promise to not take more than two minutes of your time,” the stranger interrupted, his hand already on the chair opposite her. Still, he waited.
“I guess I can spare two minutes,” Millicent said, reluctantly but not unkind. She looked at her watch to indicate the seriousness of her intent to hold him to the time limit.
The stranger smiled. He had bright, even teeth in a slightly tanned face. His windblown hair was sandy blond streaked with lighter, almost white highlights, making his a distinguished yet playful look. His face looked young, very few lines, but when he smiled, faint crow’s feet appeared at the corners of his eyes. “Jack Kirtz,” he offered, his hand outstretched.
“Millicent Sims,” she responded, shaking his hand lightly.
He pulled out the chair, talking as he did so. “I saw you walking along the beach, enjoying the view.” Jack had enjoyed the view also, only he hadn’t been looking at the ocean. He decided to keep the conversation official, however, and not verbalize his attraction to this tantalizing stranger. “It’s rare I get a chance to do this,” he continued, “take time off in the middle of the day. Good to do though, take a moment and enjoy God’s creation. I’ve been making a point to try and do it more often.”
Millicent nodded, but remained silent. His opening lines had taken up almost thirty seconds.
“Listen, I stopped because I’m a pastor and, believe it or not, this is not something I get to do often, but I’d like to invite you to services this Sunday.” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a business card. “Do you live in the area?”
“La Jolla,” Millicent said, scanning the card.
“Oh, nice, very nice. So you must work around here then?”
Millicent was not up for twenty questions, especially from this ministerial stranger. She’d made it a point to stay busy and focus only on work and keeping spiritually fed through tapes and television. Her dear friend, Alison, sent what she thought were inspirational, uplifting messages regularly, messages she thought Millicent would enjoy. And they talked every week. There were only two topics off-limits: Cy and Kingdom Citizens.
And then there was the fact that this man was a pastor. The thought of going into anyone’s sanctuary elicited an involuntary twitch in her stomach. Her mom’s small Methodist church had been different, perhaps because her mom had been there. The congregation was barely a hundred people, most over sixty years of age. But the thought of seeing someone she knew, especially someone who knew about “the incident,” had been a motivating factor in her relocating almost two hours away from LA. She wondered if even that were far enough away. Sister Vivian had called a few times when Millicent first arrived in Portland, but Millicent had asked her mom to politely refuse the calls. She truly loved her, but First Lady Montgomery was too close to all that she was trying to forget. Millicent had rediscovered herself in Portland, and realized that as busy as she’d been with KCCC, a solitary life was sometimes okay. Now was one of those times.
These thoughts quickly ran through her mind, one right after the other. And then the waiter brought her food, steaming hot and smelling delicious. Perfect timing for the dismissal that was about to take place.
“It was nice to meet you, Mr. Kirtz; thanks for the invitation,” Millicent said, dropping his business card into her purse and picking up a fry. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d rather enjoy my lunch alone.” She smiled briefly to show there were no hard feelings.
Jack got the message and stood up. “Jack, please, call me Jack. Whenever you could come by, we’d love to have you. Ours is a small congregation, but we’re serious about spreading God’s love. Enjoy your meal, and the day.” With that he flashed another smile, turned, and walked toward the bicycle path she’d taken earlier.
After he was well out of sight and she’d eaten half of the sandwich and fries, Millicent reached into her purse and retrieved the business card. “Open Arms Ministries” was centered in bold, with “T. Jackson Kirtz, Pastor,” underneath. The contact information filled the bottom of the card, just above a line of scripture: “Mercy unto you, and peace and love be multiplied. Jude 1:2.”
Millicent stared at the card a moment before dropping it on the table. She shrugged, as if dismissing the entire episode. But the words of the scripture repeated themselves in her head, and were soothing in a distant, mellow sort of way. She finished her sandwich and pushed the rest of the fries aside. Swallowing the last of the tea, she stood, put on her jacket, and grabbed her purse. Another cursory glance at the card and then she turned and walked purposefully up the walk and away from Jack’s outreach efforts. She’d appreciated the scripture though, and thought to write it in her journal when she got home. God knew she could use His mercy and peace, and love, for the time being from Him alone. Or from Cy Taylor. “No, God’s love is enough,” Millicent said aloud. But was it?
7
It’s Still Good
“I just have one question,” King whispered, as he drew lazy circles around Tai’s cinnamon-colored nipple. He bent down and licked it lightly, causing an involuntary shiver down her spine.
“What’s that?” Tai turned her head and looked at King.
“Is it still good to you?”
Tai smiled, and continued the familiar Ashford and Simpson tune. “Yes,” she said, kissing his soft, full lips, and kissing them again. “And it feels more than alright.”
Her body was still vibrating, singing the praises of his lovemaking skills. They were spending a rare Saturday morning alone, and making the most of it.
“I think it gets better with time, baby.”
“I think you’re right.”
Tai ran her hands up and down King’s back, which was still slightly moist from their zealous coupling. She agreed with what he said. Lately, their sex was some of the best they’d ever had. She turned and snuggled her back against King’s body, spoon style. He rocked up against her, brushed his hand over her still throbbing pussy, and pulled her closer. Tai closed her eyes, a smile dancing across her lips. She’d thanked Vivian more than once for calming her down last month, preventing her from blowing Tootie’s return out of proportion. Especially since, when King returned from his meetings at the church that day, he’d asked if Tai knew about Tootie being in town to care for her mother. Tai had watched King’s face as he delivered the news, had looked for signs of she knew not what exactly. But he’d seemed pretty casual about it and she’d responded in kind, even encouraged him to go to the hospital and pray for Miss Smith.
Even with her rush to judgment about Tootie’s return, Tai had matured in both her marriage and her faith in God. Realizing she was only being human, she forgave herself for her initial reaction. The memories of King’s past behavior were fading, but not gone. God was still a miracle worker, because if anyone had told her a few months ago she’d be contently snuggled up in King’s arms, she would have asked what drugs they were using. A few months ago, she’d contemplated divorcing King, leaving the church and the city. A few months ago, she’d felt worlds apart from her husband, unable to reach him. And she had been. A woman named April had been in the way.
Tai read a book once that suggested there was a blessing in everything, that one just had to look for it. Who would have thought that out of an extramarital affair would emerge a union that was closer, stronger, better than it had ever been?
Reconnecting after the last affair hadn’t been easy for either of them. King had to get over his guilt and Tai had to lose her anger. Both had to forgive, each other and themselves. They’d had to learn to love each other all over again, make their relationship fresh and new. They’d implemented “date night,” where once or twice a month they let Mama Max watch the kids while they went out to dinner, the theater, a concert, or a movie. Sometimes they’d pass a nice hotel and spend the night, adding some scenic variety to their renewed romance. Tai had taken Vivian’s advice on how to spice up the marriage, and one day, when King came home late, it was to a woman