The Choir Director (40 page)

“No, he’s in your office.” Anita looked like she was hiding a smirk as she turned her head and went back to work. I wondered
what that was all about. Was this bitch looking to get fired?

I rushed into my office, where I could feel the tension as soon as I walked in. There sat Daddy at my desk, and next to him were two very familiar people, both of whom I’d fired in the past six or seven months: Michael Nixon, the salesman I used to date and fired for getting married, and Lisa Blackwell, the accountant with the big mouth.

“Daddy, what the hell are they doing here?” Obviously he wasn’t sick. I didn’t know what was going on, but it definitely wasn’t good. “And what are you doing here, for that matter? Aren’t you supposed to be in Florida regaining your strength?”

“Sit down, Simone.” He spoke in an even tone, but I knew from experience that sometimes he used that tone when he was about to unleash his fury.

Daddy stood up, towering over me. I’d forgotten what a tall man he was. I noticed a muscle twitching in his jaw, like it did whenever he was angry. “I’m here to take back my company.”

“Excuse me? You’re doing what?” I stood there, a vein throbbing in my temple. “What are you talking about? Have you been taking your meds? You should be home resting.”

“Don’t patronize me, child. When I left you in charge of this dealership, we were making a considerable amount of money in profits.” He picked up a sales journal. “Since you’ve been in charge, we’ve been declining in sales every month, and losing money the past six months.”

“You don’t understand,” I protested, hands held out in an imploring manner.

“Oh, yes, I do understand. And these two kind people have explained it to me.”

I cut my eyes at the two Judases.

“What can they tell you? They don’t even work here anymore. They’re both part of the reason that this company was doing so poorly.”

“You’re my daughter and I love you, Simone, but somehow I don’t think so.”

“Daddy, I can’t believe you’d take their word over your own flesh and blood. I—”

“Well, believe it, Simone, because that’s how it is. And effective today, Michael and Lisa will be co-running this dealership. I’m sure I’ll get my check on time from them. Isn’t that right, guys?”

They answered in unison, “Yes, sir.”

This wasn’t happening. It had to be some kind of crazy-ass dream. My father would never throw me under the bus. Not him, not me.

“Daddy, this isn’t funny. You know, you almost got me.” I started to laugh.

He handed the journal to Michael. “I’m serious, Simone. I’m sorry, but you’re out, they’re in.”

I studied his face and my stomach knotted up. He was serious. He was firing me.

That’s when I lost it. “You gotta be fucking kidding me! You can’t do this to me!” I stomped my feet, throwing a temper tantrum like I used to when I was a little girl. When it didn’t work, I dropped to my knees and started pleading. “Daddy, please. Please, Daddy, give me another chance. I was gonna write you this month and next month’s checks. Please, Daddy.”

“You can plead all you want, but it’s already done.” My father pointed to the recently rehired employees. “Listen, I want to talk to my daughter for a minute. We’ll get back to what we were working on in a minute.” He nodded at the two of them, and they left the room. I thought about jumping on their backs as they left the room, but I’d get them after I dealt with my father.

“Daddy, have you lost your mind? How could you do this to me? I’ll have you put away in an asylum for the mentally ill. Can’t you see how crazy this is?”

He nodded. “You know, Simone, I’m sure you would try to have me locked away if it would help you, but all that will do is get you totally disinherited.”

That hurt more than a slap in the face.

“Daddy, please. You can’t do this. Wilcox Motors is my life. I’ve worked here my entire life.”

“It’s already done. Listen, why don’t you go back to school or find a new trade? I don’t think the car business is for you.”

“I hate you! I hate you!”

“Yeah, yeah, and I love you too,” he said as if he wasn’t the least bit moved by my emotional outburst. “Get over it, Simone. You’re not fourteen anymore. You are a grown woman and I’m not going for it.”

“What do you expect me to do now?”

“Same thing everyone else does when they get fired. How about look for a job, or go down to the unemployment office? You like shopping. I’m sure you’d be a great salesperson at Bloomingdale’s.”

“I can’t do that. Do you know how embarrassing that would be?”

“Well, then, I hope you saved some of that money you stole from me and the church.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re lucky you haven’t been arrested.” He looked at me with disappointment written all over his face. “I’ve given you the best of everything, Simone, but you never appreciated it. I spoiled you, trying to make you be as strong as a man. But you’ve gone too far. What you did was despicable. You wanna steal from a family business, fine, but from the church? I’m ashamed of you.”

I couldn’t say anything. I’d really hit rock bottom. First I was caught stealing from the church, Aaron dumped me, I was banned from the church, and now my own father was through with me. Tears began to roll down my face. Finally I reached into my bag and shoved copies of the cashier’s checks into his hand.

“I didn’t steal from the church, Daddy. It was a loan. I paid it back with interest. Look, see for yourself.”

He looked down at the paper. “You really have a sense of entitlement, don’t you? Maybe you found a way to keep your ass out of jail, Simone, but that still doesn’t make this right.”

“Daddy, I did the right thing when it was all said and done. Why can’t you accept that?”

“You just don’t get it, do you? I thought I raised you right, but I guess I didn’t. I’m afraid for you, Simone. A woman like you needs a strong hand, from a good man.” Daddy’s voice
turned a little more gentle. “Let me give you a little advice. That young man you were with, Aaron, he’s the best thing that ever happened to you. I advise you to get married and have some babies with him.”

“Well, that’s not possible. We broke up because of you and your fake heart attack.”

He shook his head, chuckling. “Somehow I doubt it was me that caused him to break up with you, but if I were you? I’d try to get him back.”

“Daddy, why are you doing this to me? I’m your daughter, your only heir.”

“Simone, if you were messing with the church’s money, you didn’t think I would realize you were probably screwing up mine too?” He sighed. “You’ve screwed up a lot of things here. Now, me and those two people out there have quite a job to do fixing it back up. Good-bye, Simone,” my father said as he headed out the door. “I’ll see you on Thanksgiving.”

I was sitting in my office, taking one last look around. I’d closed my doors to keep from looking at all the unhappy faces as they moved boxes out to the waiting trucks in the parking lot. Hold on, let me stop lying to myself. I closed the door because I was starting to get emotional and didn’t want anyone to see the tears welling up in my eyes. I’d spent most of my adult life preaching in this building. I just couldn’t believe it was going to be gone in the blink of an eye.

First Jamaica Ministries’ choir was good at last week’s competition, but the judges didn’t seem to think we were good enough to win. Personally, I thought that we’d won, but of course, I’m a little biased. We did receive a nice check for two hundred grand but that was nowhere near the three million dollars we needed to keep Maxwell from calling our note and closing our doors tomorrow morning. So, here we were, packing up to leave.

I’d shed quite a few tears over the past several weeks, more than I can remember shedding since my first wife passed away. Sadly enough, I’d buried my best friend of more than twenty years and found out my wife used to be intimate with my other best friend, who had basically lost his mind and was trying to destroy me by foreclosing on my church. I guess when you really looked at it, I had a few reasons to shed some tears. It was hard, but I was trying to stay optimistic.

We had our last Sunday service this morning. I preached a sermon on patience and understanding. I reminded the congregation that God won’t give us more than we can bear. Perhaps it was His will that we move to a different location and start anew.
During the service, many of the women were crying. I saw tears in some of the men’s eyes also. Heck, I shed a few myself. This was a dark moment in our church’s fifty-year history. I had a lot of faith in the Lord, but this was the first time in years that I’d questioned His judgment. I mean, something had to give. I couldn’t continue to be strong for everyone else without a glimmer of hope.

As I sorted through the papers from my file cabinets to pack them away, there was a knock on my office door. “Come in.”

Mackie stuck his head in. I’d seen him only a few times since we’d returned from Washington, D.C. I was pretty sure he’d been avoiding me. From what my wife and Tia told me, he’d taken the second-place finish pretty hard. He was upset that he’d let me and the church down.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked.

I glanced around the room. “No, I’ve got the rest of this, but thanks, Mackie.”

“Okay. Hey, Bishop, can I talk to you for a moment?” He looked so downhearted.

I gestured for him to enter. “Sure. I’ve wanted to talk to you too.”

Aaron stepped in and closed the door behind him. “I just wanted to say I’m really sorry, Bishop. I know I let you down, but if I have to spend the rest of my life doing it, I’ll make it up to you.”

“You didn’t let me down. And you darn sure don’t have anything to make up. You did your best, which was more than a lot of other people around here did. Besides, just because we don’t have the church’s building doesn’t mean First Jamaica Ministries is gone. We’ll rebuild. This isn’t the first space we’ve ever been in.”

Mackie looked more hopeful at my words. “I’m glad to hear that, Bishop. I’ve saved up a little money since I’ve been here. If I have to, I’ll work for free. I’ll do anything for the church.”

“I know that, Aaron, but for right now, let’s take everything one day at a time.”

He nodded. “Okay, so what did you want to talk to me about?”

I sat back in my chair. “Well, I’ve got a little bit of good news for you.”

“I could use some good news,” he replied.

“So could we all. I spoke to a friend of mine down at the New York parole board.” Aaron looked a little uncomfortable. “He’s going to have your parole officer changed, effective today. You should be getting a call from your new PO this afternoon. You won’t have to deal with that Andrew Gotti guy anymore.”

A huge smile came across Aaron’s face. “Wow, are you serious? Thank you, Bishop. Thank you so much. That man had it out for me. I couldn’t do anything to keep him off my back.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about him or his partner anymore.” It felt good to do that for Aaron. I took it as a sign from God that even though we were going through some hard times, we would persevere—and I would continue my ministry. It was still my calling to look out for His flock, even in small ways such as this. God might present me with challenges, but He would also continue to present me with opportunities.

There was another knock at the door.

“Come in,” I said.

Aaron made a move to get up and leave, but I told him to stay.

A strange white man walked through the door. He had
lawyer
written all over his face. I groaned inside.
Oh, my goodness. Not another one of Maxwell’s lawyers.
We weren’t supposed to be out until the next morning, but his people kept coming by to do inspections.

“Bishop Wilson?”

“Yes, how can I help you?” I leaned forward in my chair.

The man looked around and smiled. “From the looks of things around here, maybe I can help you.”

“How’s that?” Whatever he was selling, I sure wasn’t in the mood to buy.

“My name is Byron Byrnes. I’m an attorney.”

“No joke,” I wanted to say, and from Aaron’s demeanor, he seemed to agree with me.

“You were a friend of the late James Black, weren’t you?” he asked.

“Yes, I was. What does this have to do with Mr. Black?”

“Well, I’m Mr. Black’s attorney. I don’t know if you knew this, but Mr. Black was a man of considerable assets.” He set his briefcase down on my desk and took a seat next to Aaron.

I nodded. I didn’t know how much he was worth, but I’d always known James was shrewd in his business dealings. He’d racked up a pretty penny or two, and a lot of property.

Mr. Byrnes continued. “His net worth was somewhere in the neighborhood of thirteen million. Unfortunately, with him being sick and incarcerated, he lost a little money during the stock market crash. But still, thirteen million isn’t anything to sneeze at.”

“Not at all!”

“Well, Mr. Black has a daughter and a son who are estranged from him, I understand.”

“I don’t know if I’d call it estranged, but they’ve been away for a while. I think his son is somewhere in Europe. I’m not sure where his daughter is.”

“Well, with the absence of his children, he’s made you administrator of his estate, the majority of which has been left to them to split equally if they should ever return or be located.”

I smiled. “Good old James always made sure he provided for his kids.”

“He also put money in a living trust for First Jamaica Ministries. The way he had it set up, you are the sole administrator and have decision-making power when it comes to all moneys in the trust.”

“Wow, and he left some money to the church too.” I looked at Aaron and said hopefully, “Hey, maybe we can pay off some of these debts and find a new home for the church after all.”

Aaron looked skeptical. “Man, when my daddy died, it took forever for us to get that little bit of money he left.”

“Yes, that’s pretty common, but this trust is not like the items in Mr. Black’s will, so we don’t have to worry about probate.” Mr. Byrnes pulled a folder out of his briefcase. “Now, I have some papers for you to sign, and then you gentlemen can go about your business.”