by Love Belvin
When he said things like that…it totally threw me askew.
“Alexis, I would never propose something you couldn’t deliver on. I am happy to know what your idea of a day of nuptials is. So, you’d be interested in a wedding?”
“So you think you’re going to get me the cheap way? What were you thinking, the justice of the peace? A damn courthouse wedding?”
Ezra’s nostrils flared. “Alexis, that mouth is going to get you into so much trouble when I can explore it freely,” he threatened.
“Well?”
He took a deep breath. “Beloved, I had no idea what your thoughts were on the subject, and now that I do, I can assure I will give you the wedding of your dreams. Cost should be of no concern to you. It would be my gift to you for acquiescing to my untimely request.” He took me at the wrists again, circling them. “I need you to trust me on this. What do you have to lose?”
His question echoed my thoughts of this whole crazy arrangement with him. I took a moment to consider that question. It had become my theme of reasoning to agreeing to every proposition of his.
“We do it this July—mid July—and by then all your debt will be paid off, reasonably.” His forehead creased. “We’re not talking anything egregious, are we? What do you have, student loans?”
That alone is enough!
I shook my head, overwhelmed by it all. Why is this man so insistent?
“I’m not prepared to discuss my debt right now, Ezra.”
A wedding in six weeks? I was still stuck on that.
“And we won’t. We can arrange to meet about it next week when I can have my accountant front and center. Right now, I want you to see if my bedroom is suitable for you. If not, I can have it redesigned how you want, pending no construction. I’ve had enough of people on my property drilling over the past month or so.”
Was he serious?
“You’re serious?” I asked, aghast.
“Alexis, you know by now I do very little kidding. I am gravely serious.”
“Okay.” I dropped it. “Let’s go.”
Ezra shook his head. “I’ve already compromised our integrity by having you in here for so long without anyone to hold us accountable. I don’t think I can promise much dignity if we’re in my bedroom together.” My mouth dropped. His eyes grew in response. “I’m not taking that chance again. I only ask that you remove your shoes before going in.”
I mechanically glanced down at my sandals. Was he serious? Yup. This was Ezra. He never joked around. Without further argument, I toed off my sandals and moved to open one of the doors, paying him a final look of sass before stepping in. It was clear he was still remorseful about the vibrator incident in my bedroom. The moment I advanced closer into the room to gain a full view, I was intrigued.
Fucking huge!
His bedroom was the size of half of my apartment. The tan walls were a cloth material bordered by stained ivory marble. He had a Victorian styled bed with wrought iron head and foot boards. Likely for tying women up to. I still wasn’t over that night with the pastor. The wall backing the headboard was recessed and carved out to frame it. Gorgeous! There were two columns letting out into a small lounge with couch, two standalone chairs on both sides and a coffee table in the center. And just when I was blown away by the three dome floor-to-ceiling windows behind the couch, I noticed a patio door leading out to a veranda.
I traveled into his closet that was way larger than my tiny bedroom. The room was centered by two sitting stools with white upholstery with black embroiled designs. The walls were lined in black cabinetry against tan carpet. On one side, the shelves and poles filled with men’s clothing, meticulously aligned and organized by clothing type and color. The opposite side was completely empty, resembling move in day. I couldn’t recite it verbally, but I knew for whom that side was reserved. And with that frightening realization, I padded back toward the double doors of his bedroom dazed.
Goddamn! This place was out of a fantasy!
“You like?” Ezra’s eyes were wild with anticipation, waiting for me in the hallway.
“Let’s just say I can live with it.”
He straightened and I caught the twitch in his lips. He knew I was totally taken by it. I didn’t want to stroke his ego, but damn, Ezra’s house was gorgeous.
He led me out to the back in his massive yard where Thaddeus and Miranda were waiting. She was eating, holding a small plate. We moved closer to them where there was a spread laid out and someone working the grill. The backyard was filled with trees just as the front, only more. This was massive property.
“This place is gigantic,” I noted out loud.
“It’s four acres. My grandfather bought the property for me for my eighteen birthday,” Ezra murmured, as he inspected the table of food. “Are you hungry? I wanted to give you something to nibble on before I show you the back property, but I don’t see the Japanese food I ordered for yo—”
“Oh, the sushi?” Miranda garbled with a mouthful.
Ezra answered her silently again, wielding that admonishing glare I’d seen of him a time or two.
“My bad,” she uttered without batting a lash. “We’ve been waiting and I’ve been starving. The rolls were so good, I couldn’t stop eating them,” Miranda explained dryly. “They were fresh.”
“I’m sorry, Alexis,” Ezra began, glaring at a chomping Miranda, but addressing me. “I was trying to surprise you, but I guess I didn’t calculate hungry guests. Can I get you something else?” His eyes returned to me. “It’s just for a few more minutes while I show you my gym and new construction.”
“I’m actually not hungry,” I replied honestly. I was too overwhelmed by him and this colossal property to eat. “I can wait.”
“I wanna go!” Miranda trilled, now bringing emotion into her tone.
Ezra met her with another hard glare, to which Miranda didn’t break. She still had expectant eyes. Things went quiet for a moment.
“Thaddeus, please escort Miranda.” Ezra requested, bringing Thaddeus’ presence back into the party.
I didn’t get how those two were compatible. But who was I to say? I was marrying a stranger, pending Ms. Remah’s approval upon her return. My stomach toiled at the thought of that task.
“I’m with you, Pastor.” Thaddeus placed his cup on a near table and began to follow.
Ezra led us back to his gym. There was an overhead on the walkway there, as it was off the main house. It resembled a tan aluminum shed on the outside, but inside was professionally laid with state of the art exercise equipment, multiple monitors on the walls, mirrors all around and a large padded area for, I assumed, his martial arts.
As I stood near the door, the head of the spacious room, and Miranda trekked around, Ezra whispered inconspicuously in my ear, “If you ever decide to start working out, though I don’t think you need to, I wouldn’t mind sharing my fourth most coveted room on the property.”
I turned to him and could see Thaddeus behind him, near the door.
“And what are the others?” I began counting on my hand, entertaining him. “Your kitchen is…?”
“Not on my list,” he answered swiftly.
“Your office has to be. You like to work.”
“That would be number three.”
“Okay, your bedroom can’t be on your list because I can hardly imagine you taking enough time to rest with your schedule.”
“I’m forecasting with that one. It will be number two once you move in.”
Deciding to ignore that comment or how it caused a tinge of excitement to course through me, I began my summary. “Okay, so I have number two, three, and four. What’s number one?”
“That is forecasted, pending your move in, too. You’d have to wait until you do to find out.” Dismissing me, he faced the open room where Miranda was still touring and announced, “That’s enough on the gym. I have one more brief destination and then we eat.”
“You should try working out with the pastor sometime,�
� Miranda muttered over to Thaddeus, as she gaited past us.
My head flew to Thaddeus, eyes begging for him to check her. He didn’t, only shook his head, sighed silently while rolling his eyes. Ezra moved out of the room unperturbed.
So, I’m the only one who feels this chick is cold? I followed suit with Thaddeus out the door.
“It isn’t done, but slated to be complete in three weeks, at least the foundation and interior rooms. Then it will have to be designed,” Ezra shared once we arrived in front of what could be described as an in-law suite, a few yards from his gym.
The distance wasn’t far, but it was a considerable walk from the house. Nothing extreme, just an easy reminder of how large this property was.
“What are you planning on making it?” Miranda asked, tenting her eyes against the sun as she studied the unit that doubled the size of my apartment.
Ezra’s eyes raked over to me, darkening almost immediately. “Another recreational room of sorts.”
Why was he engaging me while answering her?
“Like a game room? Different Play Stations?” she continued her questions with serious inquiry.
And while issuing me a penetrative stare, he affirmed, “Of sorts.” I caught another spasm of his full lips beneath his beard from Ezra’s clear mischievousness.
I fought to not roll my eyes. I knew if I asked him to be more specific he’d shut me down like he did Miranda, so I digressed.
And so did she when Ezra told us we were done touring his property and could now eat. We headed back to his deck and enjoyed the robust late lunch that I learned was prepared by a private chef Ezra procured for the event. This meal didn’t feel so interrogative. I didn’t feel like I was in a petri dish. Instead, and oddly, I felt like I was being treated and charmed by Ezra. I had something he wanted and he was raising the stakes to acquire. It had been two weeks and I still couldn’t believe I was engaged. It didn’t seem real. And I knew why.
Ezra’s eyes landed on me. He smirked as he chewed, jaw movement almost undetectable beneath his thick beard. But the slant in his eyes read accomplished.
Slow down, buddy. I have a final level of clearance to get through before I can give you what you want.
As if he could read my mind, Ezra nodded and winked with a full-on confident smile as he continued chewing his food.
Lex
I was just going down to the main men’s locker room to meet with my grounds guy about complaints of the smell of mold that I had been receiving for a couple of weeks now. I could have sent him alone, but George claimed to have lost his sense of taste and smell over the years. Just as I grabbed my keys, the desk phone rang.
“Lex Grier.”
“Lex! I’m glad I caught you before you left for lunch. I know I said you would’ve heard back from me last week, but I didn’t hear about your budget in the 2016/2017 appropriations until last night after a closed city council meeting that ran for hours.” That’s when I recognized Pamela Jackson’s voice.
What I wanted to scream was “What makes you think I have the time to take lunch around here?”
“Okay…” Come the hell on with it. “Do I get a date to present to the board?”
“Unfortunately not, Lex. The cuts are brutal this year. They’re not approving another extension. The city doesn’t see the need to continue to pour money into a scraggly building, much less a program that doesn’t serve the purpose it was intended—”
“But we serve the abjectly impoverished of this section of the borough. Our work here is legitimate. Look at the sub-grants we’ve been maintaining over the years!”
“I know, Lex. God knows every argument on behalf of the rec was highlighted in your line item of the agenda, but the decision was unanimous. No extended funding. I’m sorry. The rec will be closed as of July first.” My shoulders dropped and a cry caught in my throat. That was only weeks away. “I know one of the issues you inquired about is your time and those who have unused paid time off. It’s suggested that you take it immediately to use as much as you can. Whatever’s left will be paid out, if allowed per the city’s payout schedule.”
It felt like a knife had been sliced through me. The only reason I didn’t have a meltdown in that moment was because I knew the possibility had been looming for so long.
But damn, only a few weeks of signing in to the office?
“Thanks for informing me, Pamela. I have to go address my staff.” I heard the dejection in my voice.
“Sure thing. But, Lex, you have a solid reputation with those who know you, I’m sure you won’t have any trouble getting work in the city,” she attempted encouragement. “I’m sure.”
“Again, thanks for the call, Pamela,” I managed and ended the call.
Once I was able to gather myself, I announced my cancelation of meeting with George on the PA system and requested all the staff affected by this cut to make themselves available for a three p.m. meeting today.
I sat back in my small office and found myself gazing unseeing into the corners of the ceiling, noting each cobweb, and water damage stain. I’d been with the rec for seven years. My work here fueled me. Never one day did I come in and complain about the conditions of this decrepit room. More than anything, I worked to keep a spirit of welcome and hope for those broken individuals and families coming here in need of an eleventh hour miracle, or those few who used the rec appropriately and complained about the loitering of those who didn’t. I woke up each day charged with purpose, ready to run on injected optimism that some way or somehow the needs of everyone who came through the doors of this building could be met.
Now, going into the second week of June, I was left to wonder what my new purpose would be, where my next employment opportunity would come from. All of this on top of breaking the news to Ms. Remah about my impending nuptials…to a man I hardly knew.
Why were the details of the latter issue less daunting than the prior?
Ezra
“Pastor Williams of Zion?” I confirmed into my Bluetooth on the dashboard of my car.
My father rarely called for small talk, so I obliged his call when his name appeared.
“Yes, son. I know you were fond of him,” my father noted.
I wasn’t ‘fond’ of him, per se. Only I’d seen the potential in his ministry and had a crisp vision of how God wanted to expand Williams for His glory. He was moving up in rank in the organization. In two years he would have made bishop and traveled to third world countries, spreading the gospel. But none of this would come to pass, as he now was caught on an audio recording, soliciting a church member for sex. My heart ached for him and his family.
“His mother passed out when the tape was played for her on social media. His proposition was extremely vulgar.”
I winced, imagining his lewd banter. I’d counseled and ministered to him two years ago. The lust spirit he wrestled with was just one of many. The stories he’d shared with me in confidence came pouring into the forefront of my mind.
“Jamal…” I whispered my compassion.
“What was that?” My father asked.
“Nothing,” I mumbled, peering down the street of where I was parked, blindly observing the residents of the block, moving about on this late spring evening. Daylight had begun to linger into the evening hours during this time of the year as I began reflecting.
This news was troubling and was precisely why I’d been so adamant about finding a wife—waiting on God to send her to me. Unlike Paul, I wasn’t meant to minister as a single man. I needed a healthy woman to retreat to when I retired at night from my life’s mission as an evangelizing clergyman. This was why it was so important to move this process along with Alexis. I needed her in my bed, trained to be my submissive wife, fulfilling that role. I didn’t want to burn and, quite frankly, knew I was nothing like my father: I preferred fidelity. I didn’t covet variety in my sex life, much less my personal world. Most women reared in the faith would never consent to my unusual inclinations. I didn’t want som
eone who had been indoctrinated from birth. I needed someone with a clean slate, yielding spirit. No covering. Alexis was just that.
“Are you there, son?” My father’s croaking snapped me back to our conversation.
“Yes,” I sputtered. “I’m here, sir.”
But while I had him on the line…
“Bishop.”
“Sir.”
“I’ve asked Alexis Grier to marry me.”
“The young woman you brought to dinner? How—when did this happen?” It was his turn to stammer.
“I asked her a couple of weeks ago.”
“Why are you just telling me this? We don’t even know her,” he cried. “Your mother…she’s going to be upset by the lack of order, son.”
“I’ve been working on this for quite some time,” I answered, considering my initial petition of her delivery to me. “I haven’t formally announced anything because of a few minor details, the last of which will be handled shortly.” I eyed the front of Alexis’ apartment building.
There was a pause. My announcement was untimely, but I was prepared for this.
“I guess I need time to wrap my head around this, Ezra. You’ve never been proper with your timing or decisions, but I thought you’d turned over a new leaf.”
I took a fortifying breath, palmed my beard as I considered this. Easy, Carmichael. You know he’s never understood you to keep up.
“I have changed, I assure you. I know this doesn’t support that argument, but I have. I also know we should sit and discuss this as a family. There will be a rapid turn of events.”
“And just what does that mean, son?” he demanded angrily.
“We will wed no later than mid-July,” I informed with contrasting composure.
“Of this year?”
“Of this year,” I confirmed.
He sucked in a breath. “Just before—”
“My ordination. Yes.” I knew he’d quickly calculate that. It was what he’d been after me about for years now. “I will rightfully and willfully take my role as senior pastor of RSfALC providing one month off without interruption.”
