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F irst rays of a rising sun painted the walls of Peter’s home gold. Joanna was already up and about, preparing for the trip to Jerusalem. Only the men would go this time. She would remain. I would merely be in the way, she thought. Joanna was a quiet woman, meticulous in arranging her affairs, not at all like her mercurial husband. John, her husband’s employer and closest friend, was unmarried. They were inseparable. John was always in their home, even though he had a house much larger and well appointed than theirs. John was a generous man and she and Simon lived well. But Joanna, for all her faithfulness and support of her husband, was little interested in making the trip. She would not enjoy the gossiping, the cliques of talk about the importance of husbands or the intelligence of children. She was a woman of great judgement and clarity of thought. She loved Simon, but she did not think him larger than he was. He smells of fish too often for that! smiling at the recollection. Sometimes she wondered about her husband’s fidelity. He was a man so driven by his passions. That is what she loved about him, yet, it could be his greatest weakness. And this new young man in their home. Simon and John seem so taken with him. Peter! I shall never get used to calling him that! with some annoyance. She felt no animosity toward Jesus. How could she? He was so gentle, so caring — even concerned about her needs, her feelings. It is just that . . . I hope this is not another one of Simon’s business flings, she thought with some desperation. It comforted her that John was also involved. She did not know James. Did not know even what questions to ask of him. Yet, he did not seem to be of guiding influence in the group. “Time to get up lazy one!” she jostled her husband. Peter merely grunted and rolled over pulling the blanket around him. She reached her hand under the covers and ran her fingers up his thigh. Peter awoke with a start!
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