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Authors: Kim Cash Tate

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“I can't require you to join one,” he said, “but I strongly encourage it. It's only two weeks, and I believe those who make the commitment will be blessed.”

P
HYLLIS CAME OUT
of the pew and stood to the side, waiting for Dana to come up the aisle. She wanted to see her up close, hug her, let her know she was there for her. Dana and Scott were headed her way, hand in hand, but were stopped every few feet by someone else wanting to hug them.

Phyllis glanced over at Cyd, still sitting and talking with the gentleman beside her. Who was that? In the six years she'd known Cyd, she'd never seen her this engaged with a man. The two of them had whispered back and forth throughout the service, and the way his leg grazed hers a few times, there was no mistaking—a familiarity existed between them.

“You ready?” Hayes slipped on his overcoat, his body turned toward the exit.

Phyllis gave him a tentative look. She'd been trying to find a way to ask if he would join an Intimacy Group with her, but hadn't come up with the words or the courage. She'd been so hopeful when she'd first seen him, thinking his heart might be bending, if only slightly, toward God. But his demeanor throughout the service had been stiff. He hadn't uttered a single word, and the couple of times she commented on the sermon, he only pursed his lips. But he really showed himself during the applause for Dana and Scott. He only stood when most everyone else had, and even then he didn't clap. All the joy she'd felt about him being there dissipated. He was the same old Hayes.

Still, she didn't want to give up. She'd made her way to the front and briefly explained their situation to a volunteer. “Please pray for God to touch his heart,” she said. “Pray that he'll continue to come . . . and that he'll join an Intimacy Group.”

She was hanging on to the volunteer's prayer now as she answered Hayes. “Oh, I was waiting to talk to Dana and Cyd.” She waited a beat, the stress eating her up inside. “And I figured we would all sign up for a group together.” She was purposely vague as to who she hoped the “all” would include.

“All right.” He stuffed his hands in his coat pockets. “I'll get the kids and meet you at home.”

What do I say now?
She moved closer to him, playing with the strap of her purse. “So . . . you didn't tell me what you thought about what Scott and Pastor Lyles had to say.”

Hayes shrugged. “It was what I figured—Scott cheated on his wife. I'm not surprised. It's the so-called holy ones with all the skeletons in the closet. And then we had to see the big contrition act.” He smirked. “Bet he got caught. He would've never owned up otherwise.”

Phyllis looked at her husband, wishing she could see into his soul. Why was he so cynical? “Hayes, it was obvious Scott was sorry for what he did, whether he got caught or not. I don't believe it was an act.”

Hayes looked down the aisle to where Dana and Scott were talking to an older couple. “I'm not surprised about that either. We don't believe the same way about things.”

“What did you think of the pastor?”

He allowed a slight nod. “He hit the issues straight on. Who knows if he actually lives what he preaches. Probably not.” He looked around at the crowd. “These churches are all about the money the people bring in.”

Her tentativeness was waning, in favor of anger. “Hayes, how can you stand here and judge that man? You don't even know him.

Pastor Lyles is—”

From the corner of her eye, Phyllis saw Dana walking up. She was by herself, and when Phyllis looked down the aisle, she saw that Scott was talking to a younger guy whom Phyllis knew was one of his mentees.

Phyllis walked a few feet from Hayes and met her friend. Hugging her close, she said, “Dana, I was bawling when you and Scott were up there. I can't believe what you've been through.” She pulled back and looked her in the eyes. “I didn't know. I'm sorry I wasn't here.”

Dana shook her head. “No need to be sorry. I'm glad you're back, though.” She gave her a knowing look. “I could use a Daughters' Fellowship about now.”

Phyllis nodded. That's what the three of them called their potluck dinners. They liked to chat, but they wanted to make sure they spent the bulk of their time on the deep things happening in their lives. What was God doing? How were they responding? What prayer needs did they have? Calling it a “daughters' fellowship” kept them focused on whose they were—daughters of the King. “When do you want to meet?”

“This evening, if we could.”

Phyllis thought a moment. She could spend the afternoon with the kids and then be back to tuck them into bed. “Sounds good. We just have to check . . . with Cyd.” Phyllis was distracted as Scott walked past her to Hayes.

She saw Scott extend his hand. “Hey, man, it's good to see you.”

Hayes shook it and gave him a nod. “You too, man.”

Two seconds of silence felt like sixty to Phyllis. She took a step in their direction.

“Hi, Scott.” When he turned, she gave him a hug. “I know it was hard for you to do what you did today. But God used you.” His eyes held such sadness that Phyllis thought she might cry again. “I'll be praying for you both.”

“I appreciate that, Phyllis.” He tried to smile. “You're a good friend.”

Cyd had come out of the pew and said a few words to Dana as she hugged her, then went to hug Scott. When she turned to Phyllis, she leaned in close as she embraced her. “I was so excited to see Hayes here. We've got to talk.”

Phyllis sighed inside. She could never share the way Hayes had behaved during the service. “Dana said she wants to do a Daughters' Fellowship this evening. Are you available?”

Cyd didn't hesitate. “Definitely.”

“Good. 'Cause it looks like we have a
few
things to talk about.” Phyllis cut her eyes to Cedric. “Apparently I missed a lot this weekend.”

Cyd followed her gaze and frowned. “That's just Cedric.”

Phyllis raised her eyebrows. “
Just
? Mm-hmm. Plan to introduce him?”

Cedric had already begun a conversation with Hayes. Cyd walked up beside them.

“Excuse me, Cedric. Someone has suggested that you haven't been properly introduced.” She gave Phyllis the eye. “Dana and Scott you already know, but for Phyllis and Hayes, this is”—she thought a second—“Stephanie's husband's brother. How's that for a mouthful?” She chuckled. “Cedric London. He was the best man yesterday in the wedding.”

Phyllis smiled and shook his hand. She couldn't wait to hear how they'd gone from sharing wedding duties to leg grazing in the pew. They certainly looked good together.

“Hey,” Phyllis said, taking in the scene around them, “there's hardly anyone left in here.”

Scott looked around. “Everyone must have moved to the sign-up tables. Do we have our group right here?”

Cedric looked at Cyd with a playfulness in his eyes. “If I can convince Ms. Sanders here. I already asked her, and she said I couldn't be in her group.”

“Cedric!” Cyd swatted him on the arm with the back of her hand. “Why did you tell them that?”

The corners of Cedric's mouth turned up with a sly grin. “I need backup!”

Cyd stared at Cedric in disbelief. Phyllis and Dana stared at each other.

Scott, normally witty but obviously not in a witty mood, cleared his throat. “So, Cyd, were you thinking . . . What
were
you thinking?”

Cyd gazed downward, shaking her head. “Never mind. Fine. We can be in the same group.”

Cedric gave the others a satisfied smile.

Scott turned. “Hayes, you in, man?”

Hayes raised a hand partway. “Thanks, but no. I'm not signing up.”

Phyllis's heart sank.

Scott stepped closer to him. “Can I talk to you for a second?” He gestured with his hand. “Over there?”

They walked a few feet up the aisle, and the others followed with their eyes. Phyllis was worried. Whatever Scott was saying, she was sure Hayes didn't want to hear it.

Moments later the men were back.

“We've got our group,” Scott said.

Hayes put his hands back in his coat pockets. “I'm in.”

Phyllis turned questioning eyes on Scott.
What in the world did you say?

C
YD STARTED UP
the aisle. “I'm excited, Hayes. Maybe we can weave in a comparison of Greco-Roman views on marriage with biblical standards.” She smiled at him, and Hayes gave her a small one in return.

As they neared the top of the aisle, the closest door burst open and Stephanie peered in. “Here they are, Lindell,” she called behind her. She had attitude in her voice, but held the door for him nonetheless. “We were looking all over for you all.”

Cyd was taken aback. “I thought you left for your honeymoon this morning.”

Stephanie cut her eyes at Lindell as he came through the door. He went to talk to Cedric as Stephanie pulled Cyd aside.

“Can you believe he canceled our honeymoon? I was supposed to be on my way to the beach, and here I am in the tired Midwest. Girl, I am fit to be tied.”

“What happened?”

Stephanie blew out a sigh. “Last night we were in the hotel and Lindell left the suite to get some ice and some snacks. When he came back, he saw me on the laptop and asked what I was doing.” Stephanie's hand went to her hip. “I was like, ‘Why are you questioning me? We're married, but I'm still my own person.' He looked on the screen and saw I was writing an e-mail. Do you know he had the audacity to ask to see it?”

Cyd couldn't believe her ears. “Stephanie, don't tell me you were e-mailing some guy.”

“It was only Warren.”

Cyd exhaled hard. “What did the e-mail say?”

Stephanie was hesitant. “Something like, ‘I'll see you when I get back next week. I miss you.'”

“You didn't.”

“It was nothing, Cyd. But Lindell got upset, said I must still be seeing Warren. We'd been arguing about him before, and Lindell had told me to stop communicating with him. When he saw that e-mail, he blew up. Said he wasn't going on a honeymoon with a woman who'd be thinking about how much she missed some other man the entire time.” Stephanie looked over at Lindell. “Can you believe that?”

“Well, yeah. But what about airfare and hotel? Didn't he lose a lot of money?”

Stephanie sighed hard. “I think God had this whole thing set up against me. Lindell had treated us to first-class tickets—turns out we can use them for another trip. The hotel allowed us to cancel without penalty. And then he checked his voice mail and found out about this new series, said it was right on time.”

Cyd shook her head at it all. “So why were you looking for us?”

“Lindell said he was really moved by Scott's confession—” Her demeanor changed in a snap. “Could you believe Scott would do something like that? I was shocked!”

“Okay, so Lindell was really moved . . .”

“And I think he looked up to Scott before that anyway. He said he wanted to be in his group. I told him we could probably arrange it 'cause you'd be in it, too, because of Dana, and then he said that meant Cedric would be in it, 'cause Lindell could tell he's got his sights set on you.” Her eyes got big, and she grabbed Cyd's arm. “And I haven't had a chance to talk to you about that dance floor scene at the reception.”

She gave Cyd the “momma look” that usually went the other direction. “Don't say I didn't warn you. I told Lindell you wouldn't date somebody like Cedric. But he said if Cedric thinks he can't have you, he'll try all the harder. The thrill is in the chase for him, and once he gets what he wants, he'll be done.” She gave Cyd another look. “I'm just sayin'. Be careful.”

“I think you have enough to worry about. I'll be fine.” Cyd ignored the flutters inside at the reminder of the dance she shared with Cedric.

Stephanie gazed over at Cedric and Lindell. “Mm-hmm. That remains to be seen.”

Fifteen

P
HYLLIS SAT BACK
in her chair, moving her eyes in disbelief from Cyd to Dana and back to Cyd. “You're telling me you actually
saw
Scott and this woman, I mean actually . . .”

Cyd lowered her fork and gave Phyllis a pointed look. “Yes. It was awful.”

The women were gathered around Cyd's kitchen table. Potluck usually consisted of Phyllis and Dana bringing the side dishes and Cyd cooking the meat. But with the short notice, Phyllis just returning from her trip, and Dana living far short of normality, Cyd volunteered to prepare the entire meal. She said she'd keep it simple, so Phyllis and Dana were surprised to see that she'd made roast chicken, au gratin potatoes, and green beans, and even stopped to get the dinner rolls they all liked. On top of that, she'd set a table complete with flowers and candles.

Recovering from her initial shock, Phyllis took a sip of Pellegrini from a crystal water glass, another first for their dinners. “I can't imagine what happened next.”

Cyd held a forkful of potatoes. “Well, I had my little encounter with Heather.” She eased the food into her mouth.


What
?” Phyllis had lifted a piece of chicken to her mouth but put it back down. “What happened?”

Dana hadn't touched her food yet. She'd been listening as Cyd told the story, her gaze cast downward. She looked up now. “I don't think we ever talked about that part. I heard some of it, but I never got the whole story.”

Cyd leaned in, visibly annoyed by it still. “I was so stunned to see her that I said, ‘What are you doing here?'” She frowned and lifted her palms. “She had all this attitude, saying I wouldn't understand and rolling her eyes, then fixing her hair in the mirror like it was no big deal. Something inside me just snapped, and I told her she needed to leave.”

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