When Sunday Comes Again (5 page)

Read When Sunday Comes Again Online

Authors: Terry E. Hill

Tags: #Fiction, #African American, #General, #Urban

BOOK: When Sunday Comes Again
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“Well, unfortunately, I have seen it. I suspect most everyone in the country has seen it,” Renee replied. “And like I said, it's surreal. I don't know how you've gotten through this with such grace.”
“I can honestly say that I don't have any hate for the person who did this. My heart goes out to him, and every night I say a prayer for him. Its times like these that your faith is tested, Renee. This has, of course, tested my faith, but I know that God has a plan, and this has only increased my faith in him.”
The last words triggered a round of applause from the audience.
Renee acknowledged the audience with an affirming smile and continued. “Now, this only happened a month ago, right?”
Samantha nodded yes. “It's been just over a month, and the amount of love I have received has been amazing. Thank you, America, for all the love and kindness you've shown me,” Samantha said, smiling warmly past the camera to the audience. “Your love and the love of God are the only things that keep me going.”
More applause erupted from the now entranced audience. Samantha was everything they had dreamt a friend of Renee's would be.
The host waited for the applause to die down and then continued. “Maybe you're not in this space yet—it's been a month since his death—but when you are able to go to the space where you're able to remember the warmest place and thoughts about your husband, what do you think those thoughts will be?”
Samantha contemplated for a moment and said, “I think what I will remember the most is his kindness. Not only to me, but to everyone he met. When people talked to Hezekiah, he had this uncanny ability to make them feel they were the center of his world. That whatever they were thinking or feeling at the time was important to him, and that he really cared. I loved him deeply, and I believe he also loved me just as much. I'll miss the feeling of security you get when someone cares so deeply for you and would do anything in the world to make you happy.”
Renee followed another introspective pause with, “Do you remember the last thing you said to him or the last thing he said to you?”
“I love you.”
Renee smiled and said, “I love you. . . . Isn't that a good thing? I understand that you've been selected to replace Hezekiah as the pastor of New Testament Cathedral.”
Samantha feigned shock and quickly replied, “I could never replace Hezekiah. No one could replace him. He was a great man. He was my life. He was my soul mate, my rock, and most importantly, he was my friend. Sometimes I'm not sure if I can go on without him, but inevitably, at those lowest moments someone will say to me, ‘Don't give up, Samantha. We need you,' or ‘You can do it, Samantha. Do it for Hezekiah.' And, Renee, when I hear encouragement like that, I just . . . I get energized. They inspire me to work harder, to move a little faster, and to go on with the work my husband and I began together.”
“You are amazing, girl. Isn't she amazing?” Renee asked over her shoulder of the audience.
Their unanimous response was given in thunderous applause.
“So what's next for you, Samantha?” Renee asked.
“I'm glad you asked,” replied Samantha with a playful smile. “New Testament Cathedral is going to be bigger and better than ever.”
The audience responded as if that was just what they wanted to hear.
“We are about to complete the construction of our new campus and twenty-five-thousand-seat cathedral. The television ministry is expanding now to South Africa, Thailand, and Australia. So we want the world to know New Testament Cathedral is very much alive and growing.”
Renee stood up and said, “Wow.” Samantha stood with her, and the two women embraced. The audience stood and clapped, as if to solidify the obvious bond between the two women.
Renee raised Samantha's hand as if she were a victorious prizefighter and said above the applause, “I said it once and I'll say it again. You're an amazing woman.” She then faced the audience, still holding Samantha's hand in the air, and said, “Pastor Samantha Cleaveland, everyone. Thank you so much for being here with us today and sharing your courageous story. You are an inspiration and a role model to me and to women everywhere.”
 
 
Samantha's and Renee's skin looked radiant, magnified on the sixty-two-inch flat-screen television that hung on the wall in Cynthia Pryce's den. Cynthia sat with her feet curled under her in one of two overstuffed black leather chairs that had been positioned at viewing distance in front of the television. A pair of Fendi black suede pumps lay strewn on the floor, and the black jacket of the Dolce & Gabbana pantsuit she wore that day had been tossed casually on the back of the chair.
The curtains were fully drawn and the room was dark except for the piercing glow from the two women on the screen. The room was filled with sleek Scandinavian chairs and a well-cushioned brown leather sofa. The dark stained teak floor offered no assistance in absorbing the crystal clear voices booming from the surround-sound speakers.
The clarity made it impossible for Cynthia to miss any syllable the two women spoke. Her silky hair shifted with every disapproving tilt of her head. As their words reverberated through the room, when they shared a knowing glance, and when the audience gushed, an invisible knife was driven deeper and deeper into Cynthia's heart.
Cynthia pointed the remote as if it were a gun and pressed the trigger when the credits mercifully began to scroll across the screen. The television went black, and Cynthia was left in silence to contemplate the spectacle she had just witnessed.
Is the American public so gullible that they can't tell when someone is acting?
she questioned silently.
How could they not see her for the horrible, conniving bitch she is?
she thought, staring at her reflection in the screen.
 
 
It had been two days since Scarlett confessed to her husband that Hezekiah was the father of her daughter, Natalie. Two days of David avoiding eye contact when they passed each other in the hall. Two days of sleeping in separate bedrooms, and two days of wondering whether he would leave her life as quickly as he had come. Scarlett loved her husband, but her grief over Hezekiah's death made it difficult for her to worry about her domestic troubles.
Her sleep had been fitful, and there was no appetite. The little strength she had was used to comb Natalie's hair before school each morning and to greet her with a smile and a kiss every day after school. There were stretches of time during the two-day period that she didn't even know if David was in the house. Her thoughts rarely strayed from memories of the brief time she had loved and made love to Hezekiah, or the hurt she had endured at the hand of Samantha after she had learned that Scarlett was pregnant with his child.
David felt betrayed when he learned of the years of deception and lies. The pain was compounded by knowing Hezekiah Cleaveland had shared the secret with the woman he loved. His stomach churned when he thought of all the times he had shaken Hezekiah's hand after church with Scarlett standing by his side and Natalie in his arms.
“You outdid yourself with that sermon, Pastor,” he had said to Hezekiah on several Sunday mornings. “You've made me want to be a better husband to my wife and a better father to our daughter.”
The hurt festered in the silent home. Every time he saw Scarlett standing in the bathroom mirror or sitting and looking out the living room window, he would imagine Hezekiah groping her delicate body or making love to her in some cheap motel room. He could almost hear her gentle moans of ecstasy when he thought of Hezekiah pounding away at the woman he loved.
He wanted Hezekiah to feel the hurt he felt.
How do you hurt a dead man?
he had thought more than once.
If he wasn't already dead, I think I would kill him.
Scarlett stepped from the marble and glass enclosure after a long hot shower. Beads of warm water rolled from her dripping hair, over the curves of her breasts, around her hips, and onto the carpeted floor. The water glimmered on her naked body as she wrapped herself in a plush pink towel. The room was filled with steam, leaving only a ghostly reflection in a wall of mirrors that stood before her.
The bathroom door opened, and David stood in the threshold as she dried her hair. “Does Samantha know about this?” he asked coldly.
Scarlett jerked her head in his direction. “You startled me. Why didn't you knock?”
“Now you want me to knock when I enter my own bathroom,” he replied with a hint of irony.
“Yes, considering you haven't said a word to me in two days.”
“Correction, Scarlett. We haven't spoken to each other in two days. You haven't answered my question. Does Samantha know about Natalie?”
Scarlett wrapped her damp hair in a towel as she spoke. “I told you she did. David, don't torture yourself over this. It doesn't concern you. This is my problem. I've handled it alone up until now, and I will continue to do so.”
“What do you mean, it's your problem? You're my wife, and Natalie has been like a daughter to me.”
“I appreciate that, David, but now that you know the truth, you don't have to worry about us anymore.”
David looked confused. “How can you be so cold to me? I love you, and I love Natalie. Do you expect me just to turn off my feelings?”
“I don't expect you to do anything. I apologize if I've hurt you, but you need to understand that I did everything for Natalie, and for that I won't apologize. If you want to leave, that's up to you. I love you and I want you to stay, but I will understand if you choose not to.”
“What does Samantha have to say about it?” Scarlett did not respond. She turned her back to David and sat on the edge of the bathtub. The pain that had simmered just beneath her thin veil of confidence began to seep to the surface. She took a deep breath before she spoke. “I've already told you how she felt. She tried to force me to have an abortion. She threatened to publicly humiliate me and to say that I had seduced Hezekiah. At the time I was his assistant. She fired me and forbid Hezekiah to have anything to do with the baby.”
“So why did you stay? Why didn't you leave the church?”
Scarlett stood abruptly and walked to him. She put her hand on his cheek and pleaded, “David, please don't dig this up again. Why are you torturing yourself? This happened years ago. Hezekiah is dead, and we have each other. Why does any of this matter anymore?”
Scarlett reached for his hand, but David grabbed her wrist roughly and pushed her hand away. “It matters because you lied to me. It matters because Natalie will eventually need to know who her real father is. It matters because the Cleavelands need to pay for how they walked away from her.”
“Pay?” she asked. “I've never asked them for anything, and I never will. I've made it on my own for this long, and I will continue to do so with or without you.”
“Why do you insist on making me the bad guy in this? I'm not the one who's been lying to you all these years. I'm not the one who's been lying to everyone that ever gave a dime to New Testament Cathedral, like Hezekiah and Samantha have been doing. Remember, I'm the guy who's been made a fool of while the three of you exchanged knowing glances behind my back. I'm the one whose wife has been in love with someone else for years. You've been acting like the grieving widow all this time, and now I understand why.”
“You're not being fair, David. I love you.”
“Don't give me that bullshit,” he snapped. “You've hardly known I was in the house since he died. It was probably a relief that I didn't speak to you for the last two days.”
“Is this about money? Because if it is, I told you I survived before I met you and I'll survive after you've gone.”
“It's not about money!” he yelled with indignation.
She matched him tone for tone. “Then what is it? Is it about your ego? Are you afraid that he might have been a better lover than you? Are you concerned that his dick might have been bigger than yours? What is this all about?”
David froze in the middle of the bathroom floor. Her shocking words mingled with the thick shower steam and invaded his lungs. He didn't recognize the woman who stood before him. Although her face was distorted by the fog, he could still see her puffy eyes and sneering lips. The woman glaring at him through the mist was not the Scarlett he loved. She was not the woman whose gentle touch alone could make him forget all his troubles.
David had served as Scarlett's attorney when she divorced her first husband. The first day he saw her in his office, he knew professional boundaries were in jeopardy of being crossed. She had looked so fragile sitting across from him at the large mahogany conference table. From the moment the beautiful woman began to recount the physical and emotional abuse she had endured at the hand of her first husband, he was overwhelmed by a need to protect her and to destroy anyone that would do her harm.

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