LaDonna said gently, “I know it’s not fair, Francine, but I have to ask. Do you have to stay here? Wouldn’t you be more comfortable somewhere else where people don’t know what happened, where you don’t have to face so many memories?”
Francine didn’t know why the request surprised her, she should have expected it. “This is my home, LaDonna,” she said. “I didn’t have, still don’t have, anywhere else to go. Believe me, I didn’t want to come back here.”
“I have some money saved,” LaDonna offered. “I can help you to get settled somewhere else.”
“But my family—”
“What about Toni’s family?” LaDonna challenged. “Their lives have been ripped apart, Francine. You don’t know the half of it and some of it I can’t even share with you. But I can tell you this: George is almost a walking zombie. He’s been using his work to dull his pain, but that’s not good and it’s not helping. Mrs. Roberts is not much better.” She sighed. “George isn’t a cruel man, Francine, you know that. He’s one of the kindest, sweetest men I know, but this thing is changing him. I don’t think your being around is going to help him or his mother.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Francine told LaDonna.
“Just think about it,” she said. “You’re not a cruel person either, Francine. I know you’ll do the right thing.” LaDonna stood up. “I’d better get out of here. I have to meet a client at one-thirty.”
Before Francine could respond, the door chimed, causing her and LaDonna to look in that direction. Monika rushed through the door, tears streaming down her face, and ran to the back room. Francine called after her, but the girl didn’t answer. When she was about to follow the teen, Stuart rushed in the store after Monika. “Where is she?” he asked.
Francine’s heart began to beat fast. Had he harmed her? She turned to LaDonna. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to see to her.”
“No problem,” LaDonna said. “Anything I can do?”
Francine quickly balanced protecting Monika’s privacy with the possible assistance that LaDonna could offer. “Why don’t you man the counter for me,” she said. “If I need you, I’ll call.” Then she rushed to the back room.
“Leave me alone,” Monika was saying to Stuart, who was trying to pull her into his arms.
“She said to leave her alone,” Francine demanded. “So leave her alone.”
Stuart turned wide eyes to Francine and she wasn’t sure if they were full of guilt or pain. Not having the time to figure it out, she rushed to Monika. “Did he hurt you?” she whispered. “You can tell me if he did.”
The girl kept crying.
“I didn’t hurt her,” Stuart said. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”
She cut him a hard glance. “How do you know what I’m thinking?”
“Stop!” Monika yelled. “Just stop it!”
Stuart pushed past Francine. “Monika, talk to me,” he said. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
The girl turned in his arms. “He doesn’t want to meet me. My father doesn’t want to meet me. He hates me.”
Francine met Stuart’s eyes over Monika’s head as the teen buried her face in his chest and cried. She wanted to cry herself. Instead, she walked over and patted Monika’s back.
“He doesn’t hate you,” Stuart said. “Nobody could hate you.”
Monika pulled back. “Then why won’t Momma let me meet him? Why won’t he talk to me?”
“I don’t know, Monika,” Stuart said. “Have you asked your mother?”
“She won’t tell me the truth. She lies, makes excuses. I don’t believe anything she says. He hates me. I know it. That’s why she won’t let me meet him. He doesn’t want to meet me.”
Francine met Stuart’s eyes and she knew from the look in them that he was as much at a loss as she was. Call Dolores, he mouthed. Francine nodded and went out front to do as he asked. She gave LaDonna a brief overview of what was going on and then called Dolores. When she hung up, she said, “I think Monika’s going to be all right. Thanks for staying. I know you have an appointment.”
LaDonna slid off the stool. “If you’re sure—”
“I’m sure,” she said. “Go on. You need to take care of your business.”
After LaDonna gathered her purse, Francine led her to the door. “You’ll think about my offer, won’t you?” LaDonna asked when they reached the door.
Francine nodded, but her mind was on Monika. After LaDonna left, she flipped over the Away sign on the door, giving herself an hour. When she returned to the back room, Stuart was still holding Monika, but the teen had quieted. “She tired herself out,” he said.
“There’s a cot,” Francine said. “She can rest until her mother gets here.”
With Stuart’s help, Francine opened the cot and then he laid the teen on it. “She’s out, isn’t she?” he asked, looking down at the youngster fondly. “She’s had a rough few weeks.”
“You really do care about her, don’t you?”
Stuart met her eyes. “Yes,” he said simply.
“I was wrong about you. I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. You care about her too, and you were acting out of what you feel for her. Sometimes it’s better to be overly cautious.”
“I’m still sorry that I jumped to the wrong conclusion.” Monika stirred, and they both looked down at her.
“Let’s go out front so she can rest,” Stuart whispered. “We’ll be able to hear her if she needs us.”
Francine nodded, following him out to the front of the store. “You can open up again,” he said. “I’ll stay with you until Dolores arrives.”
Francine glanced at the door. “Let’s wait until Dolores gets here before we do that.”
“Okay,” he said. “Mind if I sit?”
She shook her head. “Not at all.”
“It’s a mess, isn’t it?” he asked.
Francine nodded. “I’m afraid something she heard last night may have triggered it” She told him about George’s visit.
“You can’t blame yourself,” he said. “Besides, I don’t think that was it. This thing has been bothering Monika for a while now. I didn’t realize how much. So many kids are raised in single-parent homes these days that I forget that it’s not easy for all of them.”
“She wants family, more family than she has.”
Stuart squeezed his eyes shut and then quickly opened them. “Her mother is a good woman. This is going to break her heart.”
“I met her last night,” Francine said. “Do you know Moniker’s father?”
Stuart shook his head. “Not a clue.”
“Why wouldn’t he want to know her? I can’t imagine anybody being that selfish, especially when her need is so great.”
“Let’s not jump to conclusions. Monika can be overly dramatic at times, so let’s wait to see what Dolores says.”
“Good idea,” Francine said. “I guess I’ve gotten pretty good at jumping to conclusions.”
“What you’re good at is taking the blame for everything. Why do you do that?”
She was about to give him an answer when he stood. “There’s Dolores,” he said.
Francine rushed to the door to let her in.
“Where is she?” Dolores cried. She had left the spa so quickly that she still wore the white Kings and Queens smock that she usually donned when working. “Where’s my baby?”
“Calm down, Dolores,” Francine said, wrapping her arms around the woman. “She’s fine. She’s resting in the back.”
“What happened?”
“It’s about her father,” Francine said. “She thinks he hates her.”
Dolores moaned. “Where did she get that? I didn’t tell her that. I told her I’d talk to him. I haven’t even talked to him yet.” Francine met Stuart’s eyes again. He’d been right.
“Well,” Dolores said. “Let me go talk to her. Thank you both so much. She thinks a lot of both of you.”
“We love her too,
Dolores.”
Dolores nodded, but her attention was already on her daughter and she moved in that direction.
Stuart looked at Francine. “They’ll be all right.”
“I hope so,” she said.
Without asking, Stuart took her hand in his and began to pray. “Father, show your strength to Dolores and Monika. Build bridges between them so they can hold on to each other during this trying time. Show them the love that is all around them. Show Monika that she has all the family she needs in you and your people. Help us to be that family. In Jesus’s name. Amen.”
When Francine looked up at him, he grinned. “Thanks,” he said. “I needed that prayer right now.”
“I think I did too,” she said, still holding his hand, “though I hadn’t known that I did.” There was something solid, safe in Stuart’s touch. Even more, there was something solid and sincere about the prayer he’d prayed. Just a few simple words but she felt they’d reached the throne of God.
Dolores and Monika came out of the back room, daughter wrapped in mother’s arms. “I know she was supposed to work today,” Dolores said, “but I think I’d better take her home.”
Francine dropped Stuart’s hand, reluctant to sever the three-way connection with God. “Of course you should.” She looked at Monika. “Feeling better?”
The girl burrowed closer to her mother, but she nodded. Dolores glanced from Stuart to Francine. “Thanks again. I appreciate both of you being there for her.”
Francine watched them as they left, still feeling the power of the prayer she’d shared with Stuart. Mother and daughter would be all right. She was sure of it. It might get rough for a while, but they’d be okay.
“Are you going to be all right here by yourself?” Stuart asked her.
Seeing Stuart with new eyes, she nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
“I could stay and help you.”
She lifted a brow.
“Mother Harris has drafted me into service on a couple of occasions, though I think I’d be better with the customers, leaving the cash register to you.”
She shook her head. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll be okay.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m positive.” When he turned to leave, she said, “I’m really sorry, Stuart, for the things I thought. You deserved better.”
His smile told her he didn’t hold it against her. “And I’m sure I’ll get it. Let’s just say you owe me one and leave it at that. Deal?”
She smiled back. “Deal.”
Chapter 12
E. Theodore “Ted” Campbell checked his watch again. His three o’clock appointment with Judge Stuart Rogers was quickly turning into a four o’clock. According to his clerk, Judge Rogers was in a motion hearing that had gone on much longer than expected. Ted knew he could leave and reschedule the meeting, but he wanted to get Faith Central on board with BCN as quickly as possible. One thing he’d learned since he’d undertaken this venture was that reputable churches attracted reputable churches. The first question pastors typically asked was, “Who’s already on board?” Faith Central’s Rev. Thomas had been the exception. Ted hadn’t even expected the question about individual donors. Nobody else had raised it.
Now that he thought about it, Ted realized that he should have been prepared for the unusual with Thomas. The man had a reputation that was second to none. Though his church had only about three thousand members, making it small compared to the mega-churches in the Atlanta area like New Birth with more than twenty thousand members, he wielded a lot of influence with the other pastors in the city as well as with the community in general. It was important to get Thomas on board. The venture needed the credibility and stature he would bring.
Ted sighed, remembering the days when he could have used his own credibility and stature to anchor the deal. But those days were gone. He was no longer the pastor of one of those mega-churches. His reputation, tarnished by what he considered “a powerful man’s weakness for beautiful women,” was not enough. Though he had embarked on a trek to rehabilitate his name, he wasn’t there yet. BCN would put him back there though. If he made a go of the station, he could build his church from the television audience. In five years, his church, The House of Hope—he’d already come up with a name for it—would be bigger than The Potter’s House. Compared to him, T. D. Jakes would be a small-time pastor. Ted could see it now. Like Job, he’d have everything he’d lost and more. In order to have it, he needed BCN to succeed, and for it to succeed, he needed Rev. Thomas and Faith Central on board. That meant he needed Judge Rogers, and so he continued to wait.
He wished Nona had come with him. They would have been more effective as a team. Christian leaders liked to see a husband and wife working side by side, sharing a ministry. Nona knew this, but she refused to cooperate. Ted knew her unwillingness was because she wasn’t yet ready to put her trust in him again. The past still hung between them. Though he understood his weakness and didn’t come down too hard on himself, Nona wasn’t as understanding. Throughout the Bible there was case after case of the man of God being led away by the temptation of a beautiful woman. David, a man after God’s own heart, had suffered from the same failing. At least, Ted thought, he hadn’t tried to kill anyone’s husband. Too bad he couldn’t get Nona to see that.
He knew Nona would get over her sulks though, because she enjoyed being First Lady of a mega-church as much as if not more than he enjoyed being pastor of one. His three sons and his mother were another story. The four of them had led the call for him to step down from his last church and had almost caused Nona to leave him. There wasn’t much he could say about his mother, but those boys had been out of line. What call did they have to judge him when they hadn’t even experienced much of life yet?
“Rev. Campbell.”
Ted looked over at the clerk’s desk.
“Judge Rogers can see you now,” the young man said. “You can go on in.”
Rev. Campbell picked up his portfolio from the seat next to him and headed for the office. Judge Rogers met him at the door with an outstretched hand.
“Sorry I kept you waiting,” the judge said, leading Ted into the office. “My last session went much longer than I had anticipated. Unfortunately, that happens a lot.” After seating Ted at a chair in front of the desk, Stuart moved to his chair behind it. “I’m glad you waited.”
“Not a problem,” Ted said. “I’m a busy man myself, so I know how the days can get away from you.”
“I bet you’re a busy man. Being a pastor is a full-time job, and then you have BCN on top of it. That’s a lot for one man.”
Ted wondered if Stuart was challenging him, but chose to respond as if he weren’t. “My congregation is small,” he explained, “and we have a good support team. I also have an Advisory Board with me on BCN, so I’m not alone. Most importantly, I have a strong First Lady standing with me. None of this would be doable without her.”
Stuart nodded, and Ted felt the mention of Nona had won him a point, just as he’d hoped it would. “So have you thought about Rev. Thomas’s concerns?” Stuart asked.
Ted opened his portfolio and pulled out a sheet with the new numbers. He handed it to Stuart. “I’ve done more than think about them. The Advisory Board reviewed Rev. Thomas’s concerns, found them valid, and made the changes you see there.”
Ted watched as Stuart studied the sheet of paper. Though Ted hadn’t wanted to commit to giving shares of the network to the donors, he hadn’t felt he had much of a choice. Giving up 20 percent of something was better than having 100 percent of nothing. He wasn’t a fool.
“The numbers look pretty generous,” Stuart said. “So twenty percent of the shares of the network would be held in reserve for the individual donors?”
Ted nodded.
Stuart put down the paper. “I worked on a project—Genesis House—you may have heard of it.”
Ted nodded again, wondering where Stuart was going with his line of inquiry. Everybody in the Atlan
ta area had heard of Genesis House, the nonprofit Christian community service organization run by Nate Richardson and his wife, CeCe.
“I worked with them on a similar deal for donors, except in that case we had a couple of additional provisions,” Stuart continued. “First, as long as Genesis House is a nonprofit according to federal regulations, then the donors’ share is nonredeemable, but if it goes public, the donor share is redeemable on demand. Second, instead of giving the donors a flat percentage the way you’ve laid out here, we made their share proportional to their contribution to the operating budget.”
Ted and his group had considered that last option, but quickly discarded it. If things didn’t go exactly as he’d planned, individual donations could easily end up 50 percent or more of the budget. Instead of responding to Stuart’s idea, he decided to wait for the man’s question. It wasn’t long in coming.
“Have you considered such a split for BCN?”
Ted surreptitiously squeezed his upper thigh with his hand to stop the involuntary shaking of his leg that usually occurred when he was annoyed. “No,” Ted said. “That one didn’t come up.”
Stuart handed him back his sheet of numbers. “Maybe you should think about it.”
Ted took the sheet. He should not have met with Rogers in his chambers. The location definitely gave the advantage to the judge. “Are you saying this is a deal breaker?”
Stuart shook his head. “Not at all. What I’m saying is, fair is fair. People should get out based on what they put in. Can you think of anything fairer?”
Ted squeezed his leg tighter, wishing it were Stuart’s neck. “You have a point,” Ted said, trying to come up with a way around the request. “We’ll work on the language.”
Stuart opened his desk drawer and pulled out a sheet of his own. “Here’s the contract clause I drew up for Genesis House, with a few modifications to make it specific to BCN. It spells out the terms pretty clearly and takes care of all the legalese I’m sure your lawyers will want to see. You’re more than welcome to use it. Show it to your lawyers. I’m sure they’ll tell you that everything is in order.”
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