Nerds Unite

[Those emotes and their awful quality]

Anybody who visited the town got bored of it quickly though. He’d seen you for two Sundays in a row so it seemed Helen might be right.

She smugly informed of such at the dinner table that evening. “It looks like she might be moving into that empty house close to the Flanders. Apparently, she was being shown around a few days ago by a real estate agency.”

“Didn’t the woman who lived there die a painful and drawn-out death?”

“Well, yes but that probably means it’ll be available for a very good price. I can’t say she’s off to a good start if she disrupted the service like she did.”

By the time the next week rolled around, it appeared the town had already grown bored of its newest citizen. He spotted you hovering once more beyond the doors and considered inviting you to come take a seat. It couldn’t be too comfortable standing outside in the sun and listening.

As he was thinking of doing so, you slipped through the doors and took a seat at the very back, practically hidden in the darkest corner.

He gave a small tilt of his head in acknowledgement and continued, refocused his attention on nothing so nobody could ever accuse him of being too enthusiastic about what he preached. The last thing he needed was to invite another Ned into his life.

After he’d stepped outside to speak to all those who needed him (fortunately not many) and to bid his wife goodbye before she headed out to a brunch with her friends, he returned to find one person hadn’t quite moved. Your eyes still trained on the stained-glass windows, hair twisting in the light breeze.

He cleared his throat and you startled.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I got carried away looking at the windows,” you said and hurried to stand. “I’ll make my way out.”

He held up his hand. “No need to rush. If you’re searching for guidance, you’re more than welcome to spend your time here. Unless you find the doors locked which they will be from five to seven.”

You laughed and toyed with a strand of hair. “I wasn’t really praying, per say. I’ve just been admiring the windows for a few days now and I wanted to see how they look from the inside. The design work is phenomenal.”

He raised an eyebrow, curious. “I can hardly imagine anybody would visit the same building for three weeks just to look at the windows.”

“You’ve noticed?”

“If you’re going for inconspicuous, you ought to find a better hiding place. May I recommend behind the pipe organ.”

You laughed and your shoulders relaxed somewhat. “I’m sorry for hovering, really. I wasn’t trying to be secretive or anything but I’m still trying to get a proper feel for the town.”

“You’ve recently moved in.”

“I got a job nearby so I had to. I’ve explored most of the areas now but something about the church kept calling me over.”

He nodded solemnly. “Seems the Lord might be calling for you then. Our sermons are open to any who have willing hearts. You don’t need to hide in the shadows at the back of the hall.”

You laughed, soft and sweet. “I’m afraid I’ve grown rather fond of the spiders though.”

He glanced past you to see that there were a fair number of webs there. He sighed. It really was impossible to keep this place clean. Though Helen sometimes helped (and he refused to let Ned near him for that long), it felt continuously dirty.

“They’re as welcome as anybody else I suppose.”

You smiled and straightened your clothing which were likely to end up in the gossip mill around town if anybody saw them. Most of the woman took it upon themselves to enforce a rather strict modesty rule in the church that he never really cared too much about. They certainly wouldn’t approve of any of the outfits he’d seen you wearing.

Maybe that was why you hadn’t approached any of the others in town yet. Something might have warned you about their more judgmental nature at times.

Your gaze flicked to the windows once more and you smiled. “Praying’s never really worked before. Maybe it’ll be better this time.”

“The Lord answers us when we need him to,” he said, his answer almost instinctual. He’d needed to respond to so many with the same sentiment that he only paused when your expression fell somewhat.

“I guess there’s no harm in trying,” you admitted. “Thank you.”

And you left so quickly he didn’t even realise he hadn’t gotten your name. He glanced at the spot you’d been sitting in and wondered if he should try and get rid of the spiders before deciding it wasn’t worth the effort. If they bothered you enough, you’d probably eventually chase them by yourself.

The next time he saw you, he finally got your name.

He’d always considered Helen’s friendship with the Flanders rather unfortunate because it meant even more exposure to them than he wanted. The frequent bowling was, at least, one of the better options when it came to spending time with them.

Helen noticed you first, sitting with a small group that he only vaguely recognised. Certainly not churchgoers but perhaps your co-workers? You did appear far more comfortable with them than you did in any other interaction he’d had with you.

“Isn’t that your new neighbour, Maude?” Helen asked.

Maude gave a small smile. “It is. She’s quite lovely, you know, just very quiet. The boys always want to go and play with her dog but to be entirely transparent with you, I’m weary of letting them. I’ve never seen the animal so I don’t know what breed it is and some can be a little more inclined to bite than others.”

They probably wouldn’t be happy unless it was the size of a chihuahua but he didn’t say anything. The family feared just about everything.

“Quiet is one way to describe it,” Helen said. “Nobody knows anything about her except how she works in the accounting department for that horrible Mr. Burns and you know the standards of people he has working for him.”

“Rather unfortunate that he provides employment for half the town in some way or another,” he remarked dryly.

“But there are still plenty of places to work which don’t involve helping such an evil man,” Helen said with an affected shudder. “I still remember when he stole the sun.”

“She can’t be too bad though,” Ned said as he chose his ball. “Not many young girls like her willingly come to church. I invited her to come sit up front with us just the other day but she said she preferred her spot in the back. Not sure why but as long as she’s hearing the good word, I’m just chuffed she’s there.”

“Maybe she likes the spiders,” he drawled and met three very confused looks before he realised it didn’t make sense out of context.

Thankfully, Maude saved him from having to explain when she raised her hand to wave you over. You stepped away from your game and strolled over to say hello – clad in an ill-fitting bowling shirt that had to be loaned from somebody. Yet despite being a few sizes big, it somehow suited your look.

“Hey there neighbourino,” Ned greeted cheerily. “Didn’t know you bowled or I would have invited you to come with.”

“Oh, thank you but I don’t really bowl. A few guys from work invited me out so I thought I may as well give it a shot. They loaned me one of their shirts too but it’s a bit…” You pulled on the side to emphasis its size.

Ned laughed and nodded. “Well, if you end up enjoying it, you are more than welcome to come with us sometime. Say, have you met the reverend and his wife properly?”

Your gaze flicked to him and for a second, his mouth felt a little dryer than usual. You offered the same nervous grin you always gave him and finally provided him with a name before you shook his hand, grip featherlight.

“You work for Mr. Burns from what I hear,” Helen said after she’d introduced herself. “That must be so much fun.”

“Not really,” you admitted. “It’s pretty boring. I mostly keep track of expenses around the nuclear plant and try to limit them where I can.”

“Doesn’t really sound like the type of job you move all the way to Springfield for.”

“It’s not too bad. I didn’t have any real roots back home so when the opportunity presented itself, I just took it.”

“Really? No husband? Kids?”

You shook your head. “Neither.”

Helen laughed and nodded in understanding. “Don’t worry, you’re not missing much. My daughter has been causing so many problems lately. I feel like I’m getting a call from the principle on a daily basis.”

“Helen,” he said softly, pleading with her to quieten.

He knew she loved all gossip equally but he preferred it when it didn’t surround his family. He certainly didn’t need to form a reputation as a poor father around every newcomer to town. It was bad enough they had to constantly shell out money to replace whatever Jessica stole or broke at school.

You shifted your weight awkwardly. “You have a daughter? That’s lovely.”

“Sometimes but you know, she’s a bit much. I can only hope she’ll grow out of it.”

Maude nodded in agreement. “I’m hoping my two will get a little stronger as time goes on. They’re so sensitive to everything and I’m worried they won’t be able to handle the real world sometimes.”

Ned placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry Maude, they’ll be fine.”

You smiled and mentioned returning to your game, clearly somewhat uncomfortable with the conversation. He watched you for a little bit before he returned to his own bowling, content with no longer thinking about anybody new in town.

“She looks like she came from a big city,” Helen said, breaking his illusion. “They all have the idea they’re better than us in some way.”

“I think she’s just shy,” Maude said with a small smile. “She helps out where she can.”

He could mention how long you sat in the church after sermons, eyes trained on the windows, but he imagined that might cause more interest. Part of him was curious as well. It sounded like you might have moved away for more than a boring job and an empty house.

Maude was right though. You showed a keen interest in helping when the next Sunday, he drawled, “If you keep staying this late, I’m going to sign you up as a volunteer.”

You immediately asked what it entailed, which was a problem because he didn’t actually have much for a volunteer to do.

Maybe he’d misread the situation. Maybe you weren’t praying for some salvation or escape – perhaps you attended the church because you were bored. You certainly seemed eager when he found a few tasks you could help with. Take attendance, help clean some of the building, and do some research on topics for the next service.

You helped him set up the pipe organ when it needed tuning and gave ideas for small events the church could host to bolster attendance. It was actually very helpful but you arrived whenever you could and he started to wonder.

“I do hope I’m not taking you away from your actual job,” he said one day when he arrived to open the church and found you sitting against the locked door, a book in your hand.

You stretched as you stood, the edges of your shirt rising up above your hips just enough to notice. “The only thing I’m missing out on is lounging around at home. I don’t have too many things to do in town just yet.”

“There’s always walking your dog,” he commented.

“Oh, I don’t have a dog. I’ve been thinking of getting one though.”

He frowned but didn’t comment on it. What were the Flander boys chasing after if not a dog?

“I’m so glad you’re here!” Helen said excitedly and handed you a rather large box of baked goods that had been donated. “We need to make sure all of these are appropriate before we set them out. Last month, somebody put toothpicks in a few of the cupcakes to ‘hold up decorations’ and children can get badly hurt by tricks like those.”

You smiled somewhat nervously and he just opened the church doors.

Maude and Ned arrived somewhat later and your discomfort only grew as more people arrived after them and the church grounds became more crowded than they had been at any sermon.

The church hosted this bake sale to raise funds every month and most families brought goods to be sold. The Simpsons had been banned some time ago but occasionally they still slipped in so Helen was on constant watch.

He had a headache before the first hour had even passed.

He noticed when you disappeared into the main building, promising to come back soon with something or the other. When you didn’t come out again, he took an opportunity to follow, curious if nothing else and more than willing to take advantage of a brief break from having to speak to people.

He found you buzzing around the announcement board as though looking pointlessly for something. “Are you alright?”

You startled and gave an awkward smile, quickly snatching the poster for the bake sale off the wall. “Somebody was uh, looking for this. They wanted to know what time it would be running until.”

“I see.”

You tried a smile though it really came out more as a grimace but didn’t seem willing to leave. Instead, you turned your attention to the board again. “I noticed there was an auto show next weekend Saturday. Do you know if it’s like a weekly thing or…?”

“It’s once a year,” he said, glancing at the poster to note where it said annual. “They have more than cars.”

“Oh, that’s pretty interesting.”

You took a deep breath and smiled. “Right. I should probably get back out there then.”

He watched you take two steps before he impulsively asked, “Would you be interested in going?”

“Sorry?”

“To the show,” he clarified. “I have a spare ticket if you did want to.”

Your excitement bubbled up slowly. “I mean, I would definitely want to but I don’t know if I’ll even have the day off. I’d have to see if I’m needed on Saturday.”

“Well, let me know.”

He didn’t know why he’d lied. He didn’t actually have a spare ticket – he’d only bought himself one knowing that Helen wouldn’t really be interested and more likely wanted to spend the day with her mother.

Yet when you approached him toward the end of the sale and asked if the offer was still available, he didn’t find himself exhausted at the idea of buying another ticket.

He only later realised how it might look if he took you alone and begrudgingly took the phone to invite Ned and his family. It was lucky that people had been fairly generous with their donations lately because he ended up buying an additional five.

“It’s for the highest attendance rate to sermons,” he explained when Ned asked why the sudden invite. “Based on how long they’ve lived here.” He quickly added the last part.

It wasn’t too busy and she looked more excited than he anticipated, early discussing some of the cars with Marge and showing the kids somethings they’d like. The awkwardness you’d had was fading and he found himself somewhat happy to see it.

“Reverend?”

His title in your voice startled him more than he’d expected it. Had you ever called him that before? No, most certainly not. He rather liked the way you said the word.

“Yes?”

“Ned mentioned you’re quite fond of trains. They have a whole section for some older models if you’d like to go see them next?”

He agreed and followed you through the thin crowds, ignoring the strange fluttering in his chest. Must have been something he ate. The Flanders split off for a short while to see if they could find healthy food for their kids and you followed him around curiously as he appreciated the trains.

“I do prefer the model versions,” he admitted. “But they’re very impressive at any size.”

“Do you create your own tracks and backgrounds?” you asked and he nodded proudly.

“I do. It takes hours of dedicated work but it’s mostly worth it. So long as I don’t get distracted and end up accidentally ruining any of my trains.”

You hummed, interested and he began to offer small pieces of interesting information about the various trains. You listened with rapt attention, occasionally giving input but otherwise listening as though he was giving a small sermon though considerably more passionately than he usually did.

“I actually rode in one of these to Springfield,” you said as you passed one of the trains. “It was quicker than driving but I didn’t want to leave my car in the back alone so I stayed with it.”

“That’s some dedication for a job.”

“And a house. I technically inherited both just from different people. I was already sort of working in the industry so I had the experience and I wasn’t tied down anymore.”

“Fortunate.”

“I know. There are benefits to being alone sometimes.”

His instinctive reaction to your mood dip was to give the standard response; tell you the Lord had plans and all you needed was to trust him. Yet something stopped him from giving the default sentiment.

“Well, aren’t you unlucky to have made so many friends here then?”

You laughed. “I haven’t made that many.”

“It seems as though you’ve charmed quite a few people in this town.”

“What about us? Are we friends, reverend?”

There was his title again and the strange discomfort in his stomach. He gave a small hum in answer. “I imagine so.”

Helen looked ready for a fight when he arrived home. Accusation seeped through her greeting as she crossed her arms over her chest. Luann had phoned to ask if she knew her husband had been spending time with another woman and she’d had to lie to say she already heard about it.

“My mother and I would have come with,” she said. “If you bothered to invite us.”

“You have no interest in going usually,” he pointed out. “But if you would like to join us, you are more than welcome to next year.”

She huffed. “I don’t want to go but if you’re going to be flitting around with some woman outside our marriage then the least you can do is tell me. Do you have any idea how wild the rumours would go?”

He tried his hardest not to look too exasperated. More than half of those stories came from her. “I’m surprised none of them have started wondering if we’re divorced given how often we fight in public.”

“Everybody has marriage problems in this town,” she said with a wave and a small laugh. “I’d say we’re the most stable of the lot.”

“That’s not a good thing.”

“We wouldn’t fight so much if you weren’t so cold, you know,” she said. “Everybody talks about it already. You’re more interested in those trains than you are in me.”

“The only possible way people would speak about that would be if you told them.”

“I have to talk to somebody when you’re not around.”

She was right, he supposed. He’d tried back when they first got married after her senseless gossiping gave them no other option but he’d grown less caring when nothing built the relationship properly. If they spoke nicely to one another, it was only about other people or the church.

And sometimes, he really didn’t want to speak about the church anymore.

“I am around. We live together.”

“You’re also boring, Tim, alright? Talking to you sometimes is like listening to nails get dragged down a chalkboard slowly. Why do you think everybody falls asleep constantly or runs away? You’re not fun. You’re not interesting.”

“You certainly didn’t feel that way when you told all your friends we were getting married barely a month into dating.”

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, don’t bring that up. You said it was fine because we both wanted it.”

“Maybe if I’d had the time to date you for a little while longer, I would have changed my mind.”

He hadn’t snapped in ages and the frustration brewed beneath his skin. The regret came almost immediately but Helen stared at him with almost no care. Then came the realisation of how little she worried about his sentiments and with it, a stab of hurt at the lack of interest she showed even now.

“I don’t want us to earn a reputation for being unhappily married,” she said. “Not unless it comes from me first. Otherwise, everybody in town is going to be talking about how I’m not satisfying you.”

She wasn’t and he felt he might not be providing her with any happiness either.

“I haven’t done anything with her,” he said.

And Helen scoffed and waved her hand. “I don’t care if you have or haven’t. Visit every tramp in town if you really want to but at least allow me to be the one who spreads the story.”

He didn’t even know how to respond to it.

The days after that argument stretched out like they never had before. He spent all of his time on his trains or making up excuses to go to work. They weren’t speaking. She barely glanced at him in passing as he stalked past the kitchen.

His bad mood followed him around like a cloud, dark enough to even ward off Ned for the majority of the week. He walked the dog so many times it eventually lay down and refused to get up until he left. When he overheard Helen discussing their fight with somebody on the phone, he decided to just leave the dog and walk by himself.

And, because God wanted to make his life harder, he walked right past you.

“You got a dog,” he said after he found no way to escape after exchanging quick greetings.

“I did. The boys next door kept trying to pet some weird raccoon living in my backyard so I thought this might help them avoid getting rabies,” you said with a laugh. “And I get some company so it works out.”

“That’s always good.”

He shouldn’t hover near you too much if he wanted to shake the remarks but there was something soothing about speaking to you.

“I didn’t know you walked in this neighbourhood,” you admitted. “We’re pretty close to my place and I know sometimes Ned can be a little overbearing.”

“Ever so slightly,” he said slowly. “I walk sometimes when I need to clear my head.”

“Oh, of course. Maybe I could interest you in a cup of coffee?”

He wanted to accept. It sounded far better than strolling around aimlessly but Helen’s accusatory tone still lingered in his head and as he looked at you with your soft smile, he felt uneasy.

“No, no. I have choir practice to attend.”

“At this time in the evening?”

“The Lord doesn’t sleep, you know.”

“He should try it sometime,” you commented with a smile. “But before you run off, I heard there’s actually a restaurant inside a train in town. I’m sure you’ve been there a few times before so you must know if it’s any good.”

He knew exactly which restaurant you were talking about. “The food is alright, I suppose. Nothing special.”

“Aw that’s a shame. I guess I can’t surprise you with a dinner there,” you said with a tease and for a second, he faltered.

“Trust me, I was just as disappointed when I found out,” he mused.

“I’ll find somewhere else.”

He spoke before he even thought the words through. “I look forward to it.”

When he got out the car on Sunday, Helen swept around to link her arm through his and plaster on a smile as though they’d had a delightful conversation rather than a surly drive over. It wasn’t the first time they’d done this; he’d expected it to happen. He couldn’t help but feel it might be disingenuous.

He repeated his sermon from the previous week and not many paid enough attention to notice as he guessed. He’d done it before when he forgot to write something.

Helen walked out the church with him but instead of returning to assist with anything else, she disappeared with Luann without a word. He’d expected that too as well as needing to reassure Ned that his repetition was intentional.

You were sitting inside still, as you often did before helping organise anything and he loosened his robes as he walked past.

“Still here?” he asked. “Window-gazing again?”

“They’ve grown pretty boring,” you admitted with the slightest smile. “But I have to hang out with the spiders or they’ll think I’ve forgotten them.”

“Couldn’t have that.”

You got up to follow him to his office, collected all the smaller pieces as you went and dug out a lost coat from nearby. “This belongs to Luann’s kid,” you said. “I’ll drop it off tomorrow on the way to work.” You were glancing at him from the corner of your eye before you continued with the question you surely wanted to ask. “How’s your week been?”

“Living is a continuous trial,” he said. “It’s how we prove our faith to the Lord.”

You grimaced. “Must have been quite taxing if you reused a sermon.”

“Surprised you noticed.”

“I listen,” you protested with a good-natured smile. “Unless I’m late but I’ve gotten better at that, you have to admit.”

He actually couldn’t remember when last you’d been late to his service. You leaned against the corner of the desk, relaxed and easy. He realised you were likely waiting for instructions of some sort but he didn’t really have any.

“Maybe this week will be better,” you offered sympathetically.

“I wouldn’t count on it.”

In two days, they were due to call Jessica’s boarding school and get an update on her which always resulted in a fight. They disagreed on what to do about their daughter frequently and it spiraled into an argument about everything. Sometimes, he felt entirely unaffected by it but other times the emotion he forced down crept up again.

He shook himself free of his self-pity when you made a small humming sound. “Everything alright? You look… odd.”

He didn’t actually know what to make of your expression. Somewhere between nervous and upset; you kept thumbing at the corner of the library’s bible where it sat on his desk.

“Are you taking confessions now?”

You clearly meant it as a joke but his curiosity didn’t let him laugh it off. “I don’t usually but as long as you’re not going to admit to murder of any kind, I suppose I can try to offer my advice.”

“Oh no murder, just a slightly odd compliment.” You leaned a little forward as though you had a secret to share. “I don’t attend the church to hear about the bible. I just like listening to your voice.”

He scoffed at the idea. “I imagine you were suffering from insomnia or some other form of sleep deprivation.”

“No,” you said with a laugh. “I’m sleeping perfectly well.”

“The Lord does work in mysterious ways. Perhaps he gave you an increased tolerance to his glorified sleeping tablet.”

“Or you just make it interesting.”

“I doubt that.”

You quirked the corner up into the small, humoured smile you so often did. He couldn’t help but return the expression despite his mood. He appreciated your softness more than he wanted to admit; caught himself staring at you for a second too long as he thought over the idea of somebody wanting to listen to him.

His gaze met yours and you tilted your head to the side. “I have another confession, if you want to hear it.”

He should have stepped away when he noticed the whispered implication. Should have remained steady and reminded you he didn’t take confessions. Should have done anything but kiss you.

The soft, startled sound you made tasted sweet on your lips; your arm immediately wrapped around his neck as you returned the kiss passionately. He pressed against you, lost himself in the warmth of your mouth and the arch of your back as you steadied yourself against the desk.

One of your knees slotted between his own and the brush of your thigh made him groan. You twisted his tie to pull him closer still as you began to loosen it; rolled your body against his.

Finally, his brain caught up with what he was doing and he broke the kiss harshly. He stared with lips slightly parted as he tried to steady his breath.

He had so many ‘correct’ responses to give. Part of his mind was already urging him to pray for forgiveness. His guilt crawled up the back of his throat as he considered asking you to leave and you were bracing for that response. He could see the weariness in your gaze even if your eyes were heavily lidded and your lips kiss swollen. His tie hung in your hand.

He kissed you again with purpose and your soft moan shoved that guilt down once more.

You lifted yourself onto the desk, wrapped your legs around his waist and dragged him even closer. The perfume lingering on your skin was almost overwhelming. He buried a hand in your hair and gave a small tug to encourage your head back so he could trail kisses over your throat while you deftly undid the top buttons on his shirt.

The phone started to ring. You twisted your head away to glance at it but he caught your lips again; ignored its shrill for a few moments longer to lose himself in your softness before he answered it, your noses still brushing against one another.

“Reverend Lovejoy speaking,” he said and hoped whoever was on the other side didn’t notice how breathless he sounded.

He wanted to hang up the phone and go back to whatever it had dragged him away from. The bottom of your shirt had ridden up like it so often did and this time, he didn’t have to ignore it. He’d been ignoring many things about you.

Ned’s voice sliced through the spell like a knife and he straightened, moved ever so slightly away from the temptation of your lips.

“Reverend, I’m having a bit of an issue here. I think we might have hit a possum but the little guy scurried off before we got a good look. I’m just shaking with guilt not knowing if the poor thing got hurt or not.”

His own guilt crept back into his mind at the reminder. His response was short and clipped, something about God’s will, but Ned’s call felt too much like an accusation.

Yet despite that, all he could do was stare at you with your hair messed up and your gaze filled with happiness. A silence stretched out and all he could focus on was the press of your thighs against him. The consequences later would be the same thing if he kissed you again and he really, really wanted to.

But you spoke before he could do so, your voice breathy. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Certainly not.” A lie wouldn’t work if he wanted to but the admittance went without any move to disentangle himself from you.

“You’re married.”

“Technically.”

“Only technically?”

“It wasn’t too many days ago that my wife told me she didn’t care if I slept with every woman in town as long as her friends didn’t find out.”

The bitterness snuck into his voice though he tried to keep it neutral. They’d never had a trouble-free marriage but something about the admittance of that hurt the most. He’d imagined she cared somewhat about what he did. He’d been wrong.

You muttered a quiet breath, not really knowing how you should respond to that. Had he kissed you just to get back at her? No. That kiss had been building for a long time.

But whether true or not…

“You’re right,” he admitted. “Regardless of how Helen and I might fight, we are married in the eyes of the Lord and, perhaps more importantly, the church. If anybody thought I was having an affair, attendance would plummet.”

You winced but though you looked guilty, neither him nor you made any move to separate. He could feel the way your breath tickled his cheeks. If he wanted to, it would take no time to close the distance again. He did so briefly, his lips merely brushing against your own for a second that didn’t feel long enough.

“I don’t understand why I’d have these temptations if they’re supposedly wrong,” you said quietly. “Seems rather unfair.”

“I think most churches agree the devil is behind something like this.”

“I don’t believe that. Some things feel wrong but not this.”

He couldn’t deny your words. You’d been slowly drawing him to you from the day you first arrived, listened when he spoke and genuinely shown interest. If he’d been a younger man, a more unattached man, he’d have fallen for you in a second.

Even now, he worried he might have done just that when all he could think about was how soft your lips were.

You shifted away and he used the small strength it gave him to finally break whatever hold you had on him. His tie fluttered to the ground and you moved to pick it up, folding it around your hand and placing it gently on the desk.

He wanted to reassure you, smooth away the worries that were causing you to frown.

“Sorry,” you said, the word a strange break in the silence.

He was too. “We won’t speak about this again,” he said, forcing his voice to stay monotonous. “You’re welcome in the church but I think I can get along fine without further assistance.”

“Of course.”

You left quickly after that and he slowly sat back in his chair, picked up his tie and ran it through his fingers. He couldn’t go back on anything now. He’d married a woman who gave him no solace and then fallen prey to temptation. Temptation with its sweet taste and gentle words and casual conversation.

Was it lust alone or was it something entirely worse? His emotions were running far deeper than a simple physical appeal.

He put the tie in one of his drawers. He could still feel the taste of your lips against his skin.

You didn’t come back to the church. He hadn’t expected it but something still looked wrong when the back corner sat with spiders alone.

It didn’t matter if you were out of view though, his dreams more than made up for your absence. He prayed every night for forgiveness and yet you waited for him the moment he fell asleep, filled with laughter and flattery that left him yearning.

Was this his punishment? To feel the ghost of your fingers across his chest when he woke up in the middle of the night, his heart pounding in his ears. He couldn’t imagine what else it might be. The Lord certainly wasn’t giving him any help with getting you out of his mind no matter how much he asked.

Helen wanted to know why you’d stopped coming by the church and he gave no reason though even the mention of your name felt nerve-racking.

If anybody noticed something was wrong with him, they didn’t mention it. He kept telling himself to hold out and wait for God to guide him in the right direction but when Flanders invited him to dinner, it felt like the divine was mocking him.

He steered his gaze away from your house when they arrived and almost dragged Helen through the front door to remove the temptation. The discussion was as dry as ever until Ned chuckled nervously.

“Something on your mind? You look very contemplative.”

He cleared his throat and brushed the concern off with a, hopefully convincing, wave. “Nothing too interesting. I’m merely considering how the lord helps us through all life’s troubles.”

Unless it was forgetting about the woman who lived next door. He could see her windows behind Ned if he tried to.

As ridiculous as it was, he wanted to speak to you about this. It felt as though nobody else would be able to offer him the advice or the acceptance he knew he’d get from you. Maybe if he took you out to that dinner you’d joked about a few weeks ago and he could just listen to your stories about work, he’d feel far better about it.

“Maybe if you focused more on him than your trains, he’d give you some better advice,” Helen said and he got dragged back in the conversation.

Did she really want to have this conversation now? In front of people who she knew valued their church sometimes too much.

“I sincerely doubt the Lord has a problem with my trains,” he said. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to buy them in the first place.”

He could think of you in the same way, he imagined. The Lord guided you to Springfield and to the church. Nobody just wandered in to listen to a random sermon without his hand gently nudging them there but then that would mean the Lord allowed him to be tempted.

This was a dangerous line of thought.

Helen rolled her eyes subtly but not enough for anybody to miss it. “Well, at least it’s not as bad as what I hear Homer Simpson has been up to. Am I wrong in thinking he got fired yet again and is starting a new career venture?”

The question was directed at their hosts and Maude nodded her head. “It’s true. The noise from their house has been ridiculous but we always remember to just wait it out and see what happens. Often times, it’s less than a week before he somehow gets his job back.”

“Really, I wonder what kind of role model he’s setting for those children,” Helen said. “It’s just such a shame.”

“We shouldn’t judge,” he reminded her though he knew the words mattered not. He’d tried too often to get through to her with such reasoning. “We have no right to do so.”

“It’s not judgement,” Helen insisted. “I’m just worried about all the young and impressionable children around the neighbourhood. I couldn’t sit by and let them grow up believing that you can get through life being so lazy.”

The children of Springfield had far more issues than role models but he’d rather not fight so he just gave her a small head nod before he went back to his food. He imagined she’d continue speaking to Maude and the living room light behind them had just flicked on meaning you were home.

“Are you ignoring me?”

He turned his head back to the table, realising all eyes were on him. “No,” he said quickly, answering his wife without thought. “I was simply looking for a possible topic for this week’s sermon.”

She crossed her arms, staring at him with a disbelieving glare. “What are your options? The importance of being a good listener?”

“I was thinking more about the dangers of trivial gossip.”

Her eyes narrowed even more. “Knowing what’s going on around town is necessary. It helps us make sure we talk about relevant topics and keep our kids safe.”

“There aren’t any threats to the kids,” he said and Rod and Todd immediately sighed massively. Those two listened a little too seriously to the adults in their lives. It was why they were so panicked about everything.

“There most certainly are. Just look at what happened to Jessica. She’s such a smart girl you know and perfectly lovely but she fell in with the wrong crowd when she was younger and now look. It’s nothing the Lord can’t fix but it’s been so hard.” Helen swiped away non-existent tears from her face as she glanced at the others.

“Oh dear,” Maude said and immediately pulled her into a hug. “Has she been getting into more trouble at school?”

“She always does. It’s so hard on you as a mother to have a daughter who behaves like that. I tried my hardest to raise her right and I still don’t know where I went wrong.”

“It wasn’t anything you did wrong,” Maude said reassuringly. “Nobody has ever said children are easy and I know you’re doing your best. At least you’re not alone in this.”

“Sometimes it really feels like I am.”

She sniffed and dabbed her eyes and, though he knew he ought to feel sympathy for her or at least, irritation at her comment, he felt nothing. Jessica got worse by the day and nothing they did seemed to have an affect on her. The boarding school would undoubtedly throw her out again soon and then they’d need to find another.

They were all watching him, trying to tell if he would comfort his wife like he should or at least defend himself against her comments. He simply turned back to his food and tried to pretend the light wasn’t shining in his eyes.

Helen never cried unless there was somebody to witness it and give her sympathy. She was fine the second she realised he wouldn’t indulge her now.

He could really use a drink.

The Flanders kids didn’t eat dessert and instead begged for a movie which Helen happily agreed to join them for. She continued the front of the neglected wife until she grew bored and then immediately went back to talking about the nearby Simpson house while he slipped out the back door.

He knew he shouldn’t but he found himself walking toward the smaller house with its large maple tree and overgrown flowerbeds. Every step felt heavier than the last as the sounds of the movie gave way to small crickets.

You were lying beneath the tree on a picnic blanket, gaze on the sky and your dog at your side. He nearly left purely so he wouldn’t intrude but then you lowered your attention and met his eyes.

“Hey,” you said, a little confused. “Aren’t you missing your dinner?”

“I was just taking a break from it.”

You laughed. “Right. Ned can be overwhelming at times. I’m just waiting for the coffee machine to finish.”

He hummed and leaned against the fence. A gate led between them, likely how the two boys had continued to make friends with the racoon in your garden. He had no reason to want to open it.

“Would you like a cup?”

He should say no and return to his dinner party. Somebody would notice that he’d disappeared soon and, knowing Ned, might even lead a miniature search party looking for him.

Instead, he opened the gate and stepped through quietly.

Your house looked somewhat different than he imagined with blankets draped over the couch and too many appliances cluttered on the cabinets. The dog followed you in and sprawled itself over the tiled floors, forcing you to step over it to continue with your mission of making coffee.

“I wasn’t meant to sit outside tonight,” you admitted after you’d handed him a mug. “Ned invited me but I thought it’d be better to stay home. Couldn’t help myself, it seems.”

“I can hardly lecture you on self-control when you were in your backyard.”

“Especially not if I pretend that I had no ulterior motive.”

You hopped onto the kitchen counter, sitting with your back against the window as he leaned against the wall. It felt too personal to properly sit down but your choice of seating brought a slight flush to his cheeks.

“The church has been missing you,” he said, hurrying to change the topic and failing.

“I’m taking a small break from religion,” you said with a small laugh. “In case I get hit by lightning or something for only going to see the hot reverend.”

He scoffed but the flattery warmed his chest dangerously. This was precisely why he should have avoided coming over here. You were too good at making him want to start caring about things beyond the church. Too good at making him want to care more about you. He shouldn’t encourage it.

But you wanted his company and that was something he liked. You didn’t want him because he represented your faith or because you thought he provided you with some strange superiority.

You simply wanted to sit with your ankles crossed and a near-constant warmth radiating from your chest as you enjoyed your coffee.

“Was that too much?” you asked and he realised he’d been staring.

He shook his head. “The Lord brings us all to him through different means. If you come because you’re one of the few who enjoy listening to me speak, then that’s as good of a reason as any.”

“You have one of the biggest churches in town,” you pointed out. “I’m sure there are hundreds of people who enjoy listening to you.”

“Many attend church out of obligation and fear rather than desire.”

You pursed your lips as though laughing at a quiet joke. “Some would say that desire isn’t really the right reason to visit church.”

He rolled his eyes and pretended his cheeks hadn’t turned slightly red as he sipped his coffee. Had you ever made coffee for him before? He didn’t think so which meant you either guessed perfectly or you’d noticed when he’d made his own coffee.

“Either way, you’re still welcome to attend,” he reassured. “It forces me to come up with new sermons every week.”

“I won’t tell anybody if you don’t.”

You were right there and nobody else was around. If he wanted to make those damn dreams of his stop, all he needed to do was fulfill them, right?

His name being called stopped him. That was Ned. He regretfully placed his coffee on the table and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Was the man constantly trying to cause him as many issues as possible?

“If you go through the front door, you can tell them you were just returning my dog,” you said as you slipped off the table. “He gets out sometimes to flirt with that strange-looking scrawny one from down the street.”

It would be a good enough excuse. She opened the front door and he stepped through, hesitating for a second as he caught the desire to kiss you goodnight, as though you’d spent the evening together rather than a clandestine coffee after he ran away from a dinner party.

But you simply wished him a goodnight and closed the door, leaving him to deal with a flustered Ned in peace. At least your excuse worked.

He knew what he needed to do and before he prayed that night, he hesitated before he asked for guidance. Something like this would pull his reputation to pieces but it would be the right thing to do.

Helen didn’t look up when he walked into the kitchen the next morning as she paged through a book.

“We need a divorce.”

He said the words before he thought about them but she didn’t cry or get angry. She simply looked up at him and shrugged. “We’ve needed one since the first day you started playing with those ridiculous trains.”

And that was the end of the discussion.

He didn’t know how to feel about her admitting that she didn’t want to be married anymore either. His sermon two days later felt more awkward than ever as he looked at every member of his flock. How would they react if he admitted to getting a divorce? Would they shun him for such a thing?

To make things even worse for his train of thoughts, you slipped in about halfway through and took your seat in the back. He’d have lectured anybody else for being tardy but he just tripped over a word, leaving you to giggle.

He smiled, the smallest quirk of a grin, and this time, Helen noticed.

She’d probably been on high alert since his request but her head snapped back in an instant, her gaze locked on you and her lips pressed into a thin line.

After the sermon, they made it less than a minute into the drive home before she turned to him, far too smug for the situation.

“I knew it was her,” Helen said. “I guessed from the day she first showed up in this town.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’m not stupid, Tim and you’re not subtle. You’re just lucky that everybody else in this town is practically brain damaged and haven’t noticed how you stare at her like some dog with its favourite bone.”

He could argue against it but even if he took offense to her comparison, he knew the right thing to do was come clean.

“I’m sorry.”

She rolled her eyes sharply. “Well, I suppose you did keep it mostly quiet. I haven’t heard any rumours going around town yet. I told you I don’t care if you’re sleeping around as long as that information stays here.”

“I haven’t slept with her.” He didn’t know what else to say. Defend himself or protest what she thought he would do. Though if it hadn’t been for that phone call…

“Why not? I mean, I guess she is very pretty so it makes sense that she might be looking elsewhere or did you start talking about trains in the bedroom again?”

He glanced at her, momentarily confused to find her genuinely making a joke. How many years had it been since she started a rumour just to marry him and move to this town? All the effort she put into crafting her image, thrown away so she could laugh about his possible affair as though it meant nothing.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said. “Really, can you blame me? You’re so miserable all the time and the least you can do is make my life somewhat interesting. Give me more to talk about than how I sit in the house all day while my husband stares at toys.”

“They’re not toys.”

Helen waved a hand. “Whatever they are. I wanted to move away from that stupid house because I was bored and it’s been the same thing for the past, however many years. I’m still bored.”

He couldn’t help but feel bad about that. He’d never promised her a life filled with excitement but he knew she dreamed of it when they’d been younger. Maybe he could have been more interesting but he liked his life as it was: calm and peaceful as he could get it.

“You really haven’t slept with her?”

“No.”

Helen sighed. “That’s far less thrilling. Nobody will think my life is thrilling if my husband’s simply looking at another woman.”

“You’d ruin everything if you started spreading this around town,” he said, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.

She hummed and stared from the window. “I mean, it would be worse for you than for me but true, I don’t want to give the opinion that I’m an unwanted woman. Obviously, I’m not but I can’t allow anybody to try use it against me. Still… I do wish I had something more fun. Everybody else’s lives are filled with controversy.”

Since moving to Springfield, it had felt as though he was surrounded by a constant barrage of interesting characters – people whose lives could fill a thousand episodes of a television show without getting boring.

The most exciting thing he could say that he’d done in the entire week was rebuild part of his model when it got a little faded.

He glanced at Helen and sighed. “I kissed her. Once.”

Helen immediately snapped to him, looking far more interested. “I knew it! Was it on the day you two went to that little fair?”

“No.”

“Was it when you disappeared from dinner the other night?”

“No. I still don’t understand why you want details about this. We swore vows.”

She waved her hand through the air. “Yes, but these things are just so thrilling. You’re not the only one in this marriage who’s… considered other options.”

He stepped on the breaks a little too hard, the betrayal hitting him unexpectedly. This entire time, all the guilt and the concern were for nothing. She didn’t care about their marriage. She didn’t care about them.

“Tim, at least pull over if you’re going to be hypocritical. You’re blocking the traffic.”

He restarted the car, apologised to the drivers behind him, and tried not to think too hard about how long it had been since his marriage started drifting this far apart. It had always been slightly based on pretense but surely it hadn’t been like that from the beginning.

“When?”

“Once or twice over the years. You could hardly expect me to continue along when my husband cares more about trains than me. I’m not going to wait around and be ignored for years when there are others who show interest.” She giggled at the end as though recalling something.

“I don’t ignore you.”

“Don’t lie to yourself. The only time we stop fighting is when we aren’t talking to each other. Do you even remember the last time we slept together?”

He didn’t. Maybe six months ago? More? Helen often initiated those moments more than he did and as time went on, he’d grown less and less interested in her suggestions. Perhaps he should have considered it as a warning.

“What do we do now?”

Helen hummed thoughtfully. “Well, if you want to do me a favour, you can always let me call her out in the church. I’ll make a big scene and everything. People will be coming over for weeks to offer their condolences and I’m sure not too many people will hate her.”

“Absolutely not.”

Helen sighed. “Fine. I guess we’ll just continue pretending nothing happened. What else are we going to do? Get a divorce?”

They arrived at the house but when Helen got out, he didn’t move. His knuckles were turning white around the steering wheel as he considered his options. He could follow her into the house now and accept what she offered – pretend nothing had happened and continue doing things in secret. With Helen on his side, nobody should find out.

But he wouldn’t be happy and really, neither would she. God was far too merciful to force either of them to suffer through a relationship they wanted.

Helen looked over her shoulder at him, her hand on the knob of the front door.

She gave him a small smile and gestured for him to go, walked into the house, and closed the door behind her. He put the car into reverse without a moment’s hesitation.

You were home, he could see your car in the driveway as he parked alongside it. He knocked on the door as firmly as he could manage, constantly glancing over his shoulder as though expecting somebody to pop out. Why did this feel stranger now that he’d solved things? How long would it be until visiting you would be normal?

He really hoped it would be soon.

You opened the door, exasperated initially but expression quickly morphing into a smile when you noticed who it was. Sometimes, you looked at him as though he made your entire day better just by arriving.

“Hey,” you greeted. “Sorry I took so long to get to the door. Some of the kids around here are being incredibly irritating. I think they’re bored but honestly…” You rolled your eyes affectionately. “How can I help?”

“I’m getting a divorce.”

You went through at least ten different expressions before you settled on one, still blinking a little. He should have taken some time before reaching that part of the conversation.

“Oh. Do you want to come in?”

Your dog raised its head briefly at his entrance but promptly went back to snoring. He hovered uncertainly until you took a seat on the couch, following your guidance and then just staring at you and hoping the words came to mind.

“Helen and I got married because she told some of her friends we were sleeping together. We weren’t but I decided to salvage both our reputations and I thought it would be something we both wanted.”

“Was it?”

“Not at all. It would seem both her and I lied in front of the Lord that day when we swore our vows. I’m not the only one with a wandering eye, from what she’s said.”

You winced and he recognised the flash of acknowledgement in your expression. Things clicked together slowly.

“You knew.”

“Not for certain,” you hurried to defend yourself. “But I admit I was curious where I was circulating in the gossip hub. I heard some things about Helen through it and I didn’t want to believe them, really. Of course, I can’t judge given the uh, main reason I asked in first place.”

He groaned and dropped his face into his hands. How had he gone for so long without noticing how truly unhappy everything in his life was? He’d constantly thought it was just something he had to handle; he’d made his choice and now he had to accept whatever came with it.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “For what it’s worth. I was stupidly selfish.”

“You weren’t the only one. It appears I’m quite the fool.”

You smiled and shook your head. “No. I wouldn’t say that at all though I admit, I’m a little biased when it comes to you.”

He chuckled, a small sound without much humour. “At least I’ve realised now. We’ve all made mistakes and the Lord will surely forgive me this one and then… after everything has quietened after the divorce, perhaps we can go somewhere together?”

“If we don’t wait long enough, people might guess there was something between us.”

“They’ll know. Helen isn’t very good at keeping secrets.”

“Right.”

He raised his head to watch you. “Does it bother you? That people might know about what happened?”

You thought about it for less than a minute before you shook your head. “No, not really. I’m just happy that I can be with you in any sense of the word. Even if we’re just friends, I’ll be thrilled.”

There was no way you would be his friend. He reached up to brush your hair away from your face before he finally kissed you once more, sweet and soft. You hummed pleasantly against his lips and he relaxed, sure now that he’d decided correctly even if it wasn’t going to be easy.

When he arrived home and placed the papers in front of Helen, she looked down at them and started laughing. His shoulders tensed but before he could worry, she pulled an identical copy from her own purse.