The Perfect Christian by E. N. Joy Page A

Well, she would take her gift and use it to bless the finances of her home.
    â€œWillie? Willie, guess what? The Holy Spirit just gave me a wonderful idea,” Doreen exclaimed as she barged into the house. She couldn’t wait to tell her husband about the entrepreneurial spirit that had just been dropped into her being. She was so excited to share her news with Willie that she didn’t even stay for fellowship in the dining hall like she usually did. She had raced straight home instead.
    Usually Willie was always sitting in the living room in his favorite chair watching television when Doreen got home from church, but to Doreen’s surprise, not today. Only his shoes sat in front of the chair. Doreen walked over and picked them up and sighed. “That Willie. I’ve told him a million times about leaving his shoes laying around. What’s he want me to do? Trip over them and break my . . .” Doreen’s words trailed off as she spotted another pair of shoes, but unless Willie wore black open toe patent leather high-heel shoes, this pair was not his. They certainly weren’t hers.
    All of a sudden Doreen gasped, and Willie’s shoes fell out of her hand and to the floor. Both her hands dropped to her belly, and she held it as if she was trying to keep her insides from spilling out. Her eyes became moist as she shook her head and mumbled, “No, Willie, not in my house—not in our house . . . in my bed.”
    She began to tremble as she picked up the pair of women’s shoes. She began taking steps toward her closed bedroom door. The closer she got, she could hear some whispering and shuffling around inside. Doreen reached for the doorknob. Did she really want to know what was going on, on the other side of that door? Would whatever she saw lead her back to her parents’ home, and for good this time?
    Just standing there at the door with her hand on the knob she had yet to turn, Doreen waited for the answers to all of the questions that had been running through her head. None came—not soon enough anyway, because before she knew it, she had flung the door wide open.
    â€œDoreen, baby! What you doing here?” Willie said as he stood over by the open window with no shirt on and his britches barely pulled up.
    Doreen looked around the small room. Willie was alone. She walked over to the closet, opened the door, and did a search. No one was in there. She walked over to the bed, kneeled down, and looked under it. No one was there. She stood back up and shot Willie a glare.
    Nervous as all get out, Willie asked, “Wha . . . what are you looking for, sweetness?” As he spoke, he inched in front of the open window. Just then, Doreen heard some tires peeling off. She ran over to the window, but Willie was there to block her.
    â€œWhat you doing, honey? I’m so glad you’re home. I’m so glad to see you.” Willie swooped Doreen up and embraced her, spinning her around in the air as if he hadn’t seen his wife in a month of Sundays.
    â€œPut me down this instant, Willie Tucker,” Doreen spat as she wiggled and squirmed out of his arms. She immediately stuck her head out of the window only in time to witness the dust the speeding car had left behind. Doreen wasn’t no betting woman, but she was sure enough willing to bet the farm that whoever owned that getaway car also owned those high-heel shoes she held in her hand. “Who was she, Willie? Who did you have in my house?” Doreen was so angry, but she was hurt more than anything as she said the words, “In my bed? That’s our bed, Willie.”
    â€œWoman, you crazy. Ain’t no other woman been in this house,” Willie said with a straight face.
    â€œOh yeah? Then who do these belong to?” Doreen held up the shoes to a dumbfounded Willie.
    â€œUh, well, uh, why, those belong to you,” he stammered. “Yeah, I, uh, won them in a card game last night at the