A Love So Deep (24 page)

Settled in his comfortable chair, the phone cradled in the curve of his neck, Graham flipped the television channels until he came to the baseball game. The Oakland A’s vs. the Rangers; this was the game to watch. He hung up the phone. After three tries, Rita’s line was still busy.

I
t
was Sunday morning, a day when many hearts and minds would turn toward God. Fragments of light filtered through the blinds—Graham was thankful for the light of day. He had awakened from a paralyzing dream with chills and a thin veil of sweat coating his forehead and chest. Amanda was looking down on him, flashing an elongated index finger at him—a warning rather than a forget-me-not.

Graham grabbed at his throat, struggling to disengage himself from some unforeseen force that had him bound. Amanda had appeared at the tail end of his dream, and after her admonishment, she evaporated like water on a sidewalk under a one-hundred-degree Hawaiian sun. Pulling the sheets from the bed, Graham wrapped himself in hopes of calming his chattering teeth.

What did it mean? Graham looked at the clock. It was 6:45. Rita would be boarding her plane shortly. He hadn’t been able to reach her at the hotel, and she hadn’t called, either. Graham gave her space, choosing to feast upon the memories of the day stuck to him like a sticky lollipop. They had consummated their friendship with more than a gentle peck on the lips, and it had consumed Graham in fires of passion he hadn’t felt in a while. So much so, he slipped into a deep sleep, missing the A’s topple the Rangers in a ninth-inning, come-from-behind grand-slam hit by Canseco.

Graham sat up, looked at the phone, resisted. She would call; he could depend on it. Seconds then minutes passed and pent-up emotions flooded his psyche, recalling moments that caused Graham to wonder if Rita was holding back something from him. It nagged at him, even Rita’s explanation. Her pronounced agitation on last evening wasn’t lost on him. Had Amanda been trying to warn him about Rita?

A smile found Graham’s face. It was 6:29, and the sound of the phone ringing became music to his ears. A quick goodbye and a sweet sensual telephone kiss passed between them—Rita vowing to give Graham a call when the plane had landed safely in Seattle.

Graham bounded out of bed and unwrapped himself from the tangled sheets. He picked up the radio from the nightstand and tuned it to station KDIA—the Bay Area’s own gospel on Sunday mornings. He and Amanda had shared many Sunday mornings with KDIA’s own Al Moreland who would invite folks to come down to Pearl’s Grill for some Louisiana coon. And he could spin the meanest gospel hits—James Cleveland, Jesse Dixon, the Dixie Hummingbirds, and The Mighty Clouds of Joy. God rest his soul, Al had gone on to be with the Lord some years back.

Yes, Graham was going to church today. He’d show those two-faced church folks that whatever they thought of him didn’t matter. His business was between him and God. He felt good today, and he was going to give the Lord the time He deserved. Maybe that was what Amanda was doing—admonishing him to go to the house of the Lord because he had strayed a little.

Thoughts of Deborah and Elizabeth clouded his head. Graham hadn’t seen either of them since that Sunday when they found Rita in the house with him. Liz had called once, but Deborah was somewhere seething and still making her case. Graham loved his daughters, but he wasn’t going to allow either one of them to dictate how he would live his life. He had been a good husband and was still a good father—faithful to Amanda for all of their years together. Who were they to chastise him and give him grief? Daughters or not!

Graham walked up the few steps to the door of the church. He adjusted his tie once more. The last time he was there, his legs wanted to buckle, but he could feel Amanda giving him a gentle nudge so he wouldn’t be late. Being late would be sure cause to make him a spectacle; however, Graham knew it didn’t matter because he had been the hot topic for the last month or more. And saints were sometimes worse than sinners—they never let you forget.

Graham stood in the vestibule and peeped through the window of the door that led into the sanctuary. There was a line of parishioners waiting to be ushered in. The deep, rich, wine-colored carpet that ran from the vestibule into the sanctuary made him feel at peace coming into the Lord’s house.

Elation! Sister Mary Ross wasn’t the gatekeeper today, and he wouldn’t have to ignore her or make a scene. However, Graham could not dismiss Mary from his mind. He was unable to shake the image of her—dressed up in new designer clothes, a new hairdo, a new look that defined the essence of someone Graham hadn’t recognized to be Mary Ross—a rebirth. Maybe Amanda was warning him about Mary. But he was ahead of the game. Mary Ross in her many disguises would have to get up early in the morning to pull the wool over his eyes. And he was ushered to his seat.

Heads bobbed back and forth like Pac-Man, the old Atari game. Graham sat at the end of a row undaunted by the continual stares—happy to be back in the house of the Lord. Stares became smiles that became contagious. The happy worshippers lost interest in Graham, immersing themselves in the hymn for the morning—fans moving in unison while the congregation sang “Nearer My God to Thee.”

When he got up enough nerve, Graham scanned the sanctuary, his eyes finally resting on Deborah. He let out a deep breath. It was obvious she had been looking in his direction, because she quickly looked away as soon as his head zoomed in on her. Graham didn’t miss the little nudge in the arm Deborah gave Liz—Liz looking up and releasing a small smile.

Riley and Grant nodded in Graham’s direction. They understood. It was a man’s thing, but since they had to live with their wives, a nod was all they could give their father-in-law.

Graham spotted Martha who was all decked out in lavender—a fancy, lavender-and-white flowered hat sitting regally on her head. Surprise was etched on her face, but the smile that accompanied it was a sign that Martha was glad to see Graham. She continued peeping as if half expecting to see someone else. Graham realized Martha was wondering if Rita was coming. “Home,” Graham mouthed, hoping Martha understood.

Mary Ross. Graham might not have spotted her if it had not been for her constantly looking back down the aisle as if she half expected him to be there—or so he thought. She was amazing—her sparkle brighter than it had been the previous morning, standing in his living room with the sleek, black velvety dress on. Mary appeared ten years younger.

Their eyes locked, but Mary’s didn’t linger. This puzzled Graham since she had made it clear to him that she wanted him and would do whatever it took to make it happen. Maybe Mary was suddenly embarrassed by her outright display of desperation. Graham felt sorry for her, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it as all attention was averted to the praise dancers, who dressed in white chiffon blouses with long blouson sleeves and white, flowing, floor-length skirts that resembled upside-down funnel clouds. They looked like Heavenly beings sent from above to usher in the Holy Spirit.

“Order my steps in Your word, dear Lord
,”
crooned the recording artist. Arms, heads, and fingers so graceful as their movement mimed the lyrics to the song. The essence of a well-trained ballerina to the defined ethnic movements of the Alvin Ailey dancers encompassed these spiritual, earthly beings who gave reverence to the Lord.

A thunderous applause met the young ladies as they bowed at the end of their tear-wrenching dance interpretation. Saints jumped to their feet, raising their hands high above their heads, crying out “Hallelujah, Hallelujah” so filled with the Spirit that had touched nearly every soul in the sanctuary. It was a contagious event with every seat empty, including Graham’s.

As the roar of the crowd died down, many worshippers who had found themselves in the middle of the aisle, lost in the Holy Spirit, settled back into their seats. Late entrants to the service were allowed to come inside by the ushers.

Mary turned around again—this time her frown becoming a slight smile, then a full-grown grin. It was obvious she had recovered from her own one-act play yesterday—with the illustrious Deacon Peters in all his glory now just a fleeting memory. Graham turned in the direction Mary had been looking and was just in time to catch a glimpse of Charlie heading down the aisle—bypassing a seat next to him in favor of one next to Sister Mary Ross.

Silence fell like an object caught in quicksand. Even the keys on the organ that Charlotte had been caressing throughout the service fell silent for a minute too long—the interruption in the music causing folks to choose between stopping to see if something was wrong with her or continuing to stare at the
slight
distraction that sat next to Sister Mary Ross. Graham sat stoically in his seat—his eyes cast in their direction. Mary glanced once more in his direction and quickly turned away when she was satisfied Graham had an eyeful.

The remainder of Sunday service was a blur. It became a chore not to stare at Mary and Charlie, so Graham did until service was over. Graham wasn’t sure when Reverend Fields got up or sat down, or for that matter, what the sermon was all about. An attempt to remember was clouded by a vision of the two people who sat a few feet in front of him.

Fellow deacons mobbed Graham the moment service came to an end. Glad to have him back in the fold, the deacons welcomed their missing brother with open arms, some offering a seat at their Sunday dinner table, while others offered a warm hand and a promise to get together soon.

But Graham was looking past them trying to catch a glimpse of Charlie and Mary. He and Charlie had been on shaky ground lately, and after their brief meeting in the barbershop on Friday, it seemed their friendship had taken another small beating. But Mary Ross? What was Charlie trying to prove?

After shaking the last brother’s hand, Martha and Elroy were at Graham’s side. Graham hugged his in-laws, giving Martha a kiss on the cheek.

“Looking like a beautiful spring garden this morning,” Graham said to Martha.

“Son, this is the day that the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it.” Martha raised her hand up to Heaven and gave the Lord a great big
Hallelujah
. “It’s so good to see you today.”

“Sure is,” Elroy said.

“Thank you. I wish my daughters felt the same. They have pulled my grandkids into this.”

“Now don’t you go worrying yourself about it,” Martha said. “They’ll come around. Just give them some time.”

Graham nodded knowing that Martha’s statement was probably correct, but he was not interested in prolonging this conversation. Graham shifted from one leg to the other, anxious to leave the sanctuary in hope that Charlie was still on the church grounds, but Martha wasn’t quite through.

“The girls and their families are coming by this afternoon for dinner.” Martha paused. She saw the hurt in Graham’s eyes. “You can come by if you like.”

“Yeah, Graham. It would be good to have you for dinner. In fact, you haven’t been over since…A-man…” Elroy paused, unable to push Amanda’s name out of his mouth.

“I know, Dad. I promise I’ll come by soon. Today is not the day. I don’t want to spoil dinner for everyone. My being there would cause a scene, and I’m not up to it today.”

“Well, make sure you do soon. And bring Rita with you,” he half whispered. A smile flew across Graham’s face. “You should have brought her to church.”

“She’s back in Seattle, Dad.”

“Between me and you, son, the church might not have been ready for it.”

“Probably not, especially my girls.”

“But tell me something,” Martha butted in. “Charlie and Mary? Now that is a tongue-wagger. They strolled out of here like they were a couple. And I can’t believe the good Christian Sister Mary would even consider fraternizing with the sinner, Charlie. That’s a true example of unequally yoked. I’m not a gambling woman, but I bet Reverend Fields’ next sermon will be about being unequally yoked.”

“You know it,” Elroy concurred. “Mary causing all that ruckus up in here. Just goes to show what she was really up to.”

“Revenge,” Martha said. “Revenge ‘cause she couldn’t get the man she wanted.”

“Well, she can’t go and discredit someone else without discrediting herself,” Elroy said. “But she sho look better. I had to do a triple take.”

Martha popped Elroy on the shoulder and the group snickered until Reverend Fields walked up alongside them. Reverend Fields extended his hand to each of them. Stopping before Graham, he gave him a gentleman’s hug.

“Glad to see you, Brother Peters. We miss you down front with the other deacons. If there’s anything I can do or if you just need to talk to someone, don’t hesitate to call me.”

“Thank you, Pastor.”