Heaven Forbid (15 page)

Passion looked at her watch. Was the second hand moving at all? It seemed like forever, but only five minutes had passed from the last time she’d looked at it. She hated that she’d been in the shower when Stan had called, but he said he’d call back in half an hour. That was almost twenty minutes ago.

Passion thought about Stan’s message and smiled. “Just wanted you to know that I got your message from yesterday. I owe you an apology too. Might be able to get a flight out early, so we can go to a belated Valentine’s dinner. Will call back in thirty…”

Thank you, God. Thank you, thank you, thank you…
Passion almost shuddered when she thought how close she’d come to making a very big mistake. She’d been just about to dial Stan’s ex-wife, Carla Chapman, when she’d received a call from out of the blue: her assistant with a very distraught church member on the phone. Passion knew the call was important; her assistant would never have bothered her otherwise. It was indeed. On Valentine’s Day of all days, the woman had just lost her mother to cancer and was furious with God. The woman’s husband had just left her last year, and she’d suffered a miscarriage the year before that. She was understandably at the end of her rope. Her mother had been this sister’s rock. Passion had ministered over the phone for thirty minutes before deciding that this was a job that needed personal attention. Helping this grieving Logos Word member took Passion’s mind off of her own troubles and caused her to rethink things once she got home. Here she was, upset about a man-made holiday that was probably overrated, when she had her health, strength, and a mother who lived. She’d prayed, asked God’s forgiveness for focusing on what she didn’t have instead of being grateful about what she had, and left a long message on Stan’s cell phone that ended with sincere Valentine’s Day wishes. And now he’d called her back. She shook her head again, thinking how close she’d come to ruining it all. Stan would have been furious if Passion had involved his ex-wife in their private affairs. True, he and Carla were amicable for the children’s sake, but Passion knew Carla’s past behavior and subsequent success still rankled Stan. And he couldn’t stand Carla’s husband, Lavon. As far as Passion could tell from the few times the four had been in the same room, those feelings were mutual.

The telephone had barely stopped ringing when Passion picked it up. “Hey, Stan!”

“Hello, Passion,” was Stan’s weary answer.

Concern replaced excitement. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m in Chicago, where I’ve been ministering to an old friend who was on his deathbed. He died a few minutes ago.”

“Oh, no!” Passion thought of the Logos Word member’s mother passing yesterday and about the saying of how death comes in threes. She relayed the news about the member, even as she offered condolences for Stan’s friend. “Did your friend have cancer too?”

“No, he had…another terminal illness.”

Passion’s brow furrowed. Something about the way Stan answered the question set her wheels to turning, and she couldn’t figure out why. But she was always pressuring him to talk to her, be with her, let her in. She didn’t want to do that now. She wanted to show him the supportive, understanding wife who would be waiting with open arms when he got home. “I know the family needs you, Stan. Just know my prayers are joined with yours—for their strength and your safe return.” Passion slowly placed the phone on the receiver and looked out the window on a clear, starless night.
Thank you, God, for my mother…and my husband. Keep me focused on what’s truly important, Lord. A men.

Stan got off the phone, rubbed weary eyes, and walked back into Eddie’s private room. They’d removed the body, but the room was still buzzing with the friends and family who’d gathered to be with him in the end, people who loved him in spite of how he died.

He walked over to Donna. “I just let my wife know that I’d be staying the night. Would you like me to come over to the house and pray with you?”

“Thanks, Stan, but no. I don’t think I’m much up for prayer tonight. We’ve been praying so hard this whole time, and Eddie is still gone. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not blaming the Lord. It’s just that I’m tired and there is so much to do. Relatives are coming in, and logistics need to be worked out. But it would be a blessing if you could stay until Saturday and perform the service.”

“What about his pastor?”

“Eddie wanted you. He didn’t tell you?”

Stan shook his head. “I’ll stop by tomorrow. We can discuss it then.” In all honesty, Stan didn’t know if he could preach his old friend’s funeral. He didn’t think some of those attending would want to hear about the wages of sin being death, when death was lying in a coffin. And he surely didn’t think he could dilute the word of God. But right now his friends needed him. And he’d be there for them, in whatever ways he could.

Bryce walked up and put a hand on Stan’s shoulder. “You all right?”

“No,” Stan honestly responded.

“Please stay with me tonight,” Bryce whispered. When Stan started to protest, Bryce held up his hand and leaned in closer. “Not like that. I have two guest rooms. I just don’t want to be alone tonight. Plus, Donna has asked me to help her plan the service. I could use your help in that regard.”

Stan gave a slight nod, and then continued to offer support and prayer to those in the room who’d receive it. Finally, he made eye contact with a tall, attractive woman who’d been eyeing him all night, and walked over to her.

“I’m Stan Lee,” he began, with hand outstretched.

“So I gather,” the woman answered, her countenance guarded. Still, she reached out and shook his hand. “Sheila Covington.”

Bryce’s ex-wife.
“You were good friends with Eddie?”

“More so with his wife, Donna. What about you? How did you two…know each other.”

Stan’s eyes narrowed. Then he dismissed her statement and blamed his reaction on paranoia. “Bryce didn’t share this with you?”

“Besides a daughter, Bryce and I don’t share much.”

“We went to school together,” Stan continued casually. “Many years ago.”

“You don’t say.”

A little of Sheila Covington and her haughty attitude went a long way with Stan, and for the first time since learning of her, he not only empathized with Bryce, but also understood why it hadn’t been hard to leave her. He looked at his watch and after a few parting pleasantries, bid her adieu. He walked over and hugged Donna, shook the hands of a few of the relatives gathered around her, and, after looking around the room again, walked out the door. Bryce had purposely left shortly after their whispered conversation. He’d meet him at the hotel, and then ride with him over to Bryce’s house, where he would spend the night. He refused to vent the myriad of thoughts running around in his head and kept focused on one and one alone:
He who the son sets free, is free indeed.
Stan had been delivered from the wiles of Satan, and with God’s help, he would withstand any snare the devil tried to set.

Sheila watched as Stan said his good-byes and then left. She’d noted that Bryce had left earlier, after the two had a whispered conversation in the corner. When it came to Bryce, even as an ex-husband, Sheila didn’t miss much. She’d always been curious about Stan Lee, the ex-roommate turned mega-minister who Bryce spoke of so highly. What Bryce didn’t know was that one day, when cleaning out some papers in a spare bedroom, she’d run across an old, yellowing letter that Bryce had written but never mailed. It was to Stan Lee and professed a little more love from one man to another than Sheila thought it should. Another time, in the heat of an argument, Bryce admitted to her that there was no way she or anybody else would ever have his heart, that somebody else already had it. Sheila believed she’d just shaken hands with that “somebody else” and wondered if Stan’s wife knew that as much as Stan had her heart, he had somebody else’s as well.

Princess rushed into her dorm room, reaching into her backpack as she did so. She’d been expecting to hear from Carla Chapman and hoped this was the call. They’d played telephone tag for a month now, but Carla had spoken to Tai, and through her, Princess knew that Carla had plans for her book beyond just being a guest on her show. Her mother had said Carla didn’t go into details but did convey how much she’d enjoyed the manuscript Praise Publishing had sent to her.

“Hello!” Princess plopped down on the bed, not even bothering to check caller ID.

“Princess Brook, are you sitting down?”

“Adele?”

Adele Simms was the head publicist for Praise Publishing. Princess had only talked to her once but had heard great things about how hard she worked to get publicity for her authors. Besides, she had this deep, raspy voice that was easy to recognize.

“The one and only. I know that Serena will be contacting you shortly, but I wanted to call right away. Do you have an agent?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Well, you’re going to need to get one. Earlier today, I spoke with Lavon Chapman, executive producer for Carla’s show.”

“She’s been trying to get a hold of me! The producers left three messages!”

“I didn’t know you knew her. Girl, you can’t be holding out with this type of valuable information. Do you know how many books you’ll sell by being on her show?”

“Hopefully I’m getting ready to find out.”

“I just hope you know how lucky you are, how most authors would kill to get the kind of publicity you’re about to receive for your debut. Princess, what’s getting ready to happen can set you up in the literary world for years to come. That’s why you need an agent. Because if you work this right, it can turn into a variety of different opportunities: speaking engagements, guest appearances, maybe even your own talk show!”

Princess’s head was spinning. She really hadn’t thought much beyond writing the book and sharing her testimony. As for speaking engagements, she’d been ministering on and off campus for two years. That would be easy. But television? Her own show? Princess felt a combination of excitement and fear.

For the next twenty minutes, Princess sat stunned as Adele shared the plans that the producers of Carla’s show had for her. The more Adele talked, the more Princess’s exhilaration and trepidation grew. Shortly after ending the call with Adele, Princess got another call. It was her editor, the woman who’d held her hand and walked her through the writing process, step by painful step.

“Serena! I just got off the phone with Adele. I can’t believe this!”

“Well, you’d better start believing it,” Serena said in her soft, calm voice.

Princess smiled as she calmed down. She’d often joked that Serena had definitely been named correctly. The sky could be falling, and Serena’s demeanor would remain serene, telling everyone as she so often did, “No matter how it looks or feels, God is in control.”

“We’ve just finished a meeting to discuss these new developments concerning your book.”

“New developments? Like what?”

“Like moving the pub date up from September to June. Put your roller skates on, young lady, because you’re getting ready to have a very busy summer.”

As soon as Princess hung up with Serena, she dialed her mother. “Mama, thank you!”

“Thank me for what?”

“For whatever you said to Miss Carla. Mama, I’m not only going to be a guest on her show, but they also want to try me out as a recurring cohost!”

“What?”
My daughter, on television?
Tai had talked to Carla but had simply said that she knew about the book and about her daughter’s testimony, and that she was very supportive. After that, the topic had changed to their husbands, and plans to try and get the Brooks to join the Chapmans in Turks and Caicos the following Thanksgiving.

“You know how Doctor Phil and those other people used to be on
Oprah,
as a cohost? Well, Carla wants to have one day a week focused solely on young-adult issues, and for that show, they’re wanting a cohost in that age range. And they’re thinking about me!”

As Tai’s surprise and delight wound down, motherhood kicked in. “What does this mean for your schooling, Princess? You still have a few months left, and this is your hardest year. Are you going to be able to handle school and this book stuff too?”

“Believe me, Mama. I’m not trying to come back here after this semester. I fully intend to graduate in June.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I think your working with Carla will be wonderful. I just want you to keep your eye on the prize.”

“I will, Mama. Most of this stuff will be happening in the summer, after graduation.”

Tai hesitated before changing the subject. She was very aware of how much Princess had matured in the years she’d been away at school. She also knew how close her daughter was to her grandmother.

“Mama, you still there?”

“Yes, honey. But I’ll let you go, okay?” Tai hung up the phone without sharing the burden that was on her heart: Mama Max had moved back to Kansas and was filing for divorce.

Princess hung up the phone. She called Joni and got her voice mail, and she knew that Sarah was studying with Joel, who was part of the male ministry team. Princess thought about calling Rafael, but his girlfriend was giving him grief about his women friends. Princess knew what it was like to have your man receiving female callers, so even though theirs was a strictly platonic relationship, she’d decided to let Rafael call her if he wanted to talk. She scrolled through her phone book, checked her e-mails, and still was restless. She could always go out and witness; there was always a student or two who would help her do that. Fact of the matter was, however, Princess didn’t feel like doing any of those things. She felt like celebrating, sharing her joy with somebody special, somebody in person. Most of the time, Princess could keep her focus on either study or God. But in this moment, although Jesus was her boo, Princess was desirous of a special someone in her life.

Princess lay back on the bed, closed her eyes, and whispered softly, “If it is Your will, God, please let me meet someone, a friend, a man who loves You as much as I do. A men.” A face flitted into Princess’s consciousness as she lay there, meditating on God. But she quickly shook away the image. It didn’t matter how much she had once loved Kelvin; he was the last man she needed to be with—now or ever.