“Gabrielle, Mom. Her name is Gabrielle.”
“Okay. Gabrielle. How long have you known Gabrielle Mercedes?”
“You mean from the first time we met?” Zachary said.
“Okay, I can see already that you’re trying to set me up. Okay, Mister Smart Guy. Let’s try it this way. When did you first meet her? Then when did the two of you start dating?”
“I met her this year at a church-sponsored Inaugural Ball here in Birmingham on January twentieth. And we’re not calling it dating, we’re calling it courting, and that seriously started back earlier this month.”
“Early September. So, you two have been dating for what? About a month now? That’s definitely not enough time for you to be bringing her here to meet us.” Leslie stopped for a brief moment and sighed hard. “Well, at least she goes to church.”
Zachary was thinking that they hadn’t been courting quite a full month yet. But he wouldn’t dare correct her now. It would be more than a month by the time they arrived in a couple weeks. “Yes, she goes to church,” he said, choosing to stick with the safe topic. “In fact, she’s a faithful member of Followers of Jesus Faith Worship Center, and she’s on the dance team. And just this past week, she was hired to the staff of the church as head of the Dance Ministry. She’ll officially start the Tuesday after we get back from Chicago.”
“Okay. So is that all she does for a living? Work at the church? What is she doing right now to feed, clothe, and house herself?”
Zachary wasn’t ready to tell his mother that she worked as a maid. That would be all that his mother would need to start throwing around her favorite description when it came to him and the women who wanted to date him: gold digger.
“Look, Mom, I have to go. We’ll see you in about two weeks. Oh, and you know that Queen is flying in with us as well.”
“Queen needs to go back home to her husband,” Leslie said with a bite to her words. “I’m not in agreement with this separating stuff, not like this, while you’re supposed to be working things out. I don’t know how she expects to work out anything miles apart. And she’s pregnant. She doesn’t need to be traveling this way. She knows she’s miscarried in the past. Queen needs to sit down until this baby gets here. And you need to stop enabling her and tell her to go home and work things out with her husband.”
“Mom, I’m just going to be a good brother and support my sister. That’s it. She’s grown. If she wants to stay here with me while she and Greg work out things, then I don’t have a problem with that. Greg needs to get it together. He’s too much of a mama’s boy.”
“And Queen can be high maintenance herself. She has to learn that marriage is both give and take. They both need to learn that. It’s about compromising for the betterment of the relationship. How else do you think I’ve managed to stay married to your father this long?”
“I thought it was because he was such a great catch and you were lucky to hook him. Weren’t you the one I heard telling one of your friends what a hunk he used to be, and how all the other girls were after him, but then you turned on your charm and—”
“Okay, Zachary. Now you’re trying to be cute. I told you about eavesdropping and gossiping. I’m getting off the phone. I’ll see you in two weeks. You just remember what I told you: there will be no shacking up in this house, so you make sure you let your little friend know the deal prior to you arriving. I don’t want to hurt anybody’s feelings, but I will. You know I’ll do it.”
Zachary smiled as he hung up. If only his mother knew. Gabrielle was barely letting him kiss her. And as they had already discovered, the fire between them was way too hot to even play around with that sometimes. So they were doing their best to limit the number of times any matches were ever struck.
But he and his mother had always maintained their relationship on a need-to-know basis. And this was one more thing he didn’t think his mother needed to know. She would only turn it against him as merely a calculated ploy for her to get him to marry her quickly. Another trick his mother had warned him about that he needed to look out for.
But Gabrielle was worth the wait. Even if this was only a ploy, and he didn’t question her spiritual commitment and sincerity, Gabrielle Mercedes was absolutely worth the wait.
Chapter 12
The heads thereof judge for reward, and the priests thereof teach for hire, and the prophets thereof divine for money: yet will they lean upon the Lord, and say, Is not the Lord among us? none evil can come upon us.
—Micah 3:11
Reverend Walker smiled as Raquel Winston walked over to his table. He quickly stood to his feet.
“Thank you, Raquel, so much for coming, especially on such short notice.” Reverend Walker leaned down and gave the thirty-year-old bombshell beauty a quick and respectable peck on the cheek.
“Better be careful, Reverend. You, of all people, know how folks talk,” Raquel said. She looked around the restaurant and smiled at a few gawking men. She was used to the staring—stares followed her wherever she went. She didn’t even fight it anymore. “So what’s up?” she said as she sat down and Reverend Walker pushed her seat in for her.
He sat down across from her. “Would you care for anything to drink?”
“I would, but since it’s lunchtime, and I’m still on duty, I suppose I must pass.” She picked up the glass of water on the table and took a sip. “I suppose I’ll just have to settle for tea.”
“Then maybe you should have accepted my dinner invitation instead of insisting on meeting for lunch,” Reverend Walker said.
“Oh, no.” She shook her head and frowned as she scanned the menu. “Been there, done that. We both know how that all went. Lunch works fine. I’m on the clock, so if you’re going to tell me what this is all about, now would be a good time.”
Reverend Walker smiled, and then licked and popped his lips. “Sure. And since this is technically work related—” Just then the waiter came and interrupted them to take their orders. Reverend Walker and Raquel were regulars, so they ended up ordering their usual items.
“Now, where were we?” Reverend Walker said, after the waiter left. He scanned Raquel from her head down to where the table stopped him from going any farther.
“Excuse me. I thought you said this was work related.”
He smiled as he stared into her naturally green eyes, then shook his head as though to clear it, and continued. “Pastor George Landris—”
“Not him again,” Raquel said, now drumming the fingers of her right hand on the table.
“Yes, him, again. You really need to check into the goings-on over there at that church. I’m telling you, there are some shady things happening at Followers of Jesus Faith Worship Center. And the IRS really needs to investigate them and Pastor Landris.”
Raquel sat back against her chair. “So are you registering a formal complaint?”
“I am.”
“Well, then we need to fill out the appropriate paperwork. You’re more than welcome to come to my office—”
“I don’t want my name associated with this.”
She shrugged. “If you believe something is going on over there, then why wouldn’t you want to do the right thing and report it . . . put your name on record?”
“Because he and I are supposed to be brothers in the Lord, that’s why. Although I’m not so sure we have the same Father. I’m serving the Lord, the Father of Light. I believe his father may very well be the father of deception,” Reverend Walker said.
“That’s a pretty strong accusation there, Reverend. I’ve never known you to be scared to speak your mind.” Raquel stopped talking as the waiter brought a large bowl and placed it in front of her, and then served Reverend Walker’s plate.
After the waiter left, Reverend Walker bowed his head and said a quick prayer. Raquel merely watched him as he did it.
Reverend Walker looked at her as he began to eat the slaw he’d received along with his fried snapper and pilaf rice. “If I wasn’t sure you’d fi
nd something there, I wouldn’t have come to you. Look, write up the complaint. List it as anonymous. I know you can do that. Check him out, and if everything checks out, no harm, no foul. If it doesn’t, you could end up famous as the woman who cleaned up religious corruption.”
Raquel smiled and shook her head as she ate some of her onion soup. “Wow, what a sales pitch. You must really hate this guy. What did he ever do to you?”
“It’s not about me. It’s about the Kingdom of God. And I’m tired of preachers thinking they’re above the law.” He cut a piece of his fish and ate it. “Clergy twisting rules and regulations to accomplish personal needs and desires. People are flocking over to that church like sugar ants to syrup. You’ll be doing the Christian community a great service. It’s not like the IRS doesn’t randomly audit. And should you get a tip—”
“A credible tip,” Raquel said, correcting him.
“Should you receive a credible tip, then it’s your job to investigate it. If he has nothing to hide or has done nothing wrong, then he’ll be vindicated and at least people can feel secure about their giving to him and that church.”
“It sounds to me like you might be a bit envious.” Raquel took a sip of her tea. “Maybe the green-eyed monster has found its way to good old Marshall Walker.” She smirked.
“Listen, green eyes, this could be your big break. You go back to the office, put in a report or whatever you do to get things rolling. Pastor George Landris is nothing to play with. If you find out he’s not on the up-and-up, everybody will be praising your name.”
“I don’t need praise. In case you haven’t noticed, I get it walking down a street or into a room.” She turned and flashed a smile at a man sitting nearby who was about to fall out of his chair trying to look at her. “Well,” she said, finishing her meal. To maintain her ideal weight of 115 pounds, she rarely ate more than soup or salad for lunch. “I’ll see what I can do. But if I see there’s no merit to this, I’m dropping it.”
“Fair enough. And frankly, it’s what I would not only expect but want you to do. I’m not trying to go after this guy. I’ve just heard so much, especially recently, and I think someone needs to investigate him and put the rumors to bed one way or the other.”
Finished eating, they left together. Raquel walked past a waiter holding up a plate of spaghetti. Gawking at her, the waiter dropped the plate into a customer’s lap.
“Why don’t you watch what you’re doing!” the customer, who now wore the spaghetti, yelled at the waiter as the waiter profusely apologized while trying to help clean up.
Raquel looked at Reverend Walker and laughed as she stepped outside and waited on the valet to retrieve her car.
Chapter 13
This poor man cried, and the Lord heard him, and saved him out of all his troubles.
—Psalm 34:6
“Daddy.” Zenobia leaned down and kissed her father when she raced into his room at the nursing home. “What’s wrong?”
Gramps continued to wipe his eyes with his handkerchief. “I can’t tell you. Not now, not here. Can we go somewhere more private? Can we go to your house?”
“But I need to know what’s going on. Did something happen here? Did one of the nurses do something to you? One of the doctors? Did something happen with one of the other residents? What has gotten you so upset?”
Gramps put his black square-rimmed glasses back on. “I don’t know quite how to tell you. I thought I could go through with this at first, but I don’t know.” He shook his head.
“Go through with what, Gramps?” Knowledge asked.
Gramps looked from Zenobia to Knowledge. “Where’s Clarence? I asked all of y’all to come. Where’s Clarence?”
“He’s on his way,” Zenobia said. “But you need to tell me what’s going on. If you don’t, and you continue to be so upset, I’m going to go talk to the nurses and find out from one of them what’s going on. And somebody’s going to tell me something!”
“The truth, that’s what’s going on,” Gramps said. “The truth is about to come to light. It always does. I don’t care how long it takes, just like a moth to a flame, the truth will always find its way to the light.”
“What truth, Daddy?”
“Let’s just wait ’til Clarence gets here, and then I’ll tell you.”
Knowledge looked at his watch. “He should have been here by now.” He took out his cell phone and tried calling Clarence. His call went straight to voice mail.
Zenobia took her father’s hand and held it as she sat down next to him on his bed. Clarence came rushing in fifteen minutes later.
“It’s about time,” Knowledge said, not hiding his annoyance. “Where were you? I tried to call you on your cell phone but it went straight to your voice mail.”
“I was on my way to Bible study when Mom called and said it was an emergency. I turned around and came right over. I suppose when you called, I must have been in a dead spot because I haven’t been on the phone,” Clarence said. “So, what’s the emergency? Gramps, are you all right?”
“I’m fine. I just need to tell y’all something. But I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to do it here. It’s going to take a little spell to tell it, and I don’t want to do it here.”
“Okay, Daddy. We’ll go to my house. You can tell us there.”
“I don’t mean to be so much trouble, but things are about to change, and y’all need to know what’s about to come down the pipe.” Gramps stood and grabbed his hat.
“I’ll go sign Gramps out,” Knowledge said, opening the door and walking out. He met them at the front door with a signed paper in hand. “I told them I wasn’t sure he would be back tonight . . . just in case.”
When they reached Zenobia’s house, Gramps was a bit more settled. They were all in the great room. Gramps sat in the wingback chair while everyone else sat, lined up on the couch, facing him.
“Okay, Gramps, what’s up?” Clarence said after no one else said anything.
“I was born November 4, 1909, in Asheville, North Carolina.”
“Yes, Daddy, we already know that,” Zenobia said. Then feeling she might have been a bit harsh, she softened it with, “Remember?” She now wore a worried look.
“Zenobia, please . . . just let me talk, all right,” Gramps said. “In the past, you children, specifically you, have asked me about my earlier life—”
“And you’ve always avoided talking about it with any of us,” Zenobia said. “You said there was nothing much worth telling.”
“Well, it’s time I share some things with you. I didn’t have a heap, material-wise, growing up. There were times when I felt like I didn’t quite fit in. My folks liked working the land; I preferred working with wood and my hands. But my ma gave me love, and my pa worked his fingers to the bone as a sharecropper, trying to make sure there was enough on the table to eat. It was a hard life, but we colored folks were used to it.”
“It’s African-American now, Gramps,” Knowledge said. “The proper term is African-American. We don’t call ourselves colored, Negro, Afro-American, black, or any of those other terms anymore.”
Gramps cut him a sharp look, then continued to speak. “I met a woman named Sarah Fleming. She and her family were very well-off. They lived in this big fancy home. Mister Fleming hired me to do some woodwork around his house. When I saw Sarah, his lovely eighteen-year-old daughter, we hit it off right away. It was love at first sight.”
“Black folks with that kind of money? That must have been inspiring,” Zenobia said. Knowledge looked at his mother and shook his head, opting not to bother correcting her. She’d already told him she was born black and she would die black, even if her birth certificate did say Colored.
“They weren’t colored . . . umm, black . . . African-American,” Gramps said, “whatever y’all want to call it. They were white folk.”
“You fell in love with a white woman?” Clarence said, joining in.
“We fell in love with each other. It was a mutual
thing.”
“Well, I can just about tell you where this story is heading,” Knowledge said. “A white woman and an African-American man during that time, it’s amazing they didn’t string you up or shoot you right out.”
“Came close enough,” Gramps said. “Sarah and I were planning to be married. Her father acted all right with it when Sarah told him. But he wasn’t; didn’t think races should mix. Which weren’t nothing but the pot calling the kettle black, since he was in love with Mamie Patterson—a dark-skinned woman just like me. Everybody knew Mister V, Victor Fleming Senior, had his nose wide open for Mamie. Yet, there he was trying to ‘reason’ with me to not pursue anything with his daughter. Said he wasn’t the one with the color problem, but that society wasn’t near ’bout there yet. He didn’t want nothing to happen to his Sarah just ’cause she might happen to be with me.” Gramps nodded as though someone had asked him a question. “Could somebody get me a drank of water?”
Zenobia jumped up and quickly went and came back. “Here you go, Daddy.”
He took several sips before setting the glass on the table next to him. He continued. “Well, Sarah was a little spitfire of a woman, and she weren’t about to let anybody keep her from what she was bent on doing. And she was dead set on being with me. We started sneaking around after that. I ended up being her first. After Mister V learned we were still seeing each other and weren’t planning on abandoning our love affair, her father started acting like he was warming up a bit toward me, like he was okay with us.”
“Yeah, I bet he did,” Knowledge said.
Zenobia cut her eyes at her eldest son. “Knowledge, will you just let Daddy talk.”
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