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Authors: Vanessa Davie Griggs

BOOK: The Truth Is the Light
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Chapter 48
Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels, unawares.
—Hebrews 13:2
P
astor Landris drove to the church only to learn that Reverend Walker also took off on Mondays. The secretary called Reverend Walker when Pastor Landris refused to make an appointment to see him upon his return to work. Pastor Landris insisted she get in contact with Reverend Walker somehow so he could speak with him today. He'd already called the numbers he had and left messages. He knew she would have a special way to get him.
“Reverend Walker says he will be happy to see you tomorrow at ten. So, if you'll come back then, he'll be glad to talk to you,” the secretary said.
“I need you to call him back on whatever number you just reached him on and tell him that it's imperative that I speak with him now,” Pastor Landris said.
“I'm sorry, Pastor Landris, but I can't do that.”
Pastor Landris frowned. “You can't or you won't?”
“I can't.” She instantly looked like she was about to cry. Her reaction didn't go unnoticed by him. “Reverend Walker told me not to call him back unless the church was on fire.” She tried to make light of her statement by masking it with a smile.
Pastor Landris calmed down. After all, it wasn't her fault Reverend Walker was having her do this. It wasn't fair to her for him to take out his frustration on her.
Pastor Landris smiled to put her at ease. “Please tell Reverend Walker that I'll see him first thing in the morning,” Pastor Landris said. “And you have a blessed day now.”
“You too, Pastor. And Pastor Landris, I really enjoyed your sermon yesterday. My husband did, too. He said we might come and visit your church one of these days.”
Pastor Landris put on a smile. It was hitting home why as Christians it was important to be angry and sin not. “You are certainly welcome to come and visit anytime you desire. We would be happy to have you,” he said.
“Pastor Landris?” she said.
“Yes.”
“Reverend Walker usually comes in around nine
AM
. I just thought you might like to know.”
“Thank you, Sister . . . ?”
“Greer. It's Katrina Greer.”
“Well, I thank you, Sister Greer. I hope I didn't
completely
ruin your day. But if I did, please accept my humblest apology.” Pastor Landris placed his hand over his heart and bowed his head to her slightly.
“Oh, no,” she said, smiling and shaking her head. “In fact, I'm honored I got to talk with you today. You're a powerful minister, Pastor Landris. Please continue to preach God's Word the way that you do. Don't let the devil stop you or try to take you down. You just keep on preaching the God-Heaven truth. God's got your back.”
Pastor Landris nodded as he smiled at her once more.
She definitely has a way with words,
he thought. “I'll do that, Sister Greer,” he said. “I'll continue preaching the
God-Heaven
truth.” He then left.
Chapter 49
She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life.
—Proverbs 31:12
G
abrielle and Zachary went to see
The Color Purple
on Friday. The Broadway hit show was just as wonderful as Gabrielle imagined it would be. She and Zachary laughed and played around when they went to eat afterward. Zachary truly made her happy. And the way he lovingly looked at her when he thought she wasn't looking told her that she did the same for him.
“Now, are you ready to tell me what spooked you?' Zachary said. They sat in a booth in the restaurant, opting to share a deep dark chocolate brownie topped with a large scoop of vanilla ice cream and lava-looking chocolate sauce oozing down its sides instead of each tackling an individual one.
“I don't know what you're talking about.” Gabrielle leaned in as she took her long-handled spoon and scooped a bite, carefully placing it in her mouth.
“You know what I'm talking about,” Zachary said as he allowed the ice cream and chocolate mixture to melt in his mouth while refusing to take his eyes off Gabrielle.
“Zachary, I hate guessing games. I always have. That's why I don't care to play Jeopardy.”
“What? You mean you don't like Jeopardy? Woman, is something wrong with you? Who doesn't like figuring out what the question is based on the answer?” he teased.
She shook her head and laughed. “You're right. What is wrong with me?” She took another bite.
“Well, at least I got you to laugh. Okay, so you don't feel like guessing what I'm talking about. Then allow me to get straight to it. Before we went to my parents' home, you and I were fine . . . great. I could feel the love growing between us.”
She pulled her now-empty spoon from out of her mouth. “Is that right?”
“That's right. Even after we got there, you and I were doing great. You went to see Aunt Esther, and by the way my father says she's progressing fantastically since we came. So much so that her doctor is starting to believe prayer really
can
change things. That's what Aunt Esther told him when he asked her what happened: love and prayer.”
Gabrielle tilted her head softly and looked into his eyes. “I'm so thankful that you brought me and Miss Crowe back together. I didn't really know just how
much
I needed to see her. It was like having a story told and being left to hang, unable to read the next chapter. I knew she'd been in an accident, but I didn't know if she was alive or dead. When I finally learned that she was alive, I still wanted to look in her face myself. Then her asking me to dance for her like that. My goodness!” Gabrielle quickly started fanning back her tears. She held her head back, then straight. “Thank you
so much
for doing that.”
“Okay, so we agree that you going to Chicago with me was a good thing. You visiting with my aunt was also a good thing. So tell me: where did things break down?”
Gabrielle thought about the conversation she had with his mother. “I didn't realize things had broken down,” she flubbed. “You and I have our lives to lead. You with your practice and emergency hospital calls, and me being named the director of the Dance Ministry and leading it the way Johnnie Mae believes I can do. You also know that I'm still doing housekeeping work at that house. There's just a lot going on these days.”
“Why don't you quit working at that house?”
She pulled back. “Why? Because you think my cleaning someone else's house is beneath me?”
“No.” He shook his head as he released an exasperated sigh. “Because that's a lot to be doing when you're trying to organize a ministry and do all the
other
things you do. You attend Dance Ministry meetings on Tuesday nights, Bible study on Wednesday nights, church on Sunday mornings, and church staff meetings now when they have them on a Sunday night. And that's when you aren't attending a baby christening and/or a baptism on Sunday nights. Now you're in charge of the Dance Ministry, which requires you to do administrative work as well as deciding and approving what routines will be performed. That's a lot to do in addition to going and cleaning someone else's house Monday through Friday, for what . . . eight hours a day, not counting commute time.”
“Well, what about you? You have your own practice, plus you're on call if something happens that requires you to come in, like yesterday. You go to Wednesday night Bible study and Sunday morning worship service, and sometimes you've been at the hospital all day, or in many cases through the night and early into the morning.”
“Okay, I see what you're trying to do. You're trying to divert the conversation away from my original question.”
“I wasn't trying to do that. You were the one who said I should quit my housekeeping job as though there was some dishonor or disgrace in that kind of work.”
“That was not what I was implying. But for some reason that's striking a nerve with you, which means maybe that's where some of the truth lies,” Zachary said. He took her left hand. “Okay, let's try it this way. Did you tell my mother things about your life?”
“Zachary, let's just drop this, okay?”
“Yes or no. Did she get you to tell her things about your life like maybe when she corralled you into the kitchen or when she got you alone at some point? It's a yes or no question.”
“Yes,” Gabrielle said.
“Did my mother say something to you about your cleaning other people's houses? Yes or no.”
“Yes, but—”
“You can keep the commentaries. All I want is a yes or no answer.” He licked his lip, then bit down on it. “Did you tell her about what you used to do prior to being a maid . . . a housekeeper?”
“Zachary, we really need to go. You know I have folks in my house. And the way they treat people's things, it will be a miracle if I still have a house standing when I get back. You know if they don't respect their own things, they sure don't think anything about anyone else's.”
“Did you tell my mother what you did before this year? Yes or no.”
“Yes.” She pushed the bowl with the remaining dessert toward him, pulled her hand out of his, and picked up her purse. “Can we please go now?”
He grabbed her hand again. “Gabrielle, did my mother tell you or imply that you weren't good enough for me?”
“Zachary, please, can we just go?”
“After you answer my question.”
She pulled back from him. “You can't keep me here against my will.”
“Gabrielle, I'm not trying to keep you anywhere against your will. All I'm trying to do is find out what happened with us after we went to Chicago, you seeing my aunt, and the sudden change in temperature between us that, ironically, seemed to have occurred the afternoon I came back and found you and my mother huddled up in an intense conversation in the living room. . . .” He fell back, then slowly rubbed his hands together.
“That's it, isn't it?” Zachary said, leaning forward. “When I came in, she was telling you that you needed to break things off with me. That's what she was telling you when I walked in that day. And you actually listened to her.” He sounded disappointed.
Gabrielle moved back toward him. “Zachary, it wasn't like that. Your mother loves you. Dearly. She only wants the best for you. You know that.”
“So, you agree with her.” He frowned as he looked intensely, but lovingly, at her.
“What do you mean I agree with her?”
“You agree that you're not the best for me. You agree that I don't know what I'm doing by being with you. You're questioning my judgment and my ability to know what's right for me and what's not. You think I'm irresponsible in my decision making.”
“See, now you're just trying to twist things around. You're a great doctor, and you know that. All I said was that your mother wants you to have the best in life, and the best
possible
life.
I
want you to have the best possible life as well. In that respect, then yes . . . your mother and I absolutely
do
agree.”
Zachary scooted toward the end and stood up. “Sure. I understand. So . . . you're ready to go home? I'll take you home then. I wouldn't want to keep you somewhere you don't want to be.” He held out his hand to assist her in getting up. “Never let it be said that I had to kidnap a woman in order for her to be with me.”
“Zachary—”
“Was everything to your satisfaction?” the fiery, red-haired waitress said.
“Everything was wonderful,” Zachary said, having already placed the money inside the black padded folder, with a more-than-generous tip. “And now, I must escort this lovely woman home.”
Chapter 50
For which I am an ambassador in bonds: that therein I may speak boldly, as I ought to speak.
—Ephesians 6:20
“W
hen you decide what you want to do,” Zachary said, standing outside Gabrielle's front door, “let me know. I don't ever want you to feel like I forced you or guilted you into doing anything you didn't want to do.”
They hadn't said much on the ride home from the restaurant. Zachary was giving Gabrielle the space she wanted. Gabrielle wasn't sure of the right thing to do. She'd already fallen in love with Zachary. But did love give her the right to be selfish and possibly mess things up in his life because of some of her earlier decisions?
Talking with Zachary's mother, the housekeeper put-down wasn't what had gotten to her. She was proud of what she was able to do, even if some people had the nerve to want to look down on it. She thought about the scripture in Colossians that said whatever you do, to do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men. No one could ever, in good conscience, throw her performing that type of work in her face. But her earlier days, those dancing years, someone
could
use against Zachary were they inclined. She didn't want to put him in a position of having to deal with or defend that segment of her life.
She turned to go inside the house without commenting. He touched her arm. She turned back around, and he kissed her softly on her cheek. “Bye,” he said.
“Bye,” she said back, feeling as though she'd just lost her best friend.
As soon as she stepped into her house, she couldn't believe her eyes. The vase with silk flowers was missing. There were clothes on the stairway banister and on the floor in the foyer. She saw what looked like a perfectly made strawberry handprint on one of her walls. She walked over to get a better look. She was mistaken. It was actually strawberry preserves.
She briskly went in search of somebody . . . anybody. When she looked in the kitchen, there were empty bottles and cans everywhere. Four pots sat on the stove. She looked in them. They were practically empty with evidence of various foods like spaghetti noodles, spaghetti sauce, Alfredo sauce, and chili. Every plate she owned seemed to be either on the counter or on the kitchen table. The stainless-steel garbage can was overflowing with trash, and scraped-out food had hardened on the floor around it.
Hearing the television blasting, Gabrielle turned and marched to the den. She was clearly on a mission now. There she found Aunt Cee-Cee lying on one end of the couch with her feet propped up on a couch pillow, and her cousin Laura on the other end, half-asleep, both of them facing the television. Two of Angie's children were with them, throwing popcorn at each other and eating the fallen kernels from off the floor. She didn't know where Angie's baby was.
“Aunt Cee-Cee!” Gabrielle said. “Aunt Cee-Cee!” Her aunt jumped as she awakened and turned in her direction. “Will you
please
turn that thing down?!”
Aunt Cee-Cee pointed the remote control at the television and turned it down. “You're home,” she said as she struggled to sit up. “How was your evening?”
“My evening was fine. At least it
was
fine until I stepped back into my house. What is wrong with all of y'all?”
“What do you mean?” Laura said, stretching.
“Have you seen the kitchen and my foyer? I haven't gone any farther than those two areas. There's a strawberry handprint on my wall. The kitchen looks like a tornado swept through it. Is anybody familiar with the concept of cleaning up behind yourself or watching your children so they don't feel it's perfectly fine to throw popcorn everywhere?” Gabrielle directed the last part about the popcorn at the two children.
The children started crying.
“See, Gabrielle, you scared them,” Laura said. “Come here, you two.” Laura held out her arms. “Angie!” Laura yelled. “Angie!”
“What!” came a voice from near the stairs.
“Come and see about your children!”
Angie stepped into the room a minute later with the telephone stuck to her ear. “I'm on the phone,” Angie said as she walked over to her children and practically snatched them up off the floor.
“Don't be so rough with them,” Aunt Cee-Cee said.
“Look at this mess they're making,” Angie said to her mother.
“Well, then you need to clean it up,” Aunt Cee-Cee said.
“I'm busy.” Angie turned to Gabrielle. “Would you mind getting this up for me?”
Gabrielle gave Angie a look that clearly questioned her sanity. “I don't
think
so,” she said.
“I'm trying to find a job,” Angie said in answer to Gabrielle's look. “Hold on a second,” she said to the person on the line. She pressed the mute button. “Gabrielle, somebody called you a little after you left. She said to let you know she called, and that it was important.”
“Who was it?”
Angie shrugged as she walked the children over to her mother. “I don't remember her name.”
“You didn't write it down?” Gabrielle asked, annoyed.
“I was busy on the phone,” Angie said. “Besides, I couldn't find a pen and paper. She also left a phone number.”
“Why did you even answer my phone? I didn't tell anyone to answer my phone. I have an answering machine. At least that woman, whoever it was, could have left a message, and I would have been able to retrieve it,” Gabrielle said.
Angie put her hand on her hip. “I answered it because I was on it. The person beeped in, and I thought the least I could do was answer it for you. The next time, I just won't bother.” She unmuted, put the phone back up to her ear, and resumed her conversation.
“Aunt Cee-Cee,” Gabrielle said. “You and I need to talk.”
“Sure. Fine,” Aunt Cee-Cee said. “But we're out of milk, eggs, cereal—”
“And toilet paper,” Laura said. “Why don't I just make a list of what you need to go buy.”
“What happened to all of the toilet paper? I had a brand-new nine-roll pack in the linen closet.”
“Do you have any idea how many people are living here now?” Laura said. “I used a roll all by myself. And I hope you know that they make the rolls smaller than they used to. These companies are doing anything they can to make money these days.”
“Aunt Cee-Cee, we need to talk now,” Gabrielle said through clenched teeth.
“I'll go write out the grocery list,” Laura said as she stood up and left.
“Okay. What do you want to talk about?”
“I've tried to be understanding. I've tried to put myself in your shoes. I've tried to do what a good Christian ought to do. But as Christians, God has not called us to be tramped on the way you and your family are doing here with me. I'd like all of you to leave my house.”
“And we plan on leaving. Just as soon as we get back on our feet,” Aunt Cee-Cee said.
“No. I'd like for you to leave before the weekend is over.”
Aunt Cee-Cee chuckled. “You mean by this
coming
Sunday?”
“Yes, I mean by Sunday.”
Aunt Cee-Cee bent down her head and looked up. “This Sunday coming up? This Sunday?”
“This Sunday coming up,” Gabrielle said.
“If we leave this Sunday, then how are we all going to go to church with you? You see, I figured out why things are going so much better for you than us. The only thing I can see you do differently from us is that you go to church on a regular basis. So, I told everybody here that we're going down to the same church where you go, and we're going to get whatever it is you've gotten from being there. I figure if we go this Sunday, God will turn things around in our lives before the next Sunday. We could likely be back on our feet in a few weeks, and in a few weeks be out of here.” Aunt Cee-Cee scooped up a handful of popcorn out of the bag and popped it in her mouth. “Do you think your church might give us a donation or something to help us get into a home?”
Gabrielle threw up her hands and stomped out of the room. She couldn't take any more. She went up to her room. Both Jesse and Luke were in there wallowing on her bed as Jesse ate spaghetti and they both watched television. “Please get out of my room,” she said so calmly it almost scared her.
“The show is not off yet,” Luke said. “And all the other TVs are taken.”
“And I'm not finished with my food yet,” Jesse said, picking his teeth.
“I
said,
get out of my room.”
“You are so selfish,” Luke said after clicking off the television with the remote control. He threw the remote back onto the bed as he walked past her and glared.
Jesse picked up his plate off the bed and followed his older brother. “We're out of drinks,” he said to Gabrielle as he walked past her. “Mama said we don't have any money to buy anything, so we needed to tell you whatever we were out of so you can get it.”
Gabrielle didn't say a word. As soon as Jesse cleared the doorway, she closed her bedroom door. She went and got her Bible, turned to Ephesians chapter six, and began reading at verse ten. When she sat down on the bed, she saw spaghetti sauce all over her just-cleaned bedspread. Tears started making their way down her face.
“Lord, I know you told me to be strong in You and in the power of Your might. I'm trying, Lord. I have put on the whole armor of God. I'm trying so hard to stand against the wiles of the devil. I know that we're not wrestling against flesh and blood. All that's going on right now in my life is merely the devil going to and fro seeing who he can devour. We're wrestling against principalities and the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places. Lord, it's getting hard.... You see how hard it's been for me just these past few days. But you have instructed us to stand.
“To stand with our loins girdled with truth, having on the breastplate of righteousness, our feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace. But above all, Lord, we have been told to take the shield of faith so that we're able to quench all of the fiery darts hurled at us from the wicked one. To take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God, and to use it. I'm praying, Lord . . . praying without ceasing. I know You see what I'm dealing with today. Please direct me in what is the right thing to do and what is Your divine will. In Jesus' precious name I pray. Amen.”

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