Latter Rain (3 page)

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Authors: Vanessa Miller

BOOK: Latter Rain
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3
Isaac and Keith sat in their small office counting the church offering and reviewing bills. The irony made Isaac laugh.
He and Keith used to count money in the crack houses he'd littered throughout the city of Dayton. At that time, Isaac's only concern was fattening his pockets. Money was power, and Isaac had more than his share of both.
“So what are you doing this weekend?” Keith asked while opening the last bill.
Isaac smiled. “Picking up Donavan. I had to cancel last weekend, so Nina agreed to switch off with me.” He glanced at the imitation gold plated watch on his wrist. It was three o'clock. He was supposed to be there by now. Nina was going to kill him.
Keith whistled.
“What's up?” Isaac asked.
“Man, didn't we already purchase all the lumber MacMillan needed?”
“Last month. Why?”
Keith handed Isaac the latest bill from MacMillan Construction. “Looks like we're getting fleeced.”
Fleeced indeed
, Isaac thought as he looked at the twenty thousand dollar bill for items that had already been bought and paid for. “This dude must think he's dealing with some suckas.”
“Who is stupid enough to take the two of you for suckers?”
Isaac turned to greet Bishop Sumler as he strutted into their world. He had his priestly collar on with gray pin-striped pants and a jacket to match, with a black vest.
“Hey, Bishop,” Isaac said.
“Hey, yourself. I know that look on your face.” Bishop's eyebrow arched as he asked, “What's wrong, Isaac?”
Isaac handed over the bill. Bishop Sumler reviewed it and frowned. “I thought we already paid for the lumber.”
“Exactly,” Keith responded.
“And what's this overtime charge? Every time I drive by the site, MacMillan's workers are on break.” Bishop shook his head. “I need to call our lawyers so they can look into this.”
Isaac clenched his fists. “Where I come from, a two-by-four up side MacMillan's fat head would have ‘paid-in-fullstamped on this bill before we wasted a dime on a lawyer.”
Bishop laughed. “That would certainly get results. But I don't think we want to be the feature story on the evening news, now do we?”
Actually, it had been a while since Isaac had been on the news. He wouldn't mind a little drama about now. Something to spice things up a bit.
Keith shrugged and folded his hands in his lap. “What do you want to do about this, Bishop?”
Sometimes Keith's mouth fixed on the stupidest questions. “What do you think?” Isaac boomed. “We need to go down there and take care of this.”
“Good.” Bishop patted Isaac on the back. “You boys go handle this. But just talk to the man. Try not to let your temper flare, Isaac.”
Easier said than done, especially when Isaac was already hot.
Bishop began to walk out, then snapped his fingers as he turned back to Isaac. “Almost forgot what I came to see you about. Can you deliver the sermon on Sunday?”
Isaac was going to have Donavan this weekend. Would he have time to prepare a sermon? He looked at his watch. Already an hour late picking up his son and he still had MacMillan and five hours of road time in his way. “This is probably not the best weekend for me, sir.”
“I know this is short notice, Isaac, but I'm going to be out of town. I really need your help.”
Since he'd been an armor bearer for Bishop, he'd only preached about three times. Bishop didn't like to share his pulpit. Naturally, Isaac was honored that Bishop would share it with him. “I'll make it work. It's not a problem.”
Bishop smiled. “That's good. That's good. Oh, and Cassandra Davis will be visiting our church this Sunday. She's trying to decide whether to join our church or Bishop Marks's.”
Isaac was silent.
A devilish grin eked out before Bishop could control himself. “I told her you would take her out to dinner after church.”
The phone rang. Keith picked it up.
All the mess Isaac had gone through with Denise Wilkerson was because of Bishop Sumler's match making. After Denise, there was Stacey, the tongue talking, Holy Ghost filled stripper. Then Therese, the fire baptized got-a-mind-torun-on-and-sleep-with-all-the-preachers woman. Isaac was beginning to wonder if Bishop could even recognize a saved woman from all the imitation saints he kept trying to hook him up with.
Keith held the phone out to Isaac. “It's Nina.”
Isaac grabbed the phone, but before putting the receiver to his ear, he told Bishop, “I don't know about dinner on Sunday.”
“Well, at least meet with her after church. She would make an excellent praise leader, and you know we've been needing a praise leader since Stacey left.”
Oh, so now it was his fault that Stacey the stripper kept trying to get with him. The moment he told her he didn't want her free-will offering, she changed membership. Good riddance, and God help her new pastor. “I'll think about it, he told Bishop as he put the receiver to his ear. “Hey you.”
No hello, or how you doing. Nothing. She just got straight to the point. “Why aren't you here?”
Bishop Sumler put the bill back on his desk and walked out.
Isaac hesitated, then sat down. “Um, I got caught up.”
Smirking, she said, “Mmph, I know what that means.”
“Why are you always judging me? You don't know what I'm doing.”
“I know that you're still in Chicago. And I know that your son will be walking in this house within five minutes wondering why he wasn't important enough for his father to spend some time with him.”
Isaac looked at the papers on his desk. The MacMillan Construction bill glared at him, daring him to leave town without handling his business. “Look, Nina, I'm on my way. I just need to take care of something first. Can you tell Donavan to wait for me?”
“Like last time?”
Isaac closed his eyes and ran his hand through his wavy hair. This woman could use a refresher course on forgiving and forgetting. “I'm coming, Nina. Trust me on that.”
Isaac felt the heat of the silence that spoke volumes from Nina's end.
“I'll be there around eight-thirty, nine o'clock. Okay, Nina?”
“Don't worry about it, Isaac. I think I know how to solve this problem.” She hung up.
Isaac slammed the phone down. “She's always on me about something. You'd think I was a dead-beat looking for a way out of child support.”
“Let it go. Nina is probably just frustrated right now,” Keith told him.
“She's trippin'on something.” He picked up his keys. “Look, let's just go take care of our issue with MacMillan so I can get on the road.”
As they drove down the street, headed toward the construction site, Keith laughed. “Man, Bishop is gon make sure you jump the broom.”
Isaac shook his head. “Sometimes I wonder.”
Keith stopped laughing and looked at his friend. “What's wrong?”
Isaac scratched the itch at the top of his head. “Well, if he wants me married so bad, why does he keep hooking me up with these free-will-love-offering sisters?”
“I've wondered that myself. I don't think Bishop would know a good woman if she fell on him.”
Isaac pulled the car up to the construction site. “I wish he would introduce me to someone like Nina.” He turned off the car. “Man, who am I kidding? I wish I had Nina.”
“I know how you feel,” Keith said as his eyes saddened and he turned away from his friend. If the truth was told, Keith wished that he had met Nina first.
“That's my family.” Isaac pounded the steering wheel with his fist. “If only Nina would just let go of the past and see the truth.”
Keith was silent. Then, after mulling it over, he turned to Isaac. “You're right, man. Nina and Donavan are your family. So, be there for them.”
Isaac turned his gaze toward the construction site and sneered, “Look at him. Charging us for overtime while his crew sits on their butts.” They got out of the car and walked past the workers as they sat around waiting for day to break so they could start collecting overtime. One of the workers stood and stretched. He'd obviously had more than his share of stuffed pizza and Italian sausages.
Isaac stopped and did a double take. Besides, there was something hauntingly familiar about this man. One piercing glance later and Isaac knew. Their eyes locked. A rage boiled in Isaac. He reached toward his back for his Glock. Then he remembered that saying yes to Jesus meant giving up his weapons of mass destruction. Ah, salvation did have its limitations.
He wasn't beaten yet, though. He stalked over to MacMillan and demanded. “What's he doing here?”
MacMillan glanced in the direction of Isaac's pointer finger. “Who, Marvin? He works for me.”
“Not on this site, he doesn't. I want him gone today!”
“Come on, man. He's one of my best workers.” MacMillan saw the unyielding look in Isaac's eyes and quietly added, “He's got a family.”
Isaac sucked his teeth and stared him down.
Keith turned toward Marvin. All the workers could hear what Isaac was saying. Marvin's eyes were downcast. He bent down to pick up his lunch box and grabbed his jacket. There was something familiar about the man that Keith couldn't put his finger on.
Marvin shook a couple of his team members hands and turned to walk off the site. MacMillan hollered after him. “Marvin, don't go. You don't have to leave.”
Marvin held up a hand, but kept walking.
“Let him go,” Isaac told MacMillan.
Keith continued to watch Marvin. Even while being thrown off a job site, his walk was full of confidence and brass. A man with a walk like that was too stubborn to back down, even if the world was against him. But he had backed down, hadn't he?
MacMillan's hands flayed in the air. “Well, this is outrageous! Just outrageous.”
“No. This is outrageous.” Isaac took the paper out of his pocket and handed it to MacMillan.
“It' s your bill. He shrugged. “What s wrong with it?
Isaac pointed at a section of the bill. “Now, I'm not as educated as you are, so I'm going to need you to explain why we need to pay for lumber twice?
MacMillan stammered, “Y—you're not paying twice. We had to order more lumber. This job is going to be bigger than we estimated.”
Isaac's lip curled. “Mmph.” He pointed at another section of the bill. “How you gon' charge us overtime, when your men sit out here on break half the day?
“Come on, man. I'm doing this job for half the cost. How could you not trust me?
Isaac smirked as he told MacMillan, “I don't trust nobody but Jesus.”
MacMillan rubbed his temples. His eyes rolled upward. “Look, Isaac. The bill is legit. Now you guys can either pay it, or I'll stop construction on this church right now.”
“What did you just say to me?”
MacMillan puffed out his chest. “I said that I'll stop construction if you don't pay your bill.”
The eyes of a predator blazed fury as Isaac grabbed a fist full of MacMillan's collar. “I'm going to do you a favor and give you a second chance.” He smashed the bill in MacMillan's face. “Fleecing me is not good for your health. You sure you want to do that?”
Keith's hands went up to slow Isaac's madness. “Man, what are you doing?”
“I'm gon' knock some sense into his thieving head.”
Keith stuttered “C-come on, I-Isaac. This ain't w—what we came down here to do.”
Isaac tightened his grip. “We didn't come down here to get robbed either. I'm gon' bust his head open, then we'll see if he still thinks this bill is legit.”
MacMillan caught Keith's stuttering disease. “N—now, I—if you hit me. I—I'm going to call the p—p—police.”
Isaac smirked again. “You'll have to get to the phone to do that.”
“Come on, man. There's a better way,” Keith said.
“Shut up, Keith. The non-violence movement died when they shot Martin Luther King, Jr. Isaac glared at MacMillan. “When I get through beating you down, you won't have the strength to cheat another custom—”
“Help! Help me,” MacMillan screamed.
A couple of MacMillan's men stood up and weighed their options.
Isaac told MacMillan, “You'll be in a coma before they get me off you.”
MacMillan struggled to free himself from Isaac's death grip. “Okay, okay. Let me look at the bill again.

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