Mercy, Mercy Me

by Ronn Elmore

  Across town, Dwayne sat on the bed, his legs stretched forward. The latest issue of a trade magazine lay on his lap, but nothing could hold his attention. It had been that way since he’d left the restaurant and returned to the recording studio. After several unfocused attempts, the technician agreed to reschedule. Dwayne decided to go home, and for the first time in months, he entered the apartment while the sun was still shining.

  For the rest of the afternoon, he’d fidgeted about—scanning a magazine, straightening his clothes, turning on the TV—but nothing could take his mind off Nina. Several times he picked up the phone, then returned the receiver to its place. But as the hours passed, he was still confounded.

  The ringing phone startled him.

  “Dwayne, this is Nina.”

  Relief filled his sigh.

  “I wanted to apologize for this afternoon,” she said quickly. “There’s a lot going on with me right now.”

  She stopped and he waited for her to continue, to give him more. But when she said nothing, he prompted, “Are you all right, Nina?”

  “I’m fine now, Dwayne.” She paused. “I’m just worried about you and what this does to us… I mean… our working relationship.”

  “We’re fine, Nina. As long as I know you’re okay, we can move forward as if this never happened.”

  “Thank you for understanding,” she said, offering no more, though she wished with all her heart that she could explain and wanted Dwayne to press for more. But when neither said anything, she broke the silence with “I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

  “Yes. Have a good evening, Nina.” He hung up. For several minutes, he stayed still, wondering what had not been said.

  Nina let the phone drop into the cradle and slumped back onto the bed. At least, Dwayne hadn’t made it difficult, asking her to explain. What would she have said anyway? She looked at the papers on her lap. Maybe if he had asked just one question, she would have told him about the cancer. But that would be selfish, sentencing him to the same day-to-day uncertainty that tortured her.

  Half the time, she didn’t know how to feel, though the test results had been encouraging—the cancer had not come back. She had a lot to be thankful for, even though the only real good news would be the doctor telling her that the breast cancer was gone from her body forever.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  As L.W. sat in his office awaiting news from Kim, he grew more and more impatient. L.W. needed the information to plan his next move. For the last month, he had listened to his niece constantly sing the praises of Dwayne Grandison.

  “Uncle Linson, can you believe the success of Higher Ground? And the income we’re pulling in with his tape ministry? Getting Dwayne to join the team was the best decision we ever made,” Beverlyn boasted. “Thank you for thinking of him, Uncle Linson.”

  L.W. had said nothing and grunted even now as he recounted the conversation and the developing relationship that drew Beverlyn and Dwayne closer. There were very few times his niece was alone when Dwayne was in the building and even fewer times when she was free to join him in the evenings.

  “Mr. Lejohn.”

  L.W. looked up, then followed Kim with his eyes as she entered his office and took a seat.

  “You’re late.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m sure this information is just what you were looking for.”

  Without another word, he snatched the envelope from Kim’s outstretched hand. He opened the package and slowly read the first page of the report. His eyes moved from the paper to Kim, then back to the paper. He read the words again. Then he sifted through the pictures. Finally, he stuffed the materials back into the envelope.

  “Kim, this is great,” L.W. said, rubbing his hand over the envelope as if it were fine silk, then reopening it and once again reviewing the one-page report. The words were already committed to his memory, but he read them again, unable to believe the contents. This is sweet, he thought, smiling as he put the papers back into place. This is oh so sweet.

  In the back of her mind, Kim knew that the information she’d given L.W. was dynamite. She also knew that dynamite could sometimes backfire. But there was no use in warning L.W. She would lose her job if he viewed her as a threat. She already knew too much.

  “Look at these numbers,” Beverlyn exclaimed as she marched into Dwayne’s office.

  “More Nielsen’s?”

  “No, these are from the sales department.” She looked up. “Your video sales are phenomenal. They’re moving almost as fast as the tapes.”

  Dwayne hit the power button on his laptop and closed the computer. No matter how often Beverlyn talked to him about numbers, he couldn’t get into it. And Beverlyn’s driving ambition hadn’t prepared him for the way his life was changing.

  Beverlyn, on the other hand, thrived on success, obsessed with the finer things in life. For some of her fans, it was difficult to reconcile her music and ministry with her lifestyle. Though her ministry stressed empowerment, its strength lay in her ability to get to the heart of people’s fears, insecurities, and hurts. Her uniqueness was that she was honest enough to let them see hers. It was that current of hope that was interwoven into her songs and ministry—that faith in the human spirit’s ability to transcend such stuff. But while that conviction was the key to her image, a close look at Beverlyn revealed a woman driven to finding the one missing piece that would bring fulfillment after many lonely years on the ministry fast track.

  “You know what I think, Dr. Grandison?” Beverlyn said, interrupting his thoughts. “It’s time for another book.”

  “Like I really have time for that.”

  “Come on, Dwayne. We have to strike while the iron is hot. I’ve already spoken to my agent and he agrees that we could get quite an advance.”

  “Beverlyn, the television show is enough for me.”

  “But not for the Jubilee Network. Dwayne, all of this is tied together. A book would help. We can introduce you to people who’ve never seen the show. And that would mean even higher ratings.”

  This wasn’t what he had signed up for. He’d agreed to the tapes and the sale of the show’s videotapes, but a book was out of the question. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Beverlyn. “No. There just isn’t time.”

  “I know a way that we can make more time.”

  “What are you thinking? Asking God to add more hours to my day?”

  She laughed. “Nothing that drastic. I was thinking about a driver.”

  He frowned.

  “Like I have. You would not believe the amount of work I get done as I’m going from home to work or meeting to meeting.”

  “I don’t want a driver.”

  “I’m not talking about what you want, Dwayne, I’m talking about what you need. Think about it. How many hours do you spend in your car?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. A couple, but still …”

  “Do you know how much work you could get done? Just the book alone—you could dictate chapters and then have them transcribed. The book could be finished in less than a month.”

  His silence told her that he wasn’t convinced.

  “Dwayne, think about the show.”

  He nodded slightly. From the beginning, he’d made a commitment to do all that he could to make Higher Ground a success. And though he didn’t know whether tapes or books added to the success, Beverlyn said they did. And she knew this business. The numbers proved it. So did the bonuses he’d received each month.

  Beverlyn continued, “And another thing, Dwayne. You have to start seeing this the way God sees it. He’s not pouring these blessings onto you for no reason. You’re doing His work. He wants you to be a success. Having a driver is all part of it. It’s who you are now. It’s who God wants you to be.”

  “Beverlyn, God doesn’t care about my having a driver.” Dwayne blinked in confusion, realizing it was all the same to her.

  “Not about a driver per se, but God does care about your success.” She paused. “
Trust me, Dwayne.”

  Finally, he said, “I’ll think about it.”

  Her smile widened. “Good.” She walked toward him. “That’s all I can ask.” Her steps brought her so close there was barely air between them.

  “Trust me, Dwayne. Everything I do, I do for you,” she said huskily.

  He wondered if he closed his eyes and then opened them, would Yvette be standing in Beverlyn’s place?

  It didn’t seem possible, but Beverlyn moved even closer. “You believe me, don’t you?” she asked softly. Only the ticking of the clock could be heard as they waited to see where the next moments took them.

  Dwayne coughed and turned away. “Have you eaten yet? Maybe we should go out …”

  Beverlyn backed up. “That would be nice.” She stared at him for a moment before she walked to the door. “Give me five minutes.”

  He nodded and watched her leave. It wasn’t until she closed the door behind her that Dwayne finally breathed.

  Dwayne glanced at Beverlyn without turning his head. She was silent but smiling, intently watching the shops they passed on Wilshire Boulevard.

  He returned his eyes to the road and smiled. Beverlyn had been this way through most of their dinner. Though she chatted some, she’d shown a side he’d never seen. She had remained uncharacteristically pensive throughout dinner, never mentioning her crusades, gospel music, Beverlyn Boudreaux Ministries; and even talk of Higher Ground never crossed her lips. Now, as he stopped in front of her house and turned off the ignition, she remained silent.

  “I had a nice time tonight, Dwayne.”

  “I’m glad, because for a while there I wondered if you were okay. You seemed… different.”

  She dropped her eyes coquettishly. “What do you mean?”

  “You didn’t mention a word about the show or the videotapes or the book. You didn’t even badger me about a driver.”

  “Is that what I do?” Her smile vanished with the thought. “I just want what’s best for you.”

  He stared at her for a long moment. “I know.”

  Then without saying a word, he walked around to the passenger side, opened her door, and helped her from the car. She opened the gate and they strolled up the winding driveway, with only the sound of their heels clicking against the concrete, echoing in the nighttime silence.

  “Missing New Orleans?”

  Beverlyn stopped as they neared her front door. “I haven’t had time to think about it, but there are things I miss, like the food. But mostly, it’s strange not being in the place you’ve called home.”

  She lowered herself onto the front steps of her two-million-dollar estate as Dwayne leaned against one of the giant pillars.

  “You’re not too cold out here, are you?” Dwayne asked. “I didn’t mean to keep you out in this night air.” (Nor did Dwayne want to go in and encounter L.W., who for all he knew may have been just on the other side of the door.)

  “No, I’m fine. I’d like to sit here and talk for a while, if that’s all right with you.”

  Almost mechanically, Dwayne sat next to her, their shoulders nearly touching.

  “If we were in New Orleans, there’d be a swing on the porch and we’d be swinging.”

  “Did you have a swing on your porch when you were growing up?”

  “You haven’t been paying attention to the vignette that’s been running on Jubilee.”

  “I’ve wanted to ask you about it, but—”

  “You’re too much of a gentleman?”

  “That, and I didn’t want to play doctor.”

  She looked at the ground, all traces of her smile now gone. “Well, that three-minute commercial says just about everything. My mother died before I was one. The really sad thing is I don’t even remember her. I was raised—”

  “In a foster home?”

  “I wish,” she said softly. “An orphanage with people who didn’t care, so I ran wild. I always knew what I was doing was wrong. And even before I knew God, I made promises to Him that I would make up for those times. I was only seven when I made my first promise.”

  “Looks like you kept it,” he said simply.

  “I did and L.W. was a big part of that.”

  Dwayne lost his professional stance at the mention of L.W.

  “L.W.?”

  “My uncle has been the most important person in my life. He saved me physically and spiritually. He brought me to the Lord. When I was nine years old, he took me off the streets and cleaned me up. Then he opened up a church.”

  “L.W. was a pastor?” Dwayne asked, all decorum gone.

  “Yeah, we struggled for a time. Then my uncle heard me sing and sacrificed everything so I could pursue a life in gospel music. I started singing locally. He got me a contract, and the rest… Well, let’s just say, I would be nothing without my uncle.”

  Bells went off in Dwayne’s head, but he said nothing.

  “You have much to be proud of,” he said gently and sincerely. “You’re an example of what can be overcome. You give so much hope to others.”

  “That’s what I want. For people to know that what God did for me He can do for them.”

  They said nothing for several moments. She looked at him, and in the soft light that illuminated the entrance, he could see her eyes glazed with tears. “Are you ever afraid of being alone, Dwayne?”

  Odd question coming from Beverlyn—so driven and headstrong and yet, at times like these, so vulnerable.

  He answered by taking her hand. She inched closer to him, leaving only a small degree of air between them. A second later, they both leaned forward, allowing their lips to touch. Then Dwayne put his arm around Beverlyn, pulling her closer.

  “It’s time for me to go inside. Do you want to come in?” she asked softly.

  He stared into her eyes, then brought his lips to hers again, this time kissing her gently. He stood and pulled her to her feet.

  “Good night, Ms. Boudreaux.” Without another word, he turned away and began to walk to the front gate. After a few steps, he looked over his shoulder. Beverlyn was gone.

  As he started his car, his thoughts were a blur of images of Nina and Beverlyn. He’d been sure about Nina, but maybe he’d been wrong. This moment felt very natural, and so had Beverlyn.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Dwayne pulled into the parking lot and searched for Nina’s car. There was no sign of the Camry. He parked and walked quickly into the church. He checked Nina’s office. The top of her desk was cleared, void of the papers and folders that usually covered it when she worked. It looked as if she hadn’t been in the office all day.

  Well, he couldn’t worry about Nina right now. The session began in an hour, and he had to direct all of his attention to the young men. He laid his briefcase on the conference table. Still, he was concerned. Was Nina still upset with what had happened? The door opened and he turned. Nina was standing there, her hand on the knob as if she hadn’t decided whether to come in.

  “Hi,” she said simply.

  “Hi, I was just—”

  “Hi, Mr. Dwayne.” Omari sprang from behind his mother.

  Dwayne’s smile was instant. “Hey, my man, what are you doing here?”

  “I’ve been hanging out with Mom all day long.”

  Dwayne looked up at Nina. “You were out of school?”

  “Uh-huh. A teacher conference.”

  “Omari, could you do me a big favor?” Nina leaned over her son. “I have a package for Pastor Lafayette. Can you take this into his office? Besides, he told me to bring you by, so I know that he wants to see you.”

  “Okay, Mom.”

  Nina waited until Omari was across the sanctuary before she closed the door and turned to Dwayne. “I thought I would bring in the heavy artillery.” She took a deep breath. “I figured you couldn’t be too mad at me when you remembered I was his mother.”

  Dwayne laughed and Nina followed.

  “I’m not mad, Nina. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
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br />   “I’m fine.”

  “And I wanted to make sure that I didn’t offend you in any way.”

  “Oh, no,” she said, shaking her head. “That wasn’t it at all.” She sat down.

  He sat in front of her desk and waited.

  A moment or two passed before she spoke.

  “For many reasons, this is not a good time for me to… get involved with anyone. But if it were a good time, you would have been the one.”

  “At least I know it wasn’t my breath or anything like that.”

  She laughed. “Hardly.”

  “So we’re friends?”

  “You better believe it. As long as you don’t go getting the big head or something.”

  As Dwayne pulled into the valet section of the Sunset Room, he wondered, once again, what he was doing here. And as he had done on the drive over, he remembered the call he’d received this morning. “Dr. Grandison, Ms. Boudreaux has changed the location of the production meeting. We’re meeting at the Sunset Room in Hollywood. Do you need directions?”

  “Are you sure?” he asked, doubting that his assistant, Tori, had the right information. She was new, another idea from Beverlyn to make his life easier. And though he had at first protested, Tori had become an asset, freeing him from all the administrative work associated with Higher Ground. However, Dwayne was sure Tori had made a mistake. He didn’t know that the trendy celebrity hangout even opened before noon.

  But even at 10:30 A.M., the restaurant was half-filled, although that was nothing compared to the madhouse this popular celebrity eatery would become in an hour or so, he thought. A hostess stood behind a gold and glass stand. She looked up as Dwayne approached.

  “Hello,” Dwayne said tentatively. “I’m Dr. Grandison. I’m supposed to be here for a meeting?” Doubt had turned his statement into a question.

  She flipped her long blond hair over her shoulder. “Yes, Dr. Grandison. Follow me.”

  She led him through the maze of tables to a darkened patio area. At the end of the long hallway, the hostess opened a door, but when they stepped inside, she still had not turned on the lights.