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Authors: Lutishia Lovely

BOOK: Divine Intervention
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31
Tomorrow
“I
t’s a tumor.”
The words Vivian uttered hit Tai like a brick. She’d been dreading this phone call and praying for something other than this outcome ever since learning that the MRI results were in and the Montgomerys were headed to the hospital for a meeting with Dr. Black. “Viv, I’m so sorry.”
Vivian didn’t even try to keep the tears from flowing. “Me, too.”
“Are they absolutely sure?”
Vivian filled Tai in on what had been discussed during the doctor visit. “We were so hoping that there was another less serious explanation for what happened that day, for why Derrick passed out. That he was seriously dehydrated, or even had pneumonia. This is the worst possible outcome.”
“Wait. Have they already done the biopsy and know it’s malignant?”
“No, the surgery is scheduled for Friday . . . three days from now.”
“Then as bad as things look, Viv, we have to stay optimistic.”
“Optimistic?” Vivian’s voice was incredulous. “Just where am I supposed to find the optimism around the fact that they’re getting ready to cut open my husband’s head?”
Tai recognized the fear in her best friend’s outburst. “I can only imagine how hard this must be for you, girl. It is only natural to be worried and upset. But these are the times when our anchor of faith must hold, and grip the solid Rock.”
There was a long pause before Vivian spoke. “Of course you’re right, Tai. But that’s much easier said than done. Last night, I thought back to the countless counseling sessions I’ve had with members facing one type of challenge or the other, all the scriptures I’d quote and biblical examples I’d use. But when it’s personal, when it’s you facing the mountain . . .
“Then you depend on friends who love you to quote those scriptures and cite those examples of when God came through. You can be still, and hear us say things like by His stripes, Derrick is healed, and that even though he walks through the valley of the shadow of death, we will fear no evil.”
“Thank you, my dear sister,” Vivian said, with a sniffle. “I really appreciate your words and your prayers. You know, I’ve never even considered life without Derrick and the mere thought is just about to drive me crazy. We often say that life is short, but when the reality of just how short it might be comes crashing in, the feeling is overwhelming.”
“Let’s stay focused on the positive, Vivian. Let’s focus on what we want, not what we don’t want.”
“Girl, that sounds like something from one of Oprah’s
Lifeclass
episodes.”
Tai chuckled. “I think that’s where I heard it.”
Vivian’s tone brightened. “I’ve been researching brain tumors on the Internet and have learned that benign tumors can almost always be successfully removed, and that patients can make a full recovery.”
“Derrick is young, healthy; and I absolutely believe that that will be his outcome—a full and complete recovery.”
“In Jesus’s name.”
The two women chatted a bit more with Tai confirming the time of Derrick’s surgery and assuring Vivian that she’d forward her flight information as soon as it was booked. After the call, Vivian continued to sit in her office, in silence, praying to God and composing herself before she rejoined Derrick, whom she’d left lounging in the great room. It had been a tough week, but the hardest part lay in front of them. Vivian knew she needed to be strong, not only for the kids but for Derrick. She meditated for a few moments, did an exercise in deep breathing, and then rose to join her husband in the other room.
“Hey, baby,” she said, walking over to the couch and sitting so that his head rested in her lap “How are you doing?”
Derrick ignored her question. “Baby, I spoke with our attorney earlier. We need to handle a little business tomorrow.”
Vivian stroked her husband’s face. “What kind of business?”
“We need to make sure our wills are in order.”
The stroking stopped. “No.”
Derrick opened his eyes. “No? What do you mean
no
?”
“I’m not going down that road, Derrick. I don’t even want to think like that.”
He sat up. “Viv, nobody gets out of here alive, baby. This is something that we probably should have handled a long time ago. This situation that’s going on with me has brought it to the forefront, that’s all.... Look, baby, I don’t plan on leaving you anytime soon. But we need to be prepared for whatever might happen.”
Well, so much for Tai’s words, the meditation, and the deep-breathing techniques. Vivian was once again wound as tight as a drum. “That may be,” she said at last, “but I’m not going to talk about wills or death or anything like that until after your surgery, until this storm has passed. I’m not going to do anything that portends any outcome other than your having this operation and coming out in divine health on the other side.”
“Baby—”
“I mean it, Derrick,” Vivian snapped. “We need to update our wills. Fine. We can do it next month. But I am not going to do it tomorrow. So you might as well call your boy and give him the news.” She stood. “And speaking of news, let’s talk to the children tonight during dinner, okay?” She didn’t wait for a response, but left and headed to the kitchen . . . where Derrick couldn’t see her silent tears.
Later that evening, Derrick, Vivian, D2, and Elisia sat around the Montgomery dining room table. Vivian had fixed tacos, one of her children’s favorite meals, rounding out the dinner with corn and rice. For a while, the room was filled with the kid’s chatter: D2 wanting to spend time with Kelvin in Phoenix (we’ll see) and Elisia wanting to dye her hair a Rihanna red (hell to the no).
“Mom, Dad, can I be excused to go play video games?” D2 asked, after finishing his fifth taco and effectively cleaning his plate.
“In a minute, son. There’s something we need to discuss with you and Elisia.” He looked at Vivian and gave an almost imperceptible nod.
“So, guys, we got back the results from your father’s MRI.” She looked at Elisia. “Do you remember what we told you an MRI is?”
Elisia nodded. “Where they look inside your body.”
“Yes,” Vivian replied.
“Magnetic resonance imaging,” D2 added. Both Derrick and Vivian looked at him with raised brows. D2 shrugged. “I asked Kelvin and when he didn’t know, we both looked it up online.”
Derrick took over. “Well, they looked inside my head and it turns out there is a tumor growing there. I’m having surgery on Friday to have it removed.”
Elisia gasped as she turned wide eyes on her father. “They’re going to cut your head open?”
Vivian placed a comforting hand on Elisia’s arm. “Yes, baby. A very skilled doctor who has performed this surgery hundreds of times is going to make an incision in his head, take out the tumor, and then sew it back up.”
“That sounds scary, Daddy,” Elisia said. “Don’t do it.”
Derrick glanced at Vivian before answering. “That’s just it. I have to do it, baby, in order to get well.”
“But if they cut you in the head, then you might die!” Elisia’s eyes filled with tears.
“Oh, shut up, girl,” Derrick Jr. said, his face fixed in a serious scowl. “Where’s your faith?” He looked at his father. “Don’t even sweat it, Daddy, for real. No weapon formed against you will prosper. Isn’t that what you’ve always told me?” The questioning look in D2’s eyes belied the bravado in his voice.
“Yes, son,” Derrick answered, clearing the tears from his throat. “I believe that I’ll be all right. This is simply a test of our faith and I will need all of you”—he looked lovingly at Elisia and gave her a wink—“to believe that God is able. In the meantime, Grandpa and Grandma have a trip planned for the four of you. . . . You’re going to Disneyland!”
“Yes!” Elisia yelled.
D2 shot daggers at his sister. “I’m staying here.” It didn’t sound like a question.
“Derrick, I appreciate your wanting to be here for your father, but believe it or not, you’ll be doing him a bigger favor by going away and having fun. It’s all about lifting our prayers to God, and having a positive, happy attitude is a part of that.” When D2’s countenance continued to be doubtful, she continued. “Maybe after this is over, you can spend that time in Phoenix with your brother that you’ve wanted.”
The family meeting continued for another hour. After that, they retired to the great room, played some board games, watched a movie, and then Derrick and Vivian tucked the children into bed.
The reverend and his wife retired soon afterward. They made love, slowly, soulfully. The words weren’t spoken, but they were physically expressed: tomorrow is not promised. With each stroke, touch, kiss, thrust . . . they made the most of the moment they had tonight.
32
Yield Not To Temptation
K
ing sat back in the cushiony leather chair that accommodated his bulky frame as he soared thirty-five-thousand feet above sea level. When Wesley Freeman offered the church’s private jet as a means to hurry to his best friend’s side, King did not hesitate in accepting the offer. Thinking about Derrick’s health had kept his mind distracted all week. And any part of his thoughts that weren’t on Derrick were dominated by Wesley’s daughter, Charmaine. She had singularly and completely been the Barbados beauty for which he had not been prepared, had not even thought about prior to this visit. The last time he’d seen Charmaine, she’d been a lanky if somewhat attractive eighteen-year-old teenager. When he’d visited the ministry five years ago, she’d been studying abroad. Their interaction before this one had been while Charmaine was basically a kid. But King would be the first to tell anyone who’d listened that the little Barbados cutie was all grown up. After buckling his seat belt and accepting a sparkling water from the flight attendant, he reclined his seat and remembered the events of the past five days.
 
“Charmaine?”
“May I come in?”
It was two days after King had arrived in Barbados, and two hours after he’d left the pulpit of His Holy Word’s Prophetic Conference: sweaty, exhausted, exhilarated. Service was uplifting and the church had been packed. After a late-night dinner at the home of a high-ranking official, King was driven back to the Freeman villa. Once again, he enjoyed the indoor/outdoor shower and had just finished a call with Tai, who among other topics had given him an update on Derrick’s condition, when he’d heard a knock on his guesthouse door.
“I’m surprised to see you here,” he finally said.
“Are you really?” Charmaine’s eyes were bright and searing, her tone as sultry as her silky pink dress. “Somehow, I believe my being at your doorstep is not totally unexpected. Besides,” she continued, “I figured a nice cup of chamomile tea would be welcomed, perfect to ensure a peaceful night’s sleep.” She held up the tray. “So are we going to stand here chatting until the water gets cold, or are you going to be a gentleman and invite me inside?”
If you want me to be a gentleman, then inside this guesthouse is the very last place you need to be!
Even as he thought this, King stepped back so that Charmaine could enter the abode. She smelled of flowers and moonlight, with her smile equaling the latter’s light. He couldn’t help eyeing how the silky dress fabric spilled over her luscious backside, and the thought of running his tongue along her long, creamy-looking legs happened before it could be censored.
Charmaine placed the tray on the dining room table and immediately went about the task of preparing two cups of tea. King walked over to the table and sat down, watching her work. A sex-filled tension filled the silence. After a moment, Charmaine gazed through narrowed eyes and long, thick lashes to ask King, “How sweet do you like your tea?”
Innocent question delivered in a way that was not so innocent.
“Fix it however you like yours.”
“Okay.”
She finished fixing the tea and, after placing the cup and saucer in front of where King sat, she sat down beside him. “My father told me that he spilled my secret—that I’ve been in love with you since I was a kid.”
King took a sip of tea. It was delicious—perfectly doctored with honey and cream. “You’re in love with an image. You don’t even know me.”
Charmaine boldly placed her small hand on top of his large one, running a nail down his thick, middle finger. “I’d like to.”
Lord, have mercy.
“You’re a young, vivacious, intelligent woman who will someday make a wonderful wife. I’m sure you have your choice of men not only here on the island, but around the world. I’m flattered at the notion that you find me attractive, but I’m more than twenty years your senior, married, and have a son just a couple years younger than you. You deserve someone who can give all of themselves to you, instead of an unavailable man with whom the most you could have is a fling.”
“Spoken like a wonderful husband and father,” Charmaine said, her voice somewhere between a pout and a purr. “They are words I’ve heard before—what my father told me and what I’ve told myself. But like I told Dad, my love for you is very real. It goes beyond the mental reasoning of what I know or don’t know about you. It goes beyond whether you’re available or not. I’m not expecting you to leave your wife, or make any commitment to me. It’s enough that you know that I love you . . . and always will.”
The conversation moved from Charmaine’s feelings to the evening’s sermon, and how idyllic life was on the island. As he finished his cup of tea, King leaned back in his seat. “It’s been a long day, Charmaine. Thank you for the tea, and the conversation. You truly are a special woman. Some guy is going to be a lucky man. And speaking of men, can I give you some unsolicited advice?” Charmaine nodded. “Don’t settle for someone who is less than worthy of what you have to offer. Committing oneself to another for a lifetime should not be taken lightly.”
“Thanks for that advice, King. May I call you King?” He nodded. “And now there’s something I’d like to give you.”
“What’s that?”
“My virginity.”
Your virginity? Good God, I haven’t had a woman able to offer me that since . . . that’s right, King—since the day more than a quarter of a century ago when you lay with YOUR WIFE.
It was the reality check that he needed in this precarious moment. “Charmaine, I’m committed to my wife, Tai, and to my family.”
“And I,” Charmaine replied, nonplussed, “am committed to you.”
The next night, the charming hostess once again brought a tray of tea. This time, however, the honey in the cup wasn’t the only sweetness tasted. When the sun rose the next morning, King had yielded to temptation and Charmaine was no longer a virgin.
 
King welcomed the flight attendant who diverted his mind’s meanderings by requesting whether he’d like beef, fish, or chicken for his dinner entrée. He also accepted a glass of red wine, a rarity in his list of drink choices but welcomed considering the circumstances. King was very much his father’s son, and had experienced his share of pastoral dalliances. And as much as he’d been committed to upholding his vows and staying faithful to his wife, he’d not been able to withstand the wiles of the island temptress. He’d thoroughly enjoyed his night with Charmaine and prayed that his adulterous action wouldn’t come back to bite him. Little did King know in this moment that the question wasn’t
if
it would come back . . . but
when
.

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