MIKE FINISHED HIS PREPARATIONS FOR THE SESSION MEETING with plenty of time to spare. He’d put on a fresh shirt and tie before returning to the church. He wanted to look his best for the meeting.
After every agenda was neatly in place and the decaf coffee was dripping into the pot, he walked around the room, praying silently as he placed his hand on each chair. While making his second circuit, a voice interrupted him.
“What are you doing?” Bobby asked.
Mike turned quickly toward the door. His former partner’s shirt might have been starched twelve hours before, but it was thoroughly wrinkled now. His yellow tie was loosened.
“Waiting for you,” Mike said. “How’s it going?”
Bobby plopped down in the nearest chair. “Have you ever felt like you have too many irons in the fire?”
“A thousand times.”
“That’s the way I feel, and I’m worried that a couple of them are about to be taken out to brand me.”
“Avoid that if possible.”
“How’s Peg?”
“On bed rest.”
“I wish the doctor would tell me to lie around the house and do nothing except press the remote control for a few weeks. Park cleaned out his office and left yesterday. At least eighty percent of his remaining caseload has landed in my office.”
Mike poured Bobby a cup of coffee.
“I’ll try not to keep you here too late tonight,” he said. “We have a light agenda.”
Bobby took a sip of coffee. “How’s business?”
“What do you mean?”
“Your caseload. Since I haven’t heard from you, I assume you’re still handling the Miller case.”
“Yes, but it’s moving along at a fast clip. Ken West is bumping it up on the trial calendar.”
Mike studied Bobby’s face for any response, but his former partner stared past him across the room. Bobby picked up the agenda and took a sip of coffee.
“I’m glad to see you have the Miller case on the agenda for discussion. If the case is jumping up the calendar, I look forward to hearing about your exit strategy.”
Mike glanced down at the packet in front of him. “That’s not about the criminal case. Miller cut the grass this week. If you come out in the daytime, you can see what a neat job he did.”
Before Bobby responded, Libby Gorman and Barbara Harcourt came in together and were immediately followed by Milton Chesterfield, along with the other four members of the session.
“Did you ride together?” Mike asked in surprise.
“Everyone but Libby and Bobby had supper with Barbara,” Milton responded.
“Did you show them any new photos of the Florida grandkids?” Mike asked Barbara.
“Only a few,” the older woman responded crisply.
“Let’s get started,” Mike said to the group. “I’ve promised Bobby that I’ll get him home at a decent hour.”
When everyone was seated, Mike continued. “The first item on the agenda is the quarterly report of the finance committee.”
Rick Weston, the credit manager at a local car dealership, served as the chairperson of the committee. A quiet man, Rick rarely expressed an opinion. He read the report in a monotone voice. Mike was relieved when no one pointed out the slight downturn in giving.
“On the other side of Rick’s report are the attendance figures,” Mike said. “We continue to attract new visitors almost every Sunday.”
They plodded through the remaining committee reports. It had all the marks of a lethargic meeting. Mike had placed Sam’s bid to cut the grass as the last item and labeled it “Grounds Maintenance Bid from Miller Lawn Care.” As the elders moved through the agenda with no more than minor discussion, Mike inwardly debated whether to present Sam’s bid or table it until another meeting. Bobby had yawned several times, but they were ahead of schedule.
“The last item is a bid from a new company to cut the grass and maintain the shrubs and flower beds. Does anyone have an opinion about our current service?”
“It’s not good,” Libby responded immediately. “A few weeks ago, I noticed that the grass on one side of the church had been cut, but the other side looked ragged. It reminded me of my grandson’s hair after his older sister gave him a haircut.”
Milton coughed. “Is this a bid from Sam Miller, the man you’re representing in the criminal case?”
“Yes, but this doesn’t have anything to do with that,” Mike answered. “Miller’s bid is fifteen percent cheaper than our current service, and I believe he’ll do a better job.”
“Does he need the money to pay your fee?” Milton asked.
“No, I’m handling the case pro bono. I thought I made that clear when I asked permission to help him.”
“And it doesn’t concern you that he’s charged with stealing money from a church?” Milton persisted.
“Yes, but he won’t have access to our bank accounts or records.”
“The church would pay him with a check,” Rick said softly. “Then he would have our account information.”
At Rick’s comment, Mike quickly examined the faces around the table. Everyone except Libby Gorman looked grim. Libby appeared perplexed.
“You haven’t found another attorney to represent Miller?” Milton asked.
“No, he wants me to help him, and I’m willing to see it through. The case will come up for trial in a couple of weeks. After that, my involvement will end.”
Bobby pulled the knot in his tie closer to his neck. “Unless it isn’t called for trial, or you request a continuance, or Miller is convicted and you file an appeal.”
“Of course, those are possibilities. Trial work is always unpredictable.”
Barbara Harcourt spoke, her voice strained and imperious. “I wasn’t here when the session discussed this matter, but in my opinion, it is totally improper for our minister to represent a criminal. There are plenty of lawyers around, and this man should have hired one of them.”
“I understand,” Mike answered, keeping his voice calm. “But this is a unique—”
“There’s only one thing to consider,” Milton interrupted, pointing his finger at Mike. “We’ve gone over this matter in detail on two occasions, and we want a commitment from you to withdraw immediately from the case. We didn’t get a chance to talk to Libby before the meeting, but the rest of us are unanimous in our decision.”
“And I voted against it in the first place,” Libby said.
“Was that the reason for your joint supper before this meeting?” Mike asked, his voice hardening. “Don’t you think it would have been appropriate to allow me to offer my perspective before ambushing me at this meeting?”
Milton cleared his throat.
“We’re aware of your position. It would have been pointless to rehash it.”
Mike turned to Bobby. “Are you part of this?”
“I made my position clear two weeks ago,” Bobby answered. “None of us enjoy putting this kind of pressure on you, but it’s the only way to make you wake up and realize that what you’re doing is inconsistent with your calling as the senior minister of this church.”
“Really? Doesn’t the Bible say that God is interested in justice? What do the prophets say about acquitting the guilty and convicting the innocent?”
“We’re not here to debate,” Milton responded. “We need your answer.”
Mike waited until everyone in the room looked at him then slowly scanned the room. Only Rick and another elder didn’t hold his gaze.
“And if I decide to honor my commitment to Sam Miller,” Mike said slowly, “what then?”
“Get out of the case or leave the church. Is that clear enough?” Milton shot back.
Mike hesitated. Political prudence would dictate a request for time to consider his options, but he didn’t feel either political or prudent. He wanted to call the elders’ bluff. The church had grown and become much stronger since his arrival. Many of the new members were linked to him as leader. Any harsh action taken against him would split the congregation. He turned to Bobby.
“I need to know your position,” he said.
Bobby looked at Milton and nodded his head. The exchange between the two men pierced Mike’s heart. He’d hoped Bobby was a reluctant, not willing, participant in the assault against him.
Milton took a sheet of paper from his pocket. “We’ve made arrangements for an interim pastor to fill the pulpit.”
“You’ve already lined up someone to replace me?”
“On a temporary basis. He’s a retired minister from Shelby. You would be given a sabbatical.”
“Sounds more like a permanent suspension than a sabbatical.”
Bobby spoke. “That’s not what we would tell the congregation. In fact, our hope is that we could present this action in a positive light. Peg is experiencing a high-risk pregnancy and needs your help at home. We would announce the sabbatical as a gesture from the session to accommodate your family situation. Then, if things work out, you could return to the pulpit without any stigma of disciplinary action.”
Mike couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“The sabbatical would be with full pay and benefits for three months,” Rick added. “One month for each year of service.”
“Thanks, that’s generous,” Mike replied with thinly veiled sarcasm.
Milton Chesterfield’s eyes flashed. “You better believe it is! And if you want to lose it, keep talking! Just because you used to be a hotshot lawyer in Shelton doesn’t mean you can come out here and run over those of us who have been in this church longer than you’ve been alive!”
“If I recall, you were on the committee that interviewed me and voted unanimously for me to come,” Mike responded coldly.
“Stop it!” Bobby held up his hands. “This isn’t easy for any of us, and we don’t need to end up in an argument. I move we ask for a written response from Mike by the end of the week. If he withdraws from the Miller case, this discussion will have served its purpose. If not, we have a plan to move the church forward and allow Mike to do what he wants to do.”
“Second,” Barbara responded quickly.
“All in favor,” Milton said.
Mike watched seven hands rise into the air, and with a sinking feeling in his heart, knew his days as pastor of the Little Creek Church had come to an end.
NORMALLY, MIKE STAYED AFTER A MEETING UNTIL EVERYONE departed the premises. Tonight, he couldn’t wait to get away. Abandoning all pretense of civility, he left the conference room and walked directly to his car. He heard Bobby call his name, but he didn’t turn around. Bobby had been right about one thing—any additional words would only fuel a fight.
During the drive home, Mike’s mind raced in a hundred directions. He’d never been threatened with firing in his life. The thought of posting his résumé on the seminary Web site in an effort to locate another pastorate made him feel slightly nauseous. Returning to law practice in Shelton in the face of open animosity from his former firm was not an option. He pulled into his driveway. Ever loyal, Judge greeted him at the kitchen door.
“Peg!” Mike called out. “Where are you?”
“Lifting weights in the bedroom!” she responded. “Please bring me a glass of ice water.”
Mike took longer than necessary to fix the glass of water. He stopped to let Judge go out to the backyard.
“You sure are a slow waiter!” Peg yelled. “In my dream you were always at my elbow!”
Mike took the glass of water into the bedroom. Peg was leaning against a couple of pillows with a sketch pad in her lap.
“What are you drawing?”
“A concept. I’d like to paint some watercolors for the baby’s room.”
“Maybe you can do a few extras to sell.”
Peg laughed. “Don’t be silly. I’m not interested in going commercial.”
“In a few months we could use the money.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s serious.”
Peg’s face fell. Mike sat on the edge of the bed.
“The elders told me to get out of Sam’s case or leave the church.”
“What? That’s crazy!”
Mike told her what had happened at the meeting. When he reached the part about the sabbatical and the reason for it, she began to cry. He handed her a box of tissue.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked.
Peg blew her nose. “No, it just hurts so badly. I’m more mad than sad. To use my pregnancy as an excuse to the congregation is so dishonest and unfair.”
“Yeah, it’s cowardly.”
His voice growing more despondent as the adrenaline released during the meeting drained from his system, Mike finished his account of the night’s events.
“I’ve prided myself on staying ahead of the curve on the political activity taking place at the church, but this caught me off guard. Bobby should have tipped me off to a mutiny of this magnitude, but he may have been the one who came up with the sabbatical idea in the first place.”
“Elizabeth Lambert hasn’t returned my calls for almost two weeks.”
Mike grunted. “She didn’t have the courage to face you, knowing what was in the works.”
Peg shook her head. “It doesn’t make any sense. Such a mean attitude. If they knew more about Sam—”
“It wouldn’t make any difference. He’s already a convicted felon in the minds of some members of the session. And Milton was just looking for an excuse to vent his animosity toward me. To him, Sam is irrelevant.”
“Who agrees with Milton?”
Mike shrugged. “I’m not sure how many people believe the church would be better off going backward than forward. I’ve worked hard for three years to communicate a vision for the future—tonight it came crashing down in a few minutes. The support I thought I had among the leadership of the church was an illusion.”
“That may not be true.”
“I have to assume the worst. Part of my failure has been in believing what people said to my face and trusting it as their true opinion.”
“Mike, that’s awful. It makes the church sound like a charade.”
“It’s made up of imperfect people.”
“Who are supposed to be getting better.”
Mike smiled slightly. “Like you are. I’d like to think you’re the result of my ministry, but Sam Miller has had more to do with what God is doing in your life than I have.”
“That’s not true. You’ve been so steady and faithful. Even when I was angry with you or wanted to ignore you, it wasn’t possible. And you’ve helped a lot of people.”
Mike kissed her forehead. “That’s sweet, but can’t you let me wallow in self-pity and doubt for a few minutes?”
“We’ll schedule your pity party later. When are you going to tell Sam about this?”
“I’m not sure I should. He’s facing enough pressure without taking on my problems. I don’t like being coerced into doing—”
“What you don’t want to do,” Peg said, finishing his sentence. “That’s your pride and ego talking.”
“So? It’s still about doing the right thing.”
“And when you’re upset isn’t the best time to make an important decision. You’ve told me that plenty of times when I was in an emotional upheaval. Sam needs to be brought into the loop. He’ll find out anyway if he and Muriel visit the church.”
“It’ll be all over town,” Mike added gloomily. “There’s no way the spin Bobby wants to put on this is going to stand up to the scrutiny of the rumor mill. One of the elders will crack, and the real reason will leak out. The fight within the church will begin, and the whole community can enjoy the latest gossip about the big blowup at Little Creek Church.”
“Don’t make your final decision until you talk to Sam. I’ve supported you on this from the beginning, but you should talk to him and give it some time.
You don’t have to respond until the end of the week. When you figure out the right decision, you’ll make it.”
“Are you worried about what will happen to us?”
Peg pointed to Mike’s letter that lay open on the nightstand. It seemed a week since he’d penned it, and he’d forgotten all about it.
“Of course, but a woman can trust her future to a man who would write a letter like that.”