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“Come on, Tom.” She took the dishtowel from my hand. “What do we have to lose?”
“Except everything?”
“I don’t think you’re seeing this clearly.”
“Why would I take a job with a church? I am not a religious man.”
“So? It’s a paycheck,” she said. She placed her hands on her hips. “What does religion have to do with balancing their books and investing their money?”
“Everything, I’d be willing to bet.”
She sighed heavily. This is what she did when she was defeated which wasn’t often. Or, as I was learning, not often enough. She motioned with her head toward the living room. “I’ll get rid of them,” I said but when I turned Mark Jones was standing in the doorway of our kitchen. “Now, now.” He held his palms face up. “There’s no pressure, here. Really. I’m sorry if we’ve given the wrong
impression.”
I lifted the tray from the counter and handed it to June. “Excuse me,” she said, looking from me to Mark and back. “I’ll leave you two to talk. I promised Beth more tea.”
I watched her walk out and then I turned my attention to Mark. “I hate to disappoint you, but I haven’t anything left to say.”
“Listen, Tom.” Mark said, leaning back against the counter. “I’m not going to lie. I, myself, was not always a man of God.” He glanced toward the living room, toward the sound of laughter, and then back at me. “But I think you’re missing the bigger point, and I don’t want you to miss the opportunity that goes along with it.”
“Like I said—”
“You see, the thing is… I can relate to your position. Adam is the real fanatic where New Hope is concerned. Me…I consider it more of a social experiment. A lifestyle, if you will. Along the lines of an exclusive country club—only—and I’m sure you can understand this—with tax benefits built right in.”
“I don’t think—”
He cut me off again. “What I’m really looking to create within the New Hope community is something that spans time, something that exceeds all boundaries of religion. I have a vision of the way things could be. And I was hoping you could help with this.”
“I don’t think that is possible.” I didn’t explain why. I didn’t think it was any of his business.
“Every religion follows a set of principles, if you will,” he said, glancing around the kitchen. “I want to create our own.”
I waited for him to continue. I, too, surveyed the kitchen. Everything was in order. Almost.
“Beth has already gotten started on this, but she can only see to a certain point, if you catch my drift.”
I didn’t catch his drift, exactly. Although, I had just briefly met his wife, and if he meant that she was a little on the unintelligent side, then yes. “Principles are not the easiest thing to create. Most of them already exist.”
“Precisely,” he agreed. “And you seem like a man who prides himself on excellence. I’ve seen what you can do. I’m aware of how meticulous you are.” He motioned around my kitchen. It wasn’t spotless. There was a speck of dried tomato sauce from last night’s dinner just above the range. He missed that. “We do not blindly make offers like the one your family has received. The goal with New Hope has never been to create just another church. We’re not interested in another run-of-the-mill Christian organization. No, we want something bigger. We want an entire community who prides itself on excellence. Just take a look around—”
I do, and it’s all I can manage to contain myself. I have the need to pick up the towel and scrub the leftover sauce. But I don’t. Somehow it seemed to do so would make his spiel less effective.
“Our society has lost its sense of standards. Just look at what’s happening in the world. Look how many people are either broke, obese, divorced, disease-ridden, or drug and alcohol addicted.”
I take account although I already know. Me, I’m broke. The bottle owns my best friend. My neighbor eats every meal out of a sack even though he’s had two heart attacks.
“We can fix this,” Mark assured me. “But it starts with us. I don’t know about you and June, but Beth and I want to surround ourselves with like-minded people. People who demand success of themselves and others. People who seek mastery in all areas of life. We want that for our children.”
I think of my children, the source of the laughter coming from the living room.
“Just think about it, Tom. What are we leaving for the next generation and the one after that? More of the same? The status quo?”
He has a point. “I don’t know.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll back off,” he said finally. “This is your call.”
“I just—”
