Read Men After God's Own Heart Online
Authors: Dijorn Moss
Men After God's Own Heart (3 page)
“I don't think that's a good idea,” Titus replied, finishing his breakfast.
“You're still mad about the wedding, aren't you?” Grace pushed the cantaloupe away from her.
Titus slid the cantaloupe into the trash can under the sink and placed the plate and spoon in the sink without making eye contact with his wife. “I told you not to send her an invitation. That was a waste of time.”
“What mother wouldn't want to come to her only child's wedding?” Grace asked.
“One who doesn't approve of her son getting married. One who doesn't approve of any decision her son has made since God called him to be a pastor.”
“You're not your father,” Grace replied.
“My mother remains unconvinced,” Titus said.
“Life is short, and you're all that your mother has.” Grace pulled Titus by the chin and gave him a kiss. “Just tell me you'll consider it.”
“With you seducing me like this, I'll consider anything.” Titus gave Grace another kiss, and the taste of Grace's lips lingered.
The doorbell rang. Titus and Grace gently bumped their heads together.
“I'll get that.” Grace broke away and went toward the front door.
With Grace, Pastor Dawkins knew pleasure, companionship, wisdom and, above all, love. He and Grace shared a love that was so powerful and yet so delicate that Titus could not have a prolonged engagement. Titus and Grace were married last August, exactly ten months from the day they first met at the men's retreat, of all places. While their intention was to have a private ceremony with only immediate family and close friends present, the celebration of the two taking their vows grew into a spectacle. Titus was happy, but he wondered if his father's words would finally come to fruition.
“Good morning, Pastor.” Janice, Titus's personal assistant, entered the kitchen with iPad in hand.
“Good morning, Janice.” Titus started to put away the remains of his protein shake.
“You are preaching today, right?” Janice asked.
“Yes.” Titus let out a chuckle because over the years he had been a pulpit dictator and had hardly ever allowed anyone to guest speak on Sundays. Since his marriage to Grace, Titus had been a lot more generous with his pulpit and had even taken a couple Sundays off to spend with his new wife.
“Hey, Pastor. How are you?” Reggie, Titus's armor bearer, entered the room.
“I'm good, Doc. I got my iPad, which I need to put in my briefcase, I have to grab a quick shower, and I'll be ready to go.” Titus made his way to the kitchen table, but Reggie beat him to it and packed up Titus's iPad.
“I got this, Pastor,” Reggie said.
“Thanks, Doc. I just need to hop in the shower. I'll be ready in fifteen.”
“Hey, hey now.” Carlos, Titus's driver, entered behind Grace.
“Carlos! I just need fifteen minutes. Here you go.” Titus grabbed the keys to his Range Rover and tossed them to Carlos.
“I'll pull the truck around the front,” Carlos replied.
“Okay. I'll be ready in a minute,” Titus said to his staff and his wife. He shot upstairs and made his way into his master bathroom, where he had a shower with three showerheads. Titus relaxed under the warm pressure of the water and could feel the muck of yesterday washing away.
“Mind if I join you?” Titus had not heard the door open, but there was Grace, clothed in nothing but a glow. At that moment, Titus knew that his staff would have to wait twenty minutes before he came down.
Chapter Four
Quincy
Two Weeks until the Men's Retreat . . .
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“And when I get that feeling, I want sexual healing.” Quincy danced like he was one of the lost members of the Temptations. Complete with a spin and a slide.
His wife, Karen, had worked late for the last two Fridays, and tonight Quincy had a spirit of spontaneity. He filled their Jacuzzi bathtub with rose petals. Chocolate-covered strawberries chilled in the SubZero refrigerator, alongside a bottle of Chianti. A rich four-cheese lasagna sat on the stove. Quincy checked himself out in front of his mirror. He could not decide whether or not to unbutton two or three buttons on his shirt. The three buttons open carried more sex appeal, but the hair on Quincy's chest was less appealing. He ran into the bathroom and grabbed his razor. Quincy shaved the excess hair on his chest and went back to the mirror. Now he looked much better.
The garage door opened, and Quincy made his way down the stairs and into the hallway next to the door to the garage. He leaned against the wall and put his hands in his pockets, simply because it was cool. The door opened, and Karen emerged. She walked in with briefcase and purse in hand.
“Hello, Mrs. Page,” Quincy said in his deepest, sexiest voice without coming off corny.
Karen dropped her bags and rushed over to Quincy. She hopped on him and wrapped her legs around him and started to kiss him.
“I made dinner. Well, I didn't
make
dinner. I actually orderedâ”
make
dinner. I actually orderedâ”
“Don't say another word. I just want you to take me upstairs and make love to me until I forget all about my long day.”
Quincy didn't say another word. He maneuvered Karen over his shoulders and carried her upstairs. Quincy knew that Karen loved when he threw her over his shoulders like Tarzan. It made her squeal, while it made Quincy's back hurt.
Two hours later, Quincy and Karen ate chocolate-covered strawberries on their granite kitchen counter. Karen now wore Quincy's collared shirt, and Quincy had on his black tank top and his boxer shorts.
“That's exactly what I needed.” Karen bit into a strawberry.
“Yeah, you wore me out,” Quincy replied. They kissed and fed each other the chocolate-covered strawberries and wiped the excess chocolate off of each other's mouths with their fingertips. “I was thinking that maybe we should get away this weekend. Let's go to Palm Springs and stay at the Parker.”
Karen wiped the chocolate from her mouth. “I have a ton of work to do.”
“So do I, but you're more important. I just don't want us to get so caught up in other things that we miss what's important.”
The Lord had proved to be a miracle worker when it came to Quincy and Karen's marriage. A year ago Quincy would have never imagined that he and Karen could survive an affair, but God had pulled them from the muck of infidelity. Now their passion for each other burned stronger than ever. Prayer and a lot of therapy were the tools that he and Karen had used to rebuild. He was mindful about what he said to Karen. Quincy made sure not to say anything out of malice in an argument. Quincy did not act like his and Karen's affairs never took place; he just accepted that his and Karen's actions were moments of weakness.
“Can I ask you something?” Karen asked.
“Sure,” Quincy said.
“Do you think our love for each other has grown?”
“I don't know if it has grown, as opposed to us rediscovering what has always been there. I never stopped loving you. I just think that we stayed in one season too long and got comfortable.”
“I just wonder what would've happened if we had had more nights like this,” Karen said.
“Sasha would've had a brother or sister.”
“I'm not talking about the sex, silly. I'm talking about the intimacy that we are sharing here and now. What would've happened?”
“That's a waste of energy playing the what-ifs. I've had plenty of buildings where I wondered what would've been the outcome if I had designed it a different way or built it differently. Then I realized there's nothing I can do. The building has been built. All I can do is take both the success and the miscalculations on to the next building.”
Karen took another bite into her strawberry and wiped the chocolate from her lips. Quincy stole a kiss from her, and the taste of her lips blended with chocolate gratified his desire.
“We can't change how we built the first twenty years of our marriage. But we can change how we build the next twenty. We can start by a getaway out of the city for the weekend,” Quincy said.
“Okay. Let's go!” Karen said as she wrapped her arms around Quincy's neck and kissed him. Quincy picked Karen up and sat her on the counter. It was time for round two.
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The next day Quincy whistled as he placed his golf clubs in the back of his new Porsche Cayenne. He planned to hit a few balls, make a little love, and eat overpriced crab cakes. Karen came out in a sundress with her sunshades and a smile. Quincy was afraid that they might not even make it to Palm Springs, with his wife looking so good.
“Looking very good, Mrs. Page,” Quincy complimented.
“You're looking pretty hot yourself,” Karen replied.
They kissed again, and this time when they broke free, Karen gave Quincy a pat on the behind.
“Watch out, now.” Quincy said, then opened the passenger side door and helped his wife into her seat. He was making his way toward the driver's seat when Sasha's cranberry Lexus IS 300 pulled up in front of his driveway. Sasha, his daughter, hopped out of the car.
“Hey, Dad!”
“Sasha, what are you doing here?” Quincy asked.
Karen hopped out of the car and took off her sunshades. “Baby, why are you here?”
“I just missed you guys and wanted to come home.” Sasha gave her mother a hug. “Were you guys heading somewhere?”
“Yes, we were about to go out of town for the weekend,” Karen replied.
“Oh, well, I was just wondering if I could stay here for the weekend. I don't want to bother you guys. I just need some time to myself,” Sasha said.
“Of course you can stay. I'm just confused as to why you're down here,” Karen said.
“She's not the only one,” Quincy said as he made his way around the car to observe his daughter.
“I'll tell you all about it when you get back,” Sasha said.
“No. Tell us now so that whatever it is we need to straighten out, we can do that.” Quincy pointed to the front door, and Sasha made her way into the house.
Quincy and Karen followed her into the house, and Quincy closed the door behind him.
“I'm confused. It's September. There isn't a major holiday that would cause you to come home from Berkeley,” Quincy said.
“It's just been really hard on me with both school and my roommate.” Sasha took a seat on the living room couch.
“I thought you guys were getting along great.” Karen sat in the love seat diagonally across from Sasha, and Quincy sat on the arm of the love seat, next to Karen.
Sasha put her head down and started to cry, while Quincy's head started to spin. He remembered when Sasha had begged him to allow her roommate, Tasha, to stay with her. Quincy had agreed to pay the rent for the two-bedroom apartment so long as Tasha carried her weight around the house. The two got along so well that Sasha left a month before the start of the fall semester just to spend time and hang out with her friend. None of this made sense.
“But even if you guys were arguing, it still doesn't make sense that you would leave in the beginning of the semester and come home,” Quincy said.
“Dad, school hasn't gotten off to a good semester. I've been stressed out, and I feel overwhelmed.”
“You go to one of the top universities in the country. Of course it's hard. It's supposed to be hard. Pressure either breaks you or it molds you into the person you're meant to be!”
“I know, Dad. I know. It's just that it's hard, and I don't know if I can do it.”
“Do what?” Quincy and Karen said in unison.
“This whole college thing. I don't know . . . I don't even know if I want to be a doctor. Part of me thinks that I'm going to school for the wrong reason.”
Quincy put his anger in check and looked for the deeper meaning behind his only child's words. He could not focus on how much he had spent so far for Sasha to have a first-class education, only to turn around and throw it back in his face. The Sasha that he and Karen had raised was relentless and goal oriented. She did not shy away from challenges; she advanced. Something was not right, and Quincy needed to figure out what it was. Not even a second later Sasha jumped up unexpectedly.
“I'll be back. I have to use the restroom. You know, long drive,” Sasha explained as she walked out of the living room.
“What is going on?” Quincy threw his hands up in protest.
“Let's just hear her out,” Karen replied in a calming tone.
“Hear her out? Are you crazy? Our daughter is talking about dropping out of school. There's not too much more of this nonsense that I'm going to listen to.”
“You know what your problem is, Q? You're too quick to judge. She's probably being emotional right now. She has a lot on her plate. Just let her talk it out, and she will be back in school before you know it.”
“So much for this weekend.” Quincy shook his head.
Sasha came back downstairs without the same bounce in her step as before. Quincy also noticed that Sasha had a piece of tissue in her hand, and she wiped her lips.
“Look, I know you guys are worried, but don't be,” Sasha said.
“So what were you guys fighting about?” Quincy asked.
“What are you talking about?” Sasha was perplexed.
“What were you and your roommate fighting about?” Karen beat Quincy to the follow-up question.
“Oh, I'm sorry.” Sasha contorted her face. “She's just nasty. She doesn't clean up. Her room is a mess, and she's got this foul odor to her.”
“I'm not trying to be funny or nothing, but did she all of a sudden forgot how to wash her tail? You've never mentioned this as a problem before. So why move back a month before the start of the semester to be with Stinky?” Quincy said.
“Honey, you guys must be having a different kind of problem,” Karen concluded.
“I mean, don't get me wrong. She's a cool person. I just can't deal with it.” Sasha shook her head as she stared off into space.
Now Quincy's attention was drawn to Sasha's ensemble. She had on a bright red T-shirt with some gray sweats. Sasha did not even dress like that around the house. There was only one logical explanation for Sasha's erratic behavior. Quincy noticed Karen biting her lip, which meant that she was not buying Sasha's story, either. Quincy knew that many minutes ago Karen had drawn the same conclusion that he had just reached.
“Honey, we're paying a lot of money to send you to one of the best schools in the country. You're too old to be running home just because you don't get along with your roommate,” Quincy said.
“She was just being mean to me, and I couldn't handle it. So I decided to come home.”
“But that doesn't make any sense. You would come home from Berkeley just because you and your roommate are having problems?” Karen rested Sasha's head on her shoulder. “Sasha, are you pregnant?” Karen just came out and asked. Call it intuition or whatever, but she knew something more was going on.
“Why would you ask me that? I'm telling you that I'm not getting along with my roommate, and you're reading too much into this.”
“That's because you didn't come home over your roommate. You came home because either you're pregnant or you're on drugs, and your body language doesn't suggest the latter,” Quincy said.
Sasha's face became drenched with tears, which only made the silence more nerve-racking. “Mom, I'm so sorry. I just didn't know what to do.”
“How about keeping your legs closed!” Quincy snapped.
“Quincy, don't!” Karen snapped back, cloaked in rage.
But her plea fell on deaf ears. Quincy was not done. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn't hop on a plane right now and kill your little boyfriend for knocking up my daughter?”
Sasha's sobs were uncontrollable. “Because he doesn't know that I'm pregnant!”
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