The Pastor's Husband
Page 14
“This is the mothers’ row,” she says in a harsh whisper.
I nod and smile. “I know.”
“Are you a mother of this church?” she asks, when it’s clear that I’m not an elderly biddy like she is.
“No, but I wanted to talk to one,” I whisper. “The most important one. You.”
Mother Olivia sits up straight and runs her hand over her silver curls. “I am the most important one. You’re absolutely right about that.”
“I have been attending this church for a few years, and I am a professional grant writer. I heard Pastor Greg talking about needing volunteers to help apply for grants. I’ve done this for many years, and I would love to volunteer my time.”
Mother Olivia pats my hand. “What’s your name, baby?”
“I’m Felicia Caldwell.”
“I will make sure to introduce you after service. You just sit right here.”
I settle in next to Mother Olivia until the end of service. I knew she’d be easy. Like taking peppermints from a grandma.
When the congregation has been dismissed and the majority of them are heading over to the Love First café for the soul-food lunch buffet, I’m with Mother Olivia. We walk straight up to the front of the greeting line, arm in arm. No one tries to stop us—not even the church security. They smile at Mother Olivia and wave her on through.
Greg extends his arms to hug Mother Olivia as she approaches. I wait patiently while they say their hellos.
Then Mother Olivia reaches out to me. “Pastor, I want you to meet this young lady. Her name is Felicia Caldwell and she’s a professional grant writer. She can help you get that money we need for the youth center.”
Pastor Greg shakes my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sister Caldwell. Are you a member?”
“I am. I’ve been here going on four years.”
“Really? Wow. We’ve got all kinds of resources sitting right in the pews.”
I nod. “There are several funding options that I’ve identified for your youth center. If there is after-school tutoring, a literacy initiative, and a gymnasium promoting healthy kids, I can get you close to a million dollars in grant money.”
“Really?” I’ve got Greg’s attention now. “And you’ve done this before?”
“Most recently I worked as a grant coordinator for the Atlanta Crows.”
“The NBA team? We definitely need to sit down and talk then. Do you have a card where I can have my secretary reach out?”
I produce a card from my jacket pocket, and Mother Olivia takes it.
“Honey, if you give Pastor Greg this card it’ll be lost and never found again. I will make sure to get you on his calendar for this week. What is your Wednesday looking like?”
I give Mother Olivia a huge smile. “My Wednesday is wide open.”
“So Wednesday morning at ten a.m. it is,” Mother Olivia says.
Greg smiles too. “Then it’s set. See you then.”
Step one was a breeze. Almost like God has His hand on this plan of mine. He clearly wants Nya humbled as well. I’ve got faith that our meeting will go as well as the introduction. Step two will be to show Greg exactly what he’s missing, and how I’m the answer to his prayers.
CHAPTER 33
NYA
Greg isn’t speaking to me this evening. It’s not my fault that my flight got delayed and I didn’t make it back for Sunday service today. I don’t have any control over the weather. But it seems like lately Greg is blaming me for everything that goes wrong.
“Hey, babe,” I say as I peek my head into his office. “I’m done unpacking. You want to go and get some hibachi or something? I’m starved, and way too tired to cook.”
“No, thanks. I ate at the church café. I’m still full from smothered chicken and rice.”
His dry tone bothers me, but I don’t want to start an argument with him, so I keep my irritation to myself.
“So, I was thinking maybe we should sneak away for a few days. Let’s just leave tomorrow and go to Miami.”
Greg scoffs. “No can do. I’ve got meetings scheduled all week. While you’re off touring all over the country, someone has to keep this ministry running.”
“Can the meetings be rescheduled? I think we need to take some time for us.”
“We’d have plenty of time for us if you weren’t always gone.”
“I don’t want to argue, Greg.”
“Well, then don’t start an argument. I’ll have Lena get me a date on your calendar.”
“You’re going to have your assistant pick dates for our getaway? That’s not church business. That’s something we should be doing together.”
Why did I say this? Greg looks up at me and bursts into his inappropriate laughter again. There’s sarcasm dripping from his tone.
“Together? That word isn’t even in your vocabulary anymore. So let’s not go there.”
“Greg, I’m sorry that I didn’t make it back in time to preach. It was the weather.”
“If this was the first time, or the fifth time, or even the tenth time you did this to me, then maybe I would give you a pass. But this is every time you go to one of your conferences. Your phone magically goes to voice mail whenever I call, your flights end up rescheduled. If I didn’t know you better, I’d think . . .”
“You’d think what, Greg?”
“I’d think you’ve got a lover traveling with you.”
A lover? A lover! Oh no he didn’t. I’m so furious that I can’t even respond to this. How dare he accuse me of adultery when I’m out doing ministry assignments?
“My mother always told me that if a man starts accusing you out of the blue of cheating, he must have a woman on the side.”
“Your mother said it? So that certainly makes it valid.”
I feel my eyes roll before I even try to stop them. He’s cracking on my mom now? This is extremely petty.
“So are we going away together, or what?”
“Nah. You’re not going to sandwich me in between tour dates like I’m an obligation you forgot to keep. I’m good.”
I step out of his office and storm to our bedroom with tears in my eyes. Sometimes I wish I never gave that suddenly blessing prophecy. Ever since, my life has been going full speed ahead. I want to put the brakes on, but now too many people are counting on me.
It’s crazy how one little message could change so many lives. Did God know I would choose the wrong thing to do? Is this Him turning it all around and making it for everyone’s good?
No. It can’t be that, because God’s blessings don’t come with sorrow. And behind all of this, I feel only guilt and shame at the perversion of my gift.
God, I know that you are faithful and just, and forgive our sins when we repent. And I’ve repented for this sin over and over again. But please, Lord, I beg you to remove this shame from me. If you want for us to be blessed, please allow me to walk in victory. If I should walk away from this, Lord, create a path for me.
My silent prayer comes from my heart. I only hope God is listening. I will be looking, in faith, for the open door. And I pray, when it presents itself, that I have enough courage to walk through.
CHAPTER 34
FELICIA
This morning, for the first time since my baby was murdered, I woke up feeling well rested and refreshed. Maybe it’s because today is my meeting with Pastor Greg. He has some of the kindest eyes I’ve ever seen. Those long eyelashes make him look almost angelic. I’m sure he has to fight off the women to maintain his marital vows.
That’s why I have to take a different approach than I usually would. Pastor Greg is an extraordinary man, so the ordinary path to his heart won’t work. Most men, you’d go straight to that little head that makes more decisions than the logical head.
Pastor Greg will be ready for that. And so will the staff that he has surrounding him—especially Mother Olivia.
I choose my outfit carefully. A simple green wrap dress. It is modestly sexy, but only because aft
er five years of working out (and a few enhancements) my body looks sexy in just about anything I put on.
I’ve put together a portfolio of my previous grant work, and recommendation letters from some people that I’ve worked with in the past. Unfortunately, I don’t have anything to show from my time with the Atlanta Crows, but I know that if Greg does his research, they wouldn’t dare say anything negative about me. I think Mr. Bailey probably knows I had something to do with the fire at Lance’s house. But who wants one of their star players to be charged with murdering my baby? They should be glad I didn’t do more.
I drive over to the church in my white Range Rover. I have found that with black folk, it is always important to look like money. Because a woman with money can’t be desperate for anything, especially not a man. A woman with money is viewed with awe and reverence, and church folk who always are looking for that financial blessing give more credibility to someone who has made it.
Coincidentally, I pull up to the church at the same time as Lena, Pastor Greg’s assistant. We’ve not met, but I know exactly who she is. She’s driving a little silver Hyundai, and her outfit, while cute, is clearly the inexpensive knockoff version of the designer original.
She waves as she gets out of her car. “Are you Pastor Greg’s ten o’clock?” she asks.
“I am. You’re his assistant, right?”
She walks over with a sunny smile on her face. I like her already, even though she could use a diet and a treadmill in her life.
“Yes. I’m Lena.”
“I’m Felicia Caldwell. Girl, I gotta tell you, you are wearing that dress. Hot pink is your color.”
Now she practically beams at me. “Thank you! People tell me I look good in cool colors. Truthfully, I wish I had your body. I’d wear bright colors every day.”
“You can have it! All it takes is a little hard work and determination.”
She shakes her head. “Uh-uh. God knew exactly what he was doing giving me these rolls. If I looked like you, I’d have a hard time staying celibate. I might just end up being a church hoe.”
We both crack up laughing. Lena at her joke, and me at her saying God gave her those rolls. No, ma’am. Krispy Kreme, fried chicken, and biscuits gave her those rolls.
“Well, come on inside,” Lena says. “Pastor Greg is already here. I usually beat him, but I was running late this morning. My little girl had a program at school.”
“You have a daughter? How old is she?”
“She’s five. She’s in kindergarten.”
“That’s so precious.”
“Do you have any children?” Lena asks.
“I did have a son once, and he died.”
Lena immediately reaches out and touches my hand. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. He didn’t live very long.”
“Maybe God will bless you with another.”
I shake my head. “Unfortunately, I can’t have any children.”
“Oh, Lord Jesus. Let me stop putting my foot in my mouth and get you inside the office for this meeting. I am so sorry.”
“No worries, hun. You didn’t know!”
“That doesn’t stop me from feeling stupid.”
“Now it’s my turn to ask what might be a silly question. Are you married? I don’t see a ring on your finger and I was wondering about the singles ministry.”
“No, I am not married, but I do not participate in the singles ministry.”
My mouth forms a little circle. “Why not?”
“Don’t tell anybody I told you this, but it’s a hot mess. All they do is sit around scheming on how to get married. I’m happily single. Right now, I’m raising my daughter, and I don’t really want to bring a man into the mix. Her father is active, and pays child support on time. That’s all I can hope for. I get tired of all the tips on how to get a husband, you know?”
“I do know! Honestly, Lena, I’m with you. I’m single, I am doing well financially, and I’m not out here dying to have a man. Maybe we can have our own little ministry.”
“I would like that.”
Lena shows me into the building that houses all of the church’s administrative offices. It’s not connected to the main sanctuary, like I’ve seen in many other churches.
“Let me see if Pastor Greg is ready to see you,” Lena says. “You can have a seat on the couch for a few minutes. Would you like coffee?”
“Do you have chai?”
“We do. Let me get you settled with Pastor Greg and I’ll get you some.”
Lena is definitely in the bag. Five minutes at the church and I’m already on my way to being besties with Pastor Greg’s assistant. It’s almost as if God is opening these doors for me. I wouldn’t be surprised. He wants false prophets exposed too. And if He’s showing me favor, maybe that means my time of reaping consequences is over. I am redeemed.
Lena appears again. “Pastor Greg is ready for you. Right this way.”
Pastor Greg’s office is nice, not too flashy like a lot of pastors’ offices. It’s professional. Nice and clean with tasteful decorations. I wonder if the false prophetess decorated it for him.
Pastor Greg stands to his feet and motions for me to sit. “Please come in, Sister Felicia. I’m excited to get started on this.”
“Me too!”
“I really thought about what you said last night when I got home. There is so much grant money out there that we really haven’t tapped into. We actually had a grants professional before, and she left to go work for a corporation. We’ve been using the money we collect at church to fund all of our programs, but if there’s money out there that we can use to expand, I definitely want to know about it.”
“Of course you do. It takes a lot of money to run a ministry this size.”
“It does. I can’t tell you how many times my wife and I have had to go into our own pockets to make up the difference on an initiative or project.”
I frown. “Oh no. You should never have to do that.”
Lena walks in with a warm, steaming mug. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I’ve been telling him the same thing,” she says. “He and Pastor Nya do not have to always chip in. Some stuff can just be cancelled.”
Pastor Greg lets out a deep laugh. The sound is so rich and full that it makes me shiver a little. I hope that neither one of them notices. I just can’t resist a chocolate brother with a goatee and good humor. They are God’s most perfect creations.
“We’re not going to ever cancel anything we’ve promised our community, not if I can help it.”
“You are a pastor for the people,” I say. “That is what drew me to this ministry. You don’t preach about seed offerings and the like. Well, your wife sometimes talks about blessings, but it’s not always about money.”
Greg’s laugh fades and his lips form a straight line. I may have gone too far with that one. He doesn’t look happy at all.
“Well, this ministry is founded on—”
“Repentance, reconciliation, and relationship,” I say. “I know. I love that.”
Greg’s smile has returned. “Okay, good! The Suddenly Blessed movement can sometimes take the spotlight away from what we’re really trying to accomplish here.”
“It doesn’t. I just look at it as Pastor Nya’s personal crusade. What she’s doing with these conference dates is amazing for the kingdom.”
“That is a wonderful way to put it. Now tell me about this grant funding and how we can get some of it.”
I show Pastor Greg my portfolio, and tell him about the grants that I would like to pursue. I tell him about the deadlines and time constraints and how we can aggressively go after funding even for programs that haven’t been launched yet, based on the strength of the things the church has already accomplished in the community.
“Wow,” Greg says when I’m done with my introduction. “I didn’t expect you to be this prepared. Your level of detail and planning is refreshing. I hate to say it, but typically when I’m dealing with church member
s, I don’t get this level of quality.”
“Thank you, Pastor Greg. I went to graduate school for a degree in fundraising for nonprofit organizations. I didn’t get this skill set sitting in the pews.”
“Well, we’re definitely glad to have you on board. Lena will be able to bring you up to speed on everything we’ve done so far. What kind of availability do you have?”
“I’m not working right now, so I have lots of availability. My last freelance assignment left me . . . well taken care of.”
Greg claps his hands and blows a kiss toward heaven. “Look at God!”
“I can get to work immediately.”
“As in today?”
“Yes. One of the grants I want to pursue has a deadline that is only a few weeks away. The sooner the better.”
“Lena!” Greg calls, and she comes running, almost as if she was waiting on him to summon her.
“Yes, Pastor?”
“Please take Ms. Caldwell and have her fill out all of the paperwork needed for the volunteers. The code of conduct, background screening, and all that.”
“Code of conduct? That’s interesting,” I say. Actually, it’s more than interesting. It’s strange. What kind of members do they have at this church if you have to sign a code of conduct? I wonder if it says anything about lying for personal gain, and I wonder if his crooked wife signed it.
“It’s pretty standard. As long as you’re living right, it shouldn’t be a big deal, right?”
I chuckle softly. “It’s not a big deal at all. I’m glad about your commitment to excellence.”
“That’s exactly what it’s about.”
“Lena, can you take a picture of me and Pastor Greg? My mom is worried silly that I haven’t joined a church yet. I told her that I’ve been a member here for a few years and she doesn’t believe me. She follows Pastor Nya online.”
Greg stands next to me and smiles. I don’t really care about having a picture taken with him. I just want to have an excuse to stand close enough to him for him to inhale my perfume. I notice he doesn’t put his arm around me, not even in a friendly way. I know that we just met, really, but I did expect for him to put his arm around me at the very least.