Let the Church Say Amen Read online

  She turned her attention to Rachel, who was leaning against one of the counters, pouting. “Gal, rinse out that teakettle and boil us some hot water.”

  Again, Rachel wanted to protest, but her mother’s sharp look stopped her. Rachel huffed, snatched the teakettle, and emptied out the brown liquid that had probably been sitting in there for weeks. It was bad enough she had to play Hazel the maid, but then they were bringing their conversation into the kitchen, where she would be forced to listen.

  Mrs. Mattie sat down across from Loretta at the table. “What about Pastor Jackson? How’s he?”

  “He’s doing fine. He’s at the church right now,” Loretta replied.

  “Lord, every time I talk to you that man is at the church. Doesn’t that bother you?”

  Rachel filled the kettle, placed it on the stove, then turned the fire on as she leaned back. She wanted to hear her mother’s response to Mrs. Mattie’s question.

  “No, I’m okay with it.”

  Rachel let out a long sigh. How could anybody be okay with never seeing their husband? she wondered as she poured dishwashing liquid and began running hot water in the sink.

  “Now, Loretta. You must not forget that I was married for fifty-one years to a minister. And I never did get used to the time he spent in the church.” Mrs. Mattie leaned in and lowered her voice. “Maybe if he had spent more time at home, you wouldn’t be dealing with such a fast one over there.”

  Loretta snickered. Rachel wanted to turn around and throw a plate at Mrs. Mattie. Despite the fact that Mrs. Mattie lowered her voice, Rachel had the strangest feeling Mrs. Mattie could care less whether Rachel heard her or not.

  “Simon is there enough for our family,” Loretta said.

  “Hmph, no, he’s not,” Rachel muttered as she scrubbed what seemed like two-month-old beans from a plastic bowl.

  “Uh, excuse me,” Mrs. Mattie interjected. “This is grown folks’ business.”

  I am grown, Rachel wanted to say. But for the life of her she just couldn’t bring herself to say anything smart to Mrs. Mattie.

  “As I was saying,” Mrs. Mattie continued, “kids need both of their parents full time, especially boys. Speaking of boys, how are them boys?”

  “Jonathan is home now,” Loretta replied.

  “Oh, that’s wonderful. That’s a sweet boy if I ever seen one. You all must be so proud of him.”

  Rachel wanted to gag. If she never heard another pro Jonathan comment in her life, it would be too soon.

  “As for David,” Loretta kept talking, “he’s still going through some things. You know the devil is at work on him.”

  “Umm-hmm,” Mrs. Mattie tsked. “And from what I hear, the devil is winning.”

  Loretta’s voice softened. “I’m staying prayerful.”

  “Well, I guess that’s all you can do. Just make sure at the top of your prayer list, you put that one there,” Mrs. Mattie said, pointing at Rachel. Rachel was getting just about fed up. Here she was, elbow deep in nasty dishwater and this woman was talking about her.

  “You’re a better woman than me,” Mrs. Mattie continued. “I had to put my foot down and tell Cecil he was goin’ have to spend more time with us and less with that church.”

  Rachel stifled a sarcastic laugh. That would be the day. Her mother putting her foot down, yeah, right.

  “Oh, I could never do that. I believe in letting Simon be the head of the household.”

  Mrs. Mattie shook her head sympathetically. “Chile, it’s one thing to let your husband lead and another for you to follow him blindly.”

  Finally, Rachel thought, Mrs. Mattie said something that made some sense.

  “I would never say Simon is leading us blindly.”

  “Take it from me, I’ve been there. All you have to do is look at your children. I know Simon, been knowing him since he was knee-high to a pup. Knew his daddy, too. The difference is the elder Reverend Jackson knew how to say no. He knew how to delegate to others so it didn’t take away from his family. You see out of eight of that Jackson clan, near ’bout all of ’em doing well. I don’t know why Simon is so gung-ho on the church. He lets everybody tell him what they need him to do, then them folks go home to their family.”

  Loretta sighed. “Mrs. Mattie, I stopped long ago trying to figure out what was the driving force behind Simon’s desire to make Zion Hill the best church in the country, which is his ultimate goal. Personally, I believe it has something to do with the fact that his father lost his church when 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

  “SEE, 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 smile faded. “You thought right.”

  Jonathan looked to see if she was joking. He surmised that she wasn’t. She looked as lovely as the last day he’d seen her. Although now, her long locks had been replaced by a short feathered and flipped haircut. It was beautiful on her, accenting her almond-shaped, hazel eyes.

  “You cut your hair off?”

  “I needed a change.”

  Jonathan could see the pain in her eyes. “Look, Angela, I’m sorry.”

  Angela stopped him before he could continue. “Hey, don’t apologize to me. I get dumped by the loves of my life all the time. I’m used to it.”

  Jonathan didn’t know what to say. He knew this day would come. He and Angela had not ended their relationship on good terms. “I didn’t dump you.”

  “Oh no, what do you call it?”

  “We just kind of grew apart, that’s all.”

  Angela looked at him like she wanted to give him some choice words right there in the church. “No, you grew apart. You changed. I remember how difficult it was to get you to even kiss me after you came back from school two years ago. You seldom called and when we did see each other, you were distant. And after you went back your junior year, you wouldn’t even make love to me.”

  “I told you I just wanted to stop fornicating.” Jonathan was having a hard time looking Angela in the eyes. She was right. He had become distant from her. He kept trying to get the nerve to break things off with her, but he always backed out. He didn’t want to do it over the phone, and when he saw her over the Christmas holidays, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

  Angela rolled her eyes in frustration. “Oh, Jonathan. Save that, please. I know that’s what you told me. But I also know you. You may be a preacher’s son, but you liked having sex with me, premarital or not.”

  She was right about that, too. He used to love being with her. Angela had to be the best lover he ever had, and he’d been with his share of girls since losing his virginity at fifteen to his best friend’s twenty-three-year-old sister. The funny part was, everyone thought he was so sweet and innocent, including his father, but Jonathan had been around. He just knew how to keep his trysts secret. Even when he and Angela were together, he had all kinds of women on the side. That all changed, though, when he met Tracy.

  “Angela, where is this conversation going?” Jonathan asked, wanting to remove himself from her glare.

  “Nowhere, Jonathan. I’m not mad at you, I respect your decision. I just wish you had been man enough to tell me you’d found someone else.”

  Jonathan froze. What did she know? He had taken the coward’s way out: sending her a brief “Dear Jane” letter, telling her that he wanted to concentrate on graduating and that they should go their separate ways. He totally avoided her calls and never returned her tear-filled, then anger-filled, messages. She had called him everything but a child of God. Finally, after about a month she just stopped calling. Fortunately for him, he hadn’t run into her on his trips home from school. This was their first time talking in over a year and a half.

  “Wh … what do you mean, someone else,” Jonathan stammered.

  Angela laughed at his nervousness. “You never have been good at lying. I know you went down to Morehouse and found you another woman, a college girl and all. But I’m okay with that.” Angela nodded like she had prepared for this moment many times.

  Jonathan’s nervousness eased and his eyes softened. He reached out and took her hand. “Angela, I didn’t leave you for anyone else. Okay? That much I promise you.” He wasn’t totally lying. He hadn’t broken up with her because of Tracy per se. But rather because he was confused about what he wanted.

  Angela looked at him like she desperately wanted to believe him. Finally, she spoke. “Whatever you say, Jonathan. I just wanted to say hello.” She turned to leave, then stopped and looked back over her shoulder. “And, oh yeah, good luck with your song today.”

  Jonathan nodded his head to say thank you and watched Angela walk into the sanctuary. He hated hurting her; she had been really good to him. But he had changed when he went to college. He thought that he was in love with Angela while they were together, but Tracy had shown him what true love really was. Tracy had introduced him to feelings he never knew existed. Feelings that had changed him completely.

  “Oh, Tracy,” Jonathan said softly to himself. “I really miss you.”

  “Boy, are you in here talking to yourself?” Jonathan hadn’t noticed his father come in the other door to the choir room.

  Jonathan laughed nervously. “No, Dad, I was just practicing.”

  “You don’t need no practice.” Simon slapped him on the back. “You got natural-born, God-given talent. I just saw Angela leave. She’s looking beautiful as usual. It sure would make me proud to see you two get together.” Simon winked. “Well, let’s get going; service is about to start.”

  Simon led his son out to the pulpit just as the processional music began playing. Jonathan took his seat next to his father. Only associate pastors were supposed to sit in the pulpit, but Simon had been adamant about Jonathan sitting with him.

  The service flowed along smoothly. As one of the members finished giving the church announcements, Jonathan moved to the mic at the west end of the choir stand. The pianist started playing and Jonathan, removing the mic from the stand, began rocking back and forth to the music. The words to “Precious Lord” were emblazoned in his heart, it was his mother’s favorite song. He had learned it by the time he was five years old, so he could’ve sung it without the music.

  Surprisingly, he felt totally at home. Singing had always been his passion. He had been singing in the choir since he was a little boy. He even sang with an R&B band in Atlanta. His father would have had a heart attack if he knew that. It would have also hurt him to know that Jonathan very seldom attended church at school and wasn’t active in a choir there.

  Jonathan didn’t realize how much he missed gospel music until he started getting into his song. He bellowed out his solo, his voice getting louder and stronger as he went along. When he was finished with his part, he turned to the choir and had them join in. It was absolutely amazing. When the choir was finished, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house.

  Simon was the first one on his feet, applauding like crazy. Jonathan stretched his arms skyward. The spirit had really moved through him today. That was surprising because he didn’t think it was possible anymore.

  He looked out at the crowd adorning him with love, and joy filled his heart. The only thing that would make this moment more complete would be having Tracy by his side. But that was a pipe dream. As much as he felt at home at Zion Hill, the church would never welcome Tracy. The members were old school and they’d never understand how he could possibly be in love with another man.

  9

  RACHEL GLARED AT the clock over the choir stand. 1:45. It sounded like her father was nowhere near winding down. He had signaled for the organist to cut the music, usually a sign that he had no intentions of wrapping up his sermon anytime soon.

  “And the Lord giveth and He taketh away!” Simon bellowed.

  Rachel had no idea what her father was talking about. She usually didn’t pay much attention to his sermons. Hadn’t in years. It seemed like he was always preaching directly to her and she had had enough of that growing up. Heck, the only reason she even bothered coming to church was because her father had vowed they’d stop watching her kids if she didn’t. And their babysitting was the only thing keeping her sane. She loved her children, but she was still young and wanted
to party. But now, sitting there watching the hands on the clock inch closer to two, she was starting to wonder if it was all worth it.

  “I know someone here today is fighting the word of God,” Simon continued.

  Thank you, Jesus. He was finally opening the doors of the church. That meant Rachel could get home, or rather to her parents’ house, eat, then crash. Last night’s party had worn her out. She was already going to have to hear it because she missed Jonathan’s solo. She had eased in just as the crowd was applauding, and like always, her father had noticed. Rachel actually tried to make it in time to catch her brother, but as usual, she just couldn’t drag herself out of bed.

  Rachel stood with the rest of the congregation. She tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for people to head to the front. She hated this part of church almost as much as she did the sermon itself. Just when you thought the last person had stepped out, here comes another person. That, in itself, always made her father go on another ten minutes.

  Rachel plopped down in her seat after Simon motioned for everyone to sit back down. The church secretary, Delilah, leaned over and whispered something in Simon’s ear. When that huge smile crossed his face, Rachel knew they weren’t about to be dismissed anytime soon.

  “Brothers and Sisters,” Simon began. “We have five new people who come to join us today by Christian experience. Let the church say Amen!”

  “Amen!” the crowd replied.

  Rachel let out a long, obvious sigh as Simon went down the line, asking each person his name, former church, why he or she wanted to turn his life over to God, their third grade teacher’s name, the works.

  Rachel glanced around the church. Am I the only person who is irritated and ready to go? She was amazed at how all the people were sitting so attentively, but that was the thing about Zion Hill, they had loyal and faithful members. Simon could probably preach right through to six o’clock and they wouldn’t care. Many of them regarded Simon right up there with God himself. She didn’t particularly care for any of the members. They were always throwing nasty looks at her like she was a disgrace to a man so regal as Reverend Simon Jackson. While she was growing up, she couldn’t do anything without someone running back to tell her father. Between those memories and the amount of attention her father bestowed upon the church, she had no love for Zion Hill.