Lavon didn’t miss the quick change in King’s demeanor, or in the subject matter. “We used five there. Here, we’ll use six, an additional hand-held for special shots.” And then, because he couldn’t resist, “I’m not trying to be out of line, Preach, but is she an old flame or something? She was looking all nostalgic when talking about you. I mean, I’m just asking. She said y’all hadn’t seen each other in years.”
She was right. It had been a long time. Every now and then he’d wondered if she still lived overseas and how she was doing. Tootie had been a wildcat back in the day; that “cat” had gotten him in trouble more than once. That girl did everything, was a real daredevil. He and his friends used to compare notes afterward.
Lavon watched King try and remain impassive. But he was convinced some past passion lay just beneath the facade.
King was just about to respond to Von’s question when Joseph stuck his head in the doorway. “Everyone’s gathered in the conference room. Should I tell them we’re ready to begin?”
King was up and out of his seat in a flash, reaching for the suit coat he’d removed earlier. He was glad for the interruption, so the conversation about Tootie could come to an end. Relieved to not have to ponder the feelings that the mention of her name evoked. With determination, he channeled his thoughts to the tasks at hand—running Mount Zion Progressive, a million-dollar corporation, for the Lord.
6
Mercy…Peace…Love…
Millicent stopped working and stretched. She grabbed the arm of her chair with both hands and twisted her back, grabbed the other chair arm and repeated the motion. She still felt tight. Looking at her watch, she understood why. Where had the time gone? It was almost two o’clock in the afternoon and she’d been hard at work, barely moving from her computer, since before eight. It’s time for a break, she thought, saving her work and punching in the code that sent her phone calls to the company’s answering system.
“Back in an hour,” she said cheerfully to the receptionist.
“Oh my goodness, you’re just now getting out for lunch?” the receptionist asked. “And it’s such a beautiful day!”
“I’ve barely looked up from the computer long enough to notice, but you’re right.” Millicent quickly checked her mail slot and added, “I might make it an hour and a half.”
“There you go, you deserve it. You’ve been working nonstop.”
Millicent smiled and headed for the door. Her therapist was right. Getting back to work had been helpful. The workplace had always been an area where she felt in control, and here was no different. The long hours and hard work had been therapeutic, and productive. She’d already made big strides toward Innovative Design’s new marketing direction.
Millicent stepped out into a typically beautiful February afternoon in California. The sky was a brilliant blue and after the rains of earlier in the week, crystal clear. She greeted two of her colleagues as they passed her on their way back into the office, hopped into her Infiniti coupe, and quickly maneuvered out of the parking lot. But instead of taking a left toward her usual lunch locale, a quaint shopping center a few blocks down, she took a right and decided to drive toward the ocean. Maybe she could enjoy a quick stroll and a sandwich. Yes, the beach sounded like a great choice.
San Diego was growing on her, and she’d already fallen in love with her condo in La Jolla. She’d initially balked at the large purchase. The housing market had grown absolutely ridiculous in the five years since she’d purchased her last abode, and she’d felt reluctant to take on such a huge debt. But in the end, she’d figured that not only was the condo a good investment, but it allowed her to live as she desired, in an affluent neighborhood. Her new complex boasted every amenity, including swimming pools, three hot tubs, an exercise room, sauna, doorman, lounge with a pool table and big screen TV, and an exquisitely designed club house for parties and other social functions. Fortunately her good credit, and her ability to place a large down payment with some of the profit from her previous condo sale, allowed her to get a good interest rate, reasonable terms, and a manageable mortgage. She was also glad she’d decided to sell her old furniture and start fresh with her new home’s decor. The only things she’d kept were her personal accessories and artwork, including the prized Henry Tanner original, The Annunciation.
Millicent was still becoming familiar with the streets of San Diego, so it was a half hour before she found what she was looking for, a small strip of shops next to the ocean. She pulled into a parking lot and stopped by the attendant’s booth. Within minutes, she was following the bike path several yards from the water. She’d removed her suit jacket and was sorely tempted to take off her shoes, but refrained. Just seeing and hearing the water was enough. There was something immensely soothing about the waves ebbing and tiding against the shore. She’d walked for less than ten minutes when she could resist no more. She eased out of her two-inch-heeled sandals and cautiously stepped into the sand. The ocean seemed to call her, and she obeyed the urge to move closer, let the water touch her feet. For several moments she stood there, head tilted up slightly, eyes closed, breathing in deep breaths of the moist, sea air. Opening her eyes, she gazed out to the ocean’s edge, a mirage, of course, because the ocean went on forever, past the Hawaiian Islands, past Japan, beyond China, and on until it joined quietly, seamlessly, with the Arabian Sea.
There was such gratitude pouring from her heart in this moment. No one could have convinced her she’d ever live in California again, much less be working and enjoying it. From the beginning, Innovative Designs had made it clear that they wanted her to come on full-time, and now she was actually considering their offer. It was a great group of people—less than twenty made up the whole company—and it had a decidedly family feel. She’d objected adamantly at first but Bob, the brilliantly charming president, was slowly wearing down her resolve. The near six-figure salary he’d waved in front of her was part of the company’s attraction as well.
There was yet another attraction. Working at Innovative Designs kept Millicent’s mind off Cy, at least what had been daily, continuous thoughts of him. Since beginning her work there, she’d actually experienced twenty-four-hour periods when she didn’t think of Cy at all. She still dreamed of him, but not as often. And yes, a part of her heart still ached for him, still loved him. Millicent didn’t know if that would ever go away.
She wondered if he and Hope were married yet. That had been one of her worst days, when Alison had phoned her with the news that Cy was engaged. In a last, desperate act, she’d dialed him as soon as she hung up from Alison. All of his numbers, home, office and cell, had been changed. His engagement told the world what Millicent couldn’t tell herself: she and Cy would not be together. But why couldn’t it have been me, God? Why did another woman’s dreams come true? But they had. Cy had Hope, but ironically, Millicent’s hope of having Cy was gone.
Millicent sighed, breathed deeply, and then turned back toward the bike path and the small outdoor café she’d passed on the way. Once back on the sidewalk, she was reminded why she hadn’t wanted to take her shoes off in the first place. She stopped and tried unsuccessfully to wipe the sand off her feet. She slipped back into her sandals and covered the short distance to the café. Only one of the six or so tables was occupied. She ordered a fish sandwich with fries and an iced tea, chose a table a safe distance from the other lone diner, and took a seat. Trying to recapture her former light mood, she reached for her iPod. She’d just slipped on her headphones and punched in Beethoven’s Sixth Symphony in F Major when a shadow came over the table. She didn’t look up, thought it was the waiter again.
“Good afternoon.” The voice was deep, melodious.
Millicent looked up into blue eyes and a sincere smile. “Good afternoon,” she replied, with no enthusiasm.
“I don’t mean to bother you, but would you mind terribly if I sat with you a few moments?”
Millicent did mind; she was in no mood for company, especially of the male
variety. She looked around pointedly at the other empty tables and noted that the man before her was from the table that had been occupied when she’d arrived. Putting down her earphones and picking up her Blackberry, she said, “I’m a bit busy, on my lunch hour—”
“I promise to not take more than two minutes of your time,” the stranger interrupted, his hand already on the chair opposite her. Still, he waited.
“I guess I can spare two minutes,” Millicent said, reluctantly but not unkind. She looked at her watch to indicate the seriousness of her intent to hold him to the time limit.
The stranger smiled. He had bright, even teeth in a slightly tanned face. His windblown hair was sandy blond streaked with lighter, almost white highlights, making his a distinguished yet playful look. His face looked young, very few lines, but when he smiled, faint crow’s feet appeared at the corners of his eyes. “Jack Kirtz,” he offered, his hand outstretched.
“Millicent Sims,” she responded, shaking his hand lightly.
He pulled out the chair, talking as he did so. “I saw you walking along the beach, enjoying the view.” Jack had enjoyed the view also, only he hadn’t been looking at the ocean. He decided to keep the conversation official, however, and not verbalize his attraction to this tantalizing stranger. “It’s rare I get a chance to do this,” he continued, “take time off in the middle of the day. Good to do though, take a moment and enjoy God’s creation. I’ve been making a point to try and do it more often.”
Millicent nodded, but remained silent. His opening lines had taken up almost thirty seconds.
“Listen, I stopped because I’m a pastor and, believe it or not, this is not something I get to do often, but I’d like to invite you to services this Sunday.” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a business card. “Do you live in the area?”
“La Jolla,” Millicent said, scanning the card.
“Oh, nice, very nice. So you must work around here then?”
Millicent was not up for twenty questions, especially from this ministerial stranger. She’d made it a point to stay busy and focus only on work and keeping spiritually fed through tapes and television. Her dear friend, Alison, sent what she thought were inspirational, uplifting messages regularly, messages she thought Millicent would enjoy. And they talked every week. There were only two topics off-limits: Cy and Kingdom Citizens.
And then there was the fact that this man was a pastor. The thought of going into anyone’s sanctuary elicited an involuntary twitch in her stomach. Her mom’s small Methodist church had been different, perhaps because her mom had been there. The congregation was barely a hundred people, most over sixty years of age. But the thought of seeing someone she knew, especially someone who knew about “the incident,” had been a motivating factor in her relocating almost two hours away from LA. She wondered if even that were far enough away. Sister Vivian had called a few times when Millicent first arrived in Portland, but Millicent had asked her mom to politely refuse the calls. She truly loved her, but First Lady Montgomery was too close to all that she was trying to forget. Millicent had rediscovered herself in Portland, and realized that as busy as she’d been with KCCC, a solitary life was sometimes okay. Now was one of those times.
These thoughts quickly ran through her mind, one right after the other. And then the waiter brought her food, steaming hot and smelling delicious. Perfect timing for the dismissal that was about to take place.
“It was nice to meet you, Mr. Kirtz; thanks for the invitation,” Millicent said, dropping his business card into her purse and picking up a fry. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d rather enjoy my lunch alone.” She smiled briefly to show there were no hard feelings.
Jack got the message and stood up. “Jack, please, call me Jack. Whenever you could come by, we’d love to have you. Ours is a small congregation, but we’re serious about spreading God’s love. Enjoy your meal, and the day.” With that he flashed another smile, turned, and walked toward the bicycle path she’d taken earlier.
After he was well out of sight and she’d eaten half of the sandwich and fries, Millicent reached into her purse and retrieved the business card. “Open Arms Ministries” was centered in bold, with “T. Jackson Kirtz, Pastor,” underneath. The contact information filled the bottom of the card, just above a line of scripture: “Mercy unto you, and peace and love be multiplied. Jude 1:2.”
Millicent stared at the card a moment before dropping it on the table. She shrugged, as if dismissing the entire episode. But the words of the scripture repeated themselves in her head, and were soothing in a distant, mellow sort of way. She finished her sandwich and pushed the rest of the fries aside. Swallowing the last of the tea, she stood, put on her jacket, and grabbed her purse. Another cursory glance at the card and then she turned and walked purposefully up the walk and away from Jack’s outreach efforts. She’d appreciated the scripture though, and thought to write it in her journal when she got home. God knew she could use His mercy and peace, and love, for the time being from Him alone. Or from Cy Taylor. “No, God’s love is enough,” Millicent said aloud. But was it?
7
It’s Still Good
“I just have one question,” King whispered, as he drew lazy circles around Tai’s cinnamon-colored nipple. He bent down and licked it lightly, causing an involuntary shiver down her spine.
“What’s that?” Tai turned her head and looked at King.
“Is it still good to you?”
Tai smiled, and continued the familiar Ashford and Simpson tune. “Yes,” she said, kissing his soft, full lips, and kissing them again. “And it feels more than alright.”
Her body was still vibrating, singing the praises of his lovemaking skills. They were spending a rare Saturday morning alone, and making the most of it.
“I think it gets better with time, baby.”
“I think you’re right.”
Tai ran her hands up and down King’s back, which was still slightly moist from their zealous coupling. She agreed with what he said. Lately, their sex was some of the best they’d ever had. She turned and snuggled her back against King’s body, spoon style. He rocked up against her, brushed his hand over her still throbbing pussy, and pulled her closer. Tai closed her eyes, a smile dancing across her lips. She’d thanked Vivian more than once for calming her down last month, preventing her from blowing Tootie’s return out of proportion. Especially since, when King returned from his meetings at the church that day, he’d asked if Tai knew about Tootie being in town to care for her mother. Tai had watched King’s face as he delivered the news, had looked for signs of she knew not what exactly. But he’d seemed pretty casual about it and she’d responded in kind, even encouraged him to go to the hospital and pray for Miss Smith.
Even with her rush to judgment about Tootie’s return, Tai had matured in both her marriage and her faith in God. Realizing she was only being human, she forgave herself for her initial reaction. The memories of King’s past behavior were fading, but not gone. God was still a miracle worker, because if anyone had told her a few months ago she’d be contently snuggled up in King’s arms, she would have asked what drugs they were using. A few months ago, she’d contemplated divorcing King, leaving the church and the city. A few months ago, she’d felt worlds apart from her husband, unable to reach him. And she had been. A woman named April had been in the way.
Tai read a book once that suggested there was a blessing in everything, that one just had to look for it. Who would have thought that out of an extramarital affair would emerge a union that was closer, stronger, better than it had ever been?
Reconnecting after the last affair hadn’t been easy for either of them. King had to get over his guilt and Tai had to lose her anger. Both had to forgive, each other and themselves. They’d had to learn to love each other all over again, make their relationship fresh and new. They’d implemented “date night,” where once or twice a month they let Mama Max watch the kids while they went out to dinner, the theater, a concert, or a
movie. Sometimes they’d pass a nice hotel and spend the night, adding some scenic variety to their renewed romance. Tai had taken Vivian’s advice on how to spice up the marriage, and one day, when King came home late, it was to a woman in a bustier, garter belt, fishnet hose, high heels, and a waist-length, blond wig. King had been shocked, and delighted. The firecrackers had popped that night!
Tai looked and felt better than ever. Thanks to the Full Workout Fitness Center, she had gotten her “sexy” back. Not only was she thirty pounds lighter, but according to her annual medical checkup, healthier, too. Her blood pressure and cholesterol were low, and her heart beat a steady, healthy rhythm. The cardiovascular routine on the bikes and treadmills had paid off, and the twice-weekly aerobic dance workouts and weight-lifting exercises had toned up her abdomen, buttocks, and thighs.
Now, she was considering a breast augmentation to firm up her four-kids-later set of low riders. Despite all of her efforts, the sag of her breasts continued to plague her. King assured her they were fine with him, but ever since a woman at the gym had proudly showed off her new “birthday tits,” the thought of implants had remained firmly in the front of her mind.
A gentle snore sounded behind her. Tai chuckled softly. Yes, baby needs to rest a little longer after our sexcapades, but a brothah can still “make it do what it do.” Things had gotten even more fun after Tai ordered a Pleasurable Sex DVD she’d seen advertised on late night television. At first, King had balked and said, “I don’t need nobody telling me how to love my woman.” But after she began playing the DVD one night, and the host started suggesting various positions to try, he’d changed his tune. Now, she had to tell him to turn the thing off. He’d counter that he was “just studying.” And indeed they had learned a couple of new positions, laughing heartily as they’d tried to become human pretzels. Tai had finally admitted it was going to take more than aerobics to get her in that upside-down, legs over the head position. Who did those video instructors think she was, Nadia Comaneci?
Love Like Hallelujah Page 4
