“Couldn’t be better, First Lady,” Carrie said. “We were just telling the pastor how much we like it here.”
“No more than we like having you here in the Showers family,” she said, embracing them with her smile. “I hate to do this,” she added, “but I need to steal the pastor for a few minutes.”
“We were going anyway,” Luther said. “You folks have a nice night.”
“Nice couple,” Sandra said as they walked away. Then she turned to her husband. “The leadership team is waiting for you. You called the meeting so I think you need to be there. Everybody’s tired, and I promised you wouldn’t keep them long so we’d better get started.”
Andrew followed his wife out of the fellowship hall and to the conference room across from his office. As Sandra had said, everybody was waiting for him. He guessed they’d gotten used to his tardiness by now. He was typically the last one to arrive at a leadership meeting. “I apologize for being late,” he told his team while he waited for Sandra to take her seat to his immediate left. After she was seated, he took his place at the head of the conference table.
“It’s time we start looking for a bigger building,” Andrew said without preamble. “The second service helps but doesn’t totally address our space problems. We are crowding Sunday School classrooms, and the fellowship hall doesn’t accommodate all of us.”
“We are at capacity with our children’s church as well,” Sandra added. “We need more space if we’re going to serve people the way they should be served.”
“Our membership is up, true,” Jacob Wilson said, “but so are our expenses. We’re barely staying ahead of the curve. I’d hate to see us incur more debt until we build up our reserves.”
“Especially if we’re going to continue providing social services for our members,” George Salley added. “We’ve paid mortgages, credit card debt, and auto loans. All total, we’ve spent a little more than two million dollars on these services.”
“That’s not a lot of money considering the record growth we’ve experienced in return. And we’re going to keep growing so we need to be prepared for that growth. Sandra and I have been looking at buildings. New Birth is getting ready to move to a larger facility, and we should consider taking over their existing complex,” Andrew said.
“But that New Birth complex seats twenty thousand people,” Rob Moore said. “We’re nowhere near that number.”
“Not today,” Andrew said, “but we’ll be close within the next year. If we had a complex that large, we could host events like the T. I. benefit on our property and not have to pay site fees. I’m pretty confident the complex would pay for itself over time.” He paused and then took a moment to meet the eyes of each leadership team member. “I’m asking you to take a leap of faith with me, much like the leap of faith you took to join Showers of Blessings in the first place. God didn’t let us down then and He won’t let us down now. All we have to do is move in faith.” He waited another long moment, and then he asked, “Are you ready to move in faith?” As his eyes moved around the table, he got a nonverbal assent from every member. His eyes finally met Sandra’s, and they both smiled. Just as they’d hoped, Showers of Blessings was going to expand in a major way.
Chapter 16
“Sandra,” her mother said, standing in her closet doorway, “this house is entirely too big. Whatever were you and Andrew thinking to get something so extravagant? I almost got lost trying to find you in here.”
Sandra chuckled. She stood in front of the Michelle Obama rack in her closet, trying to decide what to wear to this afternoon’s garden party. Andrew had invited their higher income members over to discuss the expansion plans. These people gave a lot of money to the ministry and liked to keep up with where it went. She and Andrew didn’t mind obliging them. “It’s not that bad, Mom. If you came out here more often, you’d learn the place fairly quickly.”
“I doubt it,” Ida said, dropping down on one of the two chaises in the closet. “Whoever heard of a closet with a chaise? This closet is as big as our master bedroom. All these clothes and shoes.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe you bought all of this stuff. You’ll never wear it all.”
“Which should I wear this afternoon?” she asked her mother, holding up the sleeveless black Michael Kors sheath identical to the one Michelle had worn in her official White House portrait and the blue polka-dotted Lavin Resort.
“The blue is better for the afternoon,” her mother said, shaking her head. “I like Michelle Obama, too, but you’ve taken it a bit too far.”
“I like her style, Momma. What more can I say?” She went over to her wall of shoes and pulled down a matching pair of blue Jimmy Choo slides. “I’m First Lady of a growing ministry. I can’t show up looking like a bag lady, especially with the guests we’re having this afternoon. These folks place value on presentation.”
“I think you’ve gotten too caught up in presentation. There’s a long way from bag lady to designers who serve the First Lady of the United States. Your old clothes were perfectly fine.”
Her outfit chosen, Sandra settled down on the opposite chaise facing her mother. “Don’t worry about us, Mother. We have the money. We aren’t living beyond our means. We can afford the finer things in life so we’ve bought them. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“I know you won a lot of money in the lottery, but I also know you’re spending a lot. You bought the horse farm for us, this estate for yourselves, those luxury cars in the garage, this new wardrobe. You’ve put the boys in a fancy and pricey private school. And I don’t even want to think about the money you’ve put into the church. There has to be a bottom to it, Sandra. You can’t keep spending this way forever. You’ve got to think about the future.”
Sandra sighed. Her mother was a worrywart. “You’re thinking the way I used to think when I’d look at Pastor and Vickie McCorry. They seemed to have so much more than the rest of us. But that’s not the way it is at Showers of Blessings. We have members who have as much as we do and members who have more. More important, we share with those who have less.”
“Still,” her mother said. “You have to be careful with your money.”
Sandra gave her mother an indulgent smile as she got up to pick out the jewelry she would wear tonight. “We’re careful, Mom. And we’ve planned for the future. We have trusts for the boys and for you and Dad. And the horse farm is yours free and clear. Don’t worry so much. Just enjoy. That’s what Andrew and I want.”
“The farm is not ours free and clear,” her mother said.
Sandra turned away from her jewelry safe to look at her mother. “What did you say?”
Her mother held her gaze. “I said we don’t own the farm free and clear.”
Sandra thought her hearing had gone bad. “Of course you do. I was there when we bought it, remember?”
Her mother looked down at her hands, now folded on her lap. “Andrew took out a mortgage on it last month.”
Sandra fell back against the safe, unsteady on her feet. “What?”
“Andrew came to your father last month and had him sign some papers. Your father was uneasy about it, but what could he say? Andrew promised it was a short-term problem and he’d pay off the mortgage within the next year.”
Sandra slid down to the floor with a thud. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Andrew asked your father not to tell you or me. He said he didn’t want you to worry about a situation that would be rectified within the year. I had no idea until today.”
Sandra didn’t like what she was hearing, but deep down inside she knew it was true. “What made Dad decide to tell you?”
“He didn’t intend to. But since it’s happened, he’s grown a bit cold toward Andrew. When he kept making excuses for why he couldn’t come today, I was able to get the truth out of him.” She met her daughter’s eyes. “He feels there’s more to this than Andrew is letting on.”
Sandra shared her father’s skepticism. Her heart told her wha
t the more was, but she couldn’t voice it. Andrew had promised it wouldn’t happen again. Things were perfect with them. He wouldn’t jeopardize it. He wouldn’t.
“Do you think Andrew could be gambling again?” her mother asked.
Sandra squeezed her eyes closed, wanting to shut out her mother, Andrew, the world.
“I’m sorry, Sandra,” Ida said, coming to sit on the floor next to her.
Sandra turned in her mother’s arms and sobbed as the weight of her world crashed down on her shoulders.
Chapter 17
Sandra stayed too long in her sons’ rooms tonight, but she needed the grounding that being with them gave her. Whatever might be wrong with her world, her children were not part of it. They were the one perfect gift her husband, the disappointment that he was, had given her. He would always have a place in her heart because of them.
With leaden feet, she headed down the wide hallway to the master bedroom. She didn’t know how she’d made it through the party. Had no idea what she had said or who she said it to. Everything was a blur. She hadn’t even been able to look at her husband. How could Andrew have done this to them again?
Relief settled around her when she entered the master bedroom and found he wasn’t there. She needed a bit more time to channel her anger. If she spoke to him now, she knew she’d say things she’d later regret.
When she entered her designer closet, she felt none of the giddiness she usually felt. What was there to feel giddy about? For all she knew, the repo man would be coming for her clothing and jewelry before the week’s end. This house that had meant so much to her could be gone as well. “Damn you, Andrew,” she said aloud, pounding her knee with her fist.
She stiffened when she heard the bedroom door open. She didn’t move when she heard Andrew call her name. She still wasn’t ready to talk to him. She wondered if she’d ever be ready.
She stood as his footsteps neared the closet. She’d come to undress, but she realized she didn’t have the energy to undress and have a conversation with Andrew, too. Undressing would have to wait. She forced herself up from the chaise and met him at the closet door. She preferred the much bigger bedroom area for their discussion. There she could put more distance between them. The way she felt now, that distance was as much for him as for her. She wasn’t a violent person, but the feelings she felt tonight were violent in their intensity. She had to control her environment as much as she could.
“Did you say good night to the boys?” she asked him as she brushed past him.
He turned and followed her. “Yeah,” he said. “You feeling all right? I’ve been getting a funny vibe from you all afternoon and evening.”
She fought the urge to scream at him. “I’ve been better.”
He lifted a brow. “Uh-oh,” he said. “What have I done now?”
Lord, she wanted to smack him. Sock him right in the jaw. She took a deep breath. “You tell me,” she said.
He chuckled, dropping down on the side of their king-sized bed. “Okay, give it to me with both barrels. What awful thing have I done?”
She turned and stared down at him. “This is no joking matter, Andrew.”
He got up, came to her, pulled her into his arms. “Tell me what’s wrong and I’ll fix it. Promise.”
A part of her wanted to stay cuddled in his arms, bury her head in the sand, and pretend there was no problem. She couldn’t. She pulled away and walked to the far side of the room, looked out the windows on their grand estate. She batted her eyes at the tears that blurred her vision.
“Okay,” he said, “if you don’t want to talk then I’ll talk. I thought the afternoon went well. You really know how to throw a party, babe. Everybody was impressed with the party and with you. You were the best-looking and best-dressed woman present.”
On any other day that kind of praise from Andrew would have had her sailing on a cloud, but not today. Today the things he praised seemed shallow, meaningless. “I don’t really care what those people thought, Andrew,” she said, turning to him. “I don’t even care what you thought.”
He took a step back. “O-kay,” he said. “I know you’re angry, but I have no idea why. Just tell me so we can fix this.”
She folded her arms across her chest, took a deep breath. “Did you take out a mortgage on the farm?”
He shrank into himself at her question, and she had her answer.
“How could you, Andrew?” she cried. “How could you?”
He dropped down on the side of the bed again, this time in defeat. “Your father should not have told you.”
“He didn’t,” she said. “He told my mother and she told me. But that’s beside the point. Why didn’t you tell me?”
He sighed deeply, wiped his hand down his face. “Because I didn’t want you to worry, and I knew you would. This is a short-term problem that I can fix.”
She met his eyes, held them, not wanting to ask the question she knew she had to ask. When he broke eye contact, she had her answer. “You’re gambling again, aren’t you?”
He looked at her but didn’t quite meet her eyes. “I can fix this, Sandra. I just need some time.”
Only the thought of her children kept her from screaming. “How could you do this to us, Andrew? You promised me,” she cried. “You promised me.”
He came to her again, but this time she wouldn’t let him pull her into his arms. “Don’t touch me,” she spat out. “Don’t even think about touching me again. You’re a liar, Andrew, a liar and a cheat. You’ve been lying to me, lying to God, and lying to the congregation. How could you?”
Although she struggled, he overpowered her and pulled her into his arms. He tilted her chin up so he could look into her eyes. “I love you, Sandra. I love you, I love our boys, and I love our life. You have to know that.”
She shook her head. “You don’t love us, Andrew, not as much as you love gambling.”
He held her tighter. “That’s not true.”
“I wish it wasn’t,” she said, between tears, “but it is. You’re like a man who repeatedly cheats on his wife with the same woman and expects her to forgive him. I can’t be that wife, Andrew,” she said. “I won’t be.”
He dropped his arms. “What are you saying? I told you I can fix this.”
“I’ve heard it all before.”
“And I’ve fixed it every time, haven’t I?”
“But at what cost, Andrew? The cost is higher each time. I don’t have it in me to pay again.”
“What are you saying?” he asked again.
“I’m sleeping in the guest room,” she said. Then she turned and left him standing in their bedroom calling her name.
Chapter 18
Sandra and Andrew faked their way through breakfast the next morning for the sake of the boys. She even kissed him good-bye when he headed off to the church, resisting the urge to wipe his taste from her lips after the kiss was over. For her kids, she could act. She just didn’t know for how long.
Her plan was to go back to bed after the kids were off to camp and forget her troubles in a daylong sleep marathon. Mrs. Willis, their cook, stopped her. “First Lady,” she said. “Do you want to make any changes to today’s brunch menu?”
Sandra slapped her palm against her forehead. She’d totally forgotten about her brunch plans with Vickie McCorry. After the McCorrys had been unable to make the house-warming, the two women had agreed to brunch. Sandra had eagerly offered to host it, mainly to rub Vickie’s nose in her good fortune. She’d planned to show Vickie how God had blessed them despite the McCorrys’ lack of support. She’d wanted to show the older woman how much bigger and better everything she and Andrew had was compared to what she and Pastor McCorry had. Now those plans seemed petty and meaningless. She wanted to cancel, but it was too late.
“The menu is fine,” she told Mrs. Willis.
“Will you still be eating on the patio by the pool?”
Sandra nodded. She didn’t have the wherewithal to make any changes at this
point. Her best bet was to stick with what was already arranged. That settled, she trudged back up the stairs and headed for her bedroom and closet. She’d chosen her outfit days before, just the dress to show off her newly toned arms and her newly acquired designer tastes.
She took her outfit—lingerie, jewelry, and shoes included—back with her to the guest room. She no longer belonged in the master bedroom with Andrew. Not after he’d betrayed her again. She placed the clothes across a chair in the guest room and then fell back into bed. She may not have been able to sleep the entire day away, but she’d gladly take the next three hours. She quickly fell into a deep sleep. She didn’t awaken until Mrs. Willis knocked on her door.
“It’s eleven, First Lady,” she said, through the door. “You’re going to be late for brunch if you don’t start getting ready.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Willis,” Sandra mumbled into her pillow. “I’m up. I’ll be ready.”
Sandra stepped into the guest shower and exited refreshed. The warm water had soothed her. Had she known how much better the water would make her feel, she’d have showered sooner. She quickly donned her outfit and made her way down the stairs. The doorbell rang just as she hit the bottom step.
She checked herself in the full-length mirror opposite the door and, pleased with what she saw, pulled open the door, a practiced smile on her face. “You’re right on time, Vickie,” she said, taking in the woman’s appearance. It was obvious she too had dressed to impress. “You look lovely. That’s a beautiful outfit.”
“Thank you,” Vickie said, entering the house. “You look stunning. And this entranceway is marvelous, so majestic. I guessed from the outside that this house was a masterpiece, but my guessing didn’t do it justice. I can’t wait to see the rest of it.”
Sandra relaxed a bit. Vickie’s enthusiasm and sincerity took some of the edge off. “Let’s do the tour first and then we’ll eat,” she said.
“That’s a good idea,” Vickie said with a laugh. “I don’t think I could enjoy my meal otherwise. Let’s get started.”
A Million Blessings Page 6