Chapter Six – Bitter Wine.
All I have is this pitiful note she sent months ago;
“Joseph, I’m all right. Don’t worry, my husband, I’ll be home soon. Joseph, I have wonderful news. My soul glorifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior. I love you, Mary.”
But, every night at twilight, just to satisfy myself, I looked down the road hoping to see her coming home. The view was breathtaking from the side of our little hill. I could see right past her father Heli’s cottage to the road south.
I could see anyone on that road as the sun set, but I wasn’t looking for just anyone.
It happened. I had to pinch myself. It was just a girl on a donkey, a silhouette is all. But there was something … I could tell it was my Mary, but wondered if I was dreaming—just wishful thinking. It had been over three months since I laid eyes on her. The longest three month of my life. I wondered if they were playing tricks on me.
No, she was unmistakable.
I started down the path, slowly.
Should I go to her?
Does she want to see me?
Have things changed?
Was I the fool?
The hurt and worry were deep.
She passed by her home.
She was coming up the hill.
Towards me.
I hoped.
This is ridiculous.
I started toward her. Cautious at first.
Then I picked up the pace. To run.
Mary.
My beautiful Mary is home.
Just as I reached her, she began to slide off her mount into my arms.
A glow on her face—she was radiant—heavenly.
But.
Wait.
What in the world?
I wrapped my arms around my Mary—and—this can’t be.
I stepped back to see if what I felt, on her stomach against mine, in our embrace was true.
But it was dusk and hard to see and her clothes were loose.
“Mary? What’s this? Are you? You’re not…”
“Yes, Joseph, yes, it’s true, I told you I have wonderful news. You did receive my note?”
“Mary, you are…?” I thought I was going to throw up right there, right then. I turned to leave.
“Joseph, wait. I can explain. This is wonderful news. Wait. Listen to me. Don’t leave. Can’t you just wait for one minute? Joseph, it will be fine. Joseph …”
The sound of her voice was fading as I stomped off.
I didn’t want to hear her.
To hear this.
I didn’t want to hear anything at all.
I can explain, she said.
It will be fine, she said.
I tore through the door, and slammed it behind. It rattled the whole house and frightened my dog Jonah. He came and reared up for his head-rub. I pushed him aside and continued out back and knocked a stool out of my way. I sat in the garden. The one I made for her. Then I tore it to pieces. Ripped the vines from the archway and slung them away. I kicked the flowers. Broke the pots. Grabbed the trellis to tear it to pieces, but just sank to my knees.
“Why, oh God, why?”
He didn’t answer.
I now had an answer to, Is the wedding still on? No!
I found my wine. The wine bought special for our wedding night. It tasted bitter.
Perfect.
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