An Improper English Mission, page 21
“Hi, Reverend Brown? My name is Amelia Goodale. I’m a member of Salt Rock, and I just wanted to say welcome to the Fellowship on behalf of all of us and tell you how happy we all are to have a woman in the pulpit for a change.”
“Why, thank you, Amelia. It’s very kind of you, and it makes me feel very welcome. Was there anything else you wanted to talk about?”
Olympia was absent-mindedly stroking her cat Cadeau, who had stretched himself out in a patch of winter sunlight on her desk next to the computer.
“Oh, no, not right now anyway, Reverend, but it’s sweet of you to ask. They said you were friendly and easy to talk to, and I guess you really are. I volunteered to be one of the ushers on the day you start, so I’ll there to welcome and introduce you.”
“That will be lovely. I’ll be looking forward to meeting you in person, Amelia. Thank you for calling.”
“Goodbye, Reverend.”
Olympia should have paid more attention to what it was about the conversation that had made her feel uncomfortable. She really should have, because if she had, things might have gone very differently.
Within a week of Olympia starting the job, Amelia began bringing little gifts. At first it was just a cup of coffee.
“I was on my way over here, and I stopped for coffee, and I remembered you drink coffee, so I got two. You don’t mind, do you?”
There was no possible answer to that other than, “Of course not, it was very thoughtful. Thank you.” Olympia really did like coffee, and this was fresh and hot. She pushed away the twice-warmed-over stuff she’d brought from home and reached for the paper cup.
“Um, Reverend?”
“Yes, Amelia?”
“Could I make an appointment to talk with you sometime? There are some things I probably should talk about with someone, but I never felt comfortable with Rev. Sommers. Maybe it’s because he’s a man, and I prefer women ministers, but he never acted as though he really cared about what I had to say. You’re different. I can see that already.”
Red flags started flapping all over the office, but fortunately only Olympia could see them.
“When were you thinking?”
“Well, I’m here right now, and I’ve got a few minutes, so I thought maybe….”
Olympia pulled a datebook out of her handbag and set it on her desk. “I have some time on Thursday at eleven. Could you come back then?”
Amelia looked crestfallen. “I hoped … I mean, it won’t take very long, but I suppose if you’re busy…”
She waited for Olympia to relent and invite her to sit down, but it didn’t happen.
“I’ve left this morning open for drop-ins, Amelia. I’m sensing you might want a more private conversation. I’m afraid we’d be interrupted, and that wouldn’t be fair to you, and I wouldn’t like that. I want to be able to give you my full attention.”
“You do?” The wary and petulant frown vanished, and suddenly she was all smiles once again.
“So can you make it on Thursday?”
“Gee, I don’t have my calendar with me. Can I call in and let you know?”
“You can leave a message on the church phone. I’ll be sure to check it.”
“I could call you at home.” A hopeful smile.
“I’d rather you called here. That way I’ll be sure to get it. My husband isn’t the best of message takers.”
“I’ll try, Reverend. It depends on when I get home. So you’re married?”
Olympia smiled and nodded. “That’s fine, just let me know, okay?”
“Sure, Reverend, and if there’s anything you need help with, just give me a call. I think it’s important to support the minister.” She lowered her voice. “Not everyone here does, so be careful—and you didn’t hear me say that.”
“Thank you, Amelia.”
When she left, Olympia sat staring at the door and shaking her head. Poor thing, she thought. She’d encountered her kind before, pathetically in need of attention and approval from the person in charge—the teacher, the parent, the coach, or in this case the minister. The trick was finding the right balance, enough attention and affirmation to let her know she was a valued member of the community but not so much that she formed an unhealthy attachment. Balance and boundaries were the key words here, and she was very familiar with them. Easy to say, not so easy to maintain. She knew that, too.
“Reverend?” Olympia looked up. Amelia Goodale was back. “There’s something else I meant to tell you.”
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Judith Campbell, An Improper English Mission
