by Nia Arthurs
I sniffed. Obviously, my subconscious had not weaved together bacon rainbows and chickens from nothing. I smelled the tantalizing breakfast meat and extricated myself from the blanket to follow my stomach which was leading me in an out-of-body experience. My stomach guide pulled me to the kitchen and then, when it was satisfied that I had gotten the message, returned inside the protection of bone and flesh.
“Hey, you’re up.” Spencer greeted. Oh my gosh. Spencer. I was in Spencer’s house. Why was I in Spencer’s house? And why didn’t he have on a shirt? My brain took a naughty survey of his toned stomach before I whirled around and covered my eyes. No, no, no.
Think about puppies, flowers, kittens, anything but the half-naked man behind you.
Spencer laughed, but didn’t tease me. I heard a rustling as he pulled a shirt over his head.
“It’s safe to look now.”
I turned around but kept my hands over my eyes, peeking between my spread fingers to check if he was telling the truth. He was.
“Uh, good morning,” I croaked, with a voice still raspy from sleep.
Ugh, my hair. I tried not to think about just how abominable I looked right now. Spencer looked pleased to see me. Even fully clothed, he was handsome as ever. He wore a black tank top and jersey shorts. His feet were bare and his hair was mussed, but he still belonged on a big screen playing the leading man in a thriller or something. It was so unfair.
Stupid Spencer
He flipped the bacon sizzling in the frying pan, “I’m no gourmet chef like yourself, but I figured you’d need some sustenance.” He explained. I scratched my hair and tried to untangle the knots with my fingers but it might as well have been a bush. I gave up when my ring painfully yanked a strand of my mane and winced. I should cut the whole mess off.
“How did you sleep?” Spencer asked, rescuing my hair from my scissors happy thoughts.
“Fine, I had the weirdest dream…”
I bit my lip, hesitant to spill the seriously insane dream I’d had. Spencer studied my expression, turned the stove off and expertly dished up the bacon, scrambled eggs and toast. Sliding a plate in front of me, he paused to say,
“Tell me about the dream, Melody,” and then dived into his meal.
Embarrassed, I quickly said grace to buy some time before answering. Spencer waited patiently. When I saw that he wasn’t letting this go, I finally confessed. Both eyebrows rose when I mentioned the pole dancing chickens. As we laughed, I got a weird vision of Spencer and me laughing in this very kitchen, little caramel colored babies with oriental eyes padding around us.
Uh-heck-no.
I was not falling into that trap with Spencer. I needed to lay off the Ben and Jerry’s and the animated Disney movies. Spencer and I long-term?
Nope. It couldn’t happen.
Snap out of it, girl!
But the familiarity of our conversation and the total level of comfort between the two of us bore witness to a deeper connection than I had ever anticipated. I mean, here I was- a virgin, Kingdom citizen who had lived by the Constitution of her country her entire life- in a scandalous situation with a man who was not her husband, but whom she liked kissing very much. I was totally at ease and imagining repopulating the earth with Spencer. There was definitely something going on here.
As Spencer cleared up the dishes and we washed them together, it felt homey, familiar, right. Again, my mind took control and turned my thoughts to a future with Spencer in it. But it was more than our differences that had me corralling my mind from wandering that path. I wanted to go to college and get a degree. Just because it hadn’t worked out two years ago, didn’t mean that I wanted to replace my dream with a man. I had ambitions. Goals. Non-man and marriage related ambitions and goals. I was too young. It was too early to settle down. Spencer was twenty five and had already “sown his wild oats”, and while I didn’t necessarily want to do any freaky farming, I loved my independence and craved chasing that sense of adventure on my own terms too.
Spencer could not be allowed to get into my head. I had too much to lose.
Unaware of my thoughts, Spencer engaged me in conversation. “So,” he said looking incredibly sexy while drying the dishes. I wiped the same spot for about a minute because his flexing bicep was so darn mesmerizing. I could probably watch him put dishes into the cupboard for hours. “What does Melody Reyes normally do on Sundays?”
“I’m sorry, what?” I said, returning from my daydream.
“I mean, do you normally go to church? I know you’re not religious. But you keep talking about this Kingdom place so… is it like a church?”
Oh. It was time for the faith conversation. A part of me was nervous about explaining the Kingdom to Spencer. God was extremely important to me. I know my quick temper, inappropriate brain filter, and obsession with Spencer’s kiss made that statement seem contrary but it was true. God had gotten me through some pretty tough times. My anxiety about sharing this part of myself with Spencer did not stem from feeling ashamed of my faith. I’d been on mission trips and revivals with my church back home. I think, a part of me feared that Spencer wasn’t open to God at all. Throughout our acquaintance, I’d danced over deep issues such as religion and church because truly it wasn’t about religion for me. Plenty of church people were messed up. In fact, Mia lost her virginity to a Pastor’s kid, so I knew that going to church and having a religion meant as much as cow crap. But my faith was such a huge, huge part of me. It was deep and personal. It would crush me to think that Spencer was antagonistic or worse apathetic about eternity.
Not that I would judge. I wasn’t the kind of believer that shied away from a drink every now and then or a flirty skirt on occasion and more recently a make out session with a super hot Asian businessman. To others these were sins, but I wasn’t convicted and I preferred to serve Jesus with my love of and service to other people rather than through rituals like ankle skirts and Bible cramming (cramming Bible verses and Christian cliché’s into every statement). Don’t get me wrong. I’m not hating. Once you’re not out rightly going against the Manual, I say more power to you! But as for me, Jesus greatest commandment was to love God and others. I figured that was a simple enough request.
“Uh,” I hedged, “since I’ve been here, I mostly listen to this pastor from the Bahamas. His name is Myles Munroe. Then I put on praise and worship music and pray.”
I fidgeted with the cloth in my hand afraid to look at his expression. If there was disgust or ridicule on his face, I would have to give him distance. I had lots and lots of acquaintances who weren’t into God and even a few friends who had fallen away from the faith. But most of those people didn’t enjoy spending time with me. Of course I understood. Nothing puts a damper on clubbing like the Debby Downer who won’t dance to the cussing and lewd tunes or the Sandy Demandy who has to get home early to teach Sunday school the next morning. I was used to hanging out with a few select friends who were also a part of the Kingdom.
The silence stretched until I could handle it no more and I sneaked a peek at Spencer. I couldn’t quite gauge his expression. He looked… curious.
“Could we do that today then?”
I gaped at him, “You want to watch Myles with me?”
He tipped his head to the side, “Well, yeah. Because… I mean, you said you were missing home.”
I wasn’t too sure what one had to do with the other. “Spencer, you don’t have to do that.”
I knew I shouldn’t be trying to get out of sharing the Good News, but I wanted Spencer to want God for Himself, not for me. He tilted my chin up with a gentle finger.
“I want to.” He said; sincerity in his gaze.
A few minutes later, we settled into his living room where a huge HD TV screen and nothing else hung on a red-painted wall. This was Spencer’s man cave. Video games filled a cabinet to the right of the room. Haha, he was such a geek. We sat on the sofa, a healthy distance apart. Youtube streamed on his huge movie screen and I had my notebook settl
ed on my lap. Before we’d gotten started, I’d helped Spencer to pick out an understandable Bible app on his Iphone so he could follow along when Dr. Myles called a verse. The opening music played and Dr. Myles popped up on screen. He was an average looking Caribbean man, but his presence was commanding even through the recording. His dark skin was youthful looking despite the complete baldness in the middle of his head surrounded by a crown puff. He wore a black tailored suit and greeted his congregation with a smile.
“Hello, London!” he cried, “I bring you greetings from the Bahamas, the place where God lives!”
I laughed, but Spencer didn’t seem to get the joke. I quieted quickly and settled into my seat.
“Today,” Pastor Myles introduced the topic, “we will discuss maximizing your faith.”
I wrote the topic in my notebook along with the date. Spencer looked sort of uncomfortable.
“There are several keys we need to embrace.” Myles preached, “The first is there are things in life we cannot change. Things we cannot control, things we cannot stop or be responsible for and lastly, things we cannot exceed.”
I wrote them down, as Myles proceeded to explain each one.
“No matter how much we plan and organize, sometimes we cannot control the events that occur. This is when you do all you can and leave the rest to God.”
I thought about my failed scholarship attempt a few years ago and the more recent Missy fiasco. This definitely applied to me.
“There are things only God can do; things only God knows; things only God understands, and things only God can explain.”
I looked over at Spencer. Interest covered his face as he watched the black preacher man intently.
“So, what is your responsibility, if God is positioning you? You are never remembered for what you did not do.” Myles paced the stage as he preached. “What are the solutions? Every problem is temporary. Never apply a permanent solution to a temporary problem. See, some people make decisions based on pressure not purpose. Realize that the season you are in is going to change. You need to be ready for that day when it comes.” Myles said a few more statements after that then wound down the service with a prayer. The ending credits rolled on screen, the show’s theme song blaring melody filling the room.
Encouraged by the words of the pastor, I reflected on maximizing faith in my own life. Sometimes I felt ashamed because all of my friends were going to school and earning degrees and I was just stuck, not gaining any “success”. I felt encouraged to hold on to hope and trust that God was doing his part, even if I couldn’t see it yet. Ah, it was always a pleasure when the Word came with an applicable side to it. That’s why I loved listening to Doctor Myles.
I glanced over at Spencer who had remained thoughtfully silent throughout the message. I knew it was not the time to pepper him with questions the way I really wanted to so I left the message to soak in and went to go make tea. As I poured the water in the kettle, I pondered the series of events that had led me here today. Had I not taken the BTB job, I would not have been sent on assignment to L.A. I would not gotten personally selected by Mr. Thomas to pitch this project and I would never have met Spencer. Somehow, a tapestry was being woven; I just wasn’t sure what the big picture was.
Spencer soon shuffled out of the man cave. His face was unreadable to me, well apart from the fact that he didn’t look talkative. That I could read loud and clear. I sensed his discomfort from across the room. I knew that the Kingdom message could be overwhelming to those who didn’t understand. Unable to hold myself back, I went up to him and gave him a hug. My head barely reached his chest and more often than not he made me feel smaller than I actually was. But I knew that I could provide comfort and I gave it. At first, he hesitated but then he wrapped his arms around me and rested his head on the crown of mine.
“I’m not a Christian, Melody.” His chest rumbled as he spoke. I winced, but tightened my arms around him.
“Neither am I.”
He drew back to look at me, “Maybe that preacher man made more sense than a lot of ‘em, but I’m pretty sure Jesus Christ was mentioned. A lot.”
I grinned, “Christianity is a religion, Spencer. I am not religious. I just have two passports.” Sending a cheeky grin over my shoulder, I walked toward the stove and turned off the burner. Removing the hot kettle from the stove top, I poured the scalding liquid into a tea lined cup.
“Are you playing word games with me?” Spencer tugged me back into his embrace once I had set the cup back on the island counter.
“No.”
“Are you going to tell me more?”
“Do you want to hear it?” I countered.
He pressed a kiss to my forehead, “I want to know everything about you, Melody. I know what you believe is what makes you so frickin’ intriguing.”
Curious, I asked, “Really, how did it intrigue you?”
He led me to the living room, but I sat in the other chair so I wouldn’t get distracted. Spencer shot me a look but didn’t complain about the distance.
“I saw it in the twinkle of your eye.”
I gave him a skeptical glance, but he kept on going, “I saw it when you paused before every meal we shared.”
Hmm… good observation.
He gave me a naughty grin before adding, “And when you refused to have sex with me,” he dramatically waved his hand, “I knew that you were involved with a Being strong enough to make you resist me.”
I rolled my eyes and laughed, but quickly sobered when Spencer spoke again.
“Seriously though, whatever you have inside is all over you.” He rose, pulled me up and sat down in my chair, tugging me onto his lap, “It’s more than your innocence, which drives me crazy by the way. Honestly Melody, I’d like to know more about your passports.”
And so I told him. I started at the beginning. The division of sky and sea, a booming Voice calling nothing into something, and that very voice breathing life into Adam and declaring the earth to be his domain, his kingdom. I spoke about an enemy that tempted the king and queen and stole that kingdom. The King of Heaven was pissed but he promised Adam and his queen that one day another King would come and win back the Kingdom of earth and give access to the Kingdom of Heaven. The subjects waited for thousands of years, and that man finally came. Except He wasn’t just a man. He was more, so much more. And from the moment that man began his ministry, he spoke of kingdoms and kings and domains. People hated him. People loved him. People revered his healing powers. And through it all, he resounded, “The Kingdom of Heaven is here. Now.” The king of Heaven had arrived to give the domain back to the children of Adam, the rightful heirs.
It all sounded incredibly novel, but it was all true. There I was, in the lap of one of the sexiest men alive, telling him about my world and he did not flinch. He listened. He asked questions, thoughtful, truth-seeking questions so I had to pull up my Bible App to check out a direct verse. Spencer’s interest appeared genuine, but even if it was just a ploy to score points with me, I knew that he had heard the Truth. And no one who knows the Truth walks away unchanged.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I spent the rest of the day basically hanging out with Spencer. After our heavy discussion about Kingdom, we decided to do something light and fun. He suggested a visit to the Hollywood sign and a tour of Beverly Hills.
“That sounds great,” I agreed, “But could we stop at Walmart first? I need a change of clothes.”
“If you want to, I can take you to Walmart. But there’s this store where I always buy gifts for Betty and Isabel. We could go there instead.”
I knew that Spencer meant well, but I also knew that his taste and his bank account ranked much higher than mine. Shopping at any of the high end stores Spencer frequented would probably break the bank, but I couldn’t say no to him. He looked so excited. I figured I could go, look around and pretend that I hated everything so we could go to Walmart.
“Sure, lead the way, Oh Wise One.”
Spenc
er drove fifteen minutes away to the neighborhood mall. American malls are not at all what I had imagined a ‘mall’ to be. I’d garnered my information from movies of course, but in my mind the mall was only one huge building with a ton of kiosks housing various stores. I guess some malls are like that, just not the one that Spencer took me to. The Garden Dome Mall was like a gated community of stores, where each huge building housed one business. It was incredible.
Spencer parked the car and led me to a store called “Je T’adore”.
Ooh, a French boutique. I could already see the bank signs racking up.
The door opened automatically. I was so engrossed in mentally counting the money in my purse that I stood rooted in front of the open entrance.
“You okay?” Spencer asked me, invading my mental coin count.
“Fine,” I lied and then managed to step through the doors of the huge store. Immediately, I was overwhelmed. It was like the Caribbean sea of clothes, immense and foreboding at the same time. I glanced at Spencer, helplessness written all over my face. He opened his mouth to calm me, but refrained when a Betty Crocker look-alike appeared in front of us.
“Hi Spencer,” she greeted him by name.
“Hi, Lorraine, how are you and the grandbaby?”
“They’re good,” She laughed, “Terrell is getting bigger every day.”
Spencer smiled, “I’m glad to hear that.”
Mutely, I observed how kindly Spencer spoke to the saleswoman. His honor and gallantry toward her endeared him to me even more than if he’d simply waltzed in here and threw his money at her. Finally, Spencer introduced me.
“This is my… uh-”