“There you are!” Kandi waved from our usual pew, third row from the front on the right side. She was bouncing her granddaughter Zoe on her knee, the two-month-old was dressed in a red dress with a matching bow. Mama Nettie sat beside her, fussing with her silk scarf.
I slid in beside them, immediately reaching to stroke Zoe’s chubby cheek. “Look at this little love bug angel. How’s Zariah doing?” I asked softly, knowing Kandi’s daughter had been struggling since her boyfriend chose to be with his other child’s mother.
“She’s hanging in there,” Kandi whispered, adjusting the baby’s dress. “Stayed home to get some sleep while I did grandmother duty. Church is good for my soul, and this little one needs all the blessings she can get.” Her eyes moved to my stomach. “That pink is stunning on you, by the way.”
“I agree,” Mama Nettie chimed in.
“Thank you.”
Pastor Williams took the pulpit with his usual commanding presence, his dark suit pressed to perfection, Bible in hand. The man had always been handsome. Tall, dark-skinned, broad-shouldered, with silver threading through his black, wavy hair and a smile that could charm the offerings right out of your purse.
“Good morning, Mount Olive family!”
“Good morning, Pastor!” the congregation called back.
“On this beautiful Valentine’s morning, I want to talk to you about love.” His voice was smooth as good whiskey, and he started clapping a gentle rhythm that had people swaying in their seats. “First Corinthians tells us that love is patient, love is kind...”
The words washed over the congregation. Heads nodded, and “Amens” punctuated his sentences.
I snuck a peek at my watch. Aris was waiting in the parking lot, probably checking emails and making deals.
He’d been really mysterious about our plans after church. Knowing him, it could be anything from lunch at some fancy place to whisking me off in that plane of his. Either way, I was itching to find out.
Little Zoe began to fuss, and Kandi passed her to me with a grateful smile. I rocked her, thinking about how in a few months I’d be holding my babies.
The pastor’s eyes swept across the sanctuary, making that pastoral eye contact that made everyone feel seen and heard. When his gaze landed on me, there was a tightening around his eyes, and his smile disappeared.
“But sometimes,” Pastor Williams continued, stepping closer to the edge of the platform, his hand resting on his open Bible though he barely glanced down at it, “we confuse desire with love. We think because something feels good, it must be good.”
The congregation murmured agreement, and my mind drifted to how my whole body responded when Aris’ fingers brushed against mine, and how his scent made me dizzy with wanting. That pull between us was like gravity itself, something I couldn’t fight even when my better judgment screamed at me to keep my distance.
But Pastor Williams’ words pinched me. Was this just desire? The kind of fleeting passion that would burn out and leave nothing but ashes?
“Proverbs warns us about the bitter end of forbidden affection. About how desire, when it conceives, births not innocence, but sin.” His voice remained calm. “Some of us believe love excuses disobedience. But real love doesn’t ask us to compromise holiness for comfort.”
“He’s not being subtle today,” Kandi whispered, taking Zoe back. She dug in the diaper bag for a bottle.
“When a shepherd sees a ewe stray into a lion’s den, he doesn’t clap; he weeps. He calls her back before it’s too late,” the pastor continued.
I nearly rolled my eyes. To everyone else, it probably sounded like an impassioned pastor warning his flock about temptation. But I knew he was a man nursing hurt feelings over the dinner invitations I’d declined for the past two years.
The service couldn’t end fast enough. When Pastor Williams finally gave the benediction, I was ready to make a quick exit.
“Don’t you dare leave me to face the judgment committee alone,” Kandi hissed.
“Never.” I squeezed Mama Nettie’s hand and leaned over to kiss her cheek. “I’ll pick you up on Thursday for bingo at the community center?”
“You better,” she said, patting my belly. “I’ll bring those peanut butter cookies you like.”
The congratulatory crowd filling the aisle blocked our escape. People swarmed around us, cooing over Zoe, wanting to know how I was feeling, touching my belly, and offering unsolicited advice about the pregnancy as if this was my first rodeo.
By the time we made it to the door, Pastor Williams was standing there. “Good to see you, Sister Deanna, Sister Kandi.” His eyes dropped to my expanding stomach, then to baby Zoe. “I’ve been praying for both your families.”
“Thank you, Pastor,” Kandi answered with a smile. “The prayers are working. Zariah got that job at the hospital, and my son got into the Air Force.”
“That’s wonderful news,” he said, though his attention remained on me. “And you, Sister Deanna? How are you finding God’s grace in your... situation?”
“Abundant,” I kept my voice pleasant. “New life is a miracle, wouldn’t you say?”
