Rachel looked around at other people sitting in the area. “I don’t believe any of these people here care to hear us pray out loud,” she said.
“Excuse me,” Marie said to the other four people in the waiting room. “Would y’all mind if we prayed in here?”
The man sitting at the far end shook his head. Two women sitting next to each other on the right-hand side smiled and said they didn’t mind.
Marie looked at the woman nearest them. The red-headed woman smiled. “I’d really rather not hear your prayers myself. But I think they have a conference room you can go in if you really want to pray in that manner.”
Donald looked at the woman. “So you’re telling me this is a free country, but if I want to pray, I can’t pray unless you say it’s okay?”
“Donald, don’t,” Marie said as she got up and walked over to him. She knew her brother. “It’s okay. We can go to the conference room. Really, it’s not that big of a deal.”
“No, I want to pray right here,” Donald said, getting to his feet.
“Donald, it’s not like you’re such a religious person that you need to make a scene about this,” Marie said. “It’s okay. We’ll go find a conference room and pray.”
“I don’t want to go find a conference room to pray. I want to pray right here, right now, right where I am. And if that bothers anybody in here, then they can just close their ears or leave,” Donald said as he stood flat-footed in a stance of pure defiance.
“Listen, you asked if I mind if you prayed out loud in here,” the woman said. “I told you I did. Personally, I don’t think your right to pray trumps my right not to hear you pray,” she said.
“Well, quite frankly, I don’t think your right to not hear me pray trumps my right to pray if I want to talk to my God. This is America. We have certain guaranteed rights, certain freedoms here. A few things like freedom of religion and freedom of speech.”
The woman shifted her body. “But you don’t have the right to infringe upon my rights.”
“I’m not infringing. You still have the right to remain silent and/or the right to leave,” Donald said.
“Donald!” Mrs. Gates said. “Don’t be rude.”
Donald turned and looked at his mother. “Mama, I’m not being rude. All I want is to be able to praise God for the work I know He’s doing in there with my sister and her baby. I want to pray and ask God for His help, His mercy, and His grace. God created us for His glory. He created us to praise Him. You told us that. Since we were little, you’ve told us not to be ashamed of God, no matter where we may find ourselves. God made a way for me to be able to pray and get my prayers heard, through Jesus, whenever and wherever I need to. And right now, I feel we need to pray. My sister is in there fighting for her life. Her life! Her baby is fighting for its life. We don’t have time to be playing around, looking for some conference room just because somebody doesn’t want to hear us pray. None of us objected when she was gossiping, talking all loud on her cell phone essentially about nothing! We sat here and had to hear that mess, whether we wanted to hear it or not. She didn’t stop and ask if we minded her talking to them. At some point, followers of Jesus are going to have to take a stand and quit letting people continue to push us out.”
Donald then bowed his head and began to pray. “Our Father, which art in Heaven. Lord, I know it’s been some time since You’ve heard from me. But Lord, my sister has been a faithful servant. Not perfect by any means, but faithful. And she needs You now.”
As Donald prayed, the rest of his family stood, grabbed a family member’s hand, and formed a circle. “Lord, I ask You to please place Your arms of protection around her and that little baby. Give them strength. Heal them, right now I pray, Father. Whatever they need right now, Lord, You know. And You’re able to do it. Touch them right now. Give us strength, Lord. Have mercy on all of us. Forgive us of our sins. Please hear our cry. Johnnie Mae and I may have had our differences, but I don’t want to lose my sister.” Donald’s voice began to crack and break up. Unable to continue, he stopped speaking.
“Lord, we thank You that You hear us always,” Marie said as she picked up where Donald left off when he no longer could go on. “We thank You that You’re the ultimate doctor. That You can do what man can’t do. That You can go where man can’t go. Father, give George . . . Pastor Landris strength, that he may be able to stand—come what may. Help, Lord. Move, Lord. Heal, Lord. Touch, Lord. These and other blessings we ask in Jesus’ name. Amen.”
When Donald opened his eyes, he saw that the man and the two other women were standing with them. But the woman who hadn’t wanted to hear them pray had left.
A few minutes later, Landris opened the door and walked in. He wasn’t grinning from ear to ear the way a new and excited father would normally be doing at this time.
“What’s wrong?” his mother asked as she rushed to him. “What happened?”
“It’s not good,” Rachel began to say out loud as she shook her head. “I can tell by the look on his face. It’s not good.”
Virginia hugged her son as he sat in a chair. “The baby?” she asked.
A momentary smile crossed his face. “A boy,” Landris said before he began shaking his head. “He’s so small. A fighter for sure, though. But Johnnie Mae . . .” He started to choke up.
“What’s wrong with Johnnie Mae?” Mrs. Gates asked as she stepped to him.
Landris looked up at her with tears in his eyes. “She’s in SICU,” he said. “She’s not doing well at all. Dr. Baker says she’s extremely critical. She can’t promise anything at this juncture. There’s nothing more they can do for her. Everything is in God’s hands now. Dr. Baker says the next twenty-four hours will really be crucial.” He shook his head some more, then allowed his mother to hold his head against her shoulder.
“Is Johnnie Mae conscious?” Rachel asked, her voice trembling as she spoke.
He sat up and shook his head. “No. She didn’t even get to see the baby. He’s so tiny—three pounds and two ounces. They took him to the neonatal intensive care unit. He’s struggling to breathe. They have him hooked up to all these tubes and wires. They say it’s not looking good for him, either.” Landris sat back against the chair. “I did get to touch him. For one minute, I touched him. For one glorious minute, I held my hand on his tiny body, and I prayed like nobody’s business. He was so perfect, this tiny little being—my son. I have a son.” He beamed with pride, then a shadow of sadness came. “Johnnie Mae didn’t get to see him. Things went haywire. They put me out of the operating room as they worked frantically on her.” He looked toward Heaven. “God, she has to pull through. She has to. I realize You’re sovereign. But God, please. I know that You didn’t bring us this far to leave us.”
Chapter 39
Behold, ye trust in lying words, that cannot profit.
Jeremiah 7:8
Montgomery Powell the Second sat in the darkened room with a brandy glass in his hand.
A high-pitched voice broke into the quietness. “My goodness, Montgomery. Why on earth are you sitting here in the dark like this?” The woman turned on a floor lamp.
“Polly Swindle, must you always make an entrance when you come into a room?”
“Of course I must always make an entrance. Now, what was so important that you felt you had to summon me here like you did?”
He set the glass on the coffee table. “The box.”
“The box?” she asked as she slowly lowered her thin frame down onto the other end of the sofa on which Montgomery was sitting. “What box, Monty?”
“The so-called Wings of Grace box. My sources tell me that you may be in possession of it, as well as a certain Alexandrite necklace.”
“Your sources, huh? Well, dearest Montgomery, maybe you should get yourself some new sources.” Polly stood up and adjusted her tight-fitting hounds-tooth crop jacket, then smoothed down the front of her matching A-line skirt.
“Polly, don’t play with me. I want the box and everything that was inside
of it. As for the Alexandrite necklace, I may allow you to keep that as your reward, provided whatever is inside that box is worth it to me, of course. Now sit down.”
She looked at him.
“I said, sit down!”
She quickly sat. “I’m telling you, Monty, it wasn’t me.”
“Okay, let’s start over,” Montgomery said. He stood and poured some brandy into another glass. “The box is missing. Lena and Memory are desperately trying to find out what happened to both it and the necklace. I know this because I hear that, earlier today, they were questioning the staff at my aunt’s home.” He handed Polly the glass.
Polly took the brandy, swirled it, sniffed it, then took a polite sip. “Fine as always,” she said before setting the glass down on the coffee table. “So you say they’re questioning everyone? Have they figured out what might have happened to the things?”
He sat back down. “No. And since I specifically planted you in my aunt’s life to find out whatever I needed to know, when I need to know it, then you, my dear, need to tell me something .” Montgomery crossed his legs and began to swing the top one.
Polly picked up her glass, held it up to her face, and swirled it again. “Sarah went to the hospital on Saturday night,” Polly said, then took another sip of brandy. “Gayle called me and told me that when they were waiting for the ambulance to arrive. I went to the house and ended up driving Lena’s husband to the hospital to meet up with the rest of them. I then brought Lena and her husband back home late that night, and now I’m hearing from you that things are missing from the house. The way you’re behaving, they must be quite important—the necklace, I know. But the box sounds like it is as well.”
“So what are you telling me?”
“That I don’t know anything more than you obviously do,” Polly said as she took yet another sip from her glass.
“Pauline,” he said, invoking her birth name. “Are you telling me the truth here?”
“Monty, you know me. We’ve known each other for almost half a decade now. Have I ever lied to you?”
Montgomery stood up. “Well, somebody has to know something.” He walked to the window with its drawn, red velvety draperies. “Then who do you suspect took them?”
Polly sipped more of her brandy. “You’ve talked to Gayle, you say?”
“Yes.”
“And I gather she told you she didn’t take them?”
“That’s what she told me when she came by earlier today.” He turned and walked back to the sofa. Picking up his brandy glass, he drained it dry, then set it back down.
“And you believe her?”
“I believe her about as much as I believe you,” Montgomery said, narrowing his eyes as he gazed at her before he began scanning her body slowly from head to toe.
Polly leaned in seductively, set her empty glass on the table, and smiled. “It sounds to me, Monty, you have serious trust issues. Perhaps you should consider some form of therapy. I know a wonderful doctor, if you’re interested.”
“Oh, I’m sure you do.” He walked over to her and pulled her up to a standing position. “Did you take that necklace and that box?” he asked.
Polly winced. “Montgomery, stop it. You’re hurting me.”
He pressed in harder. “Did you . . . take . . . those things?”
She tried to pull herself out of his grip. “Stop it! I told you, you’re hurting me.”
He shook her. “One more time, Polly,” he said. “Did you take the Alexandrite necklace and that Wings of Grace box out of Sarah’s house?”
“No, I did not take the Alexandrite necklace or the Wings of Grace box out of her house! Now let go of me!” Tears made a pool in her eyes as she stared back into his.
Montgomery released her and began to pat and smooth down her shoulders. “Sorry about that. I really didn’t mean to hurt you. I spoke with Gayle on her cell before you arrived. When she was here earlier, it was before I knew those things were missing. She said she didn’t take them. You say you didn’t. What are you two doing there if you can’t handle simple tasks?” He went and poured himself some more brandy.
Polly sat down on the sofa and gathered herself. “Okay, I can understand you being upset. But Gayle had plenty of opportunity to get those things for you. She’s right there in the house. They trust her explicitly. And she was there on Saturday night when those things went missing. It seems to me, she would be the most likely candidate.”
Montgomery stopped and stared at her. “Who said the things went missing Saturday night?”
Polly picked up her clearly empty glass and attempted to drain what amounted to only a drop of brandy.
Montgomery walked over with the decanter and poured a little more brandy in her glass. He put the crystal top back on the decanter. “How did you know those things went missing Saturday?” he asked in a slightly different way this time.
She drank the brandy in two gulps and smiled. “I don’t know when they went missing,” she said. “I just assumed it was Saturday. It would have been a perfect time with so much happening.” She held her glass out to him for a refill. He obliged. “The issue isn’t when it happened, but who could have taken them. You seem pretty sure Gayle didn’t do it. Maybe it was Sarah’s cook, Monica, or perhaps the housecleaner, Minnie. Truthfully, I wouldn’t put it past that so-called daughter of Sarah’s—Memory. We know she stole that necklace once. From her own daughter and granddaughter no less.”
“But that just makes no sense. Why steal a necklace you already have in your possession?”
Polly laughed. “Monty, don’t you see, darling? You have to think like a criminal. It’s the perfect crime with the ideal cover. You take the necklace yourself, act like it was stolen, then sell it. If I were you, I’d have my people check out all the pawn shops and antique jewelry sellers around town.” Polly took another sip. “Unless evidence shows up that someone else really might have taken those things, I’d put my money on Memory.”
Polly’s cell phone began to sing a ringtone by Sting. Looking at the number on the caller ID, she smiled. “It looks like Sarah is calling even as we speak. Excuse me while I take this.” Polly answered it, talked for a few minutes, then clicked the phone off. She grinned. “Speak of the devil, and he’ll usually appear. That was Memory. Seems Sarah wants to celebrate Christmas early this year. They want me to get my décor people to come to her house and set up Christmas decorations befitting a celebration to top all celebrations. Sarah’s planning to have Christmas in June—the twenty-fifth to be exact.”
Montgomery snickered. “Christmas in June? Sounds to me like Auntie Sarah may be feeling she doesn’t have long for this world. This is perfect! And just think—this will give you even more of a chance to see what else you can find out as you help them plan.” He began to rub his hands together. “Now, how marvelous is all of this?” He smiled. “After all these years, things are finally beginning to fall into place. Finally!”
Chapter 40
Hast thou not known? Hast thou not heard, that the everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth, fainteth not, neither is weary? There is no searching of His understanding.
Isaiah 40:28
Angel and Brent located Pastor Landris in the hospital waiting room near SICU. Three days had passed since Johnnie Mae had delivered her baby, and she still had not regained consciousness.
“Pastor Landris, you need to get some rest,” Angel said after they’d gotten all the pleasantries out of the way and talked general stuff for a few minutes. “Brent and I will stay here until you come back while you go home and get some real rest.”
“I’m fine. I want to be here when Johnnie Mae wakes up,” Landris said.
Angel quickly glanced at Brent, his cue to feel free to jump right in.
“Listen, Pastor Landris,” Brent said, “we’re a little concerned about you as well as your health. Your mother is especially concerned. She told Angel you’ve only gone home to change your clothes, then you’re right ba
ck here. That’s not good, and you know it.”
“God is sustaining me. He’s renewing me. I’m okay. And I am getting some rest.”
“Where? In a chair in this room?” Angel asked. “Pastor Landris, we’re not saying you shouldn’t be here at all. You just need to take better care of yourself, that’s all,” she said. “You just have to.”
Landris put his hand in his pants pocket. “My wife is in a coma,” he said. “My son is fighting for his life. They need me. They need to know I’m close by. I need to be here for them for me.”
“But you can’t possibly keep this pace up,” Brent said. “You’re not God, who neither slumbers nor sleeps, nor does He have a need to.”
“I know I’m not God,” Landris said, frowning at Brent as he took his hand out of his pocket.
Angel stepped a little closer to Brent as she sheepishly looked up at Landris. “Brent didn’t intend it the way you’re taking it. That’s why you need to go home and get some rest. And I mean some good uninterrupted sleep, not just a quick power nap. A person can become edgy when he or she hasn’t gotten enough rest. Lack of sleep affects the brain.... It affects the way we function. Please, Pastor Landris, all we’re asking you to do is to go home and get some rest. That’s all. Then you can come back renewed, refreshed, and ready to go another round or two, if you have to.”
Landris smiled. “I keep telling you I’m fine. But I appreciate you two for caring about me and my well-being. Johnnie Mae is going to come out of this coma any minute now. I know she is. And I plan on being close by when she does. After this is all over, I can catch all the z’s I want. God is absolutely sustaining me through this. All of this is merely a trying of my faith. Like a stress test, only we can call it a faith-endurance test.”
Angel glanced at Brent before casting her attention back to Landris. “Mrs. Knight called the church yesterday evening. Sherry was out of the office, so they transferred the call to me,” Angel said. “She’d heard what was going on, and she asked me to tell you that she’s praying for you, Johnnie Mae, and the baby. Also, she’ll see you on Saturday.”
If Memory Serves Page 20