Shiloh had just given Randy his nightly banana split and snuggled next to him when his cell phone rang.
“I’ll be there in half an hour,” he said after listening for a few minutes.
Randy placed the ice cream on the coffee table and headed out of the family room.
“Deacon Wray’s wife has had a stroke. I need to get over to St. Luke’s. You coming?”
She glanced at the clock and groaned inwardly. It was nearly ten p.m. Her body said no, but Randy’s posing of the question meant he wanted her to go. She did a mental rundown of what the boys were up to, to gauge whether she needed to give them further instructions before leaving. When she’d checked a few minutes ago, the three younger boys were in bed, reading, and Lem, who had his own room, was listening to music on his iPod and hanging out with friends via live video feeds on ooVoo. If only she had half his energy! She tried to shake off the weariness that gripped her this time every night and nodded.
“I’ll grab my purse and tell Lem we’re heading out.”
Shiloh took the time to shed her sweatpants and slip into a clean T-shirt and a pair of fat woman jeans (at least that’s what she called them) and sandals before trotting to the door. She grabbed the car keys off the credenza in the foyer and called for Randy.
“Come on, babe! I’ll drive.”
Once she’d settled behind the wheel of Randy’s car, Shiloh turned
down the radio so they could chat during the forty-five-minute drive to the hospital, just south of the city.
“What happened?”
Shiloh knew from the brevity of his conversation with Deacon Wray that he didn’t have a lot of details; but the call reminded her that Sister Wray hadn’t been at Bible study tonight, and she wasn’t one to miss.
“They were having dinner and she slumped over. He called 911 right away. Fortunately they live half a mile from a fire station, and the rescue squad was there in minutes.”
They rode the rest of the way to the hospital in silence, each lost in thought, and Shiloh uttered a prayer for Sister Wray. Her sudden illness would be upsetting to all of the older ladies in the congregation, especially to Sister Adelaide. They were more like sisters than friends, so she’d be worried sick. Shiloh made a mental note to call Sister Adelaide and send an email to the rest of her Bible study members tomorrow, to share the news and ask for their prayers.
She steered the car into the hospital entrance and gripped the wheel for comfort. The anxiety that always raced through her body in medical settings surfaced, as if on cue. Her throat tightened. Her shoulders tensed. Her heart thumped against her chest. How she hated hospitals. Always had since that horrible day years ago. Her procedure hadn’t taken place in a full-fledged hospital; still, most medical facilities, with their sterile whiteness and antiseptic smells, took her back in time.
Randy walked a few paces ahead of her as they entered the foyer. Shiloh took several deep breaths and shifted her focus to the cute toddler a woman walking in front of her bounced in her arms. The boy’s big brown eyes followed Shiloh until the woman stepped into an elevator and the doors closed behind them.
“You coming?”
Randy was waiting at a first-floor intersection. She pursed her lips and decided not to react to his impatience. Clearly neither of them had felt like leaving home this late in the evening, but his mood didn’t need to be contagious.
Randy’s regular visits to church members in the hospital made him an excellent navigator. He strode the hallways with confidence. Shiloh kept pace with him, and within minutes, they turned a corner together and found Deacon Wray standing outside of what must be his wife’s hospital room. His eyes were closed and his chin was touching his chest.
Shiloh’s heart sank. Were they too late? Was he praying or grieving?
Deacon Wray lifted his eyes. “Pastor, you came. Mrs. Griffin, thank you for coming, too.” He shook Randy’s hand before spreading his arms to give Shiloh a hug. The elderly man clung to her in what felt like a combination of fear and frailness. When Deacon Wray finally pulled away, Randy rested a hand on his shoulder, and Shiloh knew he was waiting for Deacon Wray to share his wife’s status before speaking and possibly uttering something inappropriate. Shiloh had seen her husband in this position many times over the years, and she still marveled at how masterfully he communicated compassion to his worried or grief-stricken members.
“She’s going to be okay, the doctors say.” Tears flooded Deacon Wray’s eyes as he whispered that news. “Thank God, thank God. She had me scared.”
“I can imagine.” Randy matched his tone to Deacon Wray’s. “Thank God.”
Deacon Wray lowered his head into his hands and sobbed. “I thought I’d lost her, Pastor,” he said when he had composed himself. “What would I have done?”
He was five to six inches shorter than Randy, and he leaned into
Randy until Randy embraced him and let him cry. This was the first time Shiloh had seen the stoic Deacon Wray show such deep emotion. It was obvious he’d been terrified to witness the stroke. Shiloh approached him and rubbed his arm.
“It’s going to be okay.”
She looked up to make eye contact with Randy, just as Vic and Jade emerged from Sister Wray’s room, hand in hand.
Shiloh glanced at her husband as surprise clouded his expression for a split second. She wished for the thousandth time she were half as good at masking her emotions. Jade and Vic could probably read all over her face her curiosity about why and how they had finagled some private time with Sister Wray.
“What a surprise.”
Randy’s tone conveyed Shiloh’s sentiments.
“Brothers in the pulpit, brothers in service,” Vic said.
He produced one of those megawatt smiles that routinely left female worshippers at St. Stephens Baptist weak-kneed. When Randy didn’t return the Colgate offering, Vic’s grin faded, and he cleared his throat.
“Well, Deacon Wray called us right after talking to you, and I figured it would be appropriate for us to come down. This sounded serious. Jade and I were in there praying over Sister Wray as she slept. I figured you’d do the same when you arrived. The more prayers, the better.”
Randy’s smile was fixed. “I see. Well, you’re right about that—the more the better.” He turned to Deacon Wray. “Is it okay if I go in?”
Deacon Wray nodded, and seemed oblivious to the exchange that had taken place between the two ministers.
Randy glanced at Vic but didn’t make eye contact. “You want to join me?”
Vic didn’t hesitate. He headed toward the room. “Of course.”
Randy motioned for Deacon Wray to join them. “The prayer is for you and Sister Wray.”
The men disappeared, leaving Shiloh with Jade, who was dressed to turn heads, even this time of night.
“This is late for you to be out, having little ones at home. Good thing your mom is here.” Shiloh made the statement for lack of anything better to say. If she brought up the women’s Bible study, the conversation might shift in a direction that wouldn’t be pretty.
“Both of the kids were fast asleep when Vic got the call from Deacon Wray,” Jade responded. “Mom can handle anything that comes up, so I felt comfortable tagging along. I need to do more outreach like this.”
Suddenly Shiloh was grateful she had accompanied Randy. Jade, who could have conveniently stayed home because of her two young children—and usually did—had volunteered to come. Were she and Vic waging one-upmanship war? And had Jade ever spoken to Sister Wray in church, or during her recent visits to Bible study? This diva’s eagerness to come to the hospital tonight was part of an agenda. Something was up, but Shiloh couldn’t figure out the “what” or the “why.”
If Vic had been selected senior pastor of St. Stephens Baptist over Randy, he wouldn’t be making that much more money; but was that what Jade was vying for? She already seemed to have her material needs met. Vic earned a handsome wage as full-time assistant pastor of their large church; and Jade had no qualms about strategically mentioning that her deceased father had left her a sizable inheritance. Plus, Vic having grown up in this city, in a tight-knit, well-to-do family, already provided Jade with a level of respect and prestige that Randy and Shiloh, as newcomers, were still working to earn. Shiloh wasn’t expecting any answers tonight, but she hated having to wait here with Jade and pretend those questions didn’t matter.
Shiloh and Jade lingered outside Sister Wray’s hospital room, eyeballing each other for a few minutes before Jade ended the awkwardness by whipping out her cell phone.
Shiloh was dying to know who she was calling this time of night to chat about what seemed to be her favorite interests—an upcoming Saks Fifth Avenue sale or her new designer bag. But instead of dialing a number, Jade leaned against the wall and scrolled through her emails or texts.
Shiloh decided to find the waiting room and call her boys. She peered in both directions until she noticed a sign indicating there was one down a hall to the left.
“I’ll be back,” she told Jade. “I’m going to grab a seat for a while.”
Jade lowered her cell phone. “Wait—I’ll come with you.”
Shiloh paused and silently recited the Golden Rule.
Do unto others as you would have them do unto you …
Jade tossed the phone into her satchel bag and motioned for Shiloh to lead the way. “Bible study went well tonight, don’t you think?”
Here we go.
Shiloh couldn’t help but frown. “Do you?”
Jade seemed confused. “Well, yes, I thought it was great. I’m going to enjoy co-teaching the class.”
“After inviting yourself to do so, I would hope you would.”
There, she had said it. Shiloh had kicked political correctness to the curb, but she felt better.
Jade stopped walking and put a hand on her hip. “What was that?”
Shiloh wished she could pull out her iPhone and hit record. This woman deserved an Oscar for the innocent facade she could master at a second’s notice.
“Nothing, Jade. Are you coming?”
Jade stayed put for a few seconds, and Shiloh knew she was debating whether to respond. When she resumed walking beside Shiloh, she changed the subject. “So, are you looking forward to the public school teaching you’ll be doing soon?” Jade asked. “Why were you looking for work anyway? And are you still going to give Naima flute lessons?”
Here we go again …
Shiloh’s reply was purposely measured. “Actually, I wasn’t looking,” she said. “I was presented with an opportunity to help out in a pinch as a substitute music teacher for a while, and it just so happens that I’m going to give it a shot, that’s all. And yes, I’ll continue teaching all of my private flute students, including Naima. I would have told you right away if I were planning to stop.”
Shiloh fixed her face with what she hoped was a sweet smile. Why did she allow this woman to bring out the worst in her?
They entered the waiting room, and Shiloh spotted several seats near the flat-screen TV mounted to a wall in the far corner. Besides those few chairs, every seat was filled with anxious, bleary-eyed, sleeping, or tearful men and women. Half a dozen squirming kids rounded out the hodge-podge of occupants.
Shiloh slid into the cushioned chair closest to the TV and fixed her gaze on CNN. Medical correspondent Dr. Sanjay Gupta was reporting, and Shiloh hoped her obvious interest in his description of childhood brain trauma would limit conversation. Then again, wishing Jade wouldn’t talk was like wishing water didn’t pour when it rained.
Jade sat next to her and leaned close. “Well, however it came about, congrats on your job. I haven’t worked for someone else in so
long, I probably wouldn’t know how to behave. Plus, my schedule stays full these days, with taking care of Naima and little Nick. So … to my first question of the night: How do you think our Bible study sessions are going?”
Shiloh noted Jade’s terminology. After just two meetings—one of which Jade took over, and the other of which she declared herself co-leader—she was already referring to the weekly studies as a mutual project.
“I really don’t know, Jade. What do you think?”
“I think we’ve got to gel, to figure out how we work best together, but I think it’s going to be good for the members of St. Stephens Baptist to see their First Lady and Second Lady partnering, one with the perspective of an older woman and mother, and the other a mom of younger kids.”
Shiloh glared at her. There was a six-year difference in their ages; surely Jade wasn’t calling her old. Regardless, Shiloh felt every inch the thirty-eight-year-old hag when she sized herself up next to her “Second Lady,” a term she was convinced Jade had coined. In all of her years as a preacher’s kid, she’d never heard another assistant or associate pastor’s wife refer to herself this way, or called by this title by others in a congregation.
“Since you’re wanting to help lead, I think you’re right; it’s going to take some time for us to figure out the best way to work together and support the women we’re serving,” Shiloh said.
As she offered the olive branch, it struck her that maybe Randy was right; maybe she was wrong for resenting Jade’s desire to get more involved with the Bible study. She had no right to act as if she owned the role. Maybe God was using Jade’s newfound interest to help some of the women in ways only he understood.
Jade leaned in closer as the chatter around them grew. “What was the last part of what you said? Couldn’t hear you over the TV.”
Shiloh shook her head and glanced at the screen. “Nothing worth repeating.”
Jade shrugged and fell silent and fixed her gaze on Headline News report. Shiloh texted Lem and Omari to see if they had gone to bed yet. Lem replied seconds later.
In bed, listening to music. Lights out soon. Everything ok?
Omari’s lack of response meant he had fallen asleep, Shiloh surmised. She updated Lem on Sister Wray’s condition and suggested that he soon follow his brothers to dreamland.
Even grown teenagers need rest.
Lem replied with a smiley face.
Shiloh glanced at the time on her cell phone and wondered how much longer Randy would stay. It was nearly midnight. Her schedule wasn’t as flexible these days as it used to be. She needed to get to bed so she could rise early for work. There wasn’t much left to do to get the band room ready for school next week, but she still had to be there by nine a.m. At this point, it was inevitable that she’d have to down more than one cup of coffee in the morning to stay alert.
When Randy and Vic appeared in the doorway of the waiting room about fifteen minutes later, she wanted to cheer. Randy motioned for Shiloh and Jade to join them.
“Thank God,” Jade said. “I was about to curl up in this seat and call it a night, and you know that would have been a hot mess for my hair and mascara.”
Shiloh couldn’t help but chuckle. Somehow she had wound up with a sidekick who served as her personal version of Whitley Gilbert,
the character from the TV sitcom
A Different World.
The Whitley on the show seemed bearable, compared to Jade, but maybe that was because one could watch for half an hour or change channels. Jade wasn’t planning to go anywhere, and in fact was becoming more entrenched in Shiloh’s world.
Shiloh, Randy, and the boys had been in Milwaukee for nearly two years, yet Jade had become more interested in her family in the past two weeks than ever before. Randy thought nothing of it, but Shiloh believed in the wisdom Mama had always shared, to keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Firsthand experience over the years had made this one of her personal truths.
The two couples left the waiting room and paused in front of the information desk in the lobby.
“See you at the church tomorrow, Rev,” Randy said to Vic. “That’s assuming that we don’t get any more calls from members tonight.”
“Don’t speak that into existence, man!” Vic shook his head and draped his muscular arm around Jade’s shoulders, maneuvering her out of the sliding glass doors. “See you in the morn.”
When Shiloh and Randy reached their car, Randy extended his hand for her keys. “I left mine at home. I don’t mind driving.”
She handed them over and walked around to the passenger side.
“What did you think about Vic showing up like that?” she asked on the ride home.
“I don’t know, babe,” Randy said after a long pause. “Not sure what that was about. I’ve got my eyes open, though. I’m watching and listening.”
Shiloh was glad to hear it. She hated for church to be about politics and competition, but she also knew this was Randy’s livelihood, as well as his life’s purpose. He needed to be both prayerful and alert.