Page 4 of A Lesson In Beginning

After everything I had done for her, surely she would not have the gall — the nerve — to spurn me. Here we were, me without my husband or barely a penny to my name, my son standing beside me, now fatherless thanks to the turmoil she and that Temple family had inflicted. They had thrown our beloved community to the wolves, heedless and apathetic to the pain and strife that had struck each and every home. Marriages broken, families pulled asunder — it was tribulation unlike any I had ever seen.

“Good evening. Oh!” The door opened suddenly, my brother-in-law standing in the doorway, a look of pure shock written over his face that I almost could not see, his face shrouded in darkness as the light lit him from behind. “Um. Ruth?”

His voice boomed loudly, calling back over his shoulder for my sister. My back straightened, my shoulders squaring as I prepared for whatever reaction awaited me and my son in our hour of need.

We both stood there in silence as the awkward moment stretched on.

“Mama?” Samuel whined, rubbing his eyes and tugging at my jacket sleeve, wanting me to pick him up. I longed for nothing more, but now was not the moment.

“Soon, little lamb.” I murmured the words quietly, sparing a look past Leviticus, hoping to catch a glimpse of my sister. She was certainly taking her sweet time. I knew for a fact she had been raised better than to leave a guest standing on her doorstep. It would have appalled mother.

A few moments later, my sister appeared, dressed in what looked to be nothing more than her night robe. Try as I might, I simply could not keep my jaw from going slack, my mouth hanging agape at her deplorable appearance. Sure enough, as my eyes moved over her form, she was even barefooted. I could not imagine answering the door in such a state.

“Adah!” Her gasp of shock did not faze me. I would not appear weak in the face of these dire circumstances. I squared my shoulders yet again, reminding myself that it was her that put me here.

“Sister. Good evening.” As she stood there, clutching the front lapels of her robe up against her neck in what I could only describe as abject stupefaction, I felt the heat of my glare fall upon her form.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice was different. I couldn’t quite place how, but she was no longer the Ruth I had known growing up. There was a confidence about her, even in the moment's shock.

“Ruth.” Leviticus’ voice was low, meant only for his wife, though each of us could hear it clearly. He made a slight gesture with his head towards my son. I watched as her gaze followed. Just like that, she swooped into action.

“Oh, my go… um… please come in.” She stumbled over her words, opening the door further and ushering us both in. I smiled gently at her, and then at her husband as he took both my suitcase and the car seat from my hands. I steered my son into the doorway, giving off a smile that held no genuine emotion at the two of them for their hospitality — belated though it was.

As I walked my son and I through the door and into the foyer, I couldn’t help but notice that as my sister had rushed back to her senses and a semblance of graciousness and good hostess decorum, she had released her death grip on her robe, letting the lapels loosen at the nape of her neck, revealing a thick, black leather neck piece that resembled a dog collar.

I was only just barely able to hold back the look of disgust on my face at such an abhorrent article for one to be wearing. Was that how her husband treated her? Making her wear such an ornament that was only befitting a mongrel? For a split second, my loathing for my sister and her husband faded to make way for a suspicious concern for my sister’s well-being. After all, she was my sister first, before she married the traitorous Temple son.

“Adah, Levi will show you to the living room where you can both settle. If you’ll excuse me for a moment.” She shared a look with her husband, and, with a nod of his head, she turned to walk down the hall towards a beautiful staircase that sat to the right of the front door.

“Of course, sister.” My answer was barely believable, even to my own ears, but I let it go for the time being. I ushered Samuel into the living room.

“This is a beautiful home you have made for my sister, Leviticus.”

“Please, call me Levi.” I almost missed his courteous response as I focused solely on the horrible, shortened moniker.

“My son and I thank you for your hospitality. It was not befitting of me to call at such an hour and without notice; however, I did not have a way to reach either of you to warn you of our visit.”

“You are both welcome here anytime, Adah. Think nothing of it.”

“If you insist.” My son curled up on the couch beside me, laying his head in my lap, sleep finally refusing to be ignored a moment longer.

“If you don’t mind, I’m just going to run down the hall and check on Ruth. I’ll return momentarily.” With a nod of my head, I dismissed him, turning all my focus on Samuel. This was the last thing I wanted for the poor child, but here we were.

The moments stretched on for what felt like far too long, but finally, both Leviticus and Ruth reappeared.

“The poor thing seems plumb tuckered out.” Ruth’s kindness oozed from every word. A single look in her direction showed a mixture of love and pity on her face as she peered down at my son’s sleeping form. Thumb stuck in his mouth, he was the picture of innocence. If only I could keep him innocent of the evils of this world, but no, he would be forced to face harsh reality at far too young an age. My dedication to giving him a life he deserved redoubled.

“He has traveled far today. We both have.”

“Why don’t I make sure the spare room is situated for the both of you?” Leviticus’ kind words only further confused me.

“I’m certain my sister can handle that.” He met my protestations with waving hand gestures and shaking heads.

“Nonsense. I’ll take care of it.” Before I could utter another word, he was off down the hall.

“Should we let him rest while we head to the kitchen? I’d be happy to get you something to drink. Plus, we should talk.” Ruth laughed gently, but I couldn’t seem to get past the way she spoke. It was so… so… secular. Completely unlike our teachings of etiquette and proper speech in the Godly way.

“Of course.” I gently turned Samuel until he was resting on the sofa cushion, curled up and content in sleep. Ruth appeared beside me holding a blanket which she spread over his sleeping form, tucking him in with all the love any mother would show.

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