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And I do feel at home. Nothing has changed from the time June lived here, just weeks ago. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that everything would be the same.
“Josie.” I hear my name. I’d recognize that shrill voice anywhere. I turn to see Beth standing there, her hands on her hips. She’s displeased with me, as usual. “Thank God,” she says, taking the bottle of wine I’m holding. “You’re late. And we’re already out of white.”
Beth is my ‘sponsor,’ and has been from the time her husband initiated New Hope.
I smile and lean in to kiss both her cheeks. “It’s good to see you, too.”
She takes my hands and gives them a squeeze. “When are you ever going to learn to be on time?” she chides as she kisses each of my cheeks. It would be nice to say we’re on equal footing, Beth and I. But seeing that her husband is the founder of New Hope, that isn’t the case. In reality, we actually don’t care much for one another. But you wouldn’t know it by the amount of time we spend together. Mondays it’s coffee at my house at 8:00 a.m. sharp. Thursdays it’s tea at hers. Fridays we hold committee for the other wives, and sometimes we do brunch on Saturdays while our husbands golf. At New Hope, we treat religion like a twelve-step program. It works better this way.
“Everything is so organized,” Mel says, meeting my eye. “I just hope I’ve done my part.”
“You’ve done your part,” I tell her, thinking of June. I know I shouldn’t place the blame on her—she is so young, after all, but I can’t help myself. June was my friend, like Kate was my friend, only different. I offer a reassuring smile just for Beth. “You weren’t supposed to do anything, really,” I say, and it isn’t a lie. This time it’s my turn. “That’s why we’re here—to honor you.”
Beth raises her brow. “Josie is right. We want you to feel welcome.”
“Everything is so…well thought out,” Mel tells her.
Beth laughs and fans her dress. “We pride ourselves on excellence at New Hope.” A server stops by with a tray of appetizers. I watch as she carefully selects the one she wants. When she’s satisfied, she turns back to us. “Well, that’s the mission, anyway.”
“I’m very impressed. Tom speaks highly of the church—about how it changed his life.”
“Ah,” Beth says. She speaks firmly, authoritatively, as though she’s trying to establish her rightful place in the girl’s mind. Also, she never misses a chance to talk up the church. “Tom was perfect for New Hope from the get go. He’s very meticulous in that way.”
“That he is.” Mel lights up. “Sometimes I wonder how I’ll ever keep up.”
“You will,” Beth assures her. “You have us. We stick together at New Hope,” she says with a smile. “Also, this is why I wanted to introduce you to Josie. She is to be your sponsor.”
I do a double-take. This is the first I’ve heard of this.
Beth’s eyes widen. She looks thrilled. I can see she’s pleased with herself for breaking the news. “I think the two of you will get on quite well.”
Mel smiles in her naïve, girlish way. “I’m excited to learn the ropes.”
“You’ll catch on,” I say pursing my lips. “Although I think Beth would be the better woman to teach you.”
“Nonsense,” Beth laughs. “Who do you think taught you?”
“You have a point,” I agree. It’s easier this way. Beth did teach me everything I know. Even now, she’s teaching me.
“I’m just excited to really dive in. From what Tom has told me, it seems like you guys have created the perfect church home. And you know… it’s funny. This was something I’ve been searching for, for so, so long. I can’t even begin to tell you. And so…to know it was here—that it was out there all along—well—I just feel so blessed, you know?”
Beth’s palm flies to her chest. She’s touched. New Hope is her baby and every bit as important to her as her real children. This church and the way it works is her brain-child. It’s her whole life, a point she likes to drive home often. I watch carefully as she takes a quick breath in and lets it out. “We started the congregation hoping there were people out there like you,” she says, leaning forward. “But you never really know, you know? Some things just hit, while others don’t. Thankfully, we’ve been very fortunate with New Hope in that regard.”
I listen as she speaks, wondering how much I can still force myself to believe. Once upon a time I was as green as Mel. These days I wish I was that young, that innocent, that full of goodwill.
“Goodwill,” Beth says, addressing the group and suddenly I’m transported back to her living room, back to the beginning. She smiles proudly. “That’s what we need,” she adds, and back then she was as much of a liar as she is now. Back then, we didn’t need fancy buildings or recruitment strategies or weekly weigh-ins. Back then, we just needed each other. Or so I thought. Or so we all thought.
I can still picture her there in her tweed skirt and sweater, looking girlish and alive. We were all tired, in the early days of parenting and trying to build careers, this in addition to managing things at home while our husbands worked long, relentless hours. Beth was one of those women we all looked up to. Even if we didn’t exactly like her, we admired her, nonetheless. She didn’t look haggard or withdrawn like the rest of us. She was making a list and taking names, in heels and makeup, no less. With two well-behaved children hanging off each leg.
She extends her arms as though she’s been practicing for this speech her whole life. “We need to bring goodwill back into our lives. We need to bring excellence back to the table. We need to instill this in our children. We need to model it in our marriages.”
The seven of us nodded in unison. Her speech was moving. We were inspired. We all wanted a change. We all wanted to not feel so alone. Hell, what we all wanted more than anything was adult conversation, and for that reason alone, no matter what Beth had said, we would have agreed.
Then, while New Hope was in its infancy, a string of terrible events happened in our city, in our neighborhood, right under our noses, and what we all wanted more than anything was to know how we’d failed to see that women were being trafficked right under our noses. We missed that evil lived among us, disguised as friends and neighbors. We all wanted to know what we could do to avoid it happening again. To band together, as Beth suggested, seemed like as viable an answer as any. We had to get stronger, more exclusive; we had to protect ourselves, our children, our community. It was a game-changer for most of us. But it wasn’t what it is now. Back then, we were all scared—a different kind of scared than we are now. In those days, we were young and naive and full of hope. Full of belief that with each other and a few shifts we could change our lives. We managed that all right, and it changed everything.
“This is an agreement,” Beth said, passing out binders. “I want you to read over it and then we will all sign it.”
“And if we don’t?” I asked. “If we don’t sign?”
