The Pastor's Woman

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The Pastor's Woman Page 6

by Jacquelin Thomas

They sat down at one of the tables near the door, and D’marcus struck up a conversation with Wade while Opal and Amber sat on both sides of Pearl, wearing silly grins on their faces.

  Wade’s eyes landed on Pearl. His gaze was so penetrating, it sent a tremor through her body. She took a sip of her mocha latte.

  “Did Pearl tell you that she’s shopping her demo to record companies?” Amber blurted.

  “No,” Wade responded. “I had no idea. What type of music is it?”

  “Gospel,” Pearl replied. “Music is my ministry, Pastor.”

  “Is it traditional gospel music or that other stuff that’s going around?”

  Pearl sat up in her chair. Leaning forward, she asked, “What exactly do you mean by the ‘other stuff that’s going around’? Do you mean contemporary gospel music?”

  Opal silently implored her to just let it go.

  “Some of that stuff is not gospel music, you know that. Just because you throw God up in it doesn’t make it gospel.”

  “I totally disagree with you,” Pearl stated. “I don’t think you should make a judgment call like that. You don’t know the heart that’s behind the song.”

  “Why don’t we change the subject?” Opal suggested.

  Pearl ignored her. “Look, Pastor Kendrick, just because you’re old-fashioned doesn’t mean everybody else has to live that way. I like the contemporary music and I like some of the more traditional songs, too.”

  “I’m not saying all contemporary music is bad. In fact, I’m not saying any of it is bad, per se. I just think that people have to make a choice. You’re either going to sing to glorify the Lord or sing for people.”

  “You’re saying that you can’t do both, then?”

  Wade met her gaze straight on. “It’s called straddling the fence. You can’t serve God and man both.”

  Pearl settled back in her chair. “Opal’s right. We should talk about something else.”

  Whatever had made her wonder if Wade Kendrick could be Mr. Right? He was nothing but a jerk.

  Chapter 6

  Pearl Lockhart had never met an opinion she could keep to herself.

  Wade left shortly after their little debate because he didn’t want to make the others any more uncomfortable than they already were.

  At home he slipped into a pair of pajamas and went through his nightly ritual. After relaxing in the living room for an hour he headed off to the bathroom. Reaching into the medicine cabinet, he pulled out a small bottle of pills and removed the white cap.

  I need to get off this medication, he thought to himself.

  He stared at the tiny white pill in the palm of his hand. He’d been taking one of them every night for the past ten years. He’d been diagnosed with chronic insomnia not too long after Jeff’s death, but Wade knew it ran much deeper than that. This sleep aid kept his dreams from haunting him.

  They weren’t bad dreams or nightmares, but Wade didn’t want to dream. Even in sleep, he couldn’t face his father or his brother. He was too ashamed, too guilty.

  Wade waited until he was sitting up in bed before he swallowed the pill. following it up with a glass of water. He picked up the novel he’d been reading. He would read until the tiny pill induced him to a full seven hours of dreamless sleep.

  Two pages later, Wade began to feel the effects of the pill. He laid the book on the nightstand, settled down in bed and closed his eyes.

  When he opened them again, it was almost 6:30 a.m.

  Wade jumped out of bed to spend quality time with God. He prayed before reading several Bible passages.

  After he showered, his stomach growled, signaling that it was time for breakfast. The bowl of cereal he ate after dressing didn’t satisfy his hunger. It was times like this that he wished for a wife—one who could really throw down when it came to cooking.

  Wade got to Lakeview Baptist Church at nine-thirty. He liked to be in his office no later than ten o’clock and always tried to leave around the same time each evening unless there was something special going on.

  Though he had a great support staff, Wade had always been a “hands on” person, so he was around a lot more than it was assumed he would be. That was one of the complaints about the last pastor. He only worked one or two days a week and was never around when members wanted to meet with him.

  Wade walked briskly through the doors of the administration building. Barbara had a cup of steaming coffee waiting for him.

  “Good morning, Pastor,” she greeted with a smile.

  “Barbara, good morning. Thank you for the coffee.”

  “I made it just the way you like it. Two sugars and two teaspoons of French vanilla cream.”

  “I appreciate it.” Wade headed to his office. “What time is Phyllis coming in?” he asked, referring to the bookkeeper.

  “She called and said she’ll be here around eleven. She had to go to her son’s school for a conference.”

  Wade nodded. “Would you let her know that I need to speak with her?”

  “Of course, Pastor. As soon as she gets here.”

  “Thank you.” Wade headed down the hall to his corner office.

  The first thing he did was check his e-mail. He’d been invited to speak at a church in Los Angeles in January and was checking to see if he’d received the confirmation.

  An image of Pearl unexpectedly appeared in his mind, distracting him.

  Wade shook his head as if trying to shake her from his thoughts. He put a hand to his mouth, disconcerted.

  He tried to regain his focus. Pearl was a distraction he could not afford but he couldn’t escape the vision of the way she looked when he last saw her. Her hair, flowing free from chemicals and straightening combs, hung around her face, which had no makeup hiding her smooth complexion. She had worn a Detroit Chargers jersey over a pair of jeans that didn’t take away from her femininity.

  This is crazy. I can’t start thinking about Pearl Lockhart like this.

  Wade pushed away from his desk and went to the door. “Barbara, could you come here, please?”

  His secretary yelled back, “I’ll be right there.”

  Wade walked back over to his desk and sat down.

  Barbara rushed in. “Sorry about that, Pastor. I was making an appointment for Iris Harrell’s daughter. She’s engaged and wants you to perform the ceremony.”

  “Did she sign up for the premarriage counseling sessions?”

  “No. She just wants you to marry them.”

  His gaze met Barbara’s. “Anyone wishing to get married here at Lakeview Baptist must attend the premarriage counseling sessions.”

  “They’ve been members of this church a long time, Pastor.”

  “I’m aware of that,” Wade responded. “But the sessions are mandatory. They will enable engaged couples to enter marriage with greater understanding and certainty, which in turn will promote stability in their marriage.”

  She gave a stiff nod. “What did you need, Pastor?”

  “I just wanted to know if the new member certificates were in. We need to have them ready this Sunday.”

  “They came in yesterday,” Barbara responded. “I’ll work on them this afternoon.”

  “If Sister Iris or her daughter has a problem with what I’ve said, I’d be more than happy to meet with them.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be seeing them,” she huffed.

  Wade bit back a smile. “That will be all, Barbara.”

  She left the room, leaving him to ponder why it seemed he was on the road to making a lot of enemies within the congregation. Wade was only trying to take Lakeview Baptist Church to the next level.

  When Wade answered the call to preach, he promised God that he would follow the laws of the Bible and that any church that he accepted leadership over would do the same.

  God would hold him accountable for his actions. This time he vowed not to treat his responsibility lightly.

  Pearl switched her cellular phone to her other ear. “Ruby, when are you making the swee
t potato pies?” she asked while strolling down the vegetable aisle in the grocery store. “I can pick up the stuff now. I’m in the store.”

  “I have most of what I need,” her sister responded. “I’ll be doing my shopping this weekend. Hey, can you make the macaroni and cheese?”

  Pearl eyed the fresh broccoli for a moment before moving on. “Ruby, the last time I made the macaroni and cheese it turned out horribly. Too much of one thing and not enough of the other. Tell Opal to make it. She makes great mac and cheese.”

  “So what are you going to make?” Ruby inquired.

  “I’m going to make the green-bean casserole and the lemon pound cake I make every year. Paige is making her famous red-velvet cake.” After a brief pause she added, “Thanksgiving is ten days away. We still have a lot of time. Stop worrying. We do this every year and it always comes out just right.”

  Pearl ended her phone call so that she could concentrate on her shopping.

  Six plastic bags later, she pushed her shopping cart out of the store.

  Amber and Paige were in the living room talking when Pearl arrived home.

  “Need some help?” her sister offered.

  “This is all of it,” Pearl responded. She removed the bags from the folding grocery cart then went in to hug Amber. “I didn’t know you were coming over. I figured you had enough of us last night at the game.”

  “I was driving by and before I knew it, I was parking the car in front of your building.”

  Pearl embraced her cousin. “Hey, roomie.”

  “Hey, girl.”

  Amber and Paige helped Pearl put away the groceries.

  “How long is that gorgeous Dashuan Kennedy going to be on suspension?” Amber asked. “That man needs to be in the game, not sitting on the bench.”

  “Why?” Pearl questioned. “He’s nothing but trouble, Amber. Just talk to D’marcus if you don’t believe me. He’ll tell you the same thing.”

  “Pearl’s right,” Paige interjected. “Lyman told me that Dashuan is a womanizer and that he’s running around with Kelvin Landy. You know, they say that Kelvin hangs with some rough people.”

  “That’s just a rumor,” Amber argued. “The only thing we really know about Kelvin is that he’s a physical therapist. He’s been working with Dashuan since he hurt his knee. Kelvin works with the Chargers. If he was so bad, why wouldn’t D’marcus or the other owners get rid of him?”

  Pearl eyed her sister. “How do you know so much about Dashuan and Kelvin? You’ve never met either one as far as I know.”

  “D’marcus owns the Chargers—did you forget? I’ve been doing some research.”

  “Amber, don’t even waste your time. Dashuan is not your type. He’s trouble.” Pearl put away the last item in the refrigerator. “You can do a whole lot better than him.”

  She could tell by the way Amber stood with her arms folded across her chest, rolling her eyes, that her sister wasn’t listening. Amber was twenty-one and didn’t want any of her siblings trying to tell her how to live her life. At times Pearl felt the same way so she backed off. “You’re smart. I know you’ll make the right decision.”

  Amber gave her a grateful smile.

  “Colleen and I went shopping yesterday,” Amber said when they’d settled down in the living room. “You should see the leather dress she bought. It’s sexy.”

  Paige sat up. “My sister actually bought a leather dress?”

  Laughing, Amber nodded. “I have to admit that I talked her into it. You have to see it. It looks great on Colleen.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Pearl stated. “Colleen has a nice body.” She paused a moment before adding, “I’m so glad Opal changed her style. I love her new makeover. She looks so much younger.”

  “It’s not that makeover that’s got her glowing. It’s that man. D’marcus Armstrong is why she’s walking around with her head in the heavens.” Paige grinned, running her fingers through her braids. “I know because Lyman’s got me doing the same thing.”

  “Oh, stop bragging,” Pearl complained. “Amber and I don’t need to be reminded of how single we are.”

  The women laughed.

  Amber stayed at the apartment with them until 10:00 p.m. Yawning, she stood up and said, “I need to get home.” She fingered her long, honey-blond curls. “Give me a call tomorrow, Pearl. Let’s try to meet up for lunch or for some shopping.”

  “I’m working the lunch shift but I’ll be off around four.”

  Amber strolled over to the front door. “Better yet, let’s meet at Image Nails.” Her mouth thinned with displeasure. “You need to get your eyebrows waxed.”

  “I love you, too,” Pearl responded. “Call us when you get home.”

  “I will,” she said. Amber opened the door and walked out.

  “Amber wants Lyman to introduce her to Dashuan,” Paige announced. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “Don’t do it,” Pearl stated with a shake of her head.

  “She’ll just ask Lyman herself. Or D’marcus.”

  “D’marcus is not going to introduce Amber to that jerk. He can barely stand the man himself. Plus, he’s not going to risk Opal getting mad at him.”

  “She’s such a beautiful girl,” Pearl said with a soft sigh. “I just wish she’d use the brains God gave her.”

  “She’s so man-crazy.”

  Pearl agreed. “Amber still needs to use wisdom. She thinks she knows everything but she just doesn’t know the half of it.”

  “Hmm…sounds like another girl I know. Miss ‘Wishing on a Star’ Lockhart.”

  Laughing, Pearl tossed a pillow at her cousin.

  Thursday evening, Pearl met with the youth for choir rehearsal. She sat at the piano playing softly as the teens filtered in. One of the girls approached her.

  “Miss Pearl, you rocking that outfit.”

  Grinning, she responded, “Girl, am I really rocking it?”

  “It’s tight. I like that. You was rocking that leather skirt, too.”

  Pearl didn’t even want to think back to the way she embarrassed herself. Eying the girl standing beside her, she said, “Veronica, you’re looking pretty sharp yourself. I’m gonna have to see if they make those jeans in my size.”

  “Miss Pearl, you not that much bigger than me,” Veronica responded with a laugh.

  More choir members arrived.

  Pearl stopped playing the piano and stood up. She made her way over to the front of the choir stand. “Hello, everybody,” she greeted. “Did you have a good day today?”

  There were a few nods and a couple of no’s.

  “C’mon now, I know something good happened to each of you today. What’s the first thing you should be thankful for?”

  “For waking up,” they said in unison.

  “If you woke up in your right mind and with your health, give God some praise.” Pearl began clapping her hands. “C’mon, give Him praise. We are to praise the Lord in good times and bad.”

  Applause filled the sanctuary.

  “Before we praise God in song, who would like to lead us in prayer?” Pearl inquired.

  Veronica volunteered.

  Pearl closed her eyes as Veronica began to pray.

  Afterwards, she said, “Has anyone talked to Tyson?”

  Tyson was thirteen years old and the son of one of her close friends. Pearl was a little worried about him since finding some drawings of gang symbols in his backpack.

  “I haven’t talked to him in a couple of days,” one of the boys responded.

  “Okay, well, let’s get started. Everybody stand up. The first thing we need to do is our warm-up exercises. Veronica, could you lead them, please?”

  Pearl went over to a young man sitting at the piano. She gave him the arrangements for the new song they were about to practice. “I made a few changes,” she whispered. Pointing, she added, “Right here.”

  As they sang Pearl kept checking over her shoulder just in case Tyson had slipped inside. It wasn’t
like him to miss practice.

  “Let’s go over it one more time,” Pearl said. “You did a wonderful job, but if we’re going to sing this song on the fourth Sunday, let’s rehearse it one more time. We’re not having choir rehearsal next Thursday because it’ll be Thanksgiving.”

  Loud groans from the teenagers were heard throughout the choir stand, sparking a chuckle from Pearl. “C’mon y’all. Don’t give me a hard time.”

  Pearl gestured for the pianist to start playing.

  The group went over the song once more. Pearl clapped when they finished. “Beautiful,” she complimented. “You guys did a wonderful job.”

  She had the choir run through one more song.

  Pearl had just called rehearsal to a close when a boy walked inside the sanctuary. She glanced over her shoulder saying, “Tyson, you’re late. Choir practice is pretty much over.”

  “I just came by to tell you that I’m not singing in the choir no more.”

  She turned around to face him. “Why not?”

  “It’s whack.”

  Pearl surveyed the teen’s face. “Does your mother know about your plans, Tyson?” Her friend, Yolanda, would have a fit if she knew her son was trying to leave the choir.

  “This is my life,” he stated. “I can do whatever I want. Can’t nobody make me stay if I don’t want to sing.”

  “I don’t believe your mother would agree. In fact, I think she’d have a problem with all of this.”

  He shrugged in nonchalance.

  “Do me a favor and hang around, Tyson. I’d like to talk to you.”

  “Miss Pearl…”

  “Don’t you go anywhere, Tyson,” she told him firmly. “I mean it. We need to talk.” Pearl turned her attention to a couple of teens who were waiting to speak with her.

  Out the corner of her eye, she noticed Wade standing in the side door. How long has he been there? she wondered.

  After the teens left, Pearl returned to Tyson. “Your mother and I are very worried about you. She told me you were failing some of your classes. Tyson, that’s not like you.”

  He didn’t respond, just dropped down on the front pew looking sullen.

  “Your mother loves you very much. So do I. Sweetie, I’ve known you since the day you were born. You’re like my own child.”

 

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