Read Online I Hope You Dance by Beth Moran - Free Book Online Page B

hard not to grow bitter. Lois told us how between Connor’s nightmares, Poppy’s medical needs, an eight-month-old baby and a teenager who sometimes stayed out past two doing who knows what, she and Matt were surviving on three hours of sleep a night, and still an ungainly hunk of the four hundred Oak Hill members thought that Pastor Matt and his unpaid wife should be there twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week to sort out their problems, dry their tears, pick up the pieces of their bad decisions and listen to them harp on about how tough their lives were.
    â€œDon’t get me wrong – some of them do have genuine problems, and need our help. And we love to help them. But less than one per cent of those problems are emergencies needing to be dealt with during our off-time, half of them should and are being dealt with by the pastoral team, and the rest are nothing that with a bit of common sense and effort these flabby-bottomed people couldn’t solve themselves. A tiny, yet misguided, proportion call us at idiotic times of the day because they want to feel important. They think their problem is worse than everybody else’s and quite frankly they’retoo selfish to care that we are so, so tired we haven’t had a decent romantic evening together in four months and thirteen days. Yes, I am counting. And yes the word ‘romantic’ is a euphemism. I’m on the brink of yelling it out in the middle of Sunday’s service. Ruth, I’m presuming you’ve worked out these evenings are confidential.”
    I listened, and laughed, and cried a little bit, and did not feel for one second pitied, or a loser, or anything less than a normal human being who gets up every morning and lives and breathes and simply tries to do the best she can to take the muck life throws at her and build a nest with it.
    Somewhere around eleven, Lois went inside to make coffee. I cleared my throat, snuck a glance back inside the house and spoke.
    â€œCould we maybe do something for Lois?”
    Everybody leaned forward and listened.
    â€œI was thinking. Between us, maybe we could take care of the kids for a night so she could go away with Matt?”
    Rupa shook her head. “I don’t think it’s that simple. They’re foster kids, so aren’t allowed to be left with just anyone.”
    â€œSurely we could find some way round that. Have them go away, without actually going away?”
    We considered this. “I wouldn’t mind coming over and sleeping on the sofa, getting up in the night to see to the children,” Ana Luisa said. “But I don’t think this is very romantic to hear Connor’s nightmares through the wall, and listen to someone else try to comfort him.”
    Ellie tapped her fork against her glass. “They need to be near enough to make it legal and appropriate, but far enough away to pretend they aren’t.” She looked around. “What about the tree house?”
    â€œOr a caravan?” Rupa asked. “Is that romantic? I’ve never stayed in one.”
    â€œWhat about one of those VW camper vans? They’re cute. I bet you can hire them. We could park it in the garden.” Ellie mimed driving a camper van.
    â€œNo, no, no!” Ana Luisa waved her hands about to emphasize her point. “Too small. And can you imagine what the bed is like? Not good for romance! You might as well bring your horse box, Ellie.”
    â€œA tent would be bigger.” Ellie looked at Ana Luisa. “But it would be freezing at night now that we’re heading into autumn. And air beds are definite passion killers. Almost as bad as a water bed.”
    â€œOuch, Ellie.” Emily winced. “I do not want to know how you acquired that information.”
    â€œIgnore her!” Ana Luisa purred. “Tell us everything!”
    I was still thinking about other ways to sleep in the garden in relative comfort.
    â€œWhat about a yurt?