Free Faith Wish by James Bennett Page B

mail. There were two letters for her, one from a Junior college and another from the high school. She took them upstairs to her room. Her television was on, playing a rerun of a cable religious program in which Billy Graham Junior was interviewing a born-again woman who was a former drug addict. Anne-Marie’s television was nowadays tuned to Channel 14 almost exclusively. She turned it off.
    With escalating anxiety, she tore open the letter from the high school. It was what she expected—the contract for summer school. It had Vice Principal Rosario’s signature now as well.
    It wasn’t until the early part of the evening that Anne-Marie got to spend some private time with Eleanor on the sunporch. The caterers were still cleaning up, but nearly finished. “Can I see your medal?” asked Anne-Marie.
    â€œSure.” Eleanor handed over the medal, resting on its cushion of velvet in its open black box. It was large, maybe two inches from top to bottom, a clear crystal in the shape of a teardrop. In the center was a three-sided obelisk, which looked like granite or marble, suspended magically to form an elongated, glittering pyramid in three dimensions. When Anne-Marie held it up to the window, in the evening light, its center bent the light like a colorful prism. She hoped it wasn’t a pagan thing, because it was truly breathtaking.
    â€œDo you have a chain for it?” Anne-Marie asked her.
    â€œNot that I know of,” was Eleanor’s reply.
    â€œThen how will you wear it?”
    â€œI don’t think it’s a medal for wearing, Baby. Where would you wear it? The Oneppo Medal is only for show, I’m afraid.”
    â€œIt should be for show because it’s so beautiful,” Anne-Marie replied. Jealousy reared its ugly head again. She put the medal back inside the box.
    â€œIt’s only an academic award and not worth all this commotion,” said Eleanor. She meant the press conference, of course, and the reception. Eleanor had changed into a pair of faded blue jeans and a Harvard sweatshirt. She stretched and yawned before adding, “Lots of people win academic awards, but they don’t have parents with resources or access to the press.”
    It was a typical Eleanor remark. So utterly self-confident she felt no need to show off anything for anybody. The medal might just as well have been a plastic trinket from the bottom of a Cracker Jack box. What the medal meant was that Eleanor was top of her class in the MBA program at the University of Chicago, which won her a full fellowship at Harvard Law School. What it meant to Anne-Marie was the most recent symbol of Eleanor’s spectacularly successful life.
    As she handed back the box, Anne-Marie tried to guard against the envy. The envy was a habit but it didn’t need to be, not anymore. The Bible warned not to covet; it didn’t say anything specific about coveting your sister’s life, but Anne-Marie felt certain that was meant to be part of the meaning. Then, without even realizing it, she had started to cry.
    â€œBaby, you’re crying. What’s wrong?”
    She wasn’t sobbing, but there were tears sliding down her cheeks. She tried wiping them with the back of her hand before she said, “Nothing. Besides, this is your day.”
    â€œI’ve had more of my day than I can endure,” said Eleanor with contempt. She made a sour face like she’d just taken a bite out of a lemon. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
    â€œI’m pregnant,” said Anne-Marie quickly, before her constricted throat could choke her.
    â€œOh no. Oh dear.” Eleanor put her arm around Anne-Marie’s shoulder. “Come here.” Anne-Marie let her head drop to Eleanor’s shoulder, but her tears began to flow again immediately.
    â€œWho’s the father?”
    Anne-Marie could only shake her head. She didn’t want to try to explain the Brother Jackson circumstance,