Mercy, Mercy Me

by Ronn Elmore

  Dwayne exhaled, but his relief was short-lived when Lafayette stood and stepped to the other side of the table, staring directly at his brother. “You’re moving awfully fast on this. We don’t know anything about the program, who will be on it—”

  “He said they haven’t worked out the logistics,” Bernice broke in. “I think he brought this to us so that we would know what he was doing and he wanted us to know first.”

  “But what he does will affect us… as a family.”

  “I know that,” Dwayne said. “What’s really bothering you?”

  Lafayette shook his head. “I don’t know.” He paused and leaned over the back of the chair. “I’m not so sure about Beverlyn Boudreaux.”

  “Now, Lafayette,” Bernice said, looking up, “I may not know Beverlyn personally, but everything she’s done seems to be top-notch. I’m sure she hasn’t gotten this far without having people around her who know what they’re doing.”

  Bernice turned to Dwayne to get his agreement, not quite sure herself.

  “I don’t know her either,” Dwayne said, looking at Lafayette, “but she’s hardly walking into this blind. It’s an opportunity for me to make a difference. At least, that’s how I’m looking at it. If you’ve heard something about Beverlyn Boudreaux or the Jubilee Network, let’s hear it. Otherwise, I don’t understand where this is coming from.”

  Bernice turned to Lafayette, her eyes piercing her elder child’s. “Son, why don’t you tell us what’s bothering you?”

  Lafayette walked around the table and took the seat next to Dwayne, thinking that this probably wasn’t the best forum to discuss what he’d heard and known of Beverlyn Boudreaux Ministries, especially since he had not cared enough when he heard it to check it out. “It’s nothing I can put my hands on. Something about this just doesn’t sit well with me.”

  Robbie reached across the table and covered her husband’s hands. “I think you’re concerned because of all Dwayne’s been through,” Robbie said softly.

  Lafayette looked at his wife and smiled. Then he turned to Dwayne and shook his brother’s hand. “Maybe that’s it. That whole world seems so different and I don’t want to see you get caught up.”

  “Appreciate it, man. But I don’t think you have that much to worry about. This feels good to me.”

  “Be careful of what feels good. Just do what Mom said. Pray and we’ll be in agreement with you, not for what you want, but what the Lord wants.”

  As Lafayette spoke, Dwayne felt a chill run through his body, and he shifted in his chair, trying to shake the feeling. He leaned over and hugged his brother. Lafayette sighed, but was disturbed by his brother’s attraction to women like Yvette and now Beverlyn.

  “Well, if this family council is about to come to a close, I have something for everyone,” Bernice announced. She disappeared into the kitchen, returning a minute later with a pan of peach cobbler.

  Robbie laughed. “This is the way I like to celebrate.”

  “But before we dig in …” Bernice stretched her hands forward, taking Lafayette’s and Robbie’s hands into hers. Lafayette took Dwayne’s hand. “Let us pray.”

  As they bowed their heads, Dwayne was thankful to be part of a family who cared about every facet of his life and who knew how to take everything to God in prayer. That’s what he would do. He would pray as soon as he got home. And he would continue until God directed his steps and he got a definite answer.

  Chapter Nine

  Beverlyn inspected once again the boxes that cluttered her office. This time she carefully checked the labeling against her own list to see that nothing had been overlooked. More than twenty brown corrugated containers, filled with personal papers, private trinkets, and other memorabilia representing her life in New Orleans, surrounded her.

  She let her eyes roam the room, determined to hold back her emotions, having gone through the same process at home. Even with the assistance of two helpers and a maid, it had taken over a week to pack what should have taken just days. But the process had been filled with emotion as she packed up her life for the journey to Los Angeles.

  Beverlyn walked to her favorite place in the office, her eyes taking in the activities below. The sun shone brightly on the streets that led from the Riverwalk to Jackson Square. As always, the French Quarter was filled with pedestrians, tourists and residents alike, roaming each block, soaking up the sights and sounds of this Cajun metropolis.

  How many days had she spent the same way? Only her strolls hadn’t been leisurely. Her time on the streets was for personal survival. She spent hours eyeing the crowds, then following the most inattentive person she could find. Someone so wrapped up in the flavor of the city that he wouldn’t discover his missing wallet until she was long gone. It had been a tough job for her, but at seven, eight, and nine years old, it was her only means of survival.

  Ah, the streets below held her secrets. No matter how hard she tried to rid herself of the bad memories, they stuck to her. Thankfully, she knew that God had forgiven her long ago. But getting rid of the shame and guilt wasn’t so easy. That’s why she worked so hard now.

  Even if she couldn’t shed the memories, she knew that in a few hours, New Orleans would be history, with little left to connect her to this city. Even the New Orleans Children’s Mission, her first major purchase more than ten years ago, was in the hands of new owners with the condition that she stay on as one of the directors. She had to make sure the Mission never reverted to the kind of place it was when she called it home.

  “Beverlyn, are you busy?”

  She turned toward the voice. Whenever she seemed to think of her early days, her Uncle Linson would appear, as if to take her away, as he’d done all those years ago.

  “No, I just finished closing these last boxes. Do you need something?”

  L.W. looked around the large office that seemed to have shrunk with the clutter of the boxes. His thin lips eased into a tight line that was meant to be a smile. “Looks like you’re all packed up. We’re on our way.”

  Beverlyn sat at her desk, devoid of the papers and folders usually scattered across the top. “I can’t believe we’re really leaving New Orleans.”

  L.W. perched himself on the side of her desk. “You’re not getting butterflies?”

  “No… It’s just how do you leave a place you’ve called home for thirty-seven years?”

  “On a jet plane with a multimillion-dollar enterprise in your hands and a new venture that will bring millions more. And,” he added softly, “with an uncle who will always take care of you.” L.W. lifted Beverlyn’s chin. “You know that, don’t you?”

  Beverlyn tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “I know, Uncle Linson.”

  “There’s nothing to worry about.” He stared into her eyes, trying to reassure the grown woman whose eyes were filled with the same fear he’d seen when she was nine years old. Finally, he lifted himself from the desk. “I told the limousine to pick us up at four.” He looked at the Rolex on his wrist. “That gives us about three hours.” He turned toward the door. “By the way, any word from Grandison?”

  “Not really.” Shrugging her shoulders, she winced. “Maybe he’s not interested.”

  “Don’t give up yet. I’ll give him a call when we get to L.A. After I talk to him, he won’t be able to turn us down.”

  At once, Beverlyn felt relieved. Few men turned L.W. away. With the influence he wielded as president of Beverlyn Boudreaux Ministries, few men wanted to. Then again, if there was anyone who might not succumb to Linson Lejohn, it was Dr. Dwayne Grandison. And as much as that intrigued her, it also shook her confidence.

  Just as L.W. put his hand on the doorknob, the voice of Beverlyn’s assistant sounded over the intercom.

  “Ms. Boudreaux. Dr. Grandison is on line one.”

  She slumped back in her chair as if preparing for bad news.

  L.W. stood in place as she picked up the phone. “No need to worry, honey. He’s smart enough to know what this deal cou
ld mean for him.”

  “Dr. Grandison, I’m glad to hear from you. I hope you’re calling with good news,” she said, her voice full of confidence she didn’t really feel.

  “Actually, I hope it’s good news for both of us. I’ve decided to take you up on your offer to join the Jubilee Network.”

  “This is good news. When I didn’t hear from you, I wasn’t sure you were interested.”

  “Are you kidding? Ms. Boudreaux, it’s a very attractive offer, but there was a lot to consider. I needed time to sort everything out.”

  “Listen, we’ll work this out together. On our end, we’ll do all we can to ensure this works within your scheduling considerations. We really believe in you and this show.”

  “Well, I still have a lot of questions …”

  Beverlyn smiled, looked at her uncle, and then swiveled her chair slightly away from him, missing the frown that instantly filled L.W.’s face. “That’s no problem, Dr. Grandison. All of your questions will be answered. I’m flying into Los Angeles today. Can we meet the day after tomorrow?”

  “It’s good, but please call me Dwayne.”

  “Only if you call me Beverlyn.”

  As Dwayne and Beverlyn continued to talk, L.W. left the office, making the way to his own down the hall. Boxes cluttered even the doorway, but he stepped over them, moving to his desk. He sat down and tapped his fingers along the walnut top. Beverlyn had sounded a bit too elated to hear from Grandison. Granted, it had been his idea to have Dwayne host the program. His research told him that Dr. Dwayne Grandison would be an asset to their team. The man was highly respected, well known, and good-looking—the latter being important because of the high premium the TV industry put on looks—and he had recently been widowed, which would render him inaccessible on any other level.

  He had assumed that building a relationship with anybody—including Beverlyn—was out of the question. But he sensed Beverlyn had something more on her mind. Something, he feared, that could leave him, L.W., out of the loop, and he would never stand for that. Yes, Grandison would be an asset, just as long as he didn’t cross to the other side of the balance sheet.

  L.W. mulled the options over in his mind. From the beginning, he’d establish that he was in charge—the president—or as he and his boys used to say back in Mississippi, the head-Negro-in-charge. Dwayne Grandison would get the message quickly. But there was no need to take chances. L.W. pulled the Palm Pilot from his jacket and scrolled the list of telephone numbers, but then quickly closed it. Why was he letting a little conversation between Dwayne and Beverlyn get to him? Then again, why had she told Grandison she’d answer all of his questions personally, when she always left the business to him?

  Not two seconds passed before he reopened his PDA and began dialing. If L.W. could put his finger on what had helped him to get to where he was, it was his caution. The phone call, he reasoned, was a simple insurance policy, and if Dwayne Grandison ever overstepped his boundaries, L.W. would just as surely cash that policy in.

  Dwayne was still smiling minutes after he’d said good-bye to Beverlyn. She had been as enthusiastic as he. She had so much faith and her words warmed him. And reminded him of Yvette—especially during the early years of their marriage. Dwayne buzzed the intercom, and a moment later, Monique appeared at the door.

  “You called me, boss?”

  He nodded. “Come in. I need to rearrange my schedule a bit.”

  Monique walked in, a pencil and pad in hand. “Shoot,” she said, poised to take notes.

  “I need to free up some time.” Dwayne leaned back, clasping his hands behind his head. “I’m thinking Tuesdays and Fridays.” He paused, returning Monique’s curious stare. “What’s wrong?”

  “You already have Mondays free. Now Tuesdays and Fridays? The way you’re going, I might not have a job in a month.”

  Dwayne laughed at her straightforwardness. “As long as I’m in practice, you’ll have a job. In fact, we may need to expand your responsibilities in the near future.”

  Relieved, Monique lightened up, tapping her pen against her leg and teasing, “Here we go with that undercover stuff.”

  “I’ve gotten an offer to do a television show with Beverlyn Boudreaux’s new network, and I’m going to take it.”

  The telephone rang and Monique sighed. “Don’t think you’re getting off. I want some answers, mister,” she said before she picked up the phone, then cupped her hand over the receiver. “It’s Nina Jordan. Do you want to take the call or call her back after you tell me what’s going on?”

  He motioned for the phone and waited until Monique stepped from the office.

  “Nina, good to hear from you. I’ve been meaning to call …”

  “I hope I’m not interrupting. I wanted to schedule time so that we could review the materials for the first Man-to-Man meeting.”

  “That’s a good idea. And—”

  “My day is full tomorrow, but I was hoping you’d have some time Thursday.”

  Dwayne took a breath. Why was she being so professional? He glanced at his calendar even though he already knew he’d scheduled Beverlyn in the 7:00 P.M. time slot.

  “Dr. Grandison?” Nina called his name.

  “Thursday would be fine as long as we’re able to do it late afternoon.”

  “I have a meeting with Pastor at three. How’s four o’clock?”

  “That works,” Dwayne said, still smarting over the unwanted formality. “Nina, I’m looking forward to getting this project started. So… I’ll see you Thursday.”

  “Thank you.”

  Dwayne still held the phone, with only the sound of a dial tone in his ear. What might he have done wrong? Why was she being so businesslike? He buzzed the intercom for Monique again.

  “So how’s it going with Nina?” She smiled coyly.

  “I honestly don’t know. I’ve gone from being her date to Dr. Grandison again and I thought we had a good time.”

  “I don’t know”—Monique shook her head—“’cause she sure seems to like you.”

  “Has she said anything?”

  “It’s not that. Women just know these things. Believe me, she likes you.”

  Well, he was not going to try to figure this out. It was beyond his comprehension. If he was going to reduce his office hours, he’d better get to work.

  Chapter Ten

  Even though I still want to watch one of your sessions, I think some of what I outlined will work well in the men’s sessions.”

  Nina’s eyes rested on Dwayne’s lips.

  “I really want to focus on how men can more effectively deal with the pressures and responsibilities that so often seem to be closing in on them. How we can remain godly in the face of so much worldly temptation and how we can better interact and mentor young men, as well as the kinds of things we can do to strengthen our resolves and each other, while handling the emotions we tend to keep inside.”

  When she noticed his lips had stopped, Nina coughed and moved her eyes away. “Great. It sounds like what I’m doing with the women. When do you think we can make an announcement about the first meeting?”

  Dwayne tapped the pen against the table. “I’m not sure. By the end of today, I’ll have a better idea.”

  “Still working out your schedule.”

  “Something like that.”

  “I’m glad you’re excited.” Nina matched his smile. “I believe this is going to make a real difference.”

  “I hope so.” He looked at his watch and began pushing his papers into a single pile.

  “So all that’s left to decide is when you can observe one of my sessions. Actually …” Nina looked up. “I have a session in about an hour.” She moved from the conference table to her desk and picked up the folders. “You’ll have a chance to meet—”

  Dwayne stood and put on his jacket. “I won’t be able to do that tonight. I have another appointment.”

  She dropped the folders back onto her desk. “Oh, of course.”

&nb
sp; He looked at his watch again. “Do you have a moment?” he asked somberly. “There is something I’d like to discuss with you.”

  Nina slowly lowered herself into the chair, staring at him with piercing eyes. “This sounds serious. Is everything okay?”

  “Sure. I just wanted to tell you about a new project I’m working on. Why would you think that there was something wrong with me?”

  “Forget I even said that.” She smiled, embarrassed at the slip. “Tell me your news.”

  The smile returned to Dwayne’s face and he leaned back in his chair. “It looks like I’m going to take a few small steps in tracks you set a long time ago. I’m being given an opportunity to host a television show.”

  “That’s great. Tell me everything. Where? How?”

  Dwayne laughed at her enthusiasm. “Well, you make me feel good. Maybe I am doing the right thing.”

  “I’m sure of that, but tell me about the show.”

  “I’m joining Beverlyn Boudreaux’s new television network.”

  “Oh.” Nina leaned away from him and folded her arms in front of her. “That’s nice.”

  “I believe it’s going to be an important venture. Not just for me but for the Christian community. I’ll be doing a talk show mixing celebrities with ordinary citizens giving their testimonies, telling about their struggles and triumphs. We’ll do some counseling, some preaching, and a whole lot of praying and praising.”

  Nina dropped her arms. “Dwayne, this sounds incredible.”

  Nodding excitedly, he continued, “The best part is that though it’s a Christian show to inform and entertain believers, our prayer is to reach nonbelievers. And, though they may never enter a church, they might find deliverance through this show.”

  Nina smiled.

  “I apologize. I’ve just gone on and on.”

  “And you should. This is an exciting project.”

  “I’m on my way to a meeting with Beverlyn.” He pushed back his chair. “Their timetable is aggressive. She wants the show to air in a month or so.” He glanced at his watch. “I’m running a bit late.”