Fortune & Fame: A Novel (12 page)

“And church,” Nathan said, pounding the podium, “Let me tell you that the Word of God is almighty.”

Nathan was on fire. And this was more than his usual blaze. He was doing it up for the cameras.

Mary glanced over to one of the cameramen, who had zoomed in to her husband. She was just happy to have the stupid thing off her. Personally, Mary had been hoping they’d go to that uppity ATM-in-the-sanctuary, helicopter-in-the-garage, new megachurch Jasmine and her husband, Hosea, had just opened here in Atlanta. It made sense for the show to get their church footage from there, because Mary still wasn’t completely on board. But Jasmine had shut that idea down. Mary didn’t know what it was, but something about that producer lady, Natasia, seemed to get under Jasmine’s skin. So, when Natasia had suggested shooting at Hosea’s church, Jasmine
wasn’t having it. And of course, Nathan, who had been hanging around the set every single day, stepped up and quickly offered up Pleasant City.

“It’s no megachurch,” he’d told Natasia. “But we do have a few celebrities that attend and you’ll get some great video.”

Mary had wanted to protest, but Nathan reminded her of the bigger picture, the goal that they were working toward—bringing Lewis home. In fact, that’s what he called it: Operation Bring Lewis Home.

Mary smiled. She wasn’t a fool. She knew her husband was playing this up for his moment of fame, but she was willing to do whatever it took to get her baby back.

“It’s time for Take It to the Altar!” Nathan exclaimed.

Take It to the Altar?
Now, he’d given altar call a name?

“Come lay your problems at the feet of the Lord,” Nathan exclaimed, motioning toward the altar.

One by one, several people started filing up. Mary knew some of them were just trying to get on TV because she had never seen this many people come up during altar call.

The madness of it all was unsettling.

“Sister Frazier,” Nathan said, waving Mary up, “can you come pray for these lost souls?”

Really, Nathan?
She wanted to say. But she slowly stood and made her way to the front. She did the obligatory smile since she saw the camera zoom in on her.

“Yes, yes. Come one, come all, bring your problems to the altar,” Nathan continued.

Nathan motioned for Mary to stand next to a young woman who was one of the first to come forward.

“Sister, what’s your story?” he asked, walking over to where they stood.

The woman wiped the crocodile tears that were streaming down her face. “I come today, standing in the need of prayer,” she began to a chorus of “amen”s.

She sniffed and continued. “I’m in love with a married man and he’s in love with me.”

Several people shook their heads as chatter filled the sanctuary.

“We know it’s wrong, but we can’t help it,” she continued. “And the bad part is he’s a man of God.” She looked around the church. “Not anyone at this church, though,” she added, managing a faint laugh.

Mary tensed at her words because they mirrored the ones she’d said the first time she had attended Lester Adams’s church.

“You are in the right place,” Nathan said as the camera panned over to him. He took Mary’s hand and put it in the woman’s. Something about this all seemed so wrong. It’s like they were putting on a show for the Lord.

“Sister, I’m going to let my wife, Sister Frazier, handle this because she has lived your story.” He threw his hands up. “Hallelujah! She was once where you are, crawling in the depths of despair, chasing after a married minister.”

Mary struggled to contain her expression. Was Nathan really about to put her on Front Street like this?

He ignored Mary as he continued. “My wife chose to share her shame on the altar just like you.” He turned to face the church. “Because where else should you shed all shame? Jesus says come as you are, flaws and all! Let the church say amen!”

The woman squeezed Mary’s hand tighter and she had to struggle to keep from toppling over. She couldn’t believe Nathan was doing this to her.

He turned back to the congregation. “We’re not ashamed! You got to be tested to have a testimony and my wife has been tested.” He took the woman’s other hand and held it up. “She’s like you, sister. Her blatant disrespect of someone else’s marriage vows led her down a disastrous path and even landed her in prison. But guess what? The devil is a lie! God reached
down in the gutter and pulled her up. And He’ll do the same for you!”

If Mary could have reached over and slapped her husband at that very moment, she would have. She understood what he was trying to do but she definitely couldn’t appreciate him doing it at her expense.

Nathan looked at Mary. “Sister Frazier, I’m not gonna ask you to speak out because I know how painful that time was, but I’m gonna just ask you to pray with God’s child here. Just pray that she can be delivered just like you were.”

Mary saw both of the cameras zoom in on her. She bowed her head and closed her eyes, but only because she didn’t want the cameras to capture her tears.

Nathan led the prayer, then took a few more “confessions.”

Mary was all too thankful to go back to her seat after the altar show, because that definitely wasn’t an altar call. That was a bona fide parade of fools. It’s like everyone that came up tried to one-up the person who’d come before them. She’d never seen so many people claim to be in need of prayer. The whole scenario made her sick to her stomach.

Nathan finally wrapped up the service—and only after seeing the cameramen start to pack up. Mary was seething, so she didn’t even bother waiting on the benediction. She rose and stomped back to Nathan’s study. This time, she didn’t wait for him to come into the office. Mary met him in the hallway. He had the audacity to look proud of himself.

“You know what?” Mary fumed as he approached her. “I don’t need to worry about Rachel, because you are doing a pretty good job of turning me back into the fool that I once was!”

Nathan looked shocked, like he couldn’t believe her anger. Prison had left Mary a shell of her former self, but Nathan was bringing her back to who she used to be, and she didn’t want to go there.

“Babe, what’s wrong with you?”

Mary knew that she had been passive over the past year, but this was enough to push anybody over the edge. “Are you seriously asking me that? After the way you just threw me under the bus?”

“Oh, that.” He laughed. “Sweetie, that was all for the cameras. Shoot, that woman was an actress. Pretty good, don’t you think?” He actually leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “You know we have to play it up or else we will end up on the cutting room floor.”

“So, you really hired someone to lie at the altar?” She was dumbfounded but Nathan didn’t seem fazed.

“Yep, I figured it was a great way to weave your back story in. I know, brilliant, right?”

His ambivalent attitude was making her even angrier. “When I agreed to do this, I had no idea you were going to put my business out there like that,” Mary snapped.

He shrugged indifferently, and actually seemed to be getting an attitude with her. “I’m sure you knew this was going to come out.” He squeezed her chin, then pushed past her, dismissing her. Mary’s anger got the best of her because she grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

“No! Don’t walk away when I’m talking to you. We’re not finished discu—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Nathan spun around, grabbed her by her throat, and pushed her up against the wall.

“Woman, don’t you ever put your hands on me!” he hissed.

To say she was stunned would be a major understatement. She had never seen this side of her husband.

“Y-you’re h-hurting me,” Mary said, struggling to speak as she grasped at his arm.

He actually tightened his grip as he leaned in and, in a much calmer tone, whispered in her ear, “I found you in the gutter and I hand-picked you for my vision, so you will do whatever the hell I tell you to do.”

“Pastor, is everything all right?”

Both of them turned toward the voice coming from the end of the hall. Nathan quickly leaned in and kissed Mary, then stood back and released her before turning toward one of his associate pastors.

“Sorry, Rev. Mills, you caught me and the missus making out again.” He popped Mary on the butt and grinned widely. “I just have a hard time keeping my hands off this woman.”

Reverend Mills relaxed and then chuckled. “Yeah, me and my lady like it a little rough from time to time, too.”

Nathan pulled Mary closer into a hug. She was so scared she was shaking.

“Well, just wanted to tell you that was awesome out there today,” Reverend Mills said, his voice booming with giddiness. “You said you were gonna put Pleasant City on the map and you sho’ are doing it!”

Nathan joined in his laughter. “Well, Reverend, I assure you, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

Mary struggled to fight back tears, not just because of what happened, but because his words sent chills up her spine and for the first time since she’d left prison, Mary found herself asking who was this man she had married.

N
atasia felt like she was still shaking, though as she held her hands in front of her, she could see that they were steady. Maybe she was fine now. Maybe the shaking she felt was all inside. Maybe she was just shaking because she was waiting for Hosea.

It had taken her a few minutes to calm down after her breakdown at the altar. She hadn’t planned for her meeting with Hosea to go this way; she hadn’t expected to be crying all over the place. But how she was acting wasn’t her fault. She hadn’t been prepared for the way her heart swelled when she saw Hosea walk into the sanctuary and stand behind the podium. And she certainly hadn’t been prepared for this morning’s message.

From the altar, Hosea had touched her with his words, and then at the altar, he’d held her in his arms.

Now, she tried to settle into the leather of the sofa in Hosea’s office as she waited, but she still felt as if she was shaking. It had to be the memory of what had happened just a few minutes ago that had her this way.

It had been such a release to finally say those words out loud to someone besides a doctor.

“I’m dying.”

But then, the relief came in the way that Hosea had held her, stroked her hair, and whispered that she would be okay. His actions made her cry even more, but from happiness, not pain. Hosea hadn’t known that, though, and that was when he’d rescued her, rushing her back here to the sanctum of his private office.

He’d made sure that she was sitting before he’d said, “I have to go back out there, but I’ll be right back. I have to . . . talk to my wife. Are you going to be okay here?”

She’d wanted to tell him no, tell him that after what she’d just confessed, he should stay with her and forget all about Jasmine. But all she’d done was say, “Of course, I’ll be fine.” Then, as an added measure, she’d said, “Go talk to Jasmine.”

So, he’d left her. But now he’d been gone for too many minutes. She didn’t want to be anxious, but if he was talking to Jasmine, there was no telling what she would say. He could stomp back into his office, call her a scheming, lying harlot, and throw her out.

“Please, God. Please, God. Please, God.”

She prayed that her whispered pleas would be heard and answered. He just couldn’t allow Jasmine to throw another grenade into her plans.

Natasia leaned back, rested her head on the leather, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. Then another and another, until she was filled with some semblance of peace. With a sigh, she sat up and with nothing else to do, she slowly surveyed Hosea’s office. The dark, wood-paneled walls and built-in bookcases gave the office such a masculine feeling, but the picture frames that seemed to be everywhere added the warmth.

She didn’t have to get up to see the faces that smiled back at her. Photos of Hosea’s children—his daughter, or rather
Jasmine’s daughter, who looked like she was getting ready for some kind of modeling career with the way she posed in each picture, always camera ready. Then, there was the son—Hosea’s natural son, whose pictures showed that he probably had to be shoved in front of the camera. There were dozens of pictures, chronicling their early years. And though each picture made her smile, there was a place in her heart that ached. Because these pictures should’ve been photographs of the children she was supposed to give birth to for Hosea.

When her eyes wandered to the frames on Hosea’s desk, Natasia quickly turned away. There was no need to look at pictures of Jasmine. She’d rather look at a blank wall.

The door opened . . . she took a breath.

When Hosea stepped in and smiled, she exhaled and all her leftover anxiety dissipated.

“I’m sorry I took so long,” he said.

“No, don’t be. You didn’t know that I’d be here today.” She paused. “Is everything all right?”

In that roundabout way, she was asking about Jasmine. Making sure that Jasmine wouldn’t be joining them anytime soon. But Hosea only responded with a nod. That was a good sign.

“So,” Hosea said as he unbuttoned his jacket, then lowered himself onto the sofa. It surprised her when he sat so close, but then, it shocked her when he took both of her hands in his. “Tell me,” he began again, “what were you talking about at the altar when . . .”

She waited to see if he was going to finish the sentence, but when he didn’t, Natasia finished it for him. “When I said I was dying?”

He nodded.

Natasia sniffed, fighting back fresh tears that were threatening behind her eyes. “I’m dying, Hosea.” She paused, giving those words a chance to settle. “It started a year ago. I was
diagnosed with lupus. An advanced case because my kidneys have been affected.”

He frowned. “Lupus? I’m sorry . . . I don’t know much about that.”

“Most people don’t,” she said, “because it’s not a simple disease. But to explain it briefly, my immune system is attacking my organs, my kidneys, to be exact. What I actually have is lupus nephritis, stage four, but that’s probably getting too technical, it’s probably too much.”

“No, it’s not.” He gently squeezed her hands. “I want to know everything.”