Simon was a teenager.”
Mrs. Mattie nodded, recalling the story. “I know that hit Reverend Jackson hard. He loved that church. My sister went there and I remember her telling me the members had voted to get rid of Reverend Jackson because they said the church wasn’t prospering under him. His health deteriorated after that, he was so distraught.”
“I know,” Loretta continued. “And when he finally died of heart failure on the day of Simon’s high school graduation, Simon was devastated. I believe my husband is now trying to accomplish what his father could not. But Simon would never admit to that. He won’t even talk about his father and the church. Always just changes the subject.”
Rachel listened on in awe as she moved a plate into the other side of the sink to await rinsing. She had never known that about her father. She knew her grandfather was a minister, but she had no idea he had lost his church.
Loretta tried to shake off the melancholy look that had crept up on her face. “Whatever the reason, my husband is happiest when he’s giving his all to Zion Hill. I know that the kids have a hard time accepting that, but I’m hopeful at some point we can find a happy medium.”
At some point? Rachel wanted to scream. They were all freaking grown now. What difference did it make now whether he came around? Anything her father tried to give them now was too little, too late as far as she was concerned.
Mrs. Mattie took Loretta’s hand.
“You can try to kid yourself all you want about it not making a difference, but it’s hurting your family. And I know you well enough to know it’s hurting you, too. I just think you’re too stubborn to admit it, because you gotta be a good and supportive first lady.” Mrs. Mattie released her hold, her expression turning deadly serious. “You better get your husband straight before your children are too far gone, if they ain’t already.”
8
“S EE, IT FITS PERFECTLY . Just like when you left!”
Loretta beamed at Jonathan, who was wearing a navy blue and yellow choir robe. It was the same one he had had five years ago. She had kept it stored nicely in a box in the closet, awaiting his return home.
“It’s a choir robe, Ma. I’d have to gain a lot of weight for me to outgrow it,” Jonathan said, joking.
Simon called from downstairs that he was about to leave, so Jonathan and his mother quickly gathered up their things and raced downstairs.
“You nervous, Son?” Simon asked once they were nearing the church.
Jonathan stared at the large brick building that had been their second home for as long as he could remember. He could tell whoever built Zion Hill had put a lot of love into it. Each window was intricately adorned with a myriad of colors. The tall, white cross that sat on the front lawn loomed high above the structure, giving an appearance that it guarded all those who entered.
“No, Dad. I’m right at home, working for the Lord.” Jonathan felt horrible making a comment like that, but he knew it was what his father wanted to hear.
Simon gushed with pride. “That’s my son!”
They pulled into the pastor’s parking spot in the back of the church, then headed inside. Jonathan separated from his parents to rehearse his solo in the choir room.
He was softly singing when he felt someone watching him. He turned around and released a gentle smile at Angela Brooks, his high school sweetheart.
“Hello, Angela,” he said. Angela was a tall, elegant, caramel-colored beauty who could’ve very well pursued a career in modeling. She was wearing a burgundy, calf-length peasant dress that looked stunning on her.
“Hi. I heard you were back in town. How long have you been here?” Angela asked.
“Just got back recently.”
“Oh, and you couldn’t call anyone?” Angela crossed her arms and pretended to pout.
Jonathan put his music notes down on the table and walked toward her. “I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me.”
Angela’s
Mrs. Mattie nodded, recalling the story. “I know that hit Reverend Jackson hard. He loved that church. My sister went there and I remember her telling me the members had voted to get rid of Reverend Jackson because they said the church wasn’t prospering under him. His health deteriorated after that, he was so distraught.”
“I know,” Loretta continued. “And when he finally died of heart failure on the day of Simon’s high school graduation, Simon was devastated. I believe my husband is now trying to accomplish what his father could not. But Simon would never admit to that. He won’t even talk about his father and the church. Always just changes the subject.”
Rachel listened on in awe as she moved a plate into the other side of the sink to await rinsing. She had never known that about her father. She knew her grandfather was a minister, but she had no idea he had lost his church.
Loretta tried to shake off the melancholy look that had crept up on her face. “Whatever the reason, my husband is happiest when he’s giving his all to Zion Hill. I know that the kids have a hard time accepting that, but I’m hopeful at some point we can find a happy medium.”
At some point? Rachel wanted to scream. They were all freaking grown now. What difference did it make now whether he came around? Anything her father tried to give them now was too little, too late as far as she was concerned.
Mrs. Mattie took Loretta’s hand.
“You can try to kid yourself all you want about it not making a difference, but it’s hurting your family. And I know you well enough to know it’s hurting you, too. I just think you’re too stubborn to admit it, because you gotta be a good and supportive first lady.” Mrs. Mattie released her hold, her expression turning deadly serious. “You better get your husband straight before your children are too far gone, if they ain’t already.”
8
“S EE, IT FITS PERFECTLY . Just like when you left!”
Loretta beamed at Jonathan, who was wearing a navy blue and yellow choir robe. It was the same one he had had five years ago. She had kept it stored nicely in a box in the closet, awaiting his return home.
“It’s a choir robe, Ma. I’d have to gain a lot of weight for me to outgrow it,” Jonathan said, joking.
Simon called from downstairs that he was about to leave, so Jonathan and his mother quickly gathered up their things and raced downstairs.
“You nervous, Son?” Simon asked once they were nearing the church.
Jonathan stared at the large brick building that had been their second home for as long as he could remember. He could tell whoever built Zion Hill had put a lot of love into it. Each window was intricately adorned with a myriad of colors. The tall, white cross that sat on the front lawn loomed high above the structure, giving an appearance that it guarded all those who entered.
“No, Dad. I’m right at home, working for the Lord.” Jonathan felt horrible making a comment like that, but he knew it was what his father wanted to hear.
Simon gushed with pride. “That’s my son!”
They pulled into the pastor’s parking spot in the back of the church, then headed inside. Jonathan separated from his parents to rehearse his solo in the choir room.
He was softly singing when he felt someone watching him. He turned around and released a gentle smile at Angela Brooks, his high school sweetheart.
“Hello, Angela,” he said. Angela was a tall, elegant, caramel-colored beauty who could’ve very well pursued a career in modeling. She was wearing a burgundy, calf-length peasant dress that looked stunning on her.
“Hi. I heard you were back in town. How long have you been here?” Angela asked.
“Just got back recently.”
“Oh, and you couldn’t call anyone?” Angela crossed her arms and pretended to pout.
Jonathan put his music notes down on the table and walked toward her. “I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me.”
Angela’s
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