Meant-To-Be Marriage

“Worse, Matt’s father worked on Wall Street. Both our families moved in the same social circles. To avoid humiliating questions, I stopped going over to his house. In time the church gym or the priest’s study became the only places I felt safe from gossip for the rest of my high school experience.

“After graduation Matt and I, plus a few other friends, traveled around Europe for the summer. We met women, we played and partied to our heart’s content. After three months of freedom from family problems, I was thankful to be starting Yale on a full academic scholarship for my undergraduate studies.”

Sydney knew him to be an extremely intelligent man. His admission only increased her admiration for him in the midst of so much heartache.

“My father had always hoped I would attend Princeton like my elder brother Drew, and join the family business after graduation. Liz was at Wellesley. But I wanted to go to a place where the Kendall name didn’t precede me at every turn. My father hated it that I didn’t need to rely on his money for my education.”

She shook her head. It was ghastly. All of it.

“He expected me to attend law school and take my place in the family corporation. But I was so chagrined over the strained relations with my parents and siblings who didn’t want to talk about our family’s problems, I found myself drawn to classes in psychology.

“My struggle to understand the dynamics driving my unha

ppy parents dominated any other plans I might have had.”

“I can understand that,” she murmured.

“At one point in my studies, a guest lecturer who happened to be a priest from St. Paul, Minnesota, well known for his successful counseling techniques, taught for a semester. His insights into people and relationships within the family unit captured my interest.

“During my last talk with him at the end of the semester, he suggested I attend seminary in St. Paul which combined earning a masters degree in professional counseling. I laughed and offered the comment that if I were Catholic, the idea would make a lot of sense to me.”

With every revelation, Sydney’s astonishment grew.

“I never saw him again and went on to graduate, at which point I broke up with the woman I’d been living with for a year.”

Living with? For a whole year?

“W-why didn’t you stay together?” Sydney couldn’t help asking, already insanely jealous of the other woman’s place in his life for that amount of time.

He flicked her a penetrating glance. “For the same reason you didn’t end up marrying Chip. I wasn’t in love with her, and she wanted to get married.”

His counter effectively silenced her.

“As soon as graduation was over, I returned to East Hampton and asked Father Pyke to teach me what I had to do to join the Church. In less than a year, I was baptized, confirmed, and received the Eucharist at the same time.

“To my father’s angry disbelief, not to mention the rest of my family’s utter humiliation and bewilderment over my decision, I left for St. Martha’s ministerial college in St. Paul where it all came together for me, setting me on a path that seemed to have chosen me.”

So that was how it had happened.

By now Sydney was on her feet, unable to sit still. The unvarnished truth was so different from her erroneous conjectures, she didn’t know what to say or think.

“The visiting priest who’d shown such an interest in me at Yale took me under his wing. Once I was ready to assume my duties, we talked about possible places I might go to.

“He told me there was a parish in Cannon, North Dakota, which had been in need of a priest for some time. He painted a charming picture of the Cannonball River of Lewis and Clark fame that flowed across the scenic plains past that rural southwestern community which had grown from a fort.

“I must admit that after the background and bitterness I’d come from, the idea of serving a population of 900 people of multidenominations who made up the little town, delighted me.

“Its reputation for Midwestern ethics of strong moral values and hard work held an irresistible appeal for someone who’d seen the opposite in action within the walls of my own home.

“After the bishop of the Bismarck diocese interviewed me, I was excited to be assigned there. That was ten years ago.

“In the beginning I determined to know my congregation’s hopes and fears, joys and sorrows. I lived in the midst of them, performed wedding ceremonies, baptized babies, counseled families and individuals.

“During the first eight years of my ministry, those things hadn’t been a distraction from prayer, but a source of my prayers. For me the parish was a sacrament, the window through which I found and viewed myself.

“To my satisfaction the numbers swelled after my arrival. I’d never been happier or enjoyed life more. Every minute was a joy…until I met one Sydney Taylor…”

A stab of fresh pain drove Sydney to bury her face in her hands.