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Authors: Monica P. Carter

BOOK: Scandalous Truth
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“Look, I'm just trying to help you. I'm not the one with the broke husband and sick kid.”
Nikki touched her friend's arm. “Look, thanks. I really appreciate you for trying to help. I do. But I think there are some lines we can't cross. I'm really surprised you'd make this suggestion. Is this what being with Troy has brought you to? You really need to get rid of him because you are going down a dangerous path.”
“Don't start judging me, Nikki.” Danielle's voice shot up and heads all over the waiting room whipped around to see what was going on. She lowered her voice. “Troy is fine and I don't need you to start telling me who I should be dating. He gives me nice things and would even be willing to help you out, I'm sure. Don't act so ungrateful. It's really not very becoming.”
“This is all so stressful,” Nikki said, twisting a strand of her curly hair. She had been absent from Bible Study lately, but she knew what Danielle was suggesting couldn't be cool. “I don't want to break the law. The Bible—”
“Look, I already told you, I don't need you lecturing me on the Bible,” Danielle warned. “I know the Bible inside and out and you can't take it literally. You just use the parts that make sense and go on. You don't see anybody running around here chopping off hands because somebody stole something, or stoning somebody because somebody had a little bit of sex, now do you?”
“No, but—”
“Okay, so be quiet,” Danielle said. “I was quoting scripture before you knew what the Bible was, so I know what I'm talking about. Now, back to the matter at hand. You know William's mom is broke. His brother has too many mouths to feed and can't spare a dime. Your folks have their heads so far up your stepsister's rear end that they wouldn't be able to afford to give you any money . . . and I just don't have it. So this is probably your best option. Troy can hook you up with a way to pay for this surgery.”
Nikki opened her mouth to offer a retort, but the doctor stepped into the waiting area. She instantly forgot her argument with Danielle and sprang to her feet, hugging her arms around her body. Danielle stood at her side.
“What is it, doctor?” Nervousness made Nikki's voice come out in a whisper.
“Well, we'll want to keep her for a few hours for observation, but she is all right for the time being,” he said. “Her condition is taking a very irregular course in that it seems to be quite aggressive. I've never seen such a case in one so young.”
“What does all this mean?” Danielle barged into the conversation.
The doctor hesitated, but Nikki nodded. “She's family.”
“Well, she needs to have the surgery pretty soon, if at all possible,” he explained.
“And if she doesn't?” Danielle asked.
Nikki searched the doctor's face as she waited for his answer.
“Well, if she doesn't, she could see quite a few of these attacks,” he said. “It's taking a toll on her tiny body.”
“Oh, my baby!” Nikki wailed and Danielle squeezed her friend's hand.
Nikki knew she had to find an answer. She looked at Danielle.
Chapter 19
William's cheeks hurt from smiling so hard, as he had to do once they entered the restaurant. He knew all eyes were on the Chance party and they all had to look as if it was just any other day. Everyone was watching to see how they were handling that day's front page story. Reverend Chance looked unaffected, but William could tell Olivia was upset at the bad coverage her father was receiving.
William's eyes narrowed when he spotted Spencer seated at a corner table with Jimmy Vaughn, a folded copy of the day's newspaper among a stack of papers between them.
I bet you that's where the story came from
, William thought.
“William, this is what we'll do,” Reverend Chance said. “Let's immediately go on the offensive. I need you to schedule as much press as you can—radio, TV, print—and I will just hammer my message. We won't address this story. We will just talk about our own message. We will talk about what we will do to change this city, what we will do to help every citizen.”
“So you want a media blitz, starting now?”
“Yes, as soon as possible,” Reverend Chance said. “And don't miss an outlet. Get the black newspaper. Get the paper that ran that story. Get everybody. Try to even catch up to the political bloggers. Let's hammer our message home.”
“Daddy, don't you think we need to have other people out there instead of you?” Olivia asked. “That way, you won't be caught in the awkward position of being asked a bad or embarrassing question. If we are out there speaking for you, we can push forward your message, but not expose you to tacky reporting.”
“No, I think I should be the one out there,” Reverend Chance said, and Olivia rolled her eyes. “Olivia, I know you disagree, but this is the right course of action.”
“No, it's not!” Olivia retorted. “You keep making these wrong moves. You came clean about that gambling story, which got us into this mess to begin with. And now you want to expose yourself even more by being directly interviewed. Just listen to me. I can run this campaign and I can get you elected. But you can't keep going against every piece of advice I give you. You've got to let me do my job. You wanted me to manage the campaign. Well, let me manage it.”
“Olivia, I appreciate your management, I do,” Reverend Chance said, “but ultimately, the decisions are mine. And this is a decision I've made and it's final. I will be the one going on the interviews.”
Olivia pursed her lips but said nothing more.
“So what do we need to do to make these interviews happen?” Reverend Chance asked the table at large.
“William, I need you to get back to the office and prepare mock questions from every possible angle,” Olivia said, casting a glance at her father. “Since our candidate is going to do these interviews, we'll need to do some quick run-throughs so he can be prepared and have the right answers.”
“It'll take a while to get ready for that,” William said. “His schedule is pretty booked for today and I have to make appearances as well.”
“This has got to be priority,” Olivia stressed. “Clear the schedule for the next couple of hours and let's get this done. I want to control this message, and to do that, my dad needs to be prepared as he goes on this insane mission. I need you to pull this together now. Immediately.”
William raised his hand. “But—”
“It can't wait,” Olivia snapped. “We've got to hop on this now. We want to have the best impact we can, so we've got to move now. So let's clear his schedule and get him prepared for these interviews he is so intent on having. We can't let him go out without having gone through a series of questions, so we can properly structure his responses.”
Reverend Chance grimaced but nodded. “She's right,” he sighed. “Okay, well, clear my appointments and let's make this happen. I can't believe we're having to scramble over something that happened ten years ago.”
“Yeah, the media can be pretty rough.” William felt for his pastor. “I'm glad I've lived a pretty straight life. Some people would call it boring, but at least I know there won't be any skeletons falling out of the closet, helped by nosy reporters.”
“Yeah, keep your closet clean, William,” Reverend Chance said. “Don't do anything you wouldn't want to see on the front page of the newspaper.”
Chapter 20
Nikki ripped open the envelope. The words on the page were exactly what she had expected, but had hoped against. Their mortgage was two months late and a third month would mean serious trouble. They had been in this position once before and had to save the house from going into foreclosure.
“What are we going to do?” she wondered out loud. Their financial burdens seemed to be growing rather than shrinking. When they were in New Orleans, they weren't being faced with losing their residence. That apartment had been tiny, but at least it hadn't stressed them.
Their mortgage money had been spent on getting the Protégé fixed last month. It seemed that there was always something going wrong. Nikki looked around the large living room. The house was way more space than the three of them needed. But it was in a good neighborhood and beautiful. They had both fallen in love with it the instant they saw it. She and William had been surprised to find they could afford it. Of course, “afford it” was subjective. They had been able to get in, thanks to a zealous loan officer who provided them some creative financing—a no-money down loan. They had been able to get into the house, but Nikki was afraid they wouldn't be able to stay in it. This letter from the bank pretty much told her that.
The weight of a sick child and a pending foreclosure pressed into her, giving her a headache. Nikki rubbed her temples with her fingers.
I just don't know how we're going to handle all this
.
Nikki put the mail to the side and went upstairs to get on the computer and work on her class assignment. The hospital had sent Psalm home with her, and now, the child was sleeping soundly in her bedroom.
Nikki was finishing her paper when William walked into the house just after 9:00
P.M.
and dropped the keys on the table next to the door. She heard him enter the house, but made no move to greet him. He climbed the stairs and walked into the office.
“Hey, baby,” he said, sighing and then stooping to kiss Nikki, who continued to work on the computer. She jerked away from him.
“Hey, what was that for?” he asked.
She continued typing. “I hope you had a good day.”
“It was brutal,” he said, rubbing his neck. “We had—”
“I don't care, Will!” she said, turning away from the computer for the first time. “Your child was laid up in the hospital half the day, and could I get into contact with you? No.”
William's face registered alarm. “What happened? Did she have another episode?”
“Yes, she did,” Nikki said. “But where were you? Nowhere to be found. I called your cell phone all day. Left messages there. And I left a message at the office as well.”
William slapped his forehead. “Dag, Olivia gave me a note saying you had called,” he shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out the crumpled pink square, “but in the rush with everything going on, I forgot to call you back. I meant to.”
“So, why didn't you have your cell phone on?” Nikki demanded.
“It was on.”
“I called, Will, and it went straight to voice mail.”
“I think something's wrong with it.”
“Whatever!” she said as she got up and stalked out of the room. “I can't believe you made me go through this by myself.”
“Baby, I'm sorry.” William followed her into their bedroom. “I didn't realize you were trying to reach me. My phone—”
“I don't want to hear it!” she snapped, plopping down on the bed. “Apparently whatever you had going on was way more important than your child.”
William crossed the room in two long strides and sat next to her on the bed. “Baby, I'm really sorry I wasn't available to you. And I'll stop by the cell phone place tomorrow to get them to look at it and fix it.” He paused for a moment. “Now, tell me what happened. How is Psalm?”
He rubbed the small of her back and this time, she didn't pull away. Instead, she sucked in and slowly let out a ragged breath, then told him about Psalm's rush to the emergency room.
After discussing the day's events—both her time at the hospital and William's campaign work—they decided to take a shower and go to bed.
As Nikki stood in the shower while her husband washed her back with a soapy sponge, Nikki's mind wandered. The shower felt good, but her enjoyment was muted by pressing concerns. She knew there had to be a way to deal with these bills and this medical issue.
“Will, I really think I should go back to work,” Nikki said. “Psalm will be turning five soon and going to kindergarten.”
“Nikki, let's not talk about that right now,” William said, turning her so the spray from the shower washed the soap off her back.
She wanted to say more, but held her words. The day had been stressful for both of them. Maybe now wasn't the time to have this talk.
“I'm tired,” she said, twisting her body so the water ran over her head, but not her face. “I'll be glad to get to bed.”
“Yeah, me too,” William said. They switched positions and Nikki lathered up his sponge and began soaping him.
They finished the shower and quietly dressed for bed. William pulled on shorts and Nikki donned a T-shirt. They knelt together on the floor next to the bed, praying in silence.
Nikki's prayer was pretty brief, but she remained on her knees and waited quietly for William to finish his. Her prayers felt more like robo-calls to God these days, as she ran through the template she uttered every night, thanking God for life and asking a generic blessing for her family. As she knelt next to her husband, her mind was on the stress of bills and her child's illness. She knew it was up to her to solve her own problems. She couldn't depend on William or a God she could not see. She felt guilty at the thoughts, but she could not change them. She didn't want to change them.
From childhood, Nikki had tried to rely on others, but they had always let her down. Her father. Her mother. Friends. No, she couldn't trust anyone. She had learned that a long time ago.
When they rose from their knees, she asked William, “Do you want me to fix you something to eat? Are you hungry?”
“Nah, I'm just going straight to bed.”
“Mommy!” They both jerked into action at the sound of Psalm's voice. They raced to her bedroom.
“Yes, baby?” Nikki said, standing next to the bed. William stood in the doorway.
“I want to sleep in your bed,” Psalm said.
Nikki scooped her into her arms. “Oh, sure, sweetie,” she agreed. “Come on.”
They returned to the bedroom and all three climbed into bed. “Good night, Psalm,” William said, kissing his daughter. Then he leaned over and kissed Nikki. “Good night, baby.”
“‘Night,” Nikki said.
She snuggled next to Psalm. “Good night, little girl,” she said, and nuzzled Psalm's neck.
“Good night, Mommy,” Psalm replied before closing her eyes.
Before long, Nikki heard the soft breathing of her daughter and the heavier breathing of her husband, but sleep, for her, would not come. William was on one side, and Psalm was on the other. Listening for the slightest sound of discomfort from her child at her side, Nikki tried prayer.
God, you know I've really tried to be a good wife, a good mother. Please show me the way to fix this
.
Psalm's breath was soft against Nikki's cheek. Tears welled in her eyes. She wanted to trust.
Please heal my baby
.
 
 
Nikki raced across the living room to grab the phone, hoping its ringing had not awakened Psalm from her afternoon nap. “Hello?”
“Hey, Sister Broussard.”
“Hey, Sister James,” Nikki said. “How are you doing today?”
“Baby, I'm fine,” the head of the usher department said.
“I was wondering if you could run over here and take a few pictures for me? I'm trying to get some things ready for a presentation.”
“William has the car,” she said. “So I don't have a ride.”
“Oh, that's all right. I'll send my son to pick you up. I really need to get these done today.”
Nikki glanced at her notebook which was turned to her class assignment, then at Psalm, who was sleeping on the sofa. “Sure. I'll be happy to come.”
“Good,” Sister James said. “I knew you'd agree, so I already sent him to get you. He's on his way, so he should be driving up shortly. You're such a sweet thing. Thank you, baby.”
Nikki hung up the phone and sighed. She went into the kitchen to turn off the oven, and put back into the refrigerator the chicken she had been ready to bake for dinner. She raced to change from the T-shirt she had been wearing into a sundress, not wanting to keep Sister James's son waiting. Only a few minutes later, she heard the crunch of tires in the circular driveway out front. Nikki gently shook Psalm. “Come on, baby, we have to go somewhere.”
A groggy Psalm protested with a groan. “It's okay, baby,” Nikki purred. “Somebody from church needs some help. So we have to go. Come on.”
She hoisted the child into her arms and grabbed her keys. Her homework for class would have to wait. The doorbell rang and Nikki smiled as she answered. “Hi, David. So nice to see you.”

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