Wearing My Halo Tilted (9 page)

We shook hands. I told him he would have the next manuscript soon. Thankfully, he told me an extension was acceptable. Then I was off to the ICRS floor.

Another day at the conference was even more special. Strolling alone to the African-American booth, I was able to appreciate the small things. The beautiful royal purple carpet, ushering me down each of the aisles, reminded me of what heaven would be like. Hearing my people sing praises to the King convinced me. I wanted to be fully used for him.

I had a line waiting on me. Tina was standing there along with the author relations person from the publishing company, ready to show me where to stand and start my line moving.

Tina whispered in my ear, “Look at all these people ready to get your autograph. A much longer line than yesterday. Next year, you'll be over there in a private booth. You're doing great, Shari.”

Grinning at her, I inwardly was okay that that wasn't my lot this time. I was thankful the Lord had given me a larger crowd than the day before. I didn't need to ask for me. I needed to be excited about what He'd given me.

With a gracious attitude, I had a ball. I met all kinds of people. Some that had read the book and some that had not. People that were hurting and people that were healed through the message in my book. Positive words of encouragement were coming from every person I met.

I had already done interviews the majority of the morning. Then had my meeting with Mr. Gayley, followed by my signing. It was now four o'clock and I didn't have a clue where Bryce and I were going to meet. I didn't have to figure it out either, because again he was the last person standing in my line.

Tina gave me a fierce look as if to ask what's up with this. I tried to hide my excitement but I couldn't hold back the corners of my mouth from turning upward in a really big fashion. Boy did he look good in his black jacket, white shirt that was unbuttoned, brown slacks, and some cool Stacy Adams shiny, black shoes. Bryce didn't have a stomach overlaying the belt area like my husband did. His clothes fit and they fit nice.

News flash to me . . . Shari McCray was extremely attracted to Bryce Maddox.

“So did you want a book or . . .” Tina stepped up two notches and looked at both our faces.

Quickly, I stepped in to answer for him. “Or what, what else would he be over here for?”

Ironically, her protectiveness was funny. Though she and my husband had had it out a couple of times, she was an advocate of the holy union of marriage. She was not going to stand by and watch me do something that she felt was morally wrong.

“I heard you're out of books, but I've been standing in this line, so just sign my bookmark like you did for the last few people,” he playfully teased.

“Yeah, she ran out of books a little while ago, but you still stayed in line?” Tina questioned, looking up out of the glasses she wore just for fashion. “Why is that Mr. Maddox? It's my understanding that you two talked last night, what else is there to say?”

Sounding real professional he flipped the script on her. “I brainstormed over some ideas in which I could improve her book sales for the play and I kinda wanna discuss some of that today. That's okay, right?”

Tina's whole perspective changed. “Oh, if you guys wanna talk about business, her business, that's fine by me. Go on, get moving. Call me and let me know you guys made it back to Texas.” Tina hugged me and said, “My plane leaves soon. Keep the conversation to business.”

“Of course,” I told her as I pulled away.

Before Bryce and I left the convention floor, we walked down the aisles we didn't check out the day before. Looking at some of the displays, we both were in awe of all the uplifting material that was out there for sale.

Then we came to the music side. He pointed to the new competition of up and coming hot-male artists that were flying up the gospel charts.

“I don't know if I like this,” he said, being totally vulnerable with me.

“Other people taking your spotlight?” I said, keeping the conversation real.

“Oh, see you got jokes.”

“What is it that you don't like, except the point that you want no one to outshine you?” I placed my hand on his bulging shoulder. “From what I see you have nothing to worry about.”

“Well, that's mighty kind, my lady, but I'm not sure I like this straight, rigid, Christian way of having to do everything. That's why I liked your book. It was Christian, but it was sort of—”

“What, almost secular,” I cut in.

“Yeah.”

“And I really struggled with that. It was even toned way down from the first version. It didn't get picked up for a long time because of that. You really can't walk the thin line; you have to come to one side or the other. Either your halo is on or it's off.”

He shook his head, “I disagree. I think you might not wear it straight, but at least keep it on and God is cool.”

I shook my head unsure whether or not I agreed with him. Then I stopped walking. He kept going and once he realized I wasn't beside him, he turned and came back over to me.

“What?”

“Well, I mean it's just Bryce Maddox has been this big gospel star for what, ten, fifteen years now? You can't just not sing gospel, I mean, what are you talking about? No one would let you transition.”

“I strongly believe I'll have my fans cross over with me. But there's other stuff I wanna say, other stuff about relationships that's dying to come out. My marriage is over, I'm a hurting black man, I got some things I wanna say and songs that I need to write. And every time I go to write a song to God and thank Him, I just can't.”

“Are you mad at the Lord?” I questioned, already knowing that if the answer was yes, I could understand that.

“No one ever asks me these tough questions like you do. I don't know, Shari, maybe I am.”

Bryce walked out of the facility and for the whole two-mile walk, neither of us said a word. His hotel was a couple of blocks down from the convention center and right out front we caught a cab.

“Where are we going?”

“Let's go to Disney”

“I have on a business suit and so do you.”

“We can stop off at the mall and get something new. Then go to Mickeyland. You need to unwind. Actually, we both do.”

“Bryce, I just don't have it like that, where I can go to the mall and buy a new outfit just because. I'm on a budget here. Plus, you bought me stuff yesterday. No more.”

“I'm the one that's kidnapping you and taking you to Disney, right?” he asked as I nodded. “Then let me do what I want.”

The two of us argued back and forth because I truly didn't want him to do that. He ended up swinging the car back around and letting me go upstairs to change my clothes. Fifteen minutes later, he'd come back to pick me up after he had done the same. It was a pain, but I didn't want him feeling like I owed him something by him buying me the world.

Once we both got on the first roller-coaster ride, it was like all of our troubles, disappointments, and fears were a distant memory. We just laughed, screamed, and enjoyed the rides. It had been such a long time since I had basked in the goodness of what an ordinary day could be. The only major conversation we had was when we were getting an Italian sausage from one of the vendors.

Then he made our connection more intense by staring into my eyes and saying, “You really look cute. You know that?” Bryce said.

“Yeah, right,” I dismissed.

“I noticed you've done that a couple of times. I'll give you a compliment and you'll basically call me a liar. What's going on with that?”

Sitting down and sharing fries, I admitted I wasn't truly comfortable with my looks.

“What time do you fly out?” he asked.

“Not 'til tomorrow around four.”

“Good. Well, it's six o'clock now. We're going to finish enjoying this great night and I'm going to see you at eight o'clock in the morning in your lobby.”

“Well, what do I need to wear?”

“It doesn't matter.”

At eight fifteen the next morning, I was at the spa being pampered again, and getting my legs and underarms waxed. After that relaxing treat, I went to a hair salon.

After getting acrylic placed on my fingernails, I felt good. Bryce had arranged for us to have lunch with the Disney characters. I could do nothing but laugh. He told Mickey and Minnie how little self-esteem I had.

Mickey placed his two big white palms on both of my cheeks, squeezed them tight, and Bryce said, “I agree, isn't she beautiful?” Mickey nodded his head.

“Why are you doing all this? Tons of girls would love to be here with you, and you wouldn't have to give them a makeover. From the natural eye, I think they're the model types. So why me, why are you doing all this?”

“Because from my eyes, I see something in you that I want you to see in yourself. You're beautiful, you're powerful, and you are drawing me in. Someone true who could offer something good: herself.”

“Whatever. Hand me the last French fry,” I said.

“Seriously, I think our paths crossed for some reason and I know in the pit of my gut it's a good one. I'm just not going to leave you alone until I get all that I am supposed to get out of this relationship.”

“What is it that you think you're going to get?” I kind of chuckled to him.

“What is it that you think I want?” he teased back.

A scared look came across my face.

“Oh, relax. Don't worry right now. All I want is for you to share another couple of fries with me. Sound good?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

The two of us jumped up and rushed back over to the vendor. We both had a lot to figure out in our own personal lives and our walk with the Lord. What was God trying to tell us, and could we help each other hear His voice in the other's lives. Or were we making God's voice not come through?

 

 

Riding the plane home from Orlando to Columbia after the convention, allowed so many questions to rise up in my brain. Because I saw I had a layover, I was able to extend it for six hours. Flipping my Bible to Psalms 119:18, I read one of my husband's favorite passages:
Open my eyes, oh Lord, that I may see wonderful things in Your law.

I needed direction from above. Part of the reason why I was coming home was because I felt a little guilty about what I'd been up to. Dillon had caught me out on a date. I had to just be truthful with myself. That's what it was. I had feelings for Bryce.

Whatever passage I came to, wherever my thumb led me, and wherever the Lord guided my heart, I wanted to be able to digest the Scripture; soak it up, take it in, and use it as food for my soul. I flipped over and landed in Job. Though I didn't see any particular Scripture on the page that stood out to me, I thought about Job's story and the famous Scripture Job 1:21 from that great book.

I really did need clearance for this. Was God trying to take something away from me? Was that something my marriage? Or was I totally misinterpreting all of this?

At the closing of the book, I prayed.
Father, you know my situation and I wanna do right, but I'm so confused right now. The only thing I can be grateful for is that I can be honest with You to show You just how mixed-up my brain is. My husband loves You, but I just don't know if he loves me. But the new beats in my heart are jumping for Bryce, and I don't know how I feel about Dillon either, Lord. So if I bump into him while I'm at home, I just ask that You step into that time and at least let us not go off on each other.

When I arrived at the airport, I was able to get my bags arranged so that they would go directly to the Houston airport. I was glad to be staying on the tour. Getting a chance to roll home for a minute was great as well.

I went to the Hertz counter and got the keys to the car I had reserved for the day. My cell phone never seemed to work in the airport. When I looked down to check the time, I noticed I had three messages. One was from my mom asking me what time I would be there at their house, so she could have the girls ready to greet me. She and I talked early. She thought it was a great idea for me to come home so that I could love on my kids, even if only for a few hours. She also didn't want me being home alone with my husband. I hated that my mom thought he was dangerous, but I wasn't sure. I just hate she knew so much. Maybe precaution was for the best. The Negro could be crazy, and if I could avoid any silliness I was all for that.

The second message was from my mentor, Mrs. Kindle. She was giving me a call to let me know her mom had had a terrible fall. I couldn't catch my breath long enough hoping she'd be okay. When I listened to the last message, it was her once more telling me she was on her way to take her mom to the local hospital. Being that the hospital was on the way to my home, I went straight to emergency and found Mrs. Kindle's car in the parking lot.