Curtis switched the phone from one ear to the other. “Baby, I’m sorry to tell you this, but as soon as I finish meeting with the deacons and trustees, I have to go visit the Wilsons. I just found out this afternoon that they had a death in their family,” he said to Mariah as carefully as he could. She wasn’t going to stop him from doing whatever he wanted, but he could tell she hadn’t been quite the same ever since Alicia blabbed about Charlotte and his son four days ago, and he didn’t want her getting any crazy ideas. Ideas like leaving him and filing for a divorce. He didn’t think she had it in her, but he couldn’t take any chances. The last thing he wanted was to have to explain to the deacon board why another wife had left him.
“Curtis, what is going on? Last week you called me at the last minute saying you had a meeting, and last night you didn’t make it home until after nine.”
“But I already told you, Mariah. I was at the church working on next week’s sermon.”
“But you hardly ever work on Mondays.”
“No, but yesterday I felt like working, so I did. I worked so I wouldn’t have to work so hard on Thursday and Friday trying to prepare for Sunday.”
“Curtis, I’m really getting worried.”
“Worried about what?” He frowned.
“Us. Because I’m starting to feel like you don’t want to spend time with me anymore.”
He was trying to be patient and cordial, but she was starting to get on his nerves. She was starting to sound like Tanya all over again, and he wasn’t going to tolerate it.
“Look, Mariah. I don’t have the liberty of sitting at home with you all day or coming home every single evening right on schedule. I wish I could, but I can’t. I have a church to run, and you’re just going to have to understand that.”
“I do understand, but ever since last week you’ve been different.”
“Different how?” he asked, raising his voice.
“You seem distant and like you really don’t want to touch me.”
“Oh Lord. Not all these accusations again.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that you’re fabricating stuff in your head for no reason.”
“Well, it used to be that you wanted me every night, but now all of a sudden you don’t. And I’ve been doing everything you said you wanted me to do.”
But not the right way, Curtis thought. But that was beside the point, because regardless of how well she tried to make love to him now, she’d never be able to compare to Adrienne in a million years. She’d never be able to give him what Adrienne gave so naturally. Adrienne had always satisfied him without having to work at it, and he liked that. The chemistry they’d shared was unexplainable. It was the reason he was going to call her as soon as he hung up with Mariah.
“This is all in your head,” he continued. “You’re my wife, I love you, and I certainly don’t want anyone else, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Well, after finding out about that girl Charlotte, I don’t know what to think.”
“How many more times do I have to apologize for that?”
“You don’t. But I just don’t understand why our marriage seems to be changing.”
“Look. I really don’t have any more time for this, so unless you have something else to discuss, I need to prepare for my meeting. And you need to find something to do on your own.”
“Honey, why are you treating me like this?” she said, starting to cry.
“Treating you like what, damn it?”
He regretted his words immediately. He hated using vulgarity, especially in the Lord’s house, but Mariah was truly getting under his skin.
“I didn’t mean to curse at you, and I’m sorry. But, baby, I really have to go.”
“Fine.”
“We’ll talk more when I get home.”
“How long do you think you’ll be at the Wilsons’?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll call you when I leave there.”
“I’ll be waiting,” she said.
“I love you, and I’ll see you then.”
“I love you, too.”
Curtis felt like screaming. He’d wanted a wife who knew her place and one who would love him exclusively, but this was ridiculous. She was smothering him in a way he couldn’t handle. He didn’t want to lose her right now, because he needed a proper first lady, but she was going to have to stop expecting him to spend all of his free time with her. He’d never been confined in that way before and he wasn’t going to allow it now. What he needed to do was have a long talk with her, so she understood how their marriage was going to work. But he would also make love to her at least every couple of days to prevent any further suspicions.
However, tonight wouldn’t be one of those nights. He wasn’t sure how his evening was going to play out, but earlier he’d sent Adrienne two dozen roses and called to see if she received them, and he was just about to call her again. She’d sounded sort of irritated and hadn’t been able to talk for more than thirty seconds, but maybe if he prayed about it and spoke to her in just the right way, she’d finally agree to see him again. Hopefully, it would be tonight, since his schedule was wide open. It was true that he’d been asked to go visit the Wilsons, but he’d quickly fixed that situation as soon as the call came through. He had ten associate ministers and had already assigned one of them to do the honors. His associates were like faithful deputies and they stood in for him on a great number of occasions. Some of the deacons and quite a few of his members thought he should personally visit every family who’d lost a loved one, but he’d made it very clear that he wasn’t going to do it. At least not all the time. Yes, he had done it quite often when he pastored at Faith, but when he’d signed on at Truth, he’d told the deacons that it was up to them and his associate ministers to handle those responsibilities. And the only reason he’d remotely considered visiting the Wilsons was that their son had recently signed a lucrative sports contract and had already mailed ten percent of his signing bonus to the church. But right now Adrienne was his priority and the Wilsons would just have to understand.
He picked up the sleek-looking silver cordless phone and then laid it back on its base. When he’d invited Adrienne to dinner a week ago and then called her this morning about the flowers, he’d made both calls from his office phone. But he was starting to think it might be better to use his cellular phone from here on out. He wasn’t worried about anyone monitoring his phone calls, but after the way Monique, his former secretary at Faith, had spied on and betrayed him, he didn’t want to take any chances. So instead he slid the earpiece into his ear, dialed Adrienne’s office, and folded his arms across his stomach.
“So how are you?” he said when she answered.
She sighed but didn’t speak.
“So are you still enjoying the flowers?”
“No, Curtis, I’m not. And do you want to know why? Because every single person in my department has been raving over how beautiful they are and how nice it was for my husband to send them. So, no, I’m not enjoying them one bit.”
“I guess I don’t know what to say.”
“How about nothing?”
“Baby, look. I didn’t mean to upset you, and I only sent them because I wanted you to know how much I’ve been thinking about you. I haven’t been able to do much else since we had dinner.”
“Well, I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t send me anything else.”
“Okay. If that’s how you feel, then I won’t.”
“Good. And if that’s all, I have to go.”
“Just like that?”
“What else do you expect me to do?”
“Talk to me.”
“Look, Curtis. I don’t know if you haven’t been listening to me or if it’s that you’re just plain desperate when it comes to women. But either way, I want you to hear me once and for all: Please leave me the hell alone.”
Desperate? Was she kidding? Yes, he wanted her back, but he certainly wasn’t desperate, not by a long shot. He could have just about any woman he wanted. Inside the church or outside of it, for that matter. He wondered where she’d gotten such a lame idea and where all this sudden courage was coming from. Five years ago she’d thought the sun rose and set on him, and she sometimes broke into tears just because he was angry at her.
But he knew this new attitude had everything to do with the fact that he’d been begging her like a sweet little puppy. He’d decided that the nice and polite route was the best way to go, but now he could see that it wasn’t working. He also knew that deep down she wanted him back and was only trying to play hard to get. He’d seen it in her eyes when he’d kissed her in the parking ramp.
He knew what he had to do, though. He had to drop this nice-guy act and remind her of who she was dealing with.
“You know, Adrienne, I’ve poured my heart out to you, I’ve apologized, and still you’re acting as if you hate my guts. As a matter of fact, I’ve been more patient with you than I have with any woman, but this is where it ends. And just for the record, I think you and I both know that I’m not anywhere near desperate when it comes to females.”
“I have to go, Curtis.”
“Fine. But just let me say one last thing. For the life of me, I can’t believe you just ruined a chance at marrying a man who loves you as much as I do and who can give you everything you ever wanted. Not to mention the fact that you’ve blown a chance at being the next first lady at Truth. And this is all so you can stay married to that boring husband of yours—a man who probably couldn’t satisfy a virgin when it comes to making love.”
He waited for Adrienne to respond.
But she didn’t.
“What a waste,” Curtis said, and pressed the end button on his cell phone.
He’d finally rolled the dice and the only thing he could do now was wait for the outcome. There was no sure way to tell how Adrienne was going to react, but he was betting that she’d realize what a fool she’d been and would quickly come to her senses. He was counting on the fact that she’d soon realize she couldn’t go on without him.
Curtis walked into the conference room and sat down at the highly shined mahogany table. The deacons and trustees filed in one and two at a time over the next ten minutes until they were all in attendance. They picked up meeting agendas from the table prior to sitting down.
“Before we call this meeting to order, let’s first have a word of prayer,” Deacon Gulley said. He was a husky middle-aged man, a former deacon at Faith and chairman of the board.
When he finished praying, he said, “Pastor Black has some new business to discuss, so I think we should start with that. Pastor?”
“Thank you, Deacon,” Curtis said, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table. “As all of you know, I’m a pastor who believes in keeping up with the times and one who believes that even though this is a church, it has to be run in a businesslike manner. But before I get to what I’m proposing, let me tell you what’s been happening the last four weeks. I asked six of my associate ministers to monitor the congregation to see if there was anything we could do to make things more convenient. And what they noticed was that there were a few cash-paying members who had fifty- and hundred-dollar bills but weren’t able to get change for them. Which meant they couldn’t pay their tithes and offerings. In addition to that, we’ve been receiving back far too many bad checks from the bank. So what I’m proposing is that we lease and install one or two ATMs in the front vestibule. That way, every member will have access to it, and it will even come in handy when we have unannounced offerings that they didn’t bring enough cash for—”
“ATM?” Deacon Thurgood interrupted. “I know you don’t mean one of those money machines that I see at the grocery store and in certain parking lots?”
“Yes, Deacon, those are the machines I’m speaking about.”
Deacon Thurgood looked at Deacon Winslow and shook his head in amazement. As Whitney had predicted, both men clearly disagreed with what Curtis was saying. But even though they were his elders and well into their seventies, he wasn’t about to let them intimidate him.
“The other item I’m proposing is that we set up an electronic pay plan for members who pay the same tithe amount every pay period. That way, they’d be able to pay their tithes automatically. The benefit would be that they’d no longer have to write a check, carry cash, and when they aren’t able to attend service for whatever reason, their tithes will still be deposited on a regular basis. This could also work for people who don’t tithe but do give the same amount in offerings every Sunday. Then my final proposal is that we hire two financial planners who would meet with every member who isn’t tithing. Some members don’t tithe because they simply refuse to do what God has told them. Others can’t afford it. But the reason they can’t afford it is that they’re not managing their money well enough. However, if we hire two qualified professionals, they could help members create budgets that will allow them to pay their ten percent and they’d also be able to pay off unnecessary debt and have more disposable income for themselves.”
“I ain’t never heard so much foolishness in all my life,” Deacon Thurgood chimed in.
“Me neither, Fred,” Deacon Winslow agreed. “And all these new ideas is what’s sendin’ folks straight to hell.”
“You got that right, JC,” Deacon Thurgood said. “Because that ATM and electronic payment stuff don’t sound like nothin’ but a scam to me.”
Curtis prayed for someone else to comment. Anyone. But everyone kept their mouths shut. Half the board members were in their thirties, so he couldn’t understand why none of them had the balls to speak up. Spineless is what they were. But he wasn’t going to show his frustration or anger and instead was going to talk this over with them “nicely.”
“Okay, Deacons. I respect both of your opinions, but I’d also like to hear from the rest of the board. And let me just say right now that I’m not trying to propose any schemes here and that all moneys collected will still be deposited directly into the church account the same as always. I’m only proposing these ideas as a way to make giving more convenient for the members. And let’s be honest, we can’t run this church without the support of our tithes and offerings, so this will ultimately benefit the church as a whole.”
“Well, I will say this,” Deacon Taylor finally said. He was Curtis’s favorite deacon and friend. “An ATM would definitely be convenient for me, because I’m always short on cash and then don’t think about it until I really need it. And there probably are some members who just might appreciate having access to one inside the church. Especially on those days when they just don’t have quite enough time to stop at another location.”
“Well, I guess the next thang we’ll be doin’ is tellin’ people they can pay by Visa, MasterCard, or Discover,” Deacon Thurgood said.
“Mmm-mmm-mmm,” Deacon Winslow said, laughing. “Paying the Lord with a credit card. Now ain’t that a notion.”
Deacon Thurgood joined him. “Ain’t that somethin’? So, unh-unh, there ain’t no way I can ’gree to nothin’ like that.”
“Naw, me neither, Fred.”
Curtis wondered if Deacon Winslow always agreed with everything that Fred had to say. These two were running the entire meeting and he wondered when Deacon Gulley, the so-called chairman, was going to speak up.
“Mr. Chairman, how do you feel about my ideas?” Curtis asked.
“To be honest, Reverend, I really don’t know. I do hear what you’re saying, but I don’t think the congregation is ready for ATMs and direct deposit. Or even financial planners for that matter. I know there are a few other churches out there that are already doing some of the things you’re talking about, but I think we have to take things slow with our congregation. Because the one thing we don’t want is for people to feel pressured into giving or like the ATM is an electronic guilt trip.”
“I don’t think they’d see it like that at all,” Curtis said.
“It’s really hard to say whether they would or wouldn’t, but that’s just how I feel,” Deacon Gulley said.
“Well, what about everyone else? Deacon Jamison, Deacon Pryor, Deacon Evans?” Curtis polled the three youngest deacons in the room.
“I think you have some pretty good ideas, Pastor, but I just don’t know if they’re appropriate for this church,” Deacon Evans stated.
“I second that. I don’t totally disagree with what you want to do, but I’m not sure the timing is right,” Deacon Jamison answered.
“And for me,” Deacon Pryor said, “well, I guess, I’m just old-fashioned, so I don’t see anything wrong with leaving our system of giving the way it is.”
Cowards. Pure, unadulterated cowards. And what could Deacon Pryor possibly know about being old-fashioned? He couldn’t have been more than thirty-three. Curtis didn’t even want to think about the rest of the members sitting in the room and what they thought, let alone the ones who weren’t able to attend the meeting. He was starting to feel like this was Faith Missionary all over again. Back then, the opposing ring leader was Deacon Jackson, but now he had Andy Taylor and Barney Fife to contend with. He wanted to tell all of them how backwoods their way of thinking was and how they were never going to get anywhere by being so complacent. Didn’t they know that change should be seen as something positive? Or that taking risks was very necessary in order to succeed?
“Well, if that’s all you have, Pastor, then I think we should move on to the next order of business,” Deacon Gulley suggested.
Curtis felt like a defeated heavyweight champion. He’d had so much more control and influence at Faith, but these deacons here at Truth seemed to be a little more on the stubborn side. He wasn’t giving up, though. It was just going to take a little longer than he’d thought in terms of making them see the light.
And he had all the time in the world to wait.