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Authors: Monica P. Carter

BOOK: Scandalous Truth
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Chapter 26
Nikki typed the last word of her graduate school assignment and logged off the computer. She was glad she had only one more semester after this long summer term. Nikki walked down the stairs to her husband, who was reclining on the couch, a sleeping Psalm on his chest. It was just after midnight.
“You didn't have to wait up on me,” she said, gently picking up the girl. “It's coming down to the wire. I don't want anything standing between me and graduation.”
William stood and stretched. “You know I don't like going to bed without you.”
“Well, I'm sorry I had to finish my assignment.”
“It's cool. I didn't mind. I'm so tired, I could have fallen asleep right there on the couch.”
“You know, I was thinking that maybe after graduation, I should go back to work full time,” Nikki said casually.
“We've already discussed this,” William said. “It's my job to take care of my family. Besides, Psalm needs you.”
“Psalm will always have my attention,” Nikki said. “But we got another notice about the house the other day. And we both know how tight our money has been.”
“Baby, how many times do we have to talk about this?”
“What good is a degree if I'm not going to use it?” Nikki prodded.
“You'll use it plenty,” William said. “There will be plenty of volunteer committees to sit on. Think about the intellectual conversations you can have. And when is the quest of knowledge simply for the sake of it a bad thing?”
“I want to do more than just show off my degree in a conversation,” Nikki said. “And what about my photojournalism degree? It's a shame not to use it.”
“Don't you take pictures sometimes?”
“Will, you know what I mean,” she said. Nikki went to the kitchen and put the last of the food in the refrigerator. In her mind, she saw her mother rushing to do her stepfather's every bidding, constantly telling Nikki that a wife's place was to obey her husband and keep the peace. Nikki, in all her teenage glory, had sworn she would never be like that. She would be fierce and independent, and if her husband didn't like what she did, well, he could just get lost. She'd never be more concerned about her husband's bidding than about her own happiness. But now, she swallowed her desires, pulled out the broom and swept the already clean floor, then wiped down the counter. William walked to the refrigerator and grabbed a soda.
“So are we going straight to the funeral tomorrow or do you have to go by the office first after we drop off Psalm at your mother's?”
“I thought I'd get there a little early, but no, I don't have to stop by the office,” William said, opening his soda and taking a swig. “I still can't believe Reverend Chance is dead.”
“I know. It all seems so unreal,” Nikki said, pulling out the ironing board they kept in the hall closet. “I spoke to him just last week when I dropped you off at the office. He was so upbeat, so positive.”
“Yeah,” William said. He stayed his wife's hand with his own. “Don't worry about ironing. I'll get that done in the morning.”
“Are you sure? We might be pressed for time.”
“It's all right. I know how you hate ironing anyway.”
Nikki smiled. That had been the longstanding arrangement since early on. William did the laundry. He insisted, after his new white T-shirts disintegrated in his hands following Nikki's first load of laundry as a new wife. He had to tell her that too much bleach wasn't a good thing. And she didn't like ironing, so he usually ended up doing that chore as well, though she did more of that now that he worked so many hours.
“Okay, thanks,” she said. “I guess we can go to bed.”
He smiled. “Just what I was thinking.”
 
 
Good thing we got here when we did
, Nikki thought as she looked to the end of the crowded pew to see a couple trying to enter. She scooted over to make room, squeezing closer to William. Not an empty seat could be found. Nikki didn't know a lot of the faces, but recognized two city councilmen, several pastors, president of the NAACP, and a senator. Her eyes widened when she spotted Spencer Cason. She quickly looked away.
Her husband saw her tense and followed her gaze. “I can't believe he showed up at the funeral!” William hissed under the funeral music. “I should go kick him out.”
“Baby, just ignore him,” Nikki whispered back. “He's just paying his respects.”
“He and his boss are the reason Reverend Chance is dead,” William said. “I guarantee they had something to do with what happened.”
Nikki nodded and didn't say another word as the funeral began. There were people even in the fellowship hall, watching via closed circuit television.
Reverend Chance's wife cried throughout the service and Olivia kept her head down. A young man in military dress—whom Nikki discovered was Reverend Chance's son—kept clearing his throat and breathing deeply.
Nikki put her arm around her husband's waist as they waited to file out of the church. William reached down and squeezed her hand.
“Let me speak to Mrs. Chance once more and make sure Olivia is okay,” William said once outside.
“Do you want me to go with you?”
“No, it's crowded. Here are the keys.” He handed them to her. “I'll be right back.”
As she turned to head to the car, she bumped into a young woman carrying a sleeping boy who looked about three or four years old. “Oh, I'm so sorry!” Nikki apologized, her hand instinctively flying out to steady the woman.
The woman smiled. “It's okay. It's so crowded, you're bound to bump into someone.”
“Yes, it's very crowded,” Nikki said. “Are you a family member of the Chances?”
The woman shook her head. “Oh, no. I just met him one time. Years ago, when I was pregnant with him,” she gestured with her head toward the sleeping boy in her arms, “Reverend Chance helped me out when I had nowhere to turn. He gave me a place to stay and helped me find a job. I just wanted to come to his funeral. It's the least I could do.”
“Wow,” Nikki said. “He touched a lot of lives.”
“Yeah, he really did,” the woman said. “But you'd never know it because he didn't brag about what he did. It makes me so mad when I read the newspaper and they are talking about all the stuff Dark did for all those rich people and never say anything about what Reverend Chance did. All they talk about is that gambling he did all those years ago.”
Nikki could see the woman was riled. “Hey, I'm sorry for getting you so upset.” She extended her hand. “I'm Nikki.”
“Oh, I'm so rude,” the woman said, adjusting the boy in her arms. “I'm Keedra. I would shake your hand but, well . . .”
Nikki smiled. “I understand. I have a little one myself, so I know what it's like to have your hands full. Fortunately, my mother-in-law agreed to keep her so we wouldn't have to bring her to this.”
“You're married?”
“Yes,” Nikki said. “My husband works—worked—for Reverend Chance.”
“Oh, it must be nice . . . being married, I mean.”
“It is,” Nikki said. “I feel really fortunate. We got married pretty young, but we've stuck it out. We're pretty solid.”
“I don't have anybody here,” Keedra said. “I just graduated from college and had to stay in town because I can't afford to move. My family members all live in Texas. And my son's dad is nowhere around.”
Nikki felt a tug inside. She could not imagine what it would be like to be alone with a baby. On impulse, she pulled out a strip of paper and wrote down her number and handed it to Keedra. “Hey, give me a call sometime. Maybe we can do something. Maybe take our kids on a play date, even.”
Keedra's face lit up. “Are you serious? Oh, that would be awesome,” she said. “Here, write my number down, too.”
She rattled it off and Nikki programmed it into her phone. It would be nice to have another friend. Maybe Danielle would want to hang out with Keedra, too.
Chapter 27
The day following Reverend Chance's funeral, William immediately got back to pressing the police for an investigation into the candidate's death. William couldn't get anything accomplished that way, so he went to the newspaper; maybe he could force the police to investigate the matter if he went public with their reticence. He asked to see Jimmy Vaughn and was stunned to see Vaughn usher Spencer out of his office.
Spencer shot William a smirk as he left. William's eyes narrowed.
“William, it's good to see you in these parts,” Jimmy said, patting him on the back. “What brings you here?”
“I want to talk about Reverend Chance's death.”
The meeting with Jimmy netted nothing that William could see. Jimmy said if William brought him proof, any information, he would have something to go on.
“I thought your job was to get the proof? Don't they call you an investigative reporter?” William asked.
Jimmy laughed but simply repeated what he had just said.
William left the office, dejected, not knowing what else to do. How could he prove his boss was murdered and had not killed himself? Reverend Chance would have never taken so drastic an action. William knew the pastor did not believe in taking a life, whether it was his own or another's. William drove aimlessly to the headquarters, and was startled to see a bunch of empty boxes waiting for him. “What is this?”
“We're getting ready to pack up the office. With no candidate, there is no campaign,” Olivia said. Her brother nodded.
“Yeah,” William said slowly, taking in the scene. “I suppose you're right. I guess it just hasn't sunk in that not only is Reverend Chance gone, but so is all his hard work.”
“Yeah,” said Oliver Jr. “It's a shame. My dad would have been so good for this city.”
“I can't believe that Lo Dark is going to get re-elected,” William said.
“That really makes me angry,” Olivia added. “I know my dad didn't kill himself. And I bet those people in the other campaign had something to do with it. They are the only ones who would have benefited from seeing my dad dead. My dad was going to beat them, and they knew it.”
“Whoa, sis,” Oliver Jr. said. “Those are serious allegations. We can't go around spewing stuff like that.”
Olivia pounced on her brother. “Don't tell me what I can say, and what I can't! You've not been the one here busting your tail day in and day out! I was the one who created that campaign. I was the one who came up with a strategy, and who worked as hard as I could to get Daddy elected. I've earned the right to say whatever I want.”
“Okay, okay.” Oliver Jr. held up his hands. “Just calm down. And stop acting up in front of company.”
“William isn't company,” Olivia said. “We've all become like family here. But you wouldn't know that.”
“Look, don't blame me for not being here,” Oliver Jr. snapped. “I had a job to do.”
“Well, if you had been here, you could have done something!” Olivia's voice rose. “You could have stopped all this. And Daddy would still be alive!”
William cleared his throat. “Hey, guys, I hate to butt in, but maybe we should all leave and come back later. There is no need to start packing so soon. Emotions are running high. Maybe we'll come back tomorrow or the next day and pack all these things and shut down the headquarters.”
Olivia sighed. “You know, he's right. I'm going to see Mama.”
William walked out with Oliver Jr. and Olivia. William got back into the Protégé and pulled onto the street, but he wasn't sure where he was going.
What do you do when your boss has been murdered and your life's mission has suddenly evaporated into thin air?
The next day's newspaper reported that with Dark's main opponent now out of the race, Dark would likely be re-elected with ease for his third term. William slammed the paper down on the couch and Nikki looked up.
“What's wrong?” she asked.
“The man isn't even cold yet and they've already moved on to talking about Dark's third term,” William said. “Don't they have any decency?”
“Well, Dark only gets a third term if he doesn't have a serious challenger, right?”
“Yeah, but in case you missed it, his serious challenger just died.”
Nikki joined her husband on the couch. “What if you run?”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“Nikki, are you crazy? I can't run.”
“Why not, baby?” She put her hand on her husband's. “Hasn't that always been your ultimate goal anyway? You were working on this campaign because you believed in the candidate, but also to get experience. How many times have you said you wanted to run for office?”
“Yeah, but—”
“There is no
but
,” Nikki said. “This is the perfect opportunity. You know the work Reverend Chance started. Why don't you finish it for him?”
William's eyes were wide. He blinked and rubbed his forehead. “Are you serious?”
“I've never been more serious,” Nikki said. “You would be the perfect candidate.”
“Well, baby, I'm too young—”
She cut him off. “Age ain't nothin' but a number.”
“And we don't have any money.”
“That's never stopped us before. You'll get out there and work dog hard to raise funds like you were doing before, only they'll be for your own campaign.” Nikki nodded in assurance.
“But we don't have enough clout yet, baby, to run for office. This is Shreveport. I know things are changing, but it's still about power and who you know—and who knows you. Nobody knows me,” William reasoned. He knew he was fishing for excuses. “According to my plan, this run would be at least another four or five years off. After the computer company was a bit more stable and I had worked in Reverend Chance's administration and we had more money.”
“Well, life rarely goes according to plan,” Nikki said. “Baby, this is what you've wanted for years.”
“We might not have time to qualify.”
“You and I both know qualifying is another few weeks off. It's the end of August right now. Qualifying isn't until, what, early to middle of September? As long as you get your paperwork in by the qualifying deadline, your name will be on that ballot for the November election.” Nikki shot down each excuse.
“I'd have to make it past the October primary election first,” William said.
“Oh, you would make it.” Nikki shrugged off the resistance. “Those other people running aren't serious contenders. The media doesn't even report on them all that much. Your focus would be the general election.”
William didn't say anything for a moment. Nikki knew she had to speak his language. “Maybe this is where you have to step out on faith,” she said. “Maybe this is an opportunity God is presenting. He wants you to continue the work the pastor started. You can do this.”
William slowly shook his head. “I appreciate the support, baby, but I don't think we're ready. We can't win an election like this.”
“Are you saying there is something too hard for God?”
A tiny voice mocked her:
Didn't you think healing your child was too hard for God, so you took matters into your own hands? Who are you to talk about faith
?
Nikki blocked from her mind that hookup and how she had paid for Psalm's surgery. That was different, she reasoned. “We must have faith.”
“Yes, I know but . . .” William's words trailed in the air.
“This is your chance, honey,” she said. “Step out on faith.”
The next day, William arrived at the office before the others to begin packing. He knew this would be hard on Reverend Chance's family, so he wanted to get much of it out of the way before they came. He was on the second box when Olivia and Oliver Jr. entered the office.
“Can we talk to you for a minute, William?” Olivia asked.
William smiled. “Sure. What's up?”
Olivia looked to her brother, who cleared his throat. “We got a call from Reverend Hicks last night.”
“Okay.”
“He wants to place another candidate on the ticket,” Oliver Jr. said. “He said we've got to have someone to seriously challenge Dark and he is willing to help find the money.”
“Okay. . . .” William said slowly, not sure where this was going.
“We think it should be you,” Oliver Jr. announced, looking at his sister.
“Me?” William's brows shot up.
“We think you should run,” Olivia blurted. “You've had almost as much face time as my dad since you were his spokesman. And you know all of the issues inside and out. Reverend Hicks is right. We can't let all of our work be in vain. Daddy wouldn't want that. The other candidates in the field are just jokes; nobody can even take them seriously. You would be the only serious competition to the incumbent. You're the only one.”
William grimaced. He just did not know. “Well, I'd have to get through the primary and then get to the general,” he said. “That's two elections.”
“Oh, the primary won't be a big deal at all,” Olivia said. “Those few challengers are nobodies. And whatever votes they would get would be so split among the lot. You'll get through the primary. And I'm sure you'll win the general. I'll see to it.”
William's mind flashed back to last night's conversation with Nikki. Could he really do this? He shook his head.
No, I can't run. I wouldn't know what to do. I don't have the experience or the money
, he told himself.
“What do you say?” Oliver Jr. said. “My family has discussed it and we're in full support of you.”
William continued shaking his head. “I don't know what to say. I'm honored that you would think of me, but really, I think you have the wrong guy.”
“Come on, William,” Olivia said, touching his arm. “You have to do it. You're our best chance. If not, Reverend Hicks will throw his money and support behind someone else. And don't you want to see my dad's work continue? There is no guarantee another candidate would feel about the community the way my dad did. And besides, we've got to have a viable candidate, someone to beat Dark.”
“I'm not viable,” William insisted. “I'm too young. I don't have any money. My company is floundering along at best. I just—”
“William, we need you.” Olivia looked into his eyes.
He saw the pleading in her eyes and looked away. “I really don't think so.”
William stepped away from the siblings and stared out of a window, watching cars pass by on the street. His thoughts were a jumble. What should he do? Could he run this race? Could he win it?
The room was starting to close in around William. Half-filled boxes dotted desks, Olivia and Oliver debated in a corner; a clock ticked loudly near his ear.
“I'll be back later,” William said abruptly, and grabbed his keys. He hopped into the car and found himself parked in his mother's driveway twenty minutes later. He knocked on the front door and heard her call from inside.
“Come on in, it's open!”
He pulled the screen door and stepped inside, immediately hit by the pungent smell of onions and greens cooking on the stove.
“Hi, Ma,” he said, bending to kiss her on the cheek as she chopped peppers.
“Boy, can't you see how hot it is in here? Get away from me, trying to kiss me,” she said. “This stove is burning up and you're here all crowding me.”
William stepped back. He opened the refrigerator, hunting for some iced tea.
“Hurry up and close that door,” Mable Broussard said. “Don't be letting all of my cool air out. You don't pay bills around here. Electricity ain't free.”
“Yes, Ma,” he said, wondering why he had come.
Mable Broussard had raised her sons hard. Life hadn't been easy for the single mother. She felt proud of herself for raising them to adulthood—a good tongue-lashing or whipping helped keep them in line. Neither son had ever been arrested, she was quick to tell anyone who listened; and one had even gone to college. She didn't like that William ran off and got himself married to a fast tail girl who surely must be the reason he was still broke. At least Mac had gone to barber school and made a nice living cutting hair. And at least Mac had married a church girl, not some heathen he had to convert.
“So what's on your mind?” she asked her younger son, casting a sidelong glance at William.
“What makes you think something is on my mind?”

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