“From HOUR?”
“Yeah, the man from New York?” Faith held her breath as she heard Joshua shuffling through papers.
“Yeah, just a minute.” There was a pause, and Faith didn’t think she could stand the suspense. Even if she was right, if it was Jordan, she had no intention of telling Joshua she knew him. It was all too much of a shock.
“Okay, here we go … just a minute … lets see … its right here.”
No, don’t let it be … it can’t be …
“His name is Jordan Riley.”
10
At five minutes before eleven Jordan tuned his satellite receiver to a channel he’d never watched before his brief visit to Bethany: WKZN out of Philadelphia. Since Philadelphia was a major market, it made sense that Jordan’s satellite service would carry it, but he was surprised all the same.
Since seeing Faith the night before, feeling how she worked magic on his heart and soul, he’d been plagued by more doubts than he cared to admit. He had never experienced a connection that strong to any woman, never had the unexplainable urge to take a woman home right then and marry her …
Of course his feelings didn’t matter. What mattered was that he and Faith had grown into adults who stood on opposite sides of a religious Grand Canyon. As strong as their opposing views were, he knew there would be no bridges to build, no earthly way to span the distance between them. Any chance that may have existed would be demolished after Faith learned the truth.
No, he’d never hold her again, never have the chance to tell her that he would remember last night as long as he lived … but he still had her news show. Once he found the channel, he sat stone still and waited for the broadcast to begin.
The music came first, then a gradual close-in on Faith and her coanchor. The man spoke first. “A second victim in last week’s local gun battle is dead today as police continue looking for the suspect.”
It was Faith’s turn. “And in Bethany, a powerful law firm takes aim at the city’s favorite landmark.”
Jordan searched her beautiful eyes for any sign that the story had hit her personally, but he saw none. He could only imagine what sort of emotional turmoil was going on just beneath her polished veneer. He studied her eyes, her hands. Don’t hate me Faith … this has nothing to do with you.
“Good evening everyone, I’m Ron Leonard … ”
“And I’m Faith Evans, welcome to tonight’s edition of WKZN’s Nightly News.”
Leonard talked a few minutes on the gun battle story; then the camera fixed on Faith.
“An attorney from Humanity Organized and United in Responsibility filed suit yesterday against Bethany claiming that the nearly hundred-year-old Jesus statue violates the Constitution’s call for a separation of church and state.” Faith kept talking but the camera cut away to a shot of the Jesus statue, with young children playing nearby. “For nearly a century the Jesus statue has stood as a landmark in Bethany, Pennsylvania, without a single complaint waged against it.”
Jordan watched, his palms sweaty. Did she know he was the attorney?
“But all that changed yesterday when Jordan Riley, an attorney with the HOUR organization, filed suit asking that the statue be removed.”
Well, that answered that. A strange sadness settled over Jordan. After spending more than a decade wondering about Faith, looking for her, they’d lost each other again in less than twenty-four hours. The camera cut back to her.
“There’ll be a hearing on the matter Wednesday at which point Judge Randall Webster is expected to make a decision. Hundreds of citizens from Bethany and surrounding communities are expected to attend.”
Oh, they are, are they? Jordan raised a single eyebrow. Despite his boss’s warning that this case could gain national attention, Jordan hadn’t really expected a fight. Case precedent on such matters was clear: Whenever a city had chosen to erect a religious display or statue, almost without exception the city had been made to take it down. Jordan wondered if maybe Faith was talking about herself or if she knew for a fact that citizens had already rallied against him.
Faith turned to her partner. “Quite a case, huh?”
Ron shook his head. “Bound to be in the news for a while.”
The camera hadn’t focused back in on her, but still Faith continued the conversation with her coworker. “I’m from Bethany as you know, and all I can say is that this Jordan Riley—whoever he is—doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into.”
Jordan felt as though he’d been stepped on by an elephant. Whoever he is? Faith—his childhood best friend, the woman he’d kissed so gently the other night—had referred to him on East Coast television as whoever he is? She must be furious with him. The knowledge of that truth cast another strange layer of grief over him. What was wrong with him? Was he surprised that she was angry? He should have expected it the moment he realized she still lived in Bethany.
No, there was nothing shocking about Faith’s reaction. After all, Jordan had always known how she loved Jericho Park and the Jesus statue in particular. But somehow he’d hoped she might understand, that she might see how God had let him down, how He’d taken his mother, his sister … even his chance at a relationship with Faith. Jordan wasn’t the bad guy here, couldn’t she see that? Jesus was.
The lawsuit was an act of mercy, really. No city in America should have a statue honoring such a cruel God.
The minute the newscast was over, Dick Baker marched across the soundstage, the capillaries in his temples purplish and threatening to burst through his skin. He pointed his finger at Faith’s partner. “Leonard, out!” Dick’s bellow echoed off the stage’s fiberboard sets.
Faith gulped. If he fires me, Lord, let me get out of here without crying. Ron Leonard, his hair and stage makeup still perfect, scowled at their boss, looking as if he might argue the station manager’s approach. But instead he gathered his things and stormed off the stage. When he was gone, Dick turned to her.
“I warned you, Evans. What you did out there tonight was over the top. I mean completely unprofessional.” He was breathing hard, his face almost as red as the veins in his neck. “The story didn’t call for you to talk about the citizens of Bethany. What … were you out taking a private poll this morning?” He barely paused to grab another mouthful of air before he answered himself. “Of course you weren’t. You said hundreds of citizens from Bethany and other towns were expected to be at the hearing and that is simply a lie. A complete fabrication of the facts.”
There were knots in Faith’s gut but it was too late to back down now. She’d made the decision to express her opinion on the air because it was the least she could do. If people knew that Faith Evans didn’t want the Jesus statue moved, they’d likely side with her. She had that kind of following. The elderly saw her as a pretty daughter they needed to protect. Women related to her freshness and lack of guile, and men, well, it had never been difficult for Faith to gain the support of men. Not since she was ten years old and won a beauty pageant at the county fair.
He was waiting for an answer, and Faith met his gaze head on. Okay, God, give me the strength …
“I live in Bethany, Dick. I know the way people think there. It’ll probably be more like a thousand people. That’s how much they love that statue.”
“No one—” he shouted the words and then gritted his teeth as he struggled to tone his voice down—“no one at this station is free to present his or her own news without some kind of outside research. Otherwise we’re reduced to a group of op-ed mouthpieces spewing our thoughts and our ideas and our take on the news as it relates to us!” He paced two steps out and then back again, his hand raised for emphasis. “And what was that ad-lib thing you did? The camera wasn’t anywhere near you! It was Ron’s turn to speak, and all of a sudden we hear little Miss Opinionated talking about how this attorney from HOUR doesn’t know what he’s gotten himself into?” Dick massaged his temples with his thumb and forefinger, then he peered over the top of his hand and his eyes l
ocked on hers. “Who in the world gave you permission to make such a statement?”
Faith didn’t blink. “Ad-libbing is part of the job. It sounds conversational and approachable and friendly. It makes viewers tune back in tomorrow. Remember, Dick? Those were your words from last month’s editorial meeting.”
Dick glared at her and slammed his raised hand down on the countertop between Faith and him. She started from the ferocity of it. “You know darn well what I meant in that meeting! I was talking about scripted ad-libs. The kind that bridge us from news to weather, and weather to sports. Not a free-for-all, utterly biased conversation where all of Philadelphia gets to hear Faith Evans’s opinion of HOUR.”
Faith sighed. “Listen, Dick, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was out of line.”
The station manager threw his hands in the air. “Sometimes I can’t believe the networks are considering you for a national spot. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Evans. You’re beautiful and bright and you connect with our viewers like no other female anchor in the last decade.” He moved closer and the corners of his eyes narrowed. “But the network has made it clear that I’ll lose my job if I let you or anyone else use airtime for their own agenda. I cannot—will not—tolerate your Christian posturing on my news program.” He was so upset his hand shook and he drew it back. “I could fire you, Evans, you know that?”
She knew he was right. Her contract included a promise of no biased reporting, which meant that even though it might look to the public like religious discrimination if she was let go, the truth was it would be perfectly legal.
Do not be dismayed, daughter, I am with you …
The sudden silent reminder of God’s presence in her heart caused a warm calming feeling to spread out from her gut. Baker was waiting for an answer, and Faith forced herself to reply. “Yes, sir. I know.”
“You will take tomorrow off without pay and you’re to see me before going on the air Thursday.”
Thursday? That meant she wouldn’t be there for the Wednesday’s Child segment. If she didn’t do it, no one would. She had planned on running the segment on Rosa again in hopes that someone, somewhere would fall as quickly in love with the precious child as Faith had. Making her miss Wednesday was the worst punishment her boss could have meted out. Lord see what happens when I try to stand up for my beliefs? What good did it do? There were no words in response, only images. A candle under a bushel, a buried coin, and walls around something Faith couldn’t quite make out. It didn’t matter, the message was the same: God wanted her to be bold, no matter the cost.
Dick’s voice was so loud Faith was sure most everyone at the station could hear him. “Tomorrow I’ll write up a probation form, which we will both sign … and the next time you pull a stunt like this, Evans, you’re fired. It’s that simple. You can forget about any help from the network. The big boys like your talent, but pretty mouthpieces are a dime a dozen. If I don’t keep the executives happy they’ll have both of us gone before the weekend.” He lowered his face so that he could stare straight at her. “Have I made myself clear?”
There was no point arguing. “Yes, sir.”
Dick spun and walked away. Faith watched him go and knew she should have felt discouraged, and she was—about missing Wednesday’s Child the following day. But as she left the station she felt strangely inspired, uplifted—as though she’d taken the first step toward a life that God had been calling her to for years. It was a small step, but it was in the right direction, and though her job hung in the balance, Faith was curiously unconcerned.
By walking the narrow path ahead of her she somehow knew she would be safer and more secure than at any other time in her life. Faith paused as regret hit her over one fact: Jordan had become an enemy overnight, someone attacking her home, and she wondered for the hundredth time since Joshua’s call why her long-ago friend had filed the lawsuit in the first place.
And how he’d had the nerve to hide the fact from her that night at the diner—and later in the parking lot. He had filed suit that very day … he must have known she would be upset by it. Otherwise he wouldn’t have been so evasive when she asked him why he was in town.
The thought of it turned Faith’s stomach.
Had he only wanted to trick her, use her for a night of reminiscing? And what did he have against Jericho Park and the Jesus statue? Faith had no answers, but there was someone who did. As she climbed into her car that night she made a plan to get Jordan’s phone number and call him.
Even if it was the last time the two of them ever talked.
The easiest way to find him, Faith knew, was to call the HOUR organization in New York, so at two o’clock in the afternoon the next day from her mother’s kitchen she did just that. Once Faith had Jordan’s number from the operator, she was connected to his secretary in less than a minute.
“Jordan Riley, please.” Faith put on her professional voice, hoping to ward off any censoring by the woman.
There was silence for a beat. “Who may I say is calling?”
“Faith Evans. It’s about a case we’re working on.”
Again there was a hesitation. “Just a moment, please … ”
Faith sat back in the kitchen chair and forced herself to be calm. I can’t believe it’s true, Jordan … you’ve sold out to the other side, given up the precious faith you and your mother and your—
“Hello?” The voice at the other end lacked any of the warmth it had held the other night, back when he’d wrapped her in his arms and …
“It’s Faith.” She could hear ice in her own voice as well and she felt as though she were lying, as though the role of enemy didn’t quite fit yet.
“Faith, I was going to call you torn—”
“Don’t lie to me, Jordan.” She was maintaining her cool exterior, not showing too much emotion. “You knew you weren’t going to call from the moment you saw me at the station.”
He was silent and Faith took the cue. “Listen, obviously you’re upset and mixed up. You must have personal reasons for wanting our statue down, for suing Bethany over the Jesus statue … but I meant what I said.”
“Which was?” He, too, sounded dry and businesslike. Gone was the man she’d connected with, the one whose voice had been heavy with years of memories and longing.
“The whole town will turn out.” She was careful with her words. “I think you’re making a huge mistake.”
A laugh void of any humor came at her in response. “You really don’t get it, do you, Faith?”
She hated his condescending tone. “No, I really don’t. The Jordan Riley I knew would have loved God too much to attack Him in court.”
“I’ve changed since then. Grown up. I thought you could see it that night … when we were together.”
Faith felt her stomach tighten. “The man I was with was not someone different. He was the same boy I loved as a kid.”
“The same—” Jordan’s voice was sorter this time, but he cut himself short. When he spoke again it was with fire. “I prayed to Jesus, Faith. The same Jesus honored by that stupid statue. And what did it ever get me? My mother died, my sister was sent off to live with strangers, and I never heard from her again. I never heard from you, either. I lost everything that mattered to me that year, Faith. And the reason it hurt so bad was because of the Jesus statue.”
In the silence that followed, a light began to dawn in the shadowy places of Faith’s heart. Jordan blamed God for the losses in his life. And now he was trying to get rid of the Jesus statue as his way of exacting revenge. “Why the statue?”
“Because—” his words were like bullets spewing from a semiautomatic—“because there’s no such thing as a Jesus like the one in the statue. A Jesus with open arms, welcoming those around Him to come, to bring their troubles and lay them at His feet so that He might make things right again. God—if there is a God—is a hands-off, mad scientist. Someone who set the world in motion and then stood back to watch it self-destruct.”
Faith leaned
forward, physically ill at Jordan’s anger toward the God they had once worshiped side by side in church and Sunday school. Lord, how did this happen? How had Jordan missed the point that God didn’t promise a trouble-free life, just peace and joy and friendship through the troubles? “I’m sorry, Jordan. I … I didn’t know you felt that way.”
“Well I do, and you ought to feel the same way.” He huffed. “The Lord took your dad, He took away your relationship with that football player, and because of the accident He took a year of your life. How can you defend a God like that?”
What struck Faith most was that Jordan honestly had no answers for himself. “I can defend Him because He loves me. He loves you too, Jordan.”
“Wake up, Faith. He could care less about either of us.”
She sighed. “I don’t want to get into a theological debate. I just want to warn you. The Jesus statue belongs to the people of Bethany, and any battle you wage there is one you’ll ultimately lose.”
“Then I guess I’ll see you and the rest of the town in court.” His voice was sharp and cool, lacking even the anger it had held earlier. “Good-bye, Faith.”
Jordan hung up before she could say anything else, and her own anger rose in her defense—then an image filled her head. Jordan Riley, thirteen years old, kneeling on damp grass in the freezing still of night a few feet from the Jesus statue, begging God to let his mother live.
Faith closed her eyes and felt tears spill onto her cheeks. She bowed her head and prayed for her father’s old law partner, Joshua, and the people of Bethany, that they might have strength to fight the battle of Jericho Park. Then, with a full and broken heart, she prayed for the boy she had grown up with, the one she had once dreamed of marrying, the one who had lost so much the winter of his thirteenth year.
And for the bitter man he’d become.
A Kingsbury Collection Page 79
