Wearing My Halo Tilted

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Wearing My Halo Tilted Page 23

by Stephanie Perry Moore


  It was six o’clock in the morning when our phone rang. As I listened to Dillon say a few words, it sounded like he had panic in his voice. The next thing I knew, he was frantically putting on his clothes. He was bumping and stumbling in the darkness until he made his way over to turn on the light.

  I said, “What’s going.”

  “It’s coach. He said he urgently needs to talk to me. I don’t know if he’s got wind of the fact that I’m going up to Maryland for an interview or what. I don’t know, this isn’t good. I certainly don’t want to get fired.”

  “No worries, if so, your buddy practically told you it’s your job there.”

  “Yeah, but I shouldn’t have set up the interview before I talked to coach. I was planning on telling him before I went out there, but this might blow up in my face now.”

  I grabbed his hand and calmed him down. I was so thankful God was truly leading our family. Somehow I knew God would take care of us. I couldn’t sleep for the next two hours. Though the girls were quiet, I just felt concern for my man.

  Worried, I prayed, “Lord, let Dillon and me have peace. Help us to get the right formula here. Help us trust You and not get so frazzled. I calm him down then, but as soon as he leaves, I get knots in my belly. Or is that my baby boy. You demonstrated that You have us in the palms of Your hands. I want that to be enough. Minute-by-minute, day-by-day, step-by-step help.”

  The phone rang. My husband was ecstatic. The news was that our defensive coordinator was just offered the head job at the University of Central Florida. So now there was an opening at USC.

  He said, “Yeah, coach wanted to tell me he had heard about me wanting to go someplace else. He said no one wants me to leave and since I have been pretty much running the defense he wanted me to take the job. Shari, he told me whatever the salary I was looking for I could name my price. You were right . . . look to God.”

  I just squealed. Put down the phone. Did a little dance, and felt hungry all of a sudden. I knew building my intake would keep me from having to go to the hospital for fluids. It was real good news that I was starving.

  Picking up the cordless, I said, “Dillon, I’m hungry. I’ve got an appetite.”

  “Baby, yeah, you feel like eating? Well, that’s right on time, I’ll be right there to take you out,” he said with enthusiasm. “Coach told me to go home and celebrate with my wife. He wanted me to tell you in person, but I couldn’t wait. He said congrats on our little boy too. He hopes he’s still coaching and can get him on the field one day. I’m coming home and taking my girls out for breakfast.”

  As I got up to get a shower, my phone rang. This time it was Tina. I felt like this day was too much when she told me that three companies were bidding for my book. They were three of the best in my opinion. I was just ecstatic at what a great lesson it was for me to learn. When I turn things back over to God, He gives me everything I longed for.

  I just needed to be content with what He was doing. Not try to do His job anymore. He wasn’t just the star of this team, He was the whole team. He didn’t need me to play. As I understood my role, I realized how good He was.

  When I told Dillon at breakfast my news with three book companies, he said, “When you do things God’s way, it can’t fail.”

  “So are you happy?” my mom asked as she helped me fold clothes in Starr’s room.

  “Yeah, I’m so happy, Mom. Not just for what I have, but for what I know. And how I plan to live the rest of my life,” I said, so filled on God’s love. “And I don’t know what kind of bid I’ll get for my book, but three companies wanting it . . . wow. For the last book, I got an advance of ten thousand dollars. If I double that, I’m excited. My agent seems to think because of this whole national scandal and that all these companies aren’t Christian publishers, so they like the drama, it may come back in my favor. She keeps saying we’re now looking at a sizable advance. I don’t know what that means, but with Dillon getting a promotion we’re already good.”

  “I’m just happy you don’t have to move. And your dad is thrilled about the grandson,” she said, rubbing my belly, which was uncharacteristic of her.

  “Sorry I haven’t always been the daughter that really understood you. I know I gave you many sleepless nights.”

  She nodded. “But I’m so proud of you. I’ve got to do a better job of wanting to be close to you myself. Not just keeping your kids, but being there for you as only a mom can. I could open up myself more. I didn’t have that closeness with my mom, since I was the oldest and she was so young herself she barely knew how to be a mom. Then when I lost my dad at such a young age, a part of my lovey-doveyness faded, but holding your babies, my grands, in my arms . . . seeing you struggle . . . let God show me that I needed to step up and be a better mom to you. And not just criticize you all the time.”

  I reached over and hugged her. She didn’t have to apologize anymore. I didn’t have to say anymore. The embrace meant, hopefully, from this point on we wouldn’t have any more regrets. I could come to her as me and she would except that, and I could take in what she wanted to say without feeling like I was letting her down. It was a beginning.

  My mom was kind enough to watch the kids while I went to lunch with Josie. I hadn’t talked to her in a while. I was so glad to hear that her marriage was still intact as well. Her husband had been sticking to his decision that she was right. His wife came before his mom. He couldn’t walk the fence nor could he choose his mom, if he valued his marriage.

  She said, “Girl, I’ve been thinking about your prayer for a bit. There was a void in my life. A hole that no husband could fill. Feeling desperate to be better in every area, I turned to God and asked Him to complete me Himself. When I talk to Him now, I sense Him relating to my every word. The satisfaction I feel is like I was royalty or something.”

  I wasn’t expecting it when Josie told the waitress she didn’t want a midday cocktail. Which for her was a little strange. She was different. My carefree fun-loving best friend that thought she had so much time to get her life right with God, now was filled with the Holy Spirit.

  “I got your e-mail. All is well in babyland, huh? And it’s a boy. Well, you know I’ve got the two and can give you advice. Hopefully, I’m having a girl and you can give me advice on raising them. Guess it looks like we’re pregnant together again.”

  “Oh my, gosh,” I screamed so loud that folks in the restaurant looked at me like I was crazy. “My girlfriend is pregnant.”

  We both just smiled as we rubbed our bellies with one hand and held each others hand with the other. Then I just naturally closed my eyes and prayed for the Lord to bless us both, as we go through our pregnancies, bless our families and continue to guide and direct us.

  Later that night I knew that I hadn’t talked to Mrs. Kindle to tell her the results of my paternity test. I felt bad that I’m sure her husband had to tell her. But when I said, “Hello,” she wasn’t mad at all. She just started shouting, “I knew it! I knew everything was going to be great. Oh, and girl, it gets better. My son needs to talk to you tomorrow. Some Los Angeles production company wants to put the song you wrote for your grandmother on an album.”

  Clutching my chest to avoid a heart attack, I said, “Are you serious?”

  “Oh honey, yes. My son said he’s working on a movie soundtrack. Supposedly in the film a grandmother passes. When he played your song for the director and producer they loved it as is. Congrats,” she went on to tell me before we finished the call.

  I walked outside after placing my jacket on and looked up at all the glowing lights in the sky twinkling toward me. The whole fact that opportunity was possible was just a God thing. I’d learned many lessons and gotten something meaningful out of the detour from my walk with Christ. I came away from this past six months learning that if you don’t stand on God’s path in the end, your end might not be with Him. Many folks say they believe, but a life that has truly opened their heart to God lives differently. A believer doesn’t have to
have a miserable life on earth.

  Hearing the phone chime again, I went back inside. It was Tina. I didn’t allow my heart to race, but I couldn’t help it beating a little faster.

  “You’re not going to believe this,” she said with excitement before I could get a word out. “Wait this is Shari, right?”

  “Yes, it’s me,” I said, biting my lip hoping at least one publisher didn’t bail out on still wanting the book.

  “Landon Home Publishers bid one hundred fifty thousand dollars for your book.”

  “What?” I uttered, knowing I’d heard her wrong.

  “Yeah, I got you a one-book deal for a hundred and fifty grand. That’s like what . . . fifteen times what you got on your first book. Looks like getting dropped from your other contract was a huge blessing. God has a way of making a masterpiece from dirty, nasty mud.”

  Crying at the Lord’s mercy, I said, “You are the best agent in the whole wide world.”

  “No, you humbled me a little bit. I wanted to be your agent, your mom, and your publisher. Sometimes I was a little too condescending, a little too hard on you. Wanting to help you before you made bad choices. Looking back on stuff, it looks like I might have pushed you into more mess than I meant you to get into. Most ungrateful authors talk about me behind my back. You got me straight though. Before you cut me loose, you gave me another chance to do my job. And thanks to the Almighty, I was able to come through.”

  “Thanks for not giving up on me either when I was being ridiculed in the press. Your loyalty is priceless.”

  “Shari, I’m so happy for you. Because the book is already written, when you sign, you’ll be getting a very nice check too, girlfriend.”

  “Oh, Tina, this is just so amazing. Thanks again,” I said before we agreed to talk the next day to go over other deal points.

  When I hung up the phone, I saw lights coming toward me from the dark street. I knew it was Dillon. I so hoped his day was great because I couldn’t wait to tell him about mine.

  Unfortunately, he entered the house and threw down his coat and keys. The frown on his face explained he was bummed about something. Before I could talk to him, to share my news and cheer him up, he went in the bathroom.

  When he came out, he bitterly said, “Though coach told me to name my price, the athletic director is only offering one hundred and fifty grand. My buddy in Maryland has it cleared to pay me fifty thousand more. To keep you home with the kids, we’re going to have to move after all. I’m sorry. I really wanted to be here too, but financially we just need more.”

  I blurted out, “Well, hold up, let’s not get ahead of God. Don’t you think three hundred thousand will be enough?” He looked at me like I didn’t hear him. I explained, “You are looking at the newest Land Home author whose book just got picked up for a hundred and fifty grand advance.”

  “What, that book you were writing and I read is getting a hundred and fifty grand upfront. God is really honoring our staying together.” Dillon swung me around, and my stomach kicked hard.

  I teased, “Wait now, your son doesn’t like that. He’s getting jealous.”

  “Well, he’s going to have to stand in line, big daddy’s here now.”

  We kissed under the moonlight. My life was perfect when I followed God. He gave me way more than I ever deserved. It was as if the lights and stars winked at me. I thought of them as angels saying, “See, all you got to do, girl, is stick with the Man and life will be more than okay.” Letting them know I fully understood and would not be wavering anymore from God’s plan. From now on I’d keep my halo on, take my burdens to God, and always follow His star.

  Enjoyed

  Stephanie Perry Moore’s

  WEARING MY HALO TILTED?

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  CHASING FAITH,

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  Chapter 1

  Venture

  I’m young, attractive, and intelligent, so why am I lying here with this guy when I don’t even love him? It’s an early November morning and C-SPAN is blasting from the other room. I’m annoyed. I was getting real tired of the casualness of our relationship. I tried to cover my naked body with the silk sheet thrown across the bed. I moved carefully so Mr. Three Times in One Night wouldn’t wake up and want to go another round.

  Troy Evans and I had been seeing each other intimately, with no strings attached, for seven months. Neither of us wanted any commitment other than our jobs. We were coworkers and a darn good team, both on the job and under the covers. He was hitting thirty-three and I was almost twenty-eight. However, I now wanted more than a fling. I didn’t know what it was I was chasing, but I did know Troy wasn’t the answer.

  As an FBI agent, I considered myself to be tough. Upholding justice was my life’s work. Ever since my alcoholic dad left my mother, little sister, and me when I was ten years old, I felt I had to protect the three of us. I was the oldest, so I had to take care of my family.

  My mother raised us in church, so the only father I knew was a Heavenly Father, and most times I wondered if He was even there. You know, when Mama couldn’t pay the rent, when we had no food, or when I wore shoes to school that were way too small because we had no money for new ones. Where was God when my mother couldn’t get folks in our small church to help her? Out of desperation she turned to a local drug dealer for a job. It destroyed her life, and not having her there for me sent me searching for love in all the wrong places. So here I am with Troy.

  Troy and I found our way into each other’s arms after work one day. It was early April, and I’d been on Troy’s team for eighteen months. It was my tenth assignment since coming out of training—I had been an agent for almost five years. We were working a money-laundering case. We’d tracked our suspect, Rudy Roberts, from our hometown and headquarters in D.C. to New York City. Troy, another agent, and I were in a surveillance van, following Roberts in a cab. Suddenly the yellow taxi pulled over and Roberts got out, smiled at our van, and started walking briskly down the sidewalk.

  Very annoyed that the guy had somehow found us out, Troy ordered, “You guys stay in the vehicle and follow me—I’m tailing Roberts.”

  He hurled out so fast that he didn’t take a radio. When Roberts ducked down a dark alley, Troy followed him. We couldn’t see either of them.

  After waiting a few minutes, panic began to set in. I opened the van door.

  The other agent yelled, “We need to stay put.”

  “We can’t even see him now,” I rationalized. “What if he’s in trouble?”

  I ducked down that same blind alley and heard a scuffle. With my gun drawn, I crept up the sidewall behind a green, industrial Dumpster. Suddenly the struggle ended.

  Roberts laughed. “You’ve nothing on me. Get ready to die.”

  Taking a deep breath for courage, I walked a few paces more and saw Roberts on top of my case leader, his gun in Troy’s face.

  I identified myself by saying, “Freeze—FBI!” When he cocked his gun, I shot mine on impulse.

  After the smoke cleared, I realized I had shot a man for the very first time in my life. I suddenly felt this awful guilt. Although I’d spent countless hours at the firing range, I was not prepared for the emotional reaction that I would have when I was actually in that situation.

  “What have I done?” I mumbled.

  Then Troy was in front of me, taking the warm weapon from my hands. “If you hadn’t shot him, he would have killed me. I’m forever grateful—and glad you disobeyed my order and got out of that van.” He smiled.

  After Internal Affairs investigated for days, they concluded I did the only thing I could have. Still, I was mentally drained and shaken. After the shooting I couldn’t handle my emotions in the field, so my boss, Agent Thomas Hunter, decided to keep me chained to my desk, reviewing cases and talking to confidential sources, gathering evidence until he thought I was ready to get back out there.

  Troy understood my disappointment. Not too long after I was benched, he as
ked to buy me a late meal. Since the shooting, I didn’t like being alone at night, so I accepted his offer. We went to a local steak house and ate and drank for several hours. Later, Troy saw me to my door. I was slightly inebriated and he wanted to make sure that I got in safely. He opened the door for me with my keys but didn’t say good night.

  Troy looked deep into my eyes that hazy April night and told me I was beautiful and sexy. I hadn’t heard that from a man in too long.

  I pulled him close to me and kissed him deeply. I wanted to be found attractive again by a man. It had been years since I’d felt the warm hands of a strong man all over my body. No part of me hesitated as I slipped into his arms.

  Though Troy made it clear he didn’t want anything serious, that was the first of many wonderful, sensual nights that we would spend together. Law enforcement wasn’t the kind of career that lent itself to settling down. The women Troy had dated before me didn’t understand that. The long hours and spur of the moment out of town trips for weeks at a time without a decent night off weren’t the kind of thing most women could deal with. He was one of the FBI’s best agents, so he handled some of the biggest cases in the world. Romance came second to adventure for Troy.

  At first, that wasn’t high on my priority list, either, so we made a good match. We’d get together whenever we felt like keeping each other’s bed warm. Other than that, neither of us had any expectations. Months ago that was okay, but now, lying next to him, I was suddenly sick of the arrangement.

  As I gazed at his muscular body, toffee-colored skin, and handsome face, I thought maybe, just maybe, I was ready for more than just casual sex with no commitment. Something inside made me see this as wrong. Was it the Holy Spirit at work?

  Stepping out of bed, I hurried to the bathroom. It was almost two A.M. Spending the night this time was not an option. I had too much going on inside me. Not only was I starting to hate our no-strings-attached relationship, I was also starting to despise my profession. I was honestly burnt-out personally and professionally. Our unit worked closely with the Drug Enforcement Agency, following seedy characters from state to state until we finally got enough evidence for an arrest. But each time I saw a major drug dealer get off on a technicality, it made me want another job. And watching others work on cases in the field while I was still tied to a desk didn’t help matters any.

 

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