A Younger Man (Mount Faith Series: Book 7) (9 page)

"I didn't know Anita had a friend staying here," Vanley said, sitting down on a plump cushioned chair. The back patio overlooked a mini orange grove; he could see that some of the fruits were turning brown. Obviously, Anita was rarely around to enjoy her orchard.

Carol poured some orange juice in his glass and sat down across from him, her brows raised in query. "So, are you sure you are a pastor?"

Vanley nodded. "I am quite sure."

"How old are you?" Carol asked, sipping her juice and looking at him inquisitively.

"I thought it was rude to just ask someone their age like that."

"I am rude." Carol retorted. "So how old are you?"

Vanley grinned. He could see that Carol was quite a character. Her inquisitive face had a childlike curiosity that he found appealing. Usually adults shrouded their curiosity under polite banter. Carol was obviously having none of that.

"I am twenty-five."

Her eyes widened. "I would have guessed thirty; no wonder Anita didn't want to tell me about you. You are much younger than she is."

"So, you live here or are you just dropping by?" Vanley asked, not wanting to dwell on any age related conversation.

"I am just here for a while," Carol said, "waiting for a friend of mine to return to Jamaica."

He nodded. "So how do you know Anita?"

"Long story." Carol frowned. Then she laughed. "I think she would be mortified if she knew you met me."

"She would?" Vanley asked curiously. "Why?"

"Because I belong to her forgotten past," Carol said drolly. "I swear; Anita has gotten so weird and tetchy."

Vanley's curiosity was stirred. "How was she before?"

Carol laughed. "Personality wise, reserved, but then again, you would expect that after her er...thing."

"What thing?" Vanley felt like wringing the information from out of Carol's mouth. She had paused as if realizing that she had given away too much information and was staring into space with a zombie-like expression on her face.

"Do pastors have sex outside of marriage?" Carol asked quickly.

"They are not supposed to," Vanley frowned. "That's a really abrupt change of topic."

"And you haven't... you know... gotten your groove on with Anita?" Carol asked.

"No." Vanley shook his head. "I haven't."

Carol sighed. "You are one of the good ones, huh?"

Vanley raised his brow. "You know of some bad ones?"

"Gosh, yes!" Carol laughed. "I seem to attract some really weird people, usually the bad boys. I have never had a toy boy pastor before though. Anita beat me to that one."

Vanley chuckled. "Toy boy pastor? Has a certain ring to it. You were telling me something about Anita. She had a 'thing' you said."

Carol shook her head. "If I tell you anything she'll kick me out. I really need to stay here for a while."

Vanley sighed. "I see." He was dying to know though. He was this close to hearing about Anita's secret, and from an unexpected source. He was musing so much about it that he almost missed Carol's change of topic.

"Did you know Anita means grace or favor, in Hebrew?"

Vanley shook his head. "No, I didn't."

"I researched it," Carol said wistfully. "In some Hindu cultures it's also a boy name. I was heavily into names and their meanings one time. Actually, Anita was the one who got me into it."

Carol got up and walked over to the steps and inhaled. "I am feeling so old telling you this, but," she winked at Vanley, "life is always full of surprises."

Vanley nodded. "I know."

Carol shook her head. "You have no idea." Then she switched back into Carol mode. "Do you see any gray hair in my 'fro?"

Vanley laughed. "No, I don't. Tell me more about Anita. I mean the stuff that you can tell that won't get you kicked out of the house."

"It's so sweet how earnest you are about her," Carol said, looking back at him.

Vanley leaned forward and raised his eyebrow. "Are you going to tell me?"

"Sure. Why not?" Carol had a far away look in her eyes. "I fancied myself a model back in the days. You can see that I had it, can't you?"

"You still have it," Vanley said, looking at her smooth nut-brown skin and her wide expressive eyes, her straight nose, and her plump lips that looked like they were on the verge of a smile.

"Good answer," Carol laughed, "but then again you like older women, don't you?"

Vanley chuckled. He didn't have a type; he just liked Anita. "You were saying about back in the days?"

"Well, I did some modeling for department stores mostly. Somebody encouraged me to sign up for Pulse. It was the only modeling agency in Jamaica at the time. They had an audition for a toothpaste commercial, and they wanted to use local people, so I whitened my teeth with baking soda and hydrogen peroxide. My mother suggested it." She looked at Vanley and grinned. "It works by the way…free tip, even though I see that you don't need it.

Anyhow, I went to this building…they had a few businesses there, including a school. Man! At that time they had quite a few women auditioning. I was at the back of the line because, as usual, I was late. I saw Anita walking up a flight of stairs near where I stood. I...I...," Carol stuttered, like she was searching for the right words to say, "went over to Anita and said hi. We, er...connected. You know."

Vanley nodded. "I know."

Carol grinned. "I doubt you do know. Anyway, Anita was a teacher then. She had just finished her first degree. She was twenty, young, gorgeous, ambitious, and troubled."

"Troubled?" Vanley jumped on that bit of information.

"Yup, but at the time I didn't care," Carol said. "I ignored her disquiet and unhappiness and just loved her."

"You were a good friend," Vanley said.

Carol looked at him, the far away look still in her eyes. "I am sorry, what did you say?"

"You said you loved her..." Vanley said slowly.

"Yes, yes, I did, and we were together for a full year while she suppressed her real self because I wanted her to be somebody she was not. She would have done what she wanted to do but I was in her way."

Vanley shifted in his chair uncomfortably. "Carol, you are speaking in parables."

Carol snapped out of her trance-like state. "Sorry. I just realized that I was a bad... er... friend to Anita."

Vanley glanced at his watch and groaned, "I have a three-day young ministers’ camp to go to."

"You guys sure do camp out a lot," Carol said.

"This camp is for people who are young in the ministry," Vanley said. "It's the beginning of the year; they tend to have these things regularly as a way to lay a solid foundation for the year. Could you tell Anita that I stopped by? I will call her later to check up on her. If she's asleep, maybe you can answer her phone and let me know how she is doing?"

Carol nodded. "Sure thing. Nice to meet you, Vanley. I am happy that you are one of the good ones. Keep it up."

*****

Vanley spent all three days of the young ministers’ camp in an uncomfortable mode. What did everybody know about Anita that was such a big deal? If someone would just tell him what it was, then it would not be such a big deal. First, Anita made it out to be some kind of huge event and then his uncle practically begged him to stay away from her.

In his head, he ran through the conversation he had with Carol, hoping to make sense of her cryptic statement. It was making him feel increasingly curious, and to be honest, apprehensive. What could be so bad? What had made Anita so down and troubled as Carol had implied?

He had business to attend to at Mount Faith University the day after the camp: it was a counseling session with a young man he was working with from his days as an intern pastor at the university. He had talked him out of committing suicide a year ago, and he made it a point of duty to stay in touch with him.

He parked his car in the spot reserved for the pastor and entered the spacious church vestry. He saw Pastor Peterson, his half-gray head bent over a computer at his secretary's desk.

"What's wrong?" he asked Pastor Peterson, "Geneva not in today?"

"Hey, Vanley," Pastor Peterson looked up at him and smiled. "Geneva is sick with the flu, and I am trying to find a letter that she has on here."

"Flu seems to be going around," he said sitting down in a chair across from his friend and mentor.

Pastor Peterson nodded. "It's that time of the year, when the Mount Faith Campus gets it badly." He tapped his finger at the side of his cheek. "I am forgetting something. Oh, your appointment called." He looked down at some post-it notes that he had in front of him. "He couldn't make it today."

Vanley nodded. "I hope he doesn't have the flu as well."

Pastor Peterson finally found the email and then he looked up at Vanley. "I can sense that something is wrong; you look troubled. You are even twiddling your thumbs…want to have a counseling session instead of conducting one?"

"No," Vanley said. "I am just mulling over something about Anita."

Peterson shook his head. "Vanley, you fasted and prayed about her and a possible relationship. You remember?"

Vanley nodded. "Of course I remember."

"You asked God that if she was the one then let her soften toward you."

"And she is softening now," Vanley said, feeling slightly frustrated. Was she really or was she playing with him?

"That prayer and fasting was three years ago." The pastor shook his head. "I think you got your answer then."

"But," Vanley sighed. "I just can't let it go."

"The Bible says ‘Lean not unto your own understanding,’" Peterson said, putting on his glasses, which were at the side of the computer.

Vanley sighed. "Easier said than done." He got up. "Now that my lunch time is free, I should go to lunch."

"Take that girl. What's her name?" Pastor Peterson was peering closely at the computer screen.

"Davia," Vanley said, regretting that he had entered into that stupid deal with his uncle, and regretting that he told Pastor Peterson about Davia. Why couldn't he hear the secret about Anita without having to stretch himself into pretending to care for Davia?

He hadn't seen her in two weeks. He had been visiting other churches because of his commitments to preach elsewhere and had not gone to the Sunday and Wednesday night meetings. He didn't miss her and hadn't thought about her. He had been so caught up in all of the cloak and dagger stuff regarding Anita that he hadn't even spared a thought for Davia. He walked to the president's building intending to ask his uncle, once again, about the big secret.

When he reached the steps, he saw a girl coming down, her long hair waving in the breeze while she walked. She was in a black suit that fitted her well, and red high-heeled shoes. She looked familiar to him. When she drew near and smiled, he realized that it was Davia.

"Davia!" he ran his eyes over her in dazed appreciation. She had almost sauntered past him in that model glide of hers. When had she developed a model glide?

Davia looked at Vanley, feigning a detachment she was far from feeling. She watched as his eyes ran over her appreciatively and smiled inwardly.

"Oh, hello, Pastor Vanley. How are you doing?"
Did that sound bored enough for him?
She fretted in her head. It obviously did, because Vanley looked taken aback by the nonchalance he heard in her voice.

"I've been great. Going out for lunch?"

Davia nodded. "Yes, and I am going to take a long one, no boss to report to today."

"Want some company?" Vanley asked. His uncle and the secret could wait for another day. This change in Davia needed to be explored.

"Why not?" Davia asked in her new nonchalant voice.

Vanley raised his lips in a half-smile. To him she sounded militant, and looked so different—more sophisticated. What had she done in the past two weeks? He looked her over as he walked beside her on the way to the cafeteria. Her hair was different: it was straighter. Her nails were manicured. Her clothes were different as well: they emphasized her figure.

"What happened to you?" he blurted out as they walked towards the cafeteria.

Davia smiled. "I decided to look my age."

Vanley grinned. "Well, you certainly have made that point. You look great."

Davia looked in his direction and gave him a half-smile. Her hair rippled with the movement. It caught his eye and had him looking at it with admiration. He liked this new Davia. She appeared more mature and obviously gorgeous.

"Do you like my new hair?" Davia asked softly. "Anita wears hers relaxed."

Vanley looked at her curiously. "You are trying to copy Anita?"

"Yes," Davia said simply.
She has you wrapped around her little finger why shouldn't I?
Of course, she didn't say that aloud.

"Why?" Vanley asked, looking Davia in the eyes. In heels, they were almost the same height.