lilies in the spring, and mums in the fall. Kneeling beside each other, their hands frequently touched as they worked the soil. Once, Mike glanced up and saw Peg wipe her sleeve across her eyes.
“Why are you crying?” he asked.
“I’m happy. I know we’re dirty, but I’ve never felt so clean on the inside. Is this what it means to be forgiven?”
“Yes.”
Peg sat sideways on the grass. “And doing this with you is special. Do I need to ask you to forgive me today?”
Mike smoothed the soil around the flower he’d deposited into the ground and sat with his legs stretched out in front of him.
“No. I’m not going to be petty, but it may take a while for me to be healed.
When I counsel people, I tell them forgiveness forgets.”
“That’s impossible.”
“I know,” Mike admitted. “And I won’t be so glib to toss it out in the future until I’ve done it myself and can explain it better.”
“What would you say?”
Mike thought while they continued working. He put down the bulb planter.
“That the memory of a wrong isn’t stronger than the grace to forgive and go on.”
Peg smiled. “That would make a good sermon.”
SUNDAY MORNING ARRIVED. MIKE ENTERED THE PULPIT AREA. To his delight, Sam and Muriel Miller had returned.