It was a perfect April day. The temperature was just right. The sky was a brilliant, cloudless blue. The gardens were in full bloom, and they had the place practically to themselves—hardly a tourist in sight. Shante and Max had left the intrusions of daily life behind and had escaped to the peace and quiet of the magnificent Biltmore Estate in Asheville, North Carolina. They walked in contented silence, basking in the beauty of the grounds. She bent to inhale the subtle fragrance of a perfectly formed yellow rose. He bent next to her. Their eyes met. She abruptly stood and continued strolling, leaving Max still bent at the yellow rose. Then he, too, jumped up and ran to catch up with her. They continued their silent stroll through the gardens until they came to a path leading to the Biltmore House, one of the grandest castles in the world and considered unmatched in America.
When they entered the House, Shante was immediately struck by how quiet it was. It seemed no one was making a sound, not even the few employees there. They were amazed by the sheer grandeur of the place—the architecture, the art collection, the Old World craftsmanship, the elegant furnishings—and its stupendous size (250 rooms).
They went up to the second-floor bedroom suites, each of which afforded a view of the vast estate. They went out on the balcony of one of the bedrooms and enjoyed a more sweeping view of the estate grounds and of the surrounding mountains. They were alone. Max came close to Shante and put his arms around her.
“Tay, I have something to tell you,” Max said softly.
“What is it?” she asked, hearing the seriousness in his voice.
“When we were in college, I thought you were the most wonderful woman I had ever known.”
“Thank you,” Shante said.
“Please, Tay, let me finish. I would get so nervous when you were around, I didn’t know what to do. Then we graduated and lost touch. Our lives went separate ways. We both got married. Meko died and you got divorced, and now we’re back where we started, together. You are my everything—my peace, my joy, my comfort . . .” Max stopped, seemingly unsure what to say next.
“Max, what is it? What’s wrong?” she asked, going to him and lightly, lovingly touching his back. “Whatever it is, Max, I can handle it. Are you seeing someone now?”
“No! That’s not it, Shante. I guess what I’m trying to say is I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t think you thought of our relationship that way. I mean, you don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know,” he said, both eager and afraid to hear her response.
“Is that all, Max? Is that why you’re so serious?” she laughed. “I’m not laughing at you or what you said, Max. The truth is, I feel the same way about you. I’m relieved that it’s out in the open now.”
Max walked over and pulled Shante close. Their faces slowly came together; then their lips met . . .
The alarm jarred Max awake. “Dream interrupted,” he muttered, rolling over and looking at the clock. It was six in the morning. Time to get the boys up and ready for school. It was only a dream. It was First Friday, the day he and Shante hung out together every month, and he had it all planned out. It would be just like his dream, but better. Wonder if Shante is up? On impulse, he decided to call her before waking the boys.
“Hello, this is Shante. I’m not available to answer your call. Please leave a brief message.”
I’ll just call her later. She may be in the shower and did not hear the phone ring. He leaped from the bed and read his scripture for the day, Proverbs 18:22: “Whoso findeth a wife findeth a good thing, and obtaineth favor of the Lord.” Max said a prayer and started his day feeling lighthearted and expectant. Positive thinking is the key, he told himself.
* * *
On the drive to Shante’s house, Max’s excitement about the day grew. Arrangements had been made with the Biltmore staff for a private tour of the main house, a carriage ride through the estate, lunch in a private dining room at the Biltmore Hotel, a tour of the winery, and a late afternoon snack beside the lake. Shante loved antique cars, and he was going to surprise her with a tour of an antique car museum in Asheville. He had even arranged for someone to pick up the kids. It was going to be a terrific day.
Max pulled into Shante’s driveway and found her garage door closed; it was usually up when she was expecting him. He quickly parked and hurried to the door. She did not answer the doorbell. When she still didn’t answer after a second ring, he became concerned. He got his cellphone from his car and dialed her house number. No answer. He then checked his messages to see if she had called him. There was one message from the night before.
“Hey, Max, this is Shante. I just wanted to talk to you before I boarded the plane. I’ll call you later.”
Max was perplexed. Shante usually told him when she went out of town. He reckoned something had happened and she had to leave on short notice. With all kinds of thoughts running through his mind, he quickly dialed her cellphone. Where could she be?
* * *
The ring of her cellphone awakened Shante. It was only 5:12. Who would be calling so early in the morning? “Hello.”
“Shante, where are you?” Max asked.
“What?”
“Were you asleep? I got your message. Is anything wrong?”
“Max?” she said, finally recognizing his voice. She sat up and tried to shake herself fully awake.
“Yes, it’s me. What’s wrong? I’m at your house. I got your message. What’s wrong?”
“You’re at my house? Why?”
“It’s First Friday. I had something planned for us.”
“Max, did you forget I am preaching at a women’s conference at Ray of Hope Worship Center? I’m in California. It’s five in the morning here.”
“I forgot,” Max said, disappointed. Now he remembered; Shante had told him about the conference. He realized he hadn’t even prayed with her before she left, something he usually did when she was traveling. “I forgot it was today. I’m sorry I woke you, Tay. It’s just that I had something planned, and I didn’t know where you were. I didn’t even pray with you.”
“Don’t worry about that, Max. Can we do what you had planned next Friday?”
“No, I can’t. I have a hearing, and I can’t reschedule.”
“Okay. I’m sorry, Max. I thought you knew. I would have called you earlier, but I had a lot going on at the church.”
“That’s okay, Shante. I’m sorry I woke you.”
“Don’t worry about it. I need to get up and exercise, anyway.”
“Well, I’ll let you go.”
“Max, before you go, will you pray for me?”
Max began to pray for her. She closed her eyes and listened to his smooth, deep voice.
“Shante, you have a blessed time in California,” Max said, trying to hide his disappointment.
“Thank you, Max. I’ll be home tomorrow.”
“Shante, . . . .”
“What, Max?”
“I-I, I’ll miss you.”
“Stop acting silly. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Do you have someone to pick you up at the airport?”
“I drove. My car is in the parking lot. Thanks for offering. Bye, Max.” She leaned back onto the bed, and her mind wandered to Bishop Thompson’s prophecy. At times she wished she were married. She hated traveling to preach alone. She fantasized that her husband would support her ministry and relieve some of the pressures she now faced alone.
Dressing for the fitness center Shante pushed the thoughts from her mind. She had to prepare herself for a long day of attending functions at Ray of Hope; and about the sermon she was to preach that evening.
* * *
Max hung up and wondered how he could have forgotten about her trip. He called the Biltmore Estate and cancelled his plans. “God, will this ever work out?” Max prayed. Then he remembered what Bishop had told him. It brought him no relief. However, he promised himself he would not give up on his quest for a romantic relationship with Shante. He would plan something else special for her, and he wouldn’t wait for the next First Friday to do it.