“Baby, it will be fine,” William assured. “Just trust God.”
“That’s your answer to everything!” Nikki snapped. “Just trust God. Well, I think sometimes God wants us to act as well. It’s not enough just to trust that miracles will rain down from the sky. We have to do our part.”
“Fine,” William said. “We’ll write the insurance company a letter or something. We’ll get them to change their minds. All of this will get taken care of. You’ll see.”
“Well, I just know my baby needs this surgery.”
“Okay, baby, we’ll talk about it later,” William said. “I need to go, now. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
William climbed from the car and saw a reporter walking toward him.
“Is it true that Reverend Chance has a gambling problem?” the reporter asked William, who laughed.
“Is that the best you guys can do over there?” William said, walking toward the office.
“You didn’t answer the question,” said Jimmy Vaughn, a short, balding reporter with ink-stained fingertips. He followed William into the tiny campaign office.
“No, he does not have a gambling problem.”
Jimmy helped himself to coffee, pouring a cup. The reporter called or stopped by the office at least twice a week it seemed, with some query about the mayoral candidate. William did his best to deflate rumors and to deflect anything that didn’t sound good. He believed in his candidate and wanted the city to see this was the right man for the job.
“Well, we have it from reliable sources that he has lost large sums at the boats,” Jimmy said. “I’m doing some more digging, so this is your chance to get your side out.”
“There is nothing to get out,” William said. “Reverend Chance does not have a gambling problem.”
“If you say so.”
Jimmy shoved his notebook into the back of his pants, with the top sticking out. He took the last swig of his coffee, plunked the cup onto the counter, and left.
A moment later, Reverend Chance walked through the door, a cell phone to his ear and another one ringing in his pocket. He hung up that call, sent the incoming one to voice mail and gave a general greeting to everyone in the office. “Good morning, saints!”
A chorus of hellos greeted him in turn from those in the office: his daughter, Olivia, who was also his campaign manager; a new male volunteer who William had seen only once before; and William. Reverend Chance shook William’s hand.
“How is it going, son?” Reverend Chance queried.
“Fine, Reverend,” William replied. “And yourself?”
“Oh, I’m on the battlefield for the Lord,” he said. “The devil will throw sticks, but the Lord keeps on breaking them.”
Reverend Chance clapped and let out a booming laugh. William recalled the first time he saw the man. Chance had been the speaker at a student government function, challenging each of the students to work for right and to reach for greatness. He had been so powerful, so moving that William had been an admirer ever since.
“So, what’s going on around here?” Reverend Chance asked. He was tall, well over six foot, nearly 300 pounds, with broad shoulders and wore neatly pressed suits that had to be tailored especially for his large frame.
“Well, the other side just released poll results showing we are behind by a significant margin.” William hated to break the news.
“Well, we’ve fought uphill before,” Reverend Chance said. “That just means we work that much harder to get our message out.”
“We can order our own poll. I talked to the company yesterday. They are ready to go, if we want,” William said.
“Yes, but we don’t have the money for that,” Reverend Chance said. “I think we’ll wait another week or two and run the poll then.”
“Well, we’ve got to know what the public is thinking,” said Olivia, joining the conversation. She was stocky, with freshly permed hair and wore a dark blue suit.
“I know, dear, but we’ll just trust the Lord for the next week or so and find out then,” Reverend Chance said.
“We can’t just leave this one to trusting the Lord,” Olivia shot back.
Reverend Chance raised a brow and his tone grew stern. “We don’t talk like that around here, Olivia.”
She insisted. “Daddy, the general election is only a few months away. And, that’s if we make it that far.”
“I know. But I feel good about this.”
William wasn’t so sure. Lo Dark’s signs easily outnumbered theirs and the media coverage seemed to favor the incumbent. There were a few other candidates running, but they didn’t bear much mentioning, as they weren’t doing much campaigning. William swallowed before breaking the latest news.
“Jimmy Vaughn from The Times just stopped by. I’m surprised you didn’t see him leaving on your way in,” William said. “They are trying to do a story about you and a gambling problem. I told them that was ridiculous, that you didn’t have any such issues, but the guy seemed pretty intent on running something anyway.”
“Okay, well, get them back on the phone.”
“Do what?” William’s eyes shot to Reverend Chance’s face.
“Set a meeting, this afternoon if you can,” Reverend Chance said.
“What do you mean, sir? We don’t have to entertain foolishness.”
“It’s not foolishness.”
William’s eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”
“I don’t mind talking about it,” Reverend Chance said.
“I did waste a lot of money on the boats in my younger years, maybe ten years ago. But that’s all behind me now. The Lord blessed me to overcome that.”
Olivia let out a snort. “That’s all we need, more bad stuff in the paper.”
“Well, we can just come clean to the voters,” Reverend Chance said. “Honesty—”
“Is overrated,” Olivia said flatly. She put her hand on her father’s arm. “Daddy, look. I understand that you want to be honest and tell folks about your past, but you and I both know you really don’t want to go there.”
Reverend Chance kissed Olivia’s cheek. “You worry too much,” he said.
“Well, somebody has to take control of things,” she said.
Reverend Chance glanced around the campaign office, then back at his daughter. “I do have control.” A slight edge crept into his tone.
“But, Daddy, you should just let me handle all of this,” she said. “I know how to run your campaign. Don’t mess it up.”
“Olivia,” Reverend Chance said, “This conversation is over. I have made my decision. I will go public and trust the voters to make the right choice.”
William could tell Olivia wanted to protest, so he jumped in to steer the conversation away from a confrontation between father and daughter. “Maybe we should just wait and see.” William glanced at Olivia, then he nodded at Reverend Chance. “Let’s err on the side of caution and sit tight for a moment, maybe. And then if anything else comes up, maybe you go public then.” He tried to broker a deal. William didn’t want to see his candidate’s numbers go even lower, and he knew a story about a free spending pastor would do just that. First his child, now his candidate. Could it get any worse?
“Just call them back, William,” Reverend Chance said. “Tell them we have a statement.”
Chapter 14
Nikki’s Internet search yielded all manner of horror stories. Her first query produced a report that eased her mind, but subsequent searches gave her information about children and adults whose lives were forever compromised by their condition, of other disorders that resulted from the untreated condition, even cancer.
By the time William got home, she was near tears. “Psalm has got to have this surgery. Now,” she insisted, before he even had a chance to take off his jacket.
“All right, baby,” William said in a calm voice.
“Are you listening to me?” Nikki demanded.
“Yes, I am. I said ‘all right.’” His voice
remained calm.
“William, this is your child, your baby and you don’t seem at all concerned for her well being,” Nikki snapped.
“I thought you said she was up and playing earlier? That, to me, is a clear sign she is fine,” William said.
“But what else did I say? I also said she was up and playing before all this happened, so we can’t trust that to mean she is fine.”
“Well, we can trust God to reveal to us she is fine, and maybe that’s what He is trying to do,” William said.
“Well, I think God wants us to do a bit more than sit around and wait on Him,” Nikki said. “That’s what you always do. You go and call on the name of God and then sit back and wait for Him to act.”
“Well, I don’t just ‘sit back,’ as you so note, but I do trust. And I trust Him to do amazing things for us. What is a little digestive condition? God can heal that instantly. Maybe He already has.”
“But we don’t know!” Nikki insisted. “I don’t see why you can’t get all this through your head. Our baby could be in that type of pain again, and I, for one, will not wait for that to happen.”
“So you’re saying you know better than God?”
“No, I’m not,” Nikki said. “But what I am saying is that I want to do all I can. God wants us to act on our faith. I am acting. I’m trying to learn all I can about this condition, influence the insurance company as best I can, whatever is humanly possible. I’m not going to just sit on my hands.”
“Nobody is sitting on their hands, Nikki,” William said. “I just think we should wait and see.”
Nikki threw her hands in the air. “I just don’t understand you sometimes. I’d think you’d be at least a little concerned that your daughter could die.”
William rubbed his eyes. “Die, Nikki?”
“Yes, die!” Nikki flung the words at him. “I sat right there on that computer and read some report about people dying from this thing.”
“Well, you know the Internet has all sorts of crazy info on there,” William said. “And yes, I’m just as concerned as you about Psalm, but I’m just trying to process all of this. That’s all.”
“Process?” Nikki said. “What’s to process?”
“Nikki, it’s been a very long day, can I just take my shoes off first?”
“Oh, you’ve had a long day?” Her chest was heaving. “What about me? I’ve been here, going back and forth with the insurance company all day—all day, Will—trying to save my child’s life and to no avail. I’ve been researching this condition on the Internet and each story is more horrible than the one before.”
“Okay, well, then get off the Internet,” William said. “You know you can’t believe everything you read on there.”
“So, what, now you’re saying I’m overreacting?”
William sighed. “Look, let’s just chill for a few minutes and come back to discuss this.”
“Oh, so you need a break from me, is that it?”
“No, baby, but nothing I say right now is going to work, and quite frankly, I’m tired,” he said. “I just need a few minutes—just a few minutes—to breathe without being disturbed.”
“So I’m a disturbance to you?”
William threw his hands in the air. “Impossible.” He grabbed his keys. “Look, I’m going to hang out at Mac’s house,” he said. “I’ll see you when you calm down.”
“I know you are not just going to walk out while I’m talking to you!” Nikki said, her hand on her hip. “So you want to run to your brother’s house to escape me, is that it?”
“Bye, baby.”
William closed the door behind him and Nikki cursed. Every fiber in her being wanted to call William back and let every profanity she could summon fly. She speed-dialed Danielle instead.
“Hey, girl,” she said when Danielle answered. “You won’t believe what just happened.”
“What?” Danielle said.
“Will can be so insensitive sometimes. He just came home and I told him the insurance company won’t pay for my baby’s operation. And then I told him about all the horrible stuff I found out about this disease. All he could do was say he needed time to ‘process.’ What kind of mess is that? Then he walked out.”
“Well, you know William always was a little slow,” Danielle said. “He never does anything fast. He always has to think about things, or should I say, ‘pray on it.’”
“Well, it’s okay for him to think and pray, but I needed him to be as freaked out as me,” Nikki said. “But he was just calm. Maybe he just doesn’t care.”
“You know that’s not true,” Danielle said.
“Sometimes, I just wonder why I married him,” Nikki said.
“Well, I told you, you should have waited,” Danielle said. She paused. “Hey, look, my other line is beeping, hold on for a sec.”
A beat later, she returned. “This is old Troy on the other line, trying to apologize. I went off on him when some woman called my job about him earlier today. He knows he’s in the doghouse. I’m going to make him beg, though. He can’t just think he can treat me any kind of way and think that all will be well.”
“So is he seeing the other girl?”
“I don’t know,” Danielle said. “He said she is stalking him and that’s why she called me. She even made her cousin move next door to spy on him. He keeps saying he’s not doing anything, so I guess he’s not.”
“Well, don’t be dumb over a man,” Nikki said. “You can let him go, you know.”
“Oh, I know you’re not giving me relationship advice, Miss I-can’t-even-keep-my-man-at-home.”
“It’s not even like that, and you know it,” Nikki said. “But hey, I’m going to let you get back to your man. Thanks for listening.”
Nikki hung up. She let out a heavy breath, as she thought back over the argument with her husband. William seemed calm even at the idea that their daughter could have a serious condition. For him, prayer would take care of it. Nikki wanted that confidence; she wanted to give prayer a chance. She walked across the living room and grabbed a Bible from its spot next to a smiling photo of Psalm on a table. The Bible had lain there for weeks, untouched. She sat on the couch and flipped to Matthew. She read one passage and then another. Nikki closed the Bible and put her hand to her mouth, reflecting on what she had just read. She leaned her head back, staring into space. “Lord, you said, ‘Ask and ye shall receive.’ Well, I am asking you. Please deliver my child. That’s what I need to receive. Deliverance for Psalm.”
She swallowed hard. “I know you said if we just have faith the size of a mustard seed, we can move mountains. Well, I don’t know how big a mustard seed is, but I’m having an issue of faith right now. Please heal my unbelief.”
Maybe William was right. Maybe God had already delivered Psalm. Maybe that’s why the child was playing so freely and showing no apparent effects of illness. Maybe the insurance had been denied because she didn’t need the surgery. Nikki smiled a bit wryly. She knew she could be hasty to action at times, and a bit high-strung. Faith was still new for her.
Nikki had seen William’s attachment to church and religion very early in their relationship and had worked to be a woman who had the same attachments. He was thrilled when she joined his church, the choir and even became an usher.
But sometimes that transformation showed a few cracks. Like now. Nikki went to church most Sundays and sometimes studied her Bible. She made sure to do what she thought to be right—she didn’t cheat on her husband and she tried to treat people with kindness. But Nikki had a hard time trusting in what was outside of her control, and relying on prayer to heal her daughter just made her uncomfortable.
She had read about miracles in the Bible and had heard testimonies in church, but she couldn’t cite any instance in her own life where she had let go and let God handle something dear to her. No matter what hard time she and William faced, she always tried to look for a practical solution, not a faith answer. She wasn’t raised that way, and certainl
y life’s hard knocks had taught her to be careful about trust.
Nikki fingered the outline of the frame around Psalm’s photo and took a deep breath.
She would try this thing called faith.
Chapter 15
Danielle told Troy he could come over. She quickly showered and slithered into a new Victoria’s Secret purple thong and bra set. She raced the vacuum across the floor and squirted Febreze in the air. Danielle sprayed Victoria’s Secret perfume behind each ear, dabbed it between her breasts, and, for good measure, on her thighs. She popped an Altoid into her mouth. Old Luther Vandross ballads flirted with the air and a bottle of white wine chilled in the refrigerator.
Danielle always knew how to please a man. She had learned at an early age that she could get whatever she wanted if she acted nicely and looked pretty, both of which were art forms to her. Tonight, she would make Troy declare fidelity to her. After all, why would he want to be with anyone else when he had her?
Stepping into her Louis Vuitton red dress, Danielle had to twist a bit to zip it. “Hmm,” she said, eyeing the faintest beginning of a love handle as she held her breath to let the zipper glide over it. “Oh, well, Troy won’t care about that.
I’m still finer than whoever it is he was with before me. And I look good.”
Knock! Knock! Knock!
Danielle quickly stepped into her pumps, took a last look into the mirror and walked toward the door. She waited for a second knock and fanned her face—there was no sense in looking as if she had been sitting around waiting for him.
She slowly opened the door and a smiling Troy pushed into her place. His skin was dark like midnight and the clearest she had ever seen on a man. His hair was cut close, with tiny waves making her want to stroke his head. His dark, strong, firm lips curved into that ever-present cocky smile that always gave her a slight rush. Danielle’s eyes roamed over the rest of him. Troy was six-feet-four-inches tall, with rock hard arms that bulged out of his muscle shirt. A diamond studded Rolex twinkled on his wrist and a rough looking raised, black shoulder tattoo bespoke his earlier jailhouse years. She knew what was beneath the sharply starched expensive jeans. A shudder went up her spine as she anticipated his powerful body pressed against hers.
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