Husband Potential

The tears rolled down her rosy cheeks. Her eyes seemed transfixed by the music.

Fran swallowed hard and took a dozen pictures in succession. There was no need to look anywhere else. Something told her that this woman was the one she’d been hoping to find in the audience, the one who reflected the feelings of everyone around.

Maybe Fran could find a subject this perfect in Australia, but she doubted it. The moment was an illuminating one. She felt the hairs stand on the back of her neck.

Driven by a compulsion she didn’t understand, she was anxious for the concert to be over so she could approach the woman. There had to be a story behind that face. Fran wanted to get it, not only for the article, but out of a burning curiosity.

After the Choir sang their last number, the audience must have clapped for a solid five minutes. No one wanted the concert to be over.

With purposeful steps, Fran insinuated herself into the crowd and waited at the end of the row for the woman to exit. While everyone around was expounding on the remarkable performance they had just heard, Fran approached her.

“It was a beautiful concert, wasn’t it?”

The woman whose face glistened with fresh tears threw her head back. “It was as wonderful as I remembered it back in Germany.”

“You heard the Choir there?”

“Oh, yes. Many years ago. When I was a little girl growing up in East Berlin, my mother told me that if I ever got the chance, I should get away to a place where I could be free to worship God. I didn’t know what she meant.

“Then many years later came détente. I fled with my family to Frankfurt. It was there I heard this beautiful music for the first time. Later, when we moved to Zurich, in Switzerland, I heard the Choir again. That’s when I found God.” She shook her head. “You can’t imagine.”

But Fran could. She’d even captured the woman’s ecstasy on film. “Thank you for sharing that with me,” she whispered. “I work for a magazine in Utah and have been taking pictures tonight. I took some of you. Do I have your permission to use them and your story?”

The woman smiled. “I don’t mind.”

“Thank you,” Fran murmured as she watched the woman rejoin her family slowly making its way out of the row into the crowded aisle.

With her own eyes tear-drenched, Fran turned to go the other way and found herself face-to-face with a man who could have been the monk’s twin, except that his hair was longer and he wore a suit and tie.

Hadn’t she read somewhere that everyone on earth had a double?

There seemed to be an air of unreality about the entire evening. Her heart was really being given a workout. First the woman, now this haunting face from the past, a face she’d tried in vain to forget.

Angry with herself for staring at him, she averted her eyes and attempted to step past him.

“Ms. Mallory?”

Fran froze in place. That voice.

“If you’re afraid I’m an apparition, I assure you I’m not.”

She whirled around, confused and disbelieving. “When I took the magazines to the monastery, one of the monks told me you were no longer there. I had no idea you’d come to Los Angeles.”

“I left the day after your last visit.”

Her breathing had grown too shallow. “I can’t say I’m surprised. You didn’t seem to fit the mold.”

His lips twitched. “You’re right about that.”

Once again his honesty disarmed her. “Did you run away?”

There was an almost imperceptible nod of his dark head. “In a manner of speaking.”

“Can a monk do that?” she cried softly. “I mean, aren’t there certain formalities you have to go through if you want to leave your Order?”

“Endless formalities, including petitioning for a dispensation from the Pope in Rome.”

Fran had only seen movies about nuns and monks. She had no idea about the process, except through film. She doubted Hollywood could ever produce a performance that portrayed the true anguish involved in such a decision, if one had been devout.

“H-Have you already been excommunicated?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

By now most of the people were making their way out to their cars. It was a good thing. Her shock would have been visible to anyone watching or listening.

“Are you in torment over your decision?”

He cocked his head. “Are you worried about my immortal soul?”

She could stand anything but his mockery. “In a manner of speaking, yes!” She parroted his earlier comment. “After the unorthodox way you treated me when I first came to the monastery, I didn’t see how you would survive there.”

“So you did think about me.”

Her eyes flashed. “You’re twisting my words.”

“I’m touched that you cared.”

Fran couldn’t take any more. Obviously the man had to be in pain, but it was nothing to do with her. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I’ve been too outspoken. It’s one of my worst faults.”

“I find that fault refreshing.”

She swallowed hard. “I had no right to say that to you. I don’t know anything about you or your life. I’m just surprised to see you here of all places.”

“Did you think I couldn’t appreciate a concert such as this?”

“Of course not. The Gregorian chant I listened to at the monastery was some of the most beautiful music I’ve ever heard. But that isn’t what I meant. “

“What did you mean then?”

“Surely I don’t have to explain it to you. We both happen to be in Los Angeles at the same time. The odds of our running into each other like this must be in the millions.”

“I was thinking the same thing when I discovered you talking to Gerda.”

Fran gave a little gasp. “You know her?”

“We met a long time ago. When she found out I was going to be in Los Angeles, she and her family invited me to come hear the choir’s performance with them.”

He studied her upturned features with avid intensity. Fran’s trembling legs would hardly hold her up.