The Replacement Wife

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The Replacement Wife Page 17

by Tiffany L. Warren


  But every moment of the worship reminded him that Chandra was not there. She had been his partner in every way when it came to the music. When his playing hit the frenzied pace, her singing complemented that.

  After the praise and worship team finished, the welcome committee, greeters, deacons, and all the other church auxiliaries did their morning routines. When they asked the visitors to stand, Quentin almost did so as a joke, but then he thought better of it, because a hugging brigade was sent to the visitor, and he was not trying to hug anyone else.

  Next the choir was introduced, and Montana took her place in front of the microphone reserved for the soloist. She smiled out at the congregation as the introduction for her song started.

  “Have you ever been through something you felt like nobody could understand?” Montana asked the audience. “Not your mother, not your father, not your pastor? Have you ever experienced a trial that you could only talk to God about? In those times when we struggle, and we think that no one can empathize with our pain, that’s when we stand on God’s Word, remember what He said, and encourage ourselves.”

  When Montana sang the first few notes of Donald Lawrence’s song “Encourage Yourself,” Quentin could tell that her voice wasn’t just good. She had an anointed voice. It rose and fell in time to the music and to match the lyrics. The choir sounded like her backup singers, because Montana moved the congregation like a solo artist. She went from one side of the pulpit to the other, making eye contact with members. When she got to the vamp part of the song, the choir sang “I’m encouraged” over and over, but Montana’s ad libs were a sermon all by themselves. Quentin had no idea there was so much power inside that petite package. He was in awe of the God in Montana.

  “Daddy, you’re crying.” Deirdre handed Quentin a tissue, and he quickly wiped his face. The last thing he wanted anyone to think was that he was soft or that he was sitting in service crying over his first wife. He was touched by the sheer beauty and the Holy Spirit that was evident when Montana sang that song. It took everything in him to stay in his seat and not go and push the keyboard player out of the way. He wanted to play while Montana sang.

  As Montana and the choir continued, Quentin stood to his feet. He didn’t seem out of place, because about half the congregation was standing too. He couldn’t stay seated when that type of praise was going forth. He had to be a part of it.

  When the song was over, Quentin, along with the rest of the congregation, gave the choir and Montana a huge round of applause. Montana smiled at Quentin, and he smiled back. Quentin was so caught up in the presence of God that he didn’t care if Chloe paid him any attention.

  Finally, Bishop Prentiss took the stage. Quentin made eye contact with him, and they exchanged smiles before Quentin took his seat. Bishop Prentiss had always been a second father to Quentin, and Bishop was one of the few people that Quentin still talked to from church. Of course, the conversation always turned to when Quentin was coming back, so their discussions weren’t as frequent as Bishop would probably like them to be.

  “I’ve been talking to God about this message for a few weeks,” Bishop Prentiss said. “He’s been giving me so much to share with you on one passage that I might just have to split it up. I might finish it in Bible study. Y’all do remember that little middle-of-the-week service, right?”

  The congregation chuckled at Bishop Prentiss’s joke. It was no secret that their church was packed every Sunday morning, but it was always just a faithful few for the midweek Bible study. Quentin wasn’t surprised that it hadn’t changed in that regard.

  “But I want y’all to open your Bibles to the book of Job,” Bishop said. “It’s in the middle of your Bible, right before Psalms. Go to chapter thirteen and verse fifteen. It is one of my favorite verses, because the message there illustrates our lives as Christians.”

  Quentin opened the Bible application on his phone and clicked to the verse. He stared down at the words and felt a knot form in his throat. The verse read, “Though He slay me; yet will I trust in Him: but I will maintain mine own ways before Him.”

  Bishop Prentiss said, “Y’all know who Job was referring to in this Scripture, right? Who is doing the slaying? Or who has Job perceived to be the slayer? Job is talking about God in this verse. Job was a man who had lost nearly everything. If anyone had been slain, it was Job.”

  Quentin empathized with Job. He, like Job, had lost much. And Quentin, like Job, had blamed God for all his losses. Quentin definitely viewed God as the slayer in his situation. Unlike Job, though, Quentin was having a difficult time with the “yet will I trust in him” part of the verse. It was almost impossible for Quentin to trust God again. He’d trusted him to be a healer, and he hadn’t healed Chandra. He’d trusted him to work miracles, and no miracles had gone forth. Quentin was still trying to understand how to trust God.

  Quentin listened to Bishop Prentiss explain the mind-set of Job.

  Bishop said, “Job was a man who had lost nearly everything. In the Scripture he refers to himself as being slain, and he perceives God to be the slayer. He has lost children, wealth, and health. He feels tried, tested, with the instructor being his heavenly father. Yet after reflecting back over his loss, Job realizes that he has no other choice but to trust God. Without his faith in God, Job would perish from grief and lack of understanding. His trust in God is what allowed him to have a life after his loss. He trusted in God for restoration, even though on the surface it looked as if none was possible.”

  Quentin’s jaw tightened as he listened to the words from the pulpit. How was it fair that God allowed these things to happen when He could stop them? All his life Quentin had heard the Scripture “By His stripes we are healed.” Why was it only in certain situations that the power came into play? Had he not prayed hard enough? Had he and Chandra not served God with all their hearts? There were many “amens” and “hallelujahs” going up from the congregation, but none of them came from Quentin. He was unable to join the chorus of believers.

  Bishop continued. “Sometimes we think that God should just enfold us in bubble wrap and shield us from every danger, hurt, or trauma. We want our lives to be sheltered and covered at all times. But I ask of you, how would you know that God was a provider unless you were ever in need? How would you know that God was a waymaker if you were never in a bind? How would you know that He could heal you if you’ve never been sick? The trials in our lives help us to understand how much we need Him. Our lives, our purpose, our joy, and our pain are designed to do one thing—bring us into a reconciled and divine relationship with Him.”

  Now the claps and shouts were echoing from the walls and the ceilings. The congregation was on fire, some dancing in the aisles, some clapping and shouting with joy.

  “If you trust God,” Bishop said, “in the midst of your trials, I promise He will sustain you, He will restore you. He will mend you where you’re broken. His love will fill every place of lack.”

  The message touched Quentin in a way that no one would understand. For once, he didn’t feel guilty for blaming Chandra’s death on God. Job had done the same thing, but he had also chosen to trust God for the future. That day, Quentin decided to trust God that there was more for him after this pain. He looked into the choir loft and gazed at Montana. Was she a part of his future? Was she a part of what was promised if he trusted God?

  Quentin knew that he, like Job, had no other choice but to trust God. If he remained where he was, stuck in a dead-end relationship with Chloe and sinning every chance he got, he’d never have that reconciliation with God. Trusting meant that the future was in God’s hands and that hopefully restoration was there too.

  After service was over, Montana and Estelle descended the choir loft and came to stand with Quentin while he was bombarded by church members and well-wishers. Many of Quentin’s old choir members hugged him and begged him to return. He just smiled and accepted their greetings.

  Quentin extended his arms to hug Montana, but she gave him a cra
zy facial expression. He ignored the face and pulled her into the hug.

  “You did really great on your solo! Thank you for inviting me today. I needed to be here.”

  “I’m glad you came, Quentin.”

  “Quentin Chambers!” Bishop Prentiss walked up to Quentin with his arms outstretched. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I could’ve put you on the program to play a solo.”

  Quentin chuckled. “Bishop, that’s exactly why I didn’t tell you.”

  Quentin hugged the man he once called his spiritual father.

  “Are we going to see you again?” Bishop Prentiss asked.

  “I’m not sure. Montana invited me today. I came to hear her sing.”

  “You know we can let Montana sing a solo every week,” Bishop Prentiss said, “if it’ll get you back in the house.”

  Quentin smiled. “Now that’s a plan that might actually work.”

  “I’m sure these ladies want to have brunch or something, am I right?” Bishop Prentiss asked.

  All of the girls voiced their agreement, and Montana stood with a serene smile on her face. Quentin hoped she felt like part of the family. That’s how he wanted her to feel.

  “Hope to see you soon, Quentin,” Bishop Prentiss said, before patting Quentin on the back and moving to another group of members who wanted his attention.

  “Dad.”

  Quentin turned around to face Reese, who was standing behind him. There was a girl with him. She was pretty, but a little chubby in the face.

  “Is this your friend?” Quentin asked.

  “Yes. I . . . uh . . . wanted you to meet her. Dad, this is Mariah. Mariah, this is my dad, Quentin Chambers.”

  “How do you do?” Mariah asked.

  This made Quentin smile. Reese had obviously coached her. The girl looked a little rough around the edges, and definitely not someone who was raised to say “How do you do?”

  Reese said, “Mariah, this is my grandmother, Mrs. Chambers, and my sisters Danielle, Madison, and Morgan. You already met Deirdre.”

  “Mmm-hmm!” Deirdre said. “What’s up, Mariah?”

  Mariah looked at Reese and he nodded. Mariah looked back at Deirdre. “Hey, Deirdre.”

  “Hello, young lady,” Estelle said. Quentin knew her facial expression. She didn’t approve of the girl, but she wouldn’t be rude enough to treat her badly.

  “And the lady in the pink is my sisters’ nanny, Ms. Montana.”

  Montana walked up and hugged Mariah, the way she greeted everyone. “Hi, honey. Welcome to Freedom of Life.”

  “Dad, do you mind if Mariah goes to brunch with us? We are going to brunch, aren’t we?”

  “Yes. Where would you like to go? Since you’re bringing a guest, you pick the place.”

  “Mariah likes Paschal’s, so how about there?”

  “That works,” Quentin said. “Let’s roll out.”

  Quentin noticed the serious look on Reese’s face as they walked out of the church. He tapped his son on the shoulder and let the rest of the family continue on while they stayed back.

  “Everything all right?” Quentin asked Reese in a low voice.

  Reese shook his head. “No.”

  “What’s going on, son?”

  “Mariah is pregnant.”

  Quentin exhaled. “Is it yours?”

  “Yeah.”

  Quentin figured that Mariah was his girlfriend based on the enthusiasm of his response. He exhaled again. The last thing Reese needed was to be a baby’s father.

  “What am I gonna do, Dad?”

  “Let’s talk about it later. First we eat.”

  Quentin wrapped his arm around Reese’s shoulders and squeezed. It was a man-to-man hug. It was a good thing he’d decided to accept Montana’s invitation to church. Because he was going to need a whole lot of prayer to fix this situation.

  CHAPTER 33

  Deirdre stood at the top of the staircase reading a text message from Chloe. She’d asked for a favor. In exchange for the favor, Chloe would make sure Deirdre was able to get out of the house all night long for Moe’s prom. And the after-after prom.

  She clutched the phone and thought about the task for a moment. All she had to do was get Montana’s phone for a few minutes. She was to retrieve a picture off a Web site link that Chloe was going to send her, and then she was going to text her father the picture, and she was supposed to address it to a guy named Rio to make it look like a mistake.

  Deirdre didn’t like the plan.

  She knew that Chloe was desperately trying to get her father back, but as much as she hated to admit it, Montana was growing on Deirdre too. Montana was nice to her little sisters, and her dad really seemed to like her. Maybe she should stop helping Chloe. If her father wasn’t so unreasonable, then maybe she could do that. But Deirdre knew her father would never let her anywhere near Moe, let alone go to his after-after prom.

  So, yes, she would help Chloe this one last time. And then she was on her own. If she wanted to get her father back, she’d have to find someone else to do her bidding.

  Deirdre put her game face on and bounced down the stairs. Her grandmother and Montana were seated at the informal dining table in the kitchen, and it smelled great.

  “Is it dinnertime?” Deirdre asked. “It smells great in here.”

  Estelle smiled at Deirdre. “We’re having a food tasting for the masquerade ball. Sit down and join us. Since Chloe is no longer coordinating this shindig, I need your opinion.”

  Deirdre spied Montana’s phone on the shelf over the microwave and nodded. “I hope this food is as good as it smells.”

  Deirdre made herself a plateful of salad and sat down. She was anxious to get this phone swiping thing over with, but she had to do it at the perfect time.

  “Did you have homework?” Estelle asked. “I know it’s almost the end of the school year, but it seems like you should still be busy.”

  “I don’t have any homework. I did it at school.”

  “Are you happy it’s almost summertime?” Montana asked.

  “Yep. Are you happy? You’ll get to spend more time running with my dad since you don’t have to take anyone to school.”

  Estelle shook her head. “You need to stay out of grown-folk business.”

  “I’m almost grown. And I’m trying to hold a conversation with the nanny. Is that all right?”

  Montana chuckled. “The nanny? How about just Montana?”

  “Okay then, Montana.”

  “And to answer your question, yes, I am glad the school year is almost over.”

  “That wasn’t the whole question.”

  “Oh, the other part of the question wasn’t your business.”

  “Right.”

  Deirdre wasn’t sure, but she thought that maybe Montana was trying to check her on the sly.

  “That salad was fantastic,” Estelle said. “I can’t wait to taste the rest of the meal. Darrin is a really good cook.”

  Montana nodded. “He really is. I’m surprised Emoni isn’t huge, what with all the food he cooks for her.”

  “She’s a very lucky girl. Darrin’s a hard worker, and he comes from money.”

  “Darrin is wealthy? I didn’t know that about him.”

  “Yes. The Bainbridges are lovely people. We met them when they visited last year.”

  “Emoni is lucky, then. Darrin is the whole package.”

  Estelle smiled. “Well, maybe she’ll just have to rub some of her blessings off on you.”

  Deirdre rolled her eyes. This conversation was completely boring. She had to focus on getting the phone. She saw the perfect opportunity when the caterer’s staff burst in with the main course.

  “I’m full from the salad,” Deirdre said.

  “Okay, honey. We’ve got a lot more food to try. You’re welcome to stay in here if you want.”

  “I’m good.”

  While the waiters hustled and bustled in with plates, trays, and serving carts, Deirdre slid behind them and
swiftly slipped Montana’s phone in her hoodie pocket without anyone seeing what she did. She hurried out of the kitchen and back upstairs to her bedroom, while her grandmother and Montana finished devouring all that food.

  Once in her room, Deirdre opened up the Web link that Chloe had sent her from Montana’s phone. When Deirdre saw the picture, her mouth dropped open. Chloe was dirty! She wondered if the picture was Photoshopped, because Montana was looking like a straight video hoochie.

  Deirdre hesitated again. Of course, Chloe was trying to break them up, but this was drastic, not to mention her father had looked kind of happy at church. Especially when he was listening to Montana singing.

  Deirdre’s phone buzzed with a text. It was a picture of Moe in his tux, at the tuxedo shop. He looked so fly that all the girls were going to be jealous when they saw them together. She just had to go to prom with him.

  Before she changed her mind, Deirdre downloaded the picture onto Montana’s phone. She wrote the text exactly the way Chloe had told her to write it. Hey Rio. Thinking of you . . . Can’t wait until you . . . well I won’t say. It wouldn’t be ladylike. xoxo.

  Then she sent it to her father.

  Finally, she took a picture of the sent text message with her phone and texted it to Chloe to prove that she’d done it. Once she was sure it was sent, she deleted the text from Montana’s phone and Chloe’s text with the link from her phone.

  The job was almost complete.

  Deirdre waited at the top of the stairs until she heard her grandmother and Montana go into the office with the caterer to talk business. She made a dash into the kitchen and slid the phone back onto the countertop.

  Deirdre felt a little twinge of guilt at the pit of her stomach. But maybe it would backfire on Chloe. As long as she could keep her date with Moe, it would be worth the risk.

  CHAPTER 34

  Chloe smiled when she looked at the picture text sent from Deirdre’s phone. Chloe had worried Deirdre would chicken out and not do it, but the girl had really come through. She deserved to go to prom with that thug if she wanted to, although Chloe had no idea what she saw in that boy. He was a hot one, but that was about it.

 

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