Authors: Michelle Stimpson

Falling Into Grace (14 page)

BOOK: Falling Into Grace

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“Yes. I'm fine.”

He took the liberty of walking her outside. “You seemed a little upset after we sang. We could sing something different if need be.”

She declined. “It's not that. This is just a ... really rough couple of weeks for me.”

“I thought so.”

Suspicion rose. “What do you mean, you thought so?”

“Well, you know, urra,” he practiced his best imitation of J. J. from
Good Times
, “I've listened to you sing on that front row a time or two. And you were good.” After securing a chuckle from Camille, he continued. “But in all seriousness, tonight, you sang from another place. Whether that place was pain, compassion, gratitude, experience. Doesn't matter. When you sing from your heart and soul, people connect. That's the difference, Camille, between being talented or gifted and being anointed to minister through music.”

Who would have ever put her name and the word “anointed” in the same sentence? The thought was actually kind of spooky. People in her old church who were so-called anointed always spoke in booming voices and wore clothes from the previous generation. Plus they were usually fat, and Camille certainly didn't want to go
there
to be anointed.

“I guess I'm supposed to say thank you?”

He frowned contemplatively. “No, no. Just think about it. Pray about it.”

She managed to hoist a smile that would, hopefully, ease any reservations Ronald might have about letting her worship with the praise team. “I suppose I should also tell you that I might be singing from the point of exhaustion. All these rehearsals, you know?”

“Tell me about it. Hey, listen, I want to apologize if it seemed like I came down on you a little hard the other Sunday.”

Camille raised one eyebrow.
Seemed like?

“Okay, I
was
hard on you.” He rubbed his head.

“Why are you apologizing now?”

“I heard you really ministered to the female youth choir members at the camp. They were blessed by your transparency. I suppose I misread you.”

No, you read me right.
Camille couldn't respond.

“But you have to understand,” he went on to explain, “a lot of new members come to a big church so they can be seen or heard. You'd be surprised how many people join right after they write a book or release an album because they think Pastor Collins is going to announce their signings or CD parties.

“Don't even get me started on how many of 'em join to promote their pyramid schemes. Mary Kay. Some kind of body girdle. It's shameful.”

Camille puckered her lips in feigned consideration. “I understand.”

“Everybody wants to be in the spotlight. The other week, I was helping a family plan their funeral, asking them if they had any special requests for the ceremony. They pulled out this list of eight people who each wanted their names printed on program to sing.”

She laughed with him, genuinely now. “So what happened?”

“We cut it down to three songs on program. But during the remarks, one woman who had been uninvited to sing got up there and sang anyway!” Ronald's animated side emerged, hand motions and all. “And the worst part was, she got up there and sang âAmazing Grace,' which somebody
on program
had just finished singing!”

She had to crack up on that one. “Did you go ahead and play?”

“Had to, for the sake of everyone in the building, because after all the manipulation, the lady could
not
sing! I drowned her voice with the organ.”

Camille held herself steady by resting one hand on Ronald's arm as she bent over to laugh. “That's crazy. I didn't know there was so much drama for a minister of music.”

“You wouldn't believe half the stuff I encounter on a daily basis. At
church
. But I won't go there. The people of God aren't perfect.”

She had to agree. “I'm sure I would believe your stories. My mother was the church musician.”

“Oh, really? Whatâ”

“Daddy!”

“Hey, baby girl.”

Daddy?
Camille traced Ronald's line of sight.
Brittney?

“Hey, Miss Camille!” She hugged her fellow Fly Girl. “This is my daddy. Ooh, Daddy. This is the lady I was telling you about, from the camp.”

“Yes, I know. And you were right.” Ronald faced Camille now. “She has a beautiful voice.”

Oh, that he were talking about her face. Her body. Anything that might actually lead to a peek at
his
body.
Wait a minute.
This was Brittney's dad. Now that they were standing side by side, the resemblance was undeniable. Same eyebrows, same lips, only his had a slight moustache above them. Okay, so he was Brittney's
sexy
dad.

“Thank you,” Camille finally remembered to respond.

“Daddy, I need ten dollars.”

“For what?”

“I'm gonna buy some candy for Renatta's cheerleading fund-raiser.”

He reached into his back pocket. “Do we really need any more candy at the house?”

“It's only a little bag of gummi worms, gosh.”

Camille covered her lips. Watching them was like viewing a rerun of her own teen years; one hand on a hip in defiance, the other extended, begging for money.

Brittney faced Camille. “Ooh! You got any of your CDs?”

“I sure do.” She led them to her car. The pop of the trunk officially opened the Sweet Treats store. However, for this customer, Camille decided to give. “Here you go. This one's on the house.”

Brittney held out her hand, but her father intercepted the gift. “I'll burn the songs you can hear on a separate CD.”

“Aww! Why you gotta be so strict?” Brittney crossed her arms.

Camille felt like doing the same. Been a while since she'd been so insulted. Well, no. Actually, Ronald had done a pretty good job of it when he rightfully insinuated that she was one of the shameful ones. Still. Couldn't he have had this conversation with his daughter at home?

“Bye, Miss Camille. Thanks for the CD. I'll listen to whatever my dad lets me listen to.” Brittney gave a sarcastic grin. “See you later.” She shuffled back into the building with a single bill in hand.

Ronald spoke again when Brittney was out of hearing distance. “No offense. It's hard enough being the single father of a teenage daughter. She hears enough suggestive material on television and at school. I censor as much as I can.”

“What makes you think my music needs to be censored?” Camille rolled her neck to one side.

“I remember the Sweet Treats.” He held the case in the evening's last light and read. “âMeet Me in the Hot Tub.' âStroke It.' âBetween My Hips.'”

When he read the titles like that, back to back, there was a certain ... ring to them. “So, the titles are sexy, but they're nothing compared to what the kids listen to today.”

“All I'm saying is, I censor as much as parently possible.”

She smacked, “She's gonna go buck wild when she gets to college.”

Ronald contested, “Do you have kids?”

“No. I know girls, though. When you keep them sheltered, they don't know how to act when they leave the house.”

“Says who?” he challenged.

“Says everybody who knows anything about raising kids!”

“I beg to differ,” he half flirted.

Camille crossed her arms and asked, “And what experience do
you
have being the teenage daughter of the church musician?”

He matched her movements. “Try being the bishop's only son.”

“Then you ought to understand better than anyone else what it's like to have this see-no-evil lifestyle shoved down your throat,” she reasoned.

He paused. Gave in. “I do understand what you and probably two-thirds of the world are saying. But what I know now is that the Word is true. If you train up a child in the way she should go, when she's older, she won't depart from it. That's His promise.”

Ronald's eyes darted toward the doors again. Brittney. “The Word worked for this PK. I'm glad to know it works for MKs, too.”

Camille cast a questioning glance.

“Musicians' kids,” he joked.

She squinted. “That is so corny.”

He winked. “'Night.”

“ 'Night.”

CHAPTER 18

T
hey say prayer changes things. Alexis knew this to be true, except she never realized it could change her mind so drastically. Make her go back on her word. Perhaps that was because she'd never promised something so sneaky before, never would again.

Her hands shook as she held the cell phone. This conference call, facilitated by Tonya, should have taken place a long time ago.

“You there?” Tonya asked.

“Yeah.”

The other line rang once. Twice. “Hello.”

Tonya spoke first. “Hi, Courtney, how are you?”

“Good and you?”

“Fine. Alexis is on the line, too.”

“Hey, Lexi,” he singsonged. “Is everything all right?”

Alexis answered for both women. “Yes and no.”

“What's up?”

“We've been thinking about Camille,” Tonya ventured.

Tension rose in Courtney's voice. “What about her?”

Tonya continued, “We know what happened in the past wasn't right. She led the conspiracy to fire you as our manager and we all realize that was a big mistake.”

“It wasn't simply a mistake,” he stated. “It was a matter of greed and betrayal.”

Alexis had to acquiesce. “You're right. She was wrong. We were all wrong, to some extent. I'm pretty sure Camille realizes that now, too. I talked to her recently and ... I think it's time to let bygones be bygones.”

Nothing but silence.

“Hello?” Tonya said.

“I'm here,” Courtney nipped. “If you all want to rekindle your relationships with her, knock yourselves out. I wouldn't recommend it, but I can't stop you. From what my dad says, she's still the same old Camille, only claiming to be broke now.”

“She
is
broke,” Alexis said. “She's trying to get Sweet Treats back together.”

An all-out guffaw came from Courtney. “She's crazy.”

Tonya reasoned, “I really think she's desperate.”

“What am I supposed to do? Her problem, not mine.”

“We were thinking maybe we could record the songs you have right to again, release a remix version in the UK and Japan. With Camille singing her part,” Tonya suggested.

“No.”

“Come on. They love us overseas,” Alexis tried.

“Absolutely not.”

Alexis sighed. Ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. “It's not fair, Courtney. We're all still capitalizing on the songs, but Camille's struggling. No, she didn't record those other versions with us, but she's a big part of why the Sweet Treats were even the Sweet Treats in the first place. Some might even say she was the biggest part.”

He mocked, “Yeah,
some
like Camille herself. Look, I know my sister. She's always been stingy, always looked out for
numero uno
. Having more money doesn't fix character flaws. Matter of fact, I think we've all learned that money only magnifies the person you were before you got a dime.”

“You're correct,” Tonya argued, “but I'm having a hard time reconciling the fact that what we've done behind her back is just as conniving as what she did to you. Two wrongs don't make a right.”

“I don't feel like we've done anything wrong. Before T-Money's label filed bankruptcy, I secured the rights to songs I wrote and produced. I decided to rerecord them without Camille, which was perfectly within the law.”

“But was it the moral thing to do?” Tonya pressed.

“I have to give my sister some credit. One thing she taught me was not to mix business with family or feelings. This is business, not church,” Courtney asserted.

Alexis tried another angle. “Have you even talked to your sister lately?”

“No need to. She's got her life, I've got mine. Never the twain shall meet again.”

“Stop with the old English,” Tonya commanded. “If you've got any sense at all, you'll forgive your sister for your own sake.”

“
I
don't have a problem,” he snapped.

“Yes, you do,” Alexis agreed. “Money and singing aside, every time we bring up Camille's name, even before today, that little vein in your forehead pops out. I'll bet it's out right now, huh?”

He paused. “And if it is?”

“You need to let it go,” Alexis coaxed. “Deep down inside, you know you still love your sisterâthe good, the bad, and the ugly. If you didn't, you wouldn't get so angry. Yes, she hurt you, but the two of you need to come to terms with what happened. Just like you get upset every time you think about the past, I'm sure she feels ashamed and guilty. It's ridiculous for you two to keep this strife alive when it's only hurting you both.”

“I'm not keeping
anything
alive. It's over, all right? I don't bother Camille, she doesn't bother me. I don't wish any harm on her. If she needs a blood transfusion, I'm down. But other than that, we don't deal with each other,” Courtney defended himself. “We're not the first family members to come to that agreement, and we won't be the last. Just because you were born under the same roof doesn't automatically mean you get along.

“Furthermore, if my sister's broke, that's
her
fault. My father and I tried to get her to invest. She wouldn't listen. Now she has to suffer the consequences. You reap what you sow.”

“Well, since you brought a biblical principal into this,” Tonya bargained, “let's go there. We'll leave this whole Camille thing alone on one condition.”

“What?”

“As far as the music is concerned, you have the rights. You can pull any four girls off the streets to sing it if you want to. No one can take that away from you unless, of course, you sell those rights. I don't agree with you, but I understand and respect your position.”

“True,” he stated.

“Here's my condition. If you pray about this and find that you're okay with leaving your sister out of your life and out of future music deals, we won't bring it up again.”

Courtney exhaled. “Why do you have to bring God into this?”

“I'm just sayin', if this sits well in your heart and in your spirit, who are we to judge you?”

“I agree,” Alexis said.

“What is thisâreverse spiritual psychology?”

“It's the truth at work,” Tonya clarified. “I only want you to be honest with yourself. If you pray and God gives you peace about your stance, that squiggly line won't pulse on your head every time you hear your sister's name.”

Alexis could sense his defenses lowering, which, of course, lined up with their prayer that Courtney's heart be softened.

“Ever since you started singing with that Liza woman, you've always got religious words coming from your mouth. You remind me of my momma, you know that?” He laughed slightly.

“Well, I never met your mom, but from everything you and Camille said about her, she was a wonderful woman of God. So, I'll take that as a compliment,” Tonya accepted.

“Good, 'cause that's how I meant it.”

“We'll give you some time to think about things with your sister. Depending on the outcome of your prayer, we may or may not need to talk again about rerecording with Camille. Deal?” Alexis asked.

“Deal.”

“Good talking to you, Courtney,” Tonya said.

“Same here. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Alexis waited for Tonya to disconnect Courtney.

“Okay, it's just us.” Tonya giggled. “God is so good, isn't He?”

“Yes! Did you hear how Courtney's whole attitude changed when you brought up prayer?”

Tonya marveled, “That was wonderful. Let's keep praying. God's gonna work this out for His glory.”

BOOK: Falling Into Grace

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