Sinners & Saints

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Sinners & Saints Page 11

by Victoria Christopher Murray

“I said,” Alize began, as if she had an attitude, “Cynthia. I speak English. Don’t you?”

  “So, wait,” Pastor Griffith jumped in. “Someone named Cynthia paid you to do what?”

  She shrugged a little. “Got a call from this lady who hooked me up with Cynthia, who offered me some cash to just get up there and tell my story. She said it was testimony night and they were looking for people to testify.”

  “Where did you meet Cynthia?” Reverend Bush asked.

  “I didn’t.” Alize swung her waist-length platinum blond wig over her shoulders as if it were a weapon. “I got a call from this country-talkin’ chick saying what she wanted me to do and how she would leave me some money at the desk if I did a good job.”

  Jasmine inhaled deeply. Country-talkin’ chick. It was Rachel.

  “Okay.” Pastor Griffith began pacing again. “This is good! This is good!” he said, excitedly. “We can use this.”

  “To do what?” Hosea asked.

  “We can get her”—he pointed to the stripper, in her leopard-print spandex pants—”to get back up there and tell everyone how someone paid her to make this whole thing up. It will look like someone is out to fix this election—probably someone on Adams’s team.” Pastor Griffith laughed. “This is perfect. You’ll be a shoo-in for sure. All she has to do is get up there and tell everyone that she was lying.”

  “No,” Hosea, Reverend Bush, and Alize chorused together.

  “I ain’t no liar,” Alize said. “I told the truth, the whole truth, and nothin’ but the truth.” She grinned. “I watch Law and Order.”

  Hosea crossed the room and opened the door to the suite. “Alize, we’re sorry that we troubled you. I’m sure there’s someplace you have to be.”

  She looked around as if she’d hoped to stay a little bit longer. “That’s all you want from me?”

  “That’s it.” Hosea nodded.

  She moved hesitantly, then looked back at Jasmine. “You know, maybe I could say a few things about lying … you know, if the price was right …”

  Gently, Hosea placed his hand underneath Alize’s elbow. Jasmine said a quick prayer, begging God to make sure Hosea didn’t catch anything. “I think you’ve been paid enough.” He escorted her to the door, then as politely as he could closed it, even though she was still standing there, facing them.

  Hosea turned back to the others. His eyes wandered from Jasmine to his father, Pastor Griffith, and Mae Frances, before he glanced back at his wife.

  “I want to handle this with the truth.”

  Pastor Griffith shook his head. “Truth is not going to play well with this crowd.”

  “Really?” Hosea said. “With what some of those pastors have been through? Accusations of adultery, homosexuality, and a couple of years ago, didn’t one of the pastors get arrested right here at the convention for burning down his mistress’s house because she’d gone public with their affair?”

  “Yup. And that’s exactly why. Because let’s be honest … a lot of these folks ain’t nothing but saints with sinners’ hearts. They need this gossip to keep the spotlight away from them.”

  “Well, if this is gonna cost me the election, then so be it. But I’m not going to lie and no one is going to lie for me.”

  Jasmine glanced at Mae Frances, and she knew that her friend was thinking the same thing that she was—sometimes the only way to win was to lie.

  But this was Hosea Bush. No one in the world would be able to convince him of that.

  Hosea put his arm around Jasmine’s shoulders. “Pastor Griffith, I just need you to get me a little time to speak before the budget meeting tomorrow.” And then he went on to share his thoughts with everyone in the suite …

  Now here they sat, ready to give their budget presentations. This meeting was just a formality for the general population. The voting board had already seen how much the North and the South had raised and the North, behind Pastor Griffith, had broken the fund-raising record, raising four times as much money as the South. So, the budgets were not the news. But what Hosea was about to say was.

  As the meeting was called to order and the announcements were made, Jasmine sat stiffly, her eyes not wandering a bit from the pastor who stood at the podium. All she wanted to do was to get this over with.

  At least, this meeting was the first order of the day. After what went down last night, Jasmine was actually grateful that they’d convened this morning; she wouldn’t have to go through the entire day without knowing which way this was going to play out.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Cecelia King, followed by her husband, ease into seats next to Rachel and Lester. Jasmine steamed, but only on the inside. On the outside, she kept her cool.

  Just a few more minutes.

  Jasmine was surprised when Reverend Penn leapt from his seat and galloped to the stage to introduce Hosea. The reverend wouldn’t have been her first choice to present her husband, but since they’d all arrived, the good reverend and his porn-star wife had been nothing but totally supportive of Hosea. Now that she thought about it, Reverend Penn was actually the perfect choice for this task—everyone knew that he had wanted to be the North’s nominee, and if he could stand up for Hosea at this time, then the entire Coalition could.

  It felt as if everyone in the arena was holding their breath. But that didn’t seem to faze Hosea. He was as calm and collected as always. It was his nature to leave everything up to God. For a moment, Jasmine wanted to have some of his understanding, some of his peace. What would her life be like if she trusted God the way Hosea did? Maybe she would try it … really try it this time. She would … right after this election.

  “I present to you,” Reverend Penn said, “Pastor Hosea Bush.”

  With a squeeze of her hand, Hosea stood, then trotted up the three steps that led to the podium.

  He gave Reverend Penn one of those brotherman hugs, before he started. “Giving glory and honor to God who is the head of my life,” Hosea began, “I just want to thank Him and you for being here today. It is an honor and a privilege to stand before you as one of your candidates for president.” He paused for a moment, placed his Bible on the podium, and bowed his head before he said, “I know that the purpose of today is to discuss money … the amounts that have been raised and the plans as we see them.” He stopped. “But what I’d like to do is take just a moment. Would you mind turning with me in your Bibles to the Book of Hosea?”

  Low mumbles rippled through the congregation. Clearly, this was not what they expected. No one was interested in opening Bibles and reading scriptures. They were waiting for the drama. Either the man onstage needed to let go of some tears as he begged for forgiveness for his wife, or he needed to be defiant in his denial and protection of his wife. Either way would lead to some good gossip.

  But Hosea was never about the drama, and as Jasmine flipped through her Bible she knew that these people were about to see what a true man of God was all about.

  Hosea said, “Before we read, I want to tell you a little about this book. The facts, you already know: God told this prophet, Hosea, to find a wife. He told Hosea, ahead of time, that his wife wouldn’t always be faithful to him.”

  What? Jasmine screamed so loud in her head that she wondered if anyone else had heard her. Maybe she should have asked Hosea exactly what he’d planned to say this morning. Because she would have told him to leave out this part.

  “And even before they married,” Hosea continued, “the prophet Hosea knew that his wife would have children—some who would not be fathered by him.”

  Dang! Did he really have to go there? Did he really have to tell it like that?

  “But here’s the thing”—Hosea’s voice came through her thoughts—“the Book of Hosea is a story of love, not a perfect love, but it’s a story that’s real and tragic and true. It’s about love—God’s love for His people.”

  “Amen!”

  “Preach!”

  “Now, because of time, I’m not going to actua
lly read scripture to you,” Hosea said, “but I asked you to open your Bibles so that you would make a note to go back and read the entire book yourselves, especially the last chapter. And once you read, I know that God will talk to your heart and you’ll have a different opinion today about what you heard here last night.”

  Hosea closed his Bible and came down one step to get closer to the congregation.

  “See, here’s what I know. God made me, He loved me before I was even born, and He put on my parents’ heart that I should be named after that prophet who was just a man, but a man who heard God’s voice. The Lord knew that I would be such a man—a man who would have a wife who wasn’t perfect, but because of Jasmine’s imperfections, many would watch our walk together. And learn from it. And, many would come to Christ because of it.”

  The applause that started shocked Jasmine at first, and then she put her hands together like everyone else, though across the aisle, only Lester clapped.

  Hosea said, “My wife and I don’t owe you any explanations about what she did twenty years ago. We don’t have to tell you that she did whatever she had to do because she was a young girl who desperately needed money for college.”

  “All right, now!”

  “We don’t have to tell you that this happened months after she lost her mother and years before she really found God. We don’t have to tell you that to the young girl my wife used to be, working in a gentleman’s club was the only way. We don’t have to tell you any of that because truly, it’s not really your business.” He paused. “So here is the part that is your business. If you elect me, you will get a man who loves God and who has God’s favor. You will get a man who listens to the Lord and who, despite the imperfections of his wife and others in his family and especially himself, can stand up proudly at all times because it’s not about tricks.” He paused and looked toward Lester Adams.

  “Tell it!” several shouted.

  This was the only part of Hosea’s speech that Pastor Griffith had insisted upon. It wasn’t in Hosea’s character to go after someone like this, but even last night Jasmine could tell that Hosea was upset by the stripper’s sudden appearance; that’s why he’d agreed with Pastor Griffith.

  He said, “You will never find me in the middle of any kind of scandal, paying people to interrupt a celebration that should be all about the Lord.”

  It took every shred of self-discipline that Jasmine had not to lean forward. She wanted to see the look, not only on Rachel’s face, but on Lester’s as well. Hosea’s words accused them both.

  “But whatever happened last night is in the past. The American Baptist Coalition is all about the future.”

  This time, Hosea received a standing ovation.

  But he stopped them. “Please sit down, because I’m not looking for any kind of applause. All I wanted to do was to bring you what you deserved—and that was the truth. You didn’t get the truth last night. You heard lies and innuendos by someone who’d been paid off by one of us …”

  Shocked gasps filled the air.

  “If we are truly going to move this Coalition forward, we are going to have to do it with honesty and decency and in the ways of the Lord.”

  He couldn’t stop the ovation this time, and when they finished, Hosea said, “But you know what? I’m not the only one who believes this. I know our brother Lester Adams stands with me.”

  Hosea tipped the microphone away from his mouth, and motioned toward Lester. “Do you have anything that you wish to share?”

  Jasmine frowned and she could feel Pastor Griffith stir in the seat next to her.

  “What is he doing?” Pastor Griffith mumbled.

  This wasn’t part of the plan. The idea was that Hosea would get a few extra minutes more than Lester. They knew that Hosea could preach and move people and make up whatever points had been lost last night. But if Lester spoke, Hosea could lose the edge that he had clearly gained this morning.

  Quiet seconds passed, then Lester stood up. He walked up to the podium, took the microphone from Hosea, hugged him, then stood shoulder-to-shoulder next to his opponent.

  “Saints, I just have to say that I am honored to be standing in the presence of a man such as Pastor Hosea Bush.”

  He waited for the applause to subside before he continued.

  “You are so right; we all live in glass houses. And before we cast a stone, we need to clean our windows because there is not a one of us who could stand up here blameless. Not one of us who doesn’t have something that could shame us if someone resorted to the deceitful action that we all witnessed last night.” He paused and looked at Rachel. “Even my wife and I have things that have happened. An affair that I’m not proud of.”

  Jasmine heard Rachel’s groan all the way across the aisle.

  Lester kept on, “But while I’m not proud of it, I don’t have to walk in shame because I’ve been forgiven by the Almighty!”

  “Yes!”

  “Preach!”

  “I’ve been washed in the blood and God did what He always does—He turned something bad around for the good!”

  “Say it!”

  “Just like God did this morning,” Lester preached. “Today, because of my affair …”

  Rachel groaned again.

  “My marriage is stronger,” Lester continued. “And just like Brother Bush and his wife, Rachel and I are better for the trials we’ve been through. Amen!”

  “Amen!” the arena roared.

  Lester said, “And the Bible says that if we confess our sins one to another, and that if we pray for one another, then we shall be healed.”

  “Amen!”

  “Hallelujah!”

  “So, I ask all of you right now, to bow your heads and pray for me and Brother Bush. Whichever way this election turns out at the end of this week, one thing’s for certain. Pastor Bush and I are brothers, men who love God with all of our hearts. And in the end, when we stand before Him, isn’t that all that will matter? It’s all about God and the American Baptist Coalition!”

  Lester Adams had pulled the crowd to their feet and Jasmine was sure that very few remembered how this morning had started.

  “Let’s bow our heads,” Lester said, “as Pastor Bush and I pray for all of us.”

  Jasmine bowed her head, but didn’t close her eyes. Instead, she glanced over at Rachel. Her nemesis’s head was bowed, but with her arms folded across her chest, her shoulders hunched, and her lips poked out, it was clear that Rachel was seething. She’d probably believed that last night was her knockout punch. And she probably never would’ve believed that her husband would’ve provided the help that the Bushes needed.

  Jasmine’s eyes were still on Rachel when suddenly Rachel looked across the aisle at her. The two held their stares, locked as if they were in the middle of a battle.

  It was Jasmine who smiled; it was Rachel who looked away.

  Oh, yeah, Jasmine thought. Of course, there would still be people whispering and wondering and wishing for more trouble. But they were going to have to get it from someplace else. Clearly, Hosea had handled this.

  And now that her husband had done his part, it was time for Jasmine to do hers.

  She was going to handle Rachel Adams. Once and for all. That witch was about to pay … and Jasmine couldn’t wait.

  Chapter

  FOURTEEN

  Really, Lester? I mean, you had to confess to an affair in front of all those people? Really?” Rachel paced back and forth across the conference room, trying desperately to compose herself. They’d taken a ten-minute break so that the North and South could get their PowerPoint budget presentations together. Lester really should’ve gone over to meet with his team to get the presentation together, but Rachel guessed he knew what was best for him because he’d followed her into the conference room.

  “It’s humiliating enough that all of Houston knows about your affair,” she continued. “Now the whole freakin’ world knows my husband was unfaithful.”

  Lester sighed
heavily. “Rachel, trust me, we are not the only ones that have endured infidelity. If anything, I think it makes us more palpable to people. It shows them that we’re flawed humans and we’re not without sin.”

  Every word out of Lester’s mouth was making her madder. She was supposed to be celebrating the Bushes’ slinking away in shame. Instead, they were back to square one, with everyone acting like the bourgie couple walked on water.

  She raised a finger and pointed it at him. “And if you had to confess like you were in front of a priest, why didn’t you tell them I adopted the child of the woman that you slept with? Even though it turned out not even to be your kid. Your mistress is rotting in jail and I took her child. How many women would do that, Lester, huh? Why couldn’t you run and tell that?”

  “Rachel, I hadn’t intended to say anything at all but the Spirit just moved over me to speak my heart.”

  “Whatever,” Rachel said, waving him off. “Right now, the Spirit is telling me I need to go upside your head.”

  “Besides,” Lester continued, his voice getting stern as he ignored her threat, “we had to divert attention because I’m sure the Bushes weren’t the only ones who thought we were behind that stripper showing up.”

  Rachel shifted uneasily as she tried to remain expressionless.

  “I mean, that’s absurd, isn’t it, that anyone would think we would stoop to something so low?” Lester asked, narrowing his eyes.

  Rachel nodded innocently. “It most definitely is.”

  Lester stared at her apprehensively before saying, “Rachel, tell me the truth. You don’t know anything about someone hiring that woman to come and make up lies?”

  Rachel huffed as she threw up her hands. “Why does everyone assume she’s lying? Did you hear the Bushes deny it? No, so that means it’s probably true that Jasmine used to make her cheeks clap on the pole, probably while they were sliding a dollar bill down the crack of her a—”

  “Don’t be disgusting, Rachel,” Lester said, cutting her off. “And you still didn’t answer the question.”

  Rachel released another exasperated breath, walked over to her husband, looked him in the eye, and calmly said, “I didn’t have anything to do with that drama at praise and worship yesterday. I don’t know anything about some stripper being paid off.” Yes, she felt bad about lying to her husband, but she was the type of player who came to win, by any means necessary. So, God would understand her little white lie.

 

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