Chapter Five
After a summer hiatus, Calvary Baptist church opened its gym for a new season of basketball. This was the second year that Jerome served as the league organizer. He had played on a team when the league started many years ago, but the pressure on his troubled knees became too much to bear. Not wanting to give up on the ministry completely, he received, with open arms, the invitation to be a leader.
The ministry was about more than just basketball. From late October to mid-March, men from all walks of life came together every Tuesday and Thursday for a night of fun and fellowship. There was no pressure to convert unbelievers, but it was the ministry’s prayer that all the men would develop a deeper relationship with God by the end of the season. Jerome knew this ministry was his calling. He loved basketball, but most of all he loved being a witness and helping men cope with their problems.
Jerome stepped out of the office he shared with two other leaders and watched the men warm up. His middle son, Jerome Jr., was among them. He watched as his son attempted lay up after lay up without making one basket. Jerome Jr. wasn’t much for being coached, especially by his father.
Jerome wanted to tell his son that he was applying too much pressure on the ball upon release. As his current skills displayed, Jerome Jr. wasn’t the best athlete, but he was persistent, something many aspiring athletes lacked, including Jerome’s oldest son, Reggie. Reggie easily excelled in every sport he played, but he didn’t have the passion or determination it took to last as a professional.
The scoreboard buzzed, letting everyone know that the warm-up period was over. Bouncing balls stopped, side conversations ceased, and the players made their way to center court. Because it was the first meeting of the season, Jerome was in charge of delivering announcements and sharing a scripture for the week. He stood tall, Bible in hand, in the middle of about three dozen men and a small mass of spectators. He had no fears or jitters. Speaking in front of a group in casual settings was his forte.
“Good evening, men. It’s so good to see new and returning faces in the crowd tonight. Thanks to all of you, we have added five more teams to the roster. And we want to keep it at five,” he said, “so please see me before November eleventh if you haven’t paid your dues or picked up your jersey.” Jerome opened his Bible to the page he had studied all morning. “As some of you know, before tip-off we like to give you a message of encouragement. This week, I’d like you to meditate on Judges, chapter seven.”
Jerome read the scripture then roughly explained that Gideon was told by God to go into battle with a limited number of men. “When faced with a challenge,” Jerome continued, “Gideon was afraid. God understood Gideon’s fear, but didn’t excuse him from the task he had to do. If you’re facing an overwhelming situation today, know that God can give you the strength you need to handle it.” Jerome paused as the words pricked at his heart. “But, my brothers,” he continued, “you must listen to God and obey Him. Know that you are never alone. No matter what it feels or looks like, God will provide courage the very moment you start to feel weak.” Jerome stared at the Bible verse, momentarily forgetting that all eyes were on him. He placed a bookmark between the pages and asked, “Are there any prayer requests?”
For the next five minutes, several men shared testimonies and gave God praise for what had taken place in their lives. This was an important part of the night.
Many men didn’t have outlets to pour out their true emotions. Besides Jesus, Jerome only had Brandon, his brother in Philadelphia, with whom he could share his innermost feelings. Jerome needed this time just as much as the other men. He waited patiently for the last man to speak then called Pastor Hampton to the floor to pray.
Jerome Jr. slapped his father’s back when Pastor Hampton was done with his prayer. “What’s up, old man? You’re about ready for the pulpit,” he teased and tossed him a basketball.
Jerome caught it with one hand and dribbled the ball to the basket, taking a shot about a foot away from the hoop, and it glided through the net. “If you make shots like that, you’ll win tonight,” Jerome bragged.
Jerome Jr. chased after the loose ball and attempted to repeat his father’s moves. He was unsuccessful. The ball bounced off the rim and landed in Jerome’s hands. “I didn’t have much time to practice over the summer with the new baby and all. I’m a little rusty,” Jerome Jr. said.
Rather than agree with his son about his skills, Jerome encouraged him. “It’ll come back to you in no time,” he said and ran to the basket again, this time trying to score from a different angle, but Jerome Jr. blocked the shot with force, bruising his father’s left arm.
“Slow down, Pop,” Jerome Jr. said. “I still got a little game left in me.”
The buzzer sounded again, indicating that it was time for the games to officially begin.
“You’re lucky,” Jerome said, massaging the pain in his arm. “Rematch on Sunday after dinner?”
Jerome Jr. nodded then joined his teammates.
Jerome stood on the sideline, ready to enjoy his son’s game when a pain shot down his arm. He couldn’t believe how out of shape he was. He held on to his arm until tip-off then headed to the office in search of Tylenol.
Dressed in an old Adidas sweat suit and a pair of 90’s Jordans, Reverend Hampton stood in front of the Xerox machine making copies of release forms. “You have a good bunch of men this year,” he said.
Jerome placed his Bible on the desk and thought about the message he’d delivered, the message God had placed into his spirit seconds before he spoke it aloud. “Yeah. I think going into the other neighborhoods helped.” Jerome riffled through his desk drawers for a pain reliever. Unable to find what he needed, he sat down. Maybe the pain would go away on its own.
Pastor Hampton closed the cover of the copy machine and prepared to leave. “I’m going to hang around a bit, but it’s my turn to cook tonight, so I can’t stay long.”
“Say,” Jerome said before the pastor had reached the door, “do you have a minute to talk?”
Pastor Hampton put the copies he made on top of a file cabinet and closed the door before sitting in an adjoining chair.
Years ago, the last place Jerome would’ve been was in an informal counseling session with the pastor of a church. But as Jerome bared his soul, he was surprised at the level of comfort he felt. Maybe it was the fact that Pastor Hampton didn’t have on his formal clergy attire. Or that he was only two years older than Jerome. Whatever it was, Jerome could be himself without sugar coating certain details.
Not once wearing the face of judgment or shame, Pastor Hampton silently waited for Jerome to finish talking. “I have to be honest,” he began when Jerome concluded. “I believe you and I both know your dreams may be God’s way of telling you to reach out to your daughter and her mother. It might hurt, but you have to decide what matters most to you.” He uncrossed his legs and relaxed his hands on each of his knees, and his tone became even more serious. “If you don’t tell Renee and this got out—”
“I know where you’re going, Pastor. I just wish there was a way to handle this without hurting so many people.” Jerome lowered his head. “I almost lost Renee once, and I’m afraid she’ll leave me for good this time.”
“I can’t deny that you have a challenge ahead of you,” Pastor Hampton said, “but like the passage you read tonight, you must do what God tells you to. Things could get worse if you don’t obey Him.”
Tiny beads of sweat formed on Jerome’s nose, and he frowned. “God spared my marriage when I had the affair. He might not give me a second chance.”
“God does not operate the way man does. He wants to bless you. I can’t say what the outcome will be in this situation, but I will say that secrets do expose themselves in time. I’ve lived long enough to know that to be true.” Pastor Hampton unzipped his sweat suit jacket. The small office overheated when the door was closed longer than ten minutes. “Protect your family, Jerome. Trust that God will lead you in the right direction.”
Jerome stood to his feet and sighed. He wanted to get back to the games and the fresh air. “Your sermon on what’s done in the dark spoke to me. It’s what started the dreams.”
Pastor Hampton nodded his head. “Continue to pray. Remember there’s not one problem too hard for God.”
There was nothing more for Jerome to say. He knew what he had to do. “Thanks, Pastor Hampton. I think I needed to hear that.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” Pastor Hampton replied. “Before I go, shall we pray?”
Jerome sat atop his desk. He closed his eyes when Pastor Hampton was ready and let the preacher’s words into his spirit. He didn’t know where to begin, but believed that God would help him.
Jerome walked into the house prepared to release the burden he’d been carrying about Taylor and their daughter. It was almost ten, but he knew Renee was upstairs in her home office. Joshua was also awake and in the kitchen perched in front of the flat-screen television doing three things at the same time: eating ice cream from a huge bowl, talking on the phone, and watching the game. “ ’S up, Pop?” Joshua said, his mouth full of Chunky Monkey ice cream.
“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” Jerome laid his briefcase on the table. Joshua was a responsible eleventh grader, but it was still too late for him to be on the phone on a Tuesday night.
“The game is in overtime,” Joshua replied. He then whispered something into the receiver.
Jerome took off his coat and threw it over the back of a kitchen chair before sitting. “Who’s winning?”
“The Sixers are up by three. It’s only a minute left.”
Not a sports fanatic like his father and big brothers, Joshua was a fan of only the Philadelphia teams: the Phillies, the Eagles, and the Sixers. Being the only one in the immediate family born in Illinois, he adopted the Philly teams as his favorites as a way of bonding with his relatives.
Jerome focused on the game and listened to Joshua smooth talk the girl on the line. He smiled at his son’s “game.” Far from the player Jerome had been at his age, Joshua was more like his oldest brother. He remained in relationships for long stretches of time. In Jerome’s opinion, it was better to date several girls in high school, but Renee didn’t agree, and she was the queen of the house.
The Sixers’ head coach called a time-out, and the station cut to an M&M Halloween commercial, reminding Jerome that the end of the month was near, and it was time to send Taylor a check. In sixteen years, he had not missed a payment. It was the least he could do.
He opened his briefcase and took out a pre-stamped envelope and checkbook, both of which he kept inside a side compartment specifically for this purpose. The game came back on, and in between basketball plays, he filled out the check, adding in the memo line: Have a blessed Thanksgiving! That was the first time he’d written anything personal. In his mind, it was the first step in reestablishing contact with Taylor.
The Sixers’ star player made a three-point play, placing them in the lead, and Joshua jumped out his chair.
Jerome tried to lift his arm, but the pain from earlier returned. He jumped up, instead, anticipating victory as the seconds on the clock wound down.
“I thought I heard you come in,” Renee said.
At the sound of her voice, Jerome quickly stuffed the check in the envelope then shoved it inside his coat pocket. He prayed Renee hadn’t seen him. “Hey, babe.”
“I should’ve known you’d get sidetracked,” Renee said, plucking her son on his temple as she passed him to get to the fridge. “You two shouldn’t have anything left to say. You’ve been on the phone since I got home.”
Joshua winked and smiled then turned away from his mother to get a little privacy.
“That girl should be in bed,” Renee said as she took a pear from the fridge.
“They won!” Joshua shouted. “Now I can go to bed.” Before leaving the kitchen, Joshua turned to Fox News.
Since Renee befriended a popular news anchor at that station, besides CNN, it was the only news segment the family was allowed to watch.
Joshua put his empty bowl in the sink, and Renee popped his hand. “Dishwasher, please. You don’t have a maid in this house.” She sat in the empty chair next to her husband and put one arm around him.
Joshua put the dirty bowl in the dishwasher, said goodbye to his girlfriend, then kissed his mother good night.
“Don’t forget you’re meeting me downtown tomorrow.”
“I’ll be there by five,” he said and went upstairs to prepare for bed.
Jerome looked at his wife, her cotton shorts showcasing her healthy thighs. He rubbed her legs, slowly building up the nerve to speak. God will provide courage the very moment you feel weak, he repeated to himself.
“Everett and I are flying to Texas on Thursday,” Renee said and crossed her legs.
Jerome’s hands trembled, and sweat rolled down his back. “How long will you be there?”
“Just two days.” Renee noticed the change in Jerome’s demeanor. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” he uttered, trying to relax.
“You sure, honey? I thought I was the one going through the change, but you’re the one sweating.”
He wiped his hands on his sleeve. “Maybe I’m coming down with a cold.”
Renee touched his head, and he smelled traces of Romance cologne by Ralph Lauren on her skin. The scent made him dizzy. That had never happened before.
Renee took a bite of her pear. “Or maybe you’re letting the job get to you.”
“Just a lot on my mind, I guess. The fundraiser is tomorrow.”
“Things are going to be fine. You always do well at those events.”
Glassy-eyed, Jerome gazed at his wife. “You’re a good woman, Renee. I’m blessed to have you in my life.”
“You sure you’re okay, honey?” Renee asked, more worried than before.
Jerome stared at his wedding ring and took a deep breath. “I need to tell you—”
Ring. Ring. Ring.
“Hold on, Jay. I’d better get that. It might be one of the kids.” Renee leaped out of her seat and grabbed the cordless phone on her small desk. “Hello.” She looked at the clock on the microwave. “No problem, Melanie. He’s still awake.” Renee handed Jerome the phone and took another bite of her pear.
Curious, Jerome put the phone to his ear. In the three months that they had been working on the project, this was the first time Melanie had called his home. “Hey, Mel. What’s up?”
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Thomas, but I thought you should know. Our most valuable player was in a car accident a few hours ago.”
“Is he all right?”
“He’s fine. Only a few bruises and a dislocated arm. But I’m calling because he was supposed to be the host for tomorrow’s event.”
Jerome ran his fingers through Renee’s silky, long hair. “Thank God he’s all right. Make sure you send flowers and a card from our department.”
“What about tomorrow? We didn’t have a backup,” Melanie noted.
“Contact one of the other players, but if no one wants to, I’ll host.”
“Okay. I’m sorry for calling so late—”
“Not a problem. Glad you did.”
“Should we go over details tonight? I’ll be up for another hour or—”
Jerome cut her off again. He didn’t want to stay on the line any longer than was needed. Renee was not a jealous woman, and he didn’t want to give her a reason to be. “Why don’t I meet you at the office around seven? That should be enough time.”
“Oh, right. I forget not everyone is a night owl like me.” Melanie giggled softly. “I’ll be there at six forty-five.”
“See you then,” he replied and disconnected the call.
“How’s the player?” Renee asked and leaned on Jerome’s slightly sore shoulder.
“He’s got a dislocated arm. He’ll more than likely be benched for some time, but he’s alive.”
Renee took another bite of her pear. “We should probably head up to bed.”
Jerome agreed. The nerve he had when he first arrived home had been lost. He would have to have the talk with Renee a different day. He used the remote to turn off the television.
As Renee got up, she knocked Jerome’s coat on the floor. “I guess you missed the closet,” she said and picked up his coat.
The envelope Jerome had placed in his pocket fell out, and both he and Renee reached for it. Jerome’s heart felt like it was about to burst through his chest.
“I was looking for this,” he said, practically snatching the letter from the floor. “I need to mail it tomorrow.”
“You need me to mail that?” Renee offered.
Jerome had to think quickly without appearing suspicious. “I need to print something from work before it gets mailed. But thank you.” He put the letter in his briefcase and secured the lock. “Ready for bed?”
Renee took one last bite of her pear then tossed it in the garbage can. Together, they headed to their bedroom hand in hand like true lovebirds. He prayed Renee hadn’t noticed the small tremors of fear traveling through his body.
“I better hit the shower tonight,” he said as soon as he entered the room.
“Good thinking.” Renee hopped under the covers and grabbed a book from the nightstand that she’d been reading all week.
Jerome undressed, putting his clothes in the hamper right away. Renee had trained him and their sons well. He darted into their private bathroom and leaned against the door as soon as it closed. That was close. He thought about what could happen if he didn’t obey God.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Jerome opened the door wide enough to get a full view of his wife. “Yes,” he said, controlling his angst.
“What did you want to tell me earlier?” Renee asked.
“Oh, it’s nothing, baby. Go back to bed. We can talk about it later.” Jerome had missed his window of opportunity.
Renee walked away coolly, but after thirty-four years of marriage, she knew he was hiding something.
Jerome closed the door and started his shower. Before the water could reach a comfortable temperature, he stepped into the shower stall. As the water touched his back, he covered his face with his palm and prayed that God would spare him until the next opportunity presented itself.