by David Harder
“How dare you, Nate. This man worked for you for what? Almost forty years? And you cannot even give James a few hours of your precious time? Are you so utterly void and soulless that you cannot honor a man dedicated enough to work that long for you? Good grief, Nate, we’re talking about a man’s life, not some baseball score!”
Nathanial Martin was inflamed. As a retired United States Air Force colonel with combat experience, Nate had never experienced such insubordination before. He was the one who gave orders. Men jumped when he said jump.
Nate glared at the doctor, thinking how he could crush him with one hand.
But the doctor never backed down and stood there with his finger shaking slightly and pointing in Nate’s face. Nate then realized he was acting like a jerk.
“You know, Dr. Nolan, I’m way out of line. Please accept my sincere apology. You’re absolutely correct.”
“Apology accepted.” Dr. Nolan was shaken from the conflict but stuck out his hand.
Embarrassed and humiliated, Nate spun on his heels and dashed from the room.
“Tony, I’m afraid I have patients until eleven tomorrow. Can we adjust the time of our meeting until around noon?”
“No problem, Doctor. I’ll have my secretary contact everyone. We’ll meet here tomorrow afternoon. Thank you.”
Tony, Pastor Mike, and Dr. Nolan left the room, leaving Joe to linger, still examining the buffet of food sitting on the credenza.
Thinking that the food would spoil just sitting there, Joe made himself a snack to go.
After looking around, Joe grabbed a fresh plate and loaded it up. It was bursting with food, so Joe grabbed another piece of china and set it on top of the pile. Holding up his treasure trove, Joe beamed with pleasure as he proudly held his “sandwich plate.”
Holding the plates between his hands, Joe started for the door, but then glanced down at the stack of envelopes on the end of the conference table. Curiosity got the best of him, so he sought to investigate this mystery stack. Manipulating his trophy and balancing it with one hand and his chin, Joe attempted to reach down and move the top sheet of paper hiding the pile of envelopes. It took several attempts because he almost dropped the plate of food. On the third attempt, he was able to get his finger close enough to peek under the sheet. He saw some writing and started to lift the paper off.
“Mr. Langley!”
Joe spasmodically jumped from the intrusion and almost dumped the entire contents of his two plates. A flash-move in the last second, he managed to get a hand over the top plate, while supporting the bottom with his other.
“Whew, that was close.”
Betty scooped the pile of envelopes off the conference table and, with both arms, pulled them to her bosom. Her eyes narrowed once more as she observed Joe’s cache of food. Clearing her throat, Betty could not believe this brazen act, not to mention stealing two perfectly fine china plates.
“Mr. Langley, I suppose you’ll require a doggy bag for your ‘collection’?”
Joe looked down at the massive mound between the two plates.
“Oh, hey, that would be great.” Joe flashed his best smile. “Would you mind, darlin’?”
Betty turned and stormed out of the conference room, but not before rolling her beautiful green eyes.
CHAPTER SIX
“MR. LANGLEY? PLEASE WAIT!” CRIED out Betty Thurgood, but it was too late.
Joe was on a mission and already several minutes late when he exited the elevator and blew past the receptionist’s desk. Unexpectedly, the frosted glass door almost hit Betty in the face as she jumped up from her chair to stop Joe. Flustered, she turned to the folks she was helping before Joe’s grand entrance and apologized.
“I am terribly sorry. Please, wait here. I’ll be right back.”
Betty dashed through the door and quickly ran after Joe, but her skirt prevented any fast movements. She arrived at the conference room just as Joe opened the door.
“Ah, Joe, you’re here. Please come in. We’ve been expecting you.” Tony stood to greet Joe.
Joe was dumbfounded and scanned the room, seeing that people were already seated. He was not only the last person to show up, but also the credenza was devoid of any of the previous day’s goodies. A few of the men were drinking coffee, and Arleen was plucking pieces off a fresh croissant from the plate in front of her.
Joe was embarrassed. He looked at his watch.
It was only 12:17. He was just a few minutes late, so how did everyone else get there so fast?
Without Joe’s knowledge, Tony had had his secretary notify everyone that the meeting was to start at twelve, but he had specifically told her to indicate to Joe a 12:15 start time.
“I’m sorry you missed the coffee service, Joe; they just took it away. Please have a seat.”
Tony extended his arm toward the other end of the conference table.
Betty saw the two empty china plates under Joe’s arm, and she tried to wrestle them away. Struggling with Betty, Joe quickly grasped them and shoved them forward at Tony.
“Well, here are your plates. I even washed them.”
Tony received Joe’s offering.
“Why, thank you, Joe.” Tony then reached around the large man and handed the plates to Betty. “I’m afraid poor Betty was certain you absconded with our china, but I assured her you were just borrowing them instead.”
Joe stuttered. “Ah . . . right. Sure. Just borrowing them.”
Joe looked at Betty and produced his infamous smile, but Betty scowled and left immediately with the two porcelain plates treasured in her arms. Joe tried to act pleasant by greeting the other attendees.
“Afternoon, Mike. Doc. Nate.”
Joe smiled again and faced Arleen as he squeezed by to reach his chair. “Miss Arleen, you look beautiful.” But Joe’s eyes were fixed on her unfinished croissant. He almost asked her if she was done eating the French pastry but thought better of the idea when he noticed the others watching his every move. Joe attempted to sit in his chair quietly, but the leather squeaked in protest again.
“Hey, Tony, I didn’t mean to be late. Sorry.”
Tony lied but was all smiles.
“No problem, Joe. We just sat down.”
Looking around the table, Tony surveyed his guests. Pastor Mike was in a different suit and crisp white shirt but had forgone the tie today. Dr. Nolan was dressed as before but was wearing a white smock over his shirt and tie. A stethoscope was jammed into the pocket, and his name was embroidered above the left breast pocket.
Joe was wearing the same outfit from the previous day, and Nate was in an expensive, tailored, charcoal suit with faint pinstripes. His signature French cuffs, silk shirt, and tie were also present. The blue tie almost hurt the eyes; it was so bright. In a weak attempt to look casual, Nate had loosened the tie and unbuttoned the collar. It was uncharacteristic and a hideous aim on Nate’s part to appear relaxed. Plus, everyone could tell the man looked uncomfortable in his semi-casual pose.
Arleen, radiant as ever, again looked as if she had stepped off the page of a fashion magazine. Tony was so convinced of the woman’s unfaltering beauty that he suspected she could wear worn-out rags and look stunning.
“Thank you, everyone, for coming to this meeting. As we discussed yesterday, you were selected to represent Jim Kreider for his funeral services. We are expecting over a thousand attendees—”
“Which brings up something important that I need to discuss at this time,” interrupted Pastor Mike.
“What is it, Mike?” Tony asked.
Pastor Mike looked at Arleen and bored holes in her head with his eyes. He was searching for the right words.
“In lieu of yesterday’s disclosures concerning, well, you all know—perhaps not. I don’t know how to say this without being indelicate.”
“Reverend, enough with your double-speak. Come out with it.” Nate was getting agitated.
“Mr. Kreider’s service cannot happen in our church.”
&nbs
p; Everyone was speechless.
Finally, Dr. Nolan broke the silence. “Are you telling me that a long-time member of your church cannot have his funeral service there because of what was written in James’ letter?”
“That is exactly what I’m saying. Especially, because of this . . . this woman,” Mike was pointing at Arleen. “We cannot have a Jezebel participating. It would be a mockery of everything my church stands for.”
“Fine pastor!” Tom looked at Tony. “James may have his memorial service in our church.”
“Oh, and you’ve discussed this with your pastor already and received his approval, have you?” Mike interjected.
“I can assure you, Mike, and everyone else in this room that our church will welcome this opportunity. It’s a simple telephone call, and the matter is settled.”
“And, pray tell, what is the name of this magnanimous church you offer without approvals?”
Tom steadied himself. “Bread of Life Church.”
Mike scoffed with a wordless sound. “Just brilliant. Another one of those crazy, fanatical, splinter groups. I suppose you have rock music and dancing as well?”
Tom smiled. “As a matter of fact, we do.”
“Well, isn’t this just fantastic? Then I’m not sure I can attend now.”
Tony’s expression became serious. “Mr. Richards, you have been selected, and you would deny Jim this one honor after attending your church for—if I remember correctly—thirty-nine years?”
“Reverend, I mean no disrespect, but it’s no wonder Jim felt lost in your church. I’d feel lost, too, with your narrow-minded attitude,” interjected Nate.
“None of you are members of my church, so there is no way you’ll understand how I feel.”
Dr. Nolan stood up, looking down at Pastor Mike. “Understand what, Pastor? That James made mistakes, and now you’re passing judgment over him for what? Because he loved this beautiful woman? Evidently, King David would be excluded from your private church club, as well. I, for one, am glad that God’s Son died to save us all. I’m even happier that He is the ultimate Judge in heaven, and not you.”
“God has a Son?” Joe asked. “Who was His wife?”
Tony stood up. “Gentlemen, please. Doctor, please be kind enough to sit down. We’ll change the venue to your church once we have your approval.”
“It’s done, Tony. The service will be held in our new sanctuary.” Tom slowly sat down.
“I don’t get it. How can God have a Son without a wife?” asked Joe.
Everyone in the room faced Joe and spoke simultaneously, “Joe!”
“Hey, I’m just asking. Wow!” Joe shrugged.
“Doctor, I have to hand it to you—you’re gutsy.”
“Thank you, Nate.”
Mike jumped to his feet. “What do you know, Nate, anyway? Have you even set foot inside a church before?”
This was the second challenge to Nate’s character in two days, so he stood up and seemed to tower over the room. He was angry now. “I’m sick to death of you two bickering about the church and whatever else you think is pertinent. I’ve better things to do with my time than sitting around listening to you two talk about religion. Oh, and by the way, Reverend, I’d never set foot inside your church—ever—even if you paid me!”
“Gentlemen, gentlemen.” Tony held out his arms to intercede. “Perhaps we can take a small break and then regroup?”
Nate slammed his fist onto the table. “Fine with me. I need a drink.” He turned to leave.
Tom stood to his feet. “I would enjoy a glass of wine as well, Nate. Mind if I join you?”
Nate stared at the doctor, but his response was monotone. “Sure.”
Mike was aghast. “And you also drink, Doctor? What kind of church is yours?”
“Pastor, you need to read your Bible more and spend less time talking about it. Do you not remember that Jesus drank wine?”
Mike jumped to his feet and placed his hands on his hips. “He did not. Impossible!”
“I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Pastor.”
Nate interrupted. “Your church allows you to drink wine?”
Tom smiled. “Yes, Nate, and guess what? You and your family,” Tom swept the room with his hand, “in fact, all of you, are welcome in our church.” Tom took Arleen’s hand. “This invitation is especially extended to you as well, Arleen. Anytime.”
Arleen stood. “May I join you for that drink?”
Tom held out his arm. Arleen hooked hers into Tom’s arm, and they walked out with Nate.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, this is the most insane thing I’ve ever heard of,” Mike bellowed.
Tony was frustrated. The meeting had just started.
Joe stood and smiled. “So, what’s for lunch?”
Tony threw his hands in the air and stormed out, heading back to his office. Joe followed the man out like a puppy dog.
Mike looked around the room in disgust. He slowly gathered his things and walked out, alone.
* * *
An hour later, Tony’s phone rang.
“Hello?
“Yes, Betty, thank you. Are they situated in the conference room?
“Yes, sir,” was her clipped reply.
“Excellent. Please have the stenographer join us in thirty minutes.
“Shall I postpone your other meeting?” Betty asked.
“Yes, that would be fantastic.
“Thank you again. Bye.” Tony’s voice was controlled frustration.
The conference room was in a pleasant mood, with the sole exception of Pastor Mike. He looked as if he had eaten sour grapes. Arleen was interacting with Nate, who appeared to have had more than one drink, as his demeanor was perfectly relaxed. Tony hoped that he was a happy drunk.
Joe still had mustard on his cheek from the four Polish dogs he had consumed from the street vendor downstairs. Dr. Nolan was now sitting with an empty chair between him and Mike.
Tony swore to himself that he would kill Jim Kreider if he weren’t dead already.
He smiled. “Is everyone ready?”
Everyone at the table acknowledged him, except Mike.
“Minister, are you still on board with this group?”
After hesitating, Mike cleared his throat. “Call me insane, but, yes, I guess I am. I need to say, though, that the doctor was mildly correct. I completed my research during the break, and I believe Jesus drank grape juice, and I can see where it could be misunderstood by some to be wine.”
“Hey, was Welsh’s making grape juice way back then?” asked Joe.
He was ignored. Dr. Nolan faced Arleen. He then looked at Nate, and then Joe. “This will be my last statement on the subject of Jesus in this meeting, but the man handpicked fishermen who swore like sailors, a tax collector who was despised, and former prostitutes who became some of his closest followers. If Jesus loved these folks, I’m entirely sure He’ll like this bunch sitting in this room. Our church welcomes all of you, and you have our approval for Jim’s service, Tony.”
“That’s fabulous, Doctor, but can we get on with the agenda? If it makes you feel any better, in the future I’d actually like to visit your church,” said Nate.
Tom smiled and nodded.
“This is wonderful, folks. Now that everyone is ready, let’s get back to the meeting. Shall we?”
Mike scoffed with another wordless sound, and Tony deliberately ignored the attempt to pursue the argument further. Then the door opened, and Betty held it open for the stenographer.
“Excellent timing, Betty. Thank you.”
Tony created some space, so the middle-aged woman could get situated. She looked businesslike and proceeded with purpose. As she set up her small equipment, everyone watched with intent.
Nate joked, “We’ll behave from now on, Counselor. Are you taking our depositions?”
“Folks, I’ve invited Mary Smith to our meeting, and she will record our conversations. Rather than making copious notes or trying to remember the details o
f our stories, Mary will maintain a record of our discussions about Jim Kreider. I will, in turn, produce a written transcript for each of you. From the transcript, you will be able to create your speaking points for Jim’s service.”
Tony waited for folks to digest this information.
“Instead of the misdirected conversations of these past two days, I think this will help us stay on track. Are there any questions?” After scanning the room, he proceeded. “Jim selected each of you and the order for the speakers at the service. First will be Nate, followed by Joe, then Mike, and after him, Tom. Arleen, you will have the privilege of speaking last. I will introduce all of you at the beginning of the memorial service. Tom, perhaps your pastor will want to say something?”
“I don’t think so, but I’ll inquire concerning your question and get a reply back.”
“Excellent. Mary, if you’re ready, then we’ll begin. Nate, since you’re the first speaker, why don’t you tell us what you know about Jim, his life, and his work. Please cover any details because we want to present a complete picture of this man’s life.”
“Thank you, Tony. I will have to say that Jim was an excellent employee, but I also considered Jim a friend. I remember one week before he tried to resign. He had an incident in his office. His secretary came bursting into my office, white as a ghost, and she thought Jim was dead. When I arrived, all the employees were packed into Jim’s office. When I saw him with his head on the table and his arms hanging down at his sides, I’ll admit I was also frightened that the man had had a fatal incident. Unfortunately, the first thought that passed through my mind was, There goes the sales figures for this quarter.”
“Really? You were concerned about business profits at a time like that?” Tom glared at him incredulously.
“Look, Doctor, I’m not proud of my comment. But you need to understand that Jim was our top producer and represented over one-quarter of our annual sales volume. This would be a monumental loss. I’m a retired U.S. Air Force colonel and accustomed to being detached from the people who work for me. As a physician, you of all people should appreciate this aspect. For the bulk of my life, this demeanor has served me well, but I was unprepared the day I saw Jim lying face down on his desk.
