Latter Rain Page 3

  “Hey, yourself. I know that look on your face.” Bishop’s eyebrow arched as he asked, “What’s wrong, Isaac?”

  Isaac handed over the bill. Bishop Sumler reviewed it and frowned. “I thought we already paid for the lumber.”

  “Exactly,” Keith responded.

  “And what’s this overtime charge? Every time I drive by the site, MacMillan’s workers are on break.” Bishop shook his head. “I need to call our lawyers so they can look into this.”

  Isaac clenched his fists. “Where I come from, a two-by-four up side MacMillan’s fat head would have ‘paid-in-fullstamped on this bill before we wasted a dime on a lawyer.”

  Bishop laughed. “That would certainly get results. But I don’t think we want to be the feature story on the evening news, now do we?”

  Actually, it had been a while since Isaac had been on the news. He wouldn’t mind a little drama about now. Something to spice things up a bit.

  Keith shrugged and folded his hands in his lap. “What do you want to do about this, Bishop?”

  Sometimes Keith’s mouth fixed on the stupidest questions. “What do you think?” Isaac boomed. “We need to go down there and take care of this.”

  “Good.” Bishop patted Isaac on the back. “You boys go handle this. But just talk to the man. Try not to let your temper flare, Isaac.”

  Easier said than done, especially when Isaac was already hot.

  Bishop began to walk out, then snapped his fingers as he turned back to Isaac. “Almost forgot what I came to see you about. Can you deliver the sermon on Sunday?”

  Isaac was going to have Donavan this weekend. Would he have time to prepare a sermon? He looked at his watch. Already an hour late picking up his son and he still had MacMillan and five hours of road time in his way. “This is probably not the best weekend for me, sir.”

  “I know this is short notice, Isaac, but I’m going to be out of town. I really need your help.”

  Since he’d been an armor bearer for Bishop, he’d only preached about three times. Bishop didn’t like to share his pulpit. Naturally, Isaac was honored that Bishop would share it with him. “I’ll make it work. It’s not a problem.”

  Bishop smiled. “That’s good. That’s good. Oh, and Cassandra Davis will be visiting our church this Sunday. She’s trying to decide whether to join our church or Bishop Marks’s.”

  Isaac was silent.

  A devilish grin eked out before Bishop could control himself. “I told her you would take her out to dinner after church.”

  The phone rang. Keith picked it up.

  All the mess Isaac had gone through with Denise Wilkerson was because of Bishop Sumler’s match making. After Denise, there was Stacey, the tongue talking, Holy Ghost filled stripper. Then Therese, the fire baptized got-a-mind-torun-on-and-sleep-with-all-the-preachers woman. Isaac was beginning to wonder if Bishop could even recognize a saved woman from all the imitation saints he kept trying to hook him up with.

  Keith held the phone out to Isaac. “It’s Nina.”

  Isaac grabbed the phone, but before putting the receiver to his ear, he told Bishop, “I don’t know about dinner on Sunday.”

  “Well, at least meet with her after church. She would make an excellent praise leader, and you know we’ve been needing a praise leader since Stacey left.”

  Oh, so now it was his fault that Stacey the stripper kept trying to get with him. The moment he told her he didn’t want her free-will offering, she changed membership. Good riddance, and God help her new pastor. “I’ll think about it, he told Bishop as he put the receiver to his ear. “Hey you.”

  No hello, or how you doing. Nothing. She just got straight to the point. “Why aren’t you here?”

  Bishop Sumler put the bill back on his desk and walked out.

  Isaac hesitated, then sat down. “Um, I got caught up.”

  Smirking, she said, “Mmph, I know what that means.”

  “Why are you always judging me? You don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “I know that you’re still in Chicago. And I know that your son will be walking in this house within five minutes wondering why he wasn’t important enough for his father to spend some time with him.”

  Isaac looked at the papers on his desk. The MacMillan Construction bill glared at him, daring him to leave town without handling his business. “Look, Nina, I’m on my way. I just need to take care of something first. Can you tell Donavan to wait for me?”

  “Like last time?”

  Isaac closed his eyes and ran his hand through his wavy hair. This woman could use a refresher course on forgiving and forgetting. “I’m coming, Nina. Trust me on that.”

  Isaac felt the heat of the silence that spoke volumes from Nina’s end.

  “I’ll be there around eight-thirty, nine o’clock. Okay, Nina?”

  “Don’t worry about it, Isaac. I think I know how to solve this problem.” She hung up.

  Isaac slammed the phone down. “She’s always on me about something. You’d think I was a dead-beat looking for a way out of child support.”

  “Let it go. Nina is probably just frustrated right now,” Keith told him.

  “She’s trippin’on something.” He picked up his keys. “Look, let’s just go take care of our issue with MacMillan so I can get on the road.”

  As they drove down the street, headed toward the construction site, Keith laughed. “Man, Bishop is gon make sure you jump the broom.”

  Isaac shook his head. “Sometimes I wonder.”

  Keith stopped laughing and looked at his friend. “What’s wrong?”

  Isaac scratched the itch at the top of his head. “Well, if he wants me married so bad, why does he keep hooking me up with these free-will-love-offering sisters?”

  “I’ve wondered that myself. I don’t think Bishop would know a good woman if she fell on him.”

  Isaac pulled the car up to the construction site. “I wish he would introduce me to someone like Nina.” He turned off the car. “Man, who am I kidding? I wish I had Nina.”

  “I know how you feel,” Keith said as his eyes saddened and he turned away from his friend. If the truth was told, Keith wished that he had met Nina first.

  “That’s my family.” Isaac pounded the steering wheel with his fist. “If only Nina would just let go of the past and see the truth.”

  Keith was silent. Then, after mulling it over, he turned to Isaac. “You’re right, man. Nina and Donavan are your family. So, be there for them.”

  Isaac turned his gaze toward the construction site and sneered, “Look at him. Charging us for overtime while his crew sits on their butts.” They got out of the car and walked past the workers as they sat around waiting for day to break so they could start collecting overtime. One of the workers stood and stretched. He’d obviously had more than his share of stuffed pizza and Italian sausages.

  Isaac stopped and did a double take. Besides, there was something hauntingly familiar about this man. One piercing glance later and Isaac knew. Their eyes locked. A rage boiled in Isaac. He reached toward his back for his Glock. Then he remembered that saying yes to Jesus meant giving up his weapons of mass destruction. Ah, salvation did have its limitations.

  He wasn’t beaten yet, though. He stalked over to MacMillan and demanded. “What’s he doing here?”

  MacMillan glanced in the direction of Isaac’s pointer finger. “Who, Marvin? He works for me.”

  “Not on this site, he doesn’t. I want him gone today!”

  “Come on, man. He’s one of my best workers.” MacMillan saw the unyielding look in Isaac’s eyes and quietly added, “He’s got a family.”

  Isaac sucked his teeth and stared him down.

  Keith turned toward Marvin. All the workers could hear what Isaac was saying. Marvin’s eyes were downcast. He bent down to pick up his lunch box and grabbed his jacket. There was something familiar about the man that Keith couldn’t put his finger on.

  Marvin shook a couple of his team members hands and tur
ned to walk off the site. MacMillan hollered after him. “Marvin, don’t go. You don’t have to leave.”

  Marvin held up a hand, but kept walking.

  “Let him go,” Isaac told MacMillan.

  Keith continued to watch Marvin. Even while being thrown off a job site, his walk was full of confidence and brass. A man with a walk like that was too stubborn to back down, even if the world was against him. But he had backed down, hadn’t he?

  MacMillan’s hands flayed in the air. “Well, this is outrageous! Just outrageous.”

  “No. This is outrageous.” Isaac took the paper out of his pocket and handed it to MacMillan.

  “It’ s your bill. He shrugged. “What s wrong with it?

  Isaac pointed at a section of the bill. “Now, I’m not as educated as you are, so I’m going to need you to explain why we need to pay for lumber twice?

  MacMillan stammered, “Y—you’re not paying twice. We had to order more lumber. This job is going to be bigger than we estimated.”

  Isaac’s lip curled. “Mmph.” He pointed at another section of the bill. “How you gon’ charge us overtime, when your men sit out here on break half the day?

  “Come on, man. I’m doing this job for half the cost. How could you not trust me?

  Isaac smirked as he told MacMillan, “I don’t trust nobody but Jesus.”

  MacMillan rubbed his temples. His eyes rolled upward. “Look, Isaac. The bill is legit. Now you guys can either pay it, or I’ll stop construction on this church right now.”

  “What did you just say to me?”

  MacMillan puffed out his chest. “I said that I’ll stop construction if you don’t pay your bill.”

  The eyes of a predator blazed fury as Isaac grabbed a fist full of MacMillan’s collar. “I’m going to do you a favor and give you a second chance.” He smashed the bill in MacMillan’s face. “Fleecing me is not good for your health. You sure you want to do that?”

  Keith’s hands went up to slow Isaac’s madness. “Man, what are you doing?”

  “I’m gon’ knock some sense into his thieving head.”

  Keith stuttered “C-come on, I-Isaac. This ain’t w—what we came down here to do.”

  Isaac tightened his grip. “We didn’t come down here to get robbed either. I’m gon’ bust his head open, then we’ll see if he still thinks this bill is legit.”

  MacMillan caught Keith’s stuttering disease. “N—now, I—if you hit me. I—I’m going to call the p—p—police.”

  Isaac smirked again. “You’ll have to get to the phone to do that.”

  “Come on, man. There’s a better way,” Keith said.

  “Shut up, Keith. The non-violence movement died when they shot Martin Luther King, Jr. Isaac glared at MacMillan. “When I get through beating you down, you won’t have the strength to cheat another custom—”

  “Help! Help me,” MacMillan screamed.

  A couple of MacMillan’s men stood up and weighed their options.

  Isaac told MacMillan, “You’ll be in a coma before they get me off you.”

  MacMillan struggled to free himself from Isaac’s death grip. “Okay, okay. Let me look at the bill again.

  Isaac loosed him, picked the bill off the ground and handed it to MacMillan.

  A nervous laugh escaped MacMillan’s thin lips as he studied the bill. “Hey, you gentlemen might be right.” He snapped his finger. “Now that I think about it, you guys paid for your lumber about three months ago. I’m going to have the accounting department go over this bill one more time.”

  Neither Keith nor Isaac responded. Just stared him down.

  “Come on, fellows. I’m human, I make mistakes. Aren’t you people supposed to forgive and forget?

  “Yeah, I’ll forgive you when you stop cheating us. But, I haven’t forgotten nothing since I was three years old, and you better believe I’ll remember this mess.” Isaac turned and walked toward the car. His shoulders slumped with the weight of memories.

  Keith stood back and watched him. Then he saw it. Isaac walked with confidence and brass.

  4

  Nina and Charles held a unified front as Donavan glared at them. The afternoon sun shone through her picture window and danced on the engagement ring on her finger. It shimmered. She smiled. Was it so wrong that she should be happy? Nina had finally put the ring on after Donavan walked in the house and demanded that Charles leave her alone. She told Donavan that she was engaged and showed him the proof of her engagement.

  “I don’t believe you! Donavan roared. “How can you do this to our family?

  “I’m not doing anything to our family. I’m doing this for our family, Donavan.”

  All her life, Nina wanted to have a family; a unit that would be there, no matter what. Couldn’t Donavan understand that? She was just trying to give him something she didn’t have growing up. Nina’s birth mother gave her up for adoption when she was four years old. The only thing she remembered about the woman was their good-bye.

  Standing in front of an orphanage her mother told her, “I love you, Nina. That’s why I’m doing this.”

  To this day, Nina still wondered how someone could love her and give her away at the same time. Her adoptive parents were good to her, but they died in a car wreck when she was in high school.

  Donavan laughed and turned to Charles. “I suppose you think my dad is going to fall all over himself thanking you for what you’re doing to his family?”

  “Donavan!” Nina wondered why Isaac had to fill his head with impossible dreams; things that would never come to pass. “You and I are a family; that’s it. And Charles wants to be a part of our family. You’re going to have to face the fact that I’m not going to marry your dad.”

  Donavan’s throat constricted as his eyes narrowed. He had his father’s eyes. Dark and dangerous. “Why do you have to ruin everything?”

  Charles stood and put his hand on Donavan’s shoulder. “We’re not trying to ruin anything for you, son.”

  “I’m not your son. I’ve got a daddy,” Donavan told him while rolling his eyes.

  Charles lifted his hands in surrender. “You’re right, Donavan. You already have a father. But I love your mom and she has agreed to marry me—we want to be a family.”

  Nina noticed that Charles did not tell Donavan that she loved him. Did he have doubts about her love? She smiled at her future husband, trying to portray the love her lips hadn’t been able to say.

  “Where’s my dad? He should have been here by now.”

  Your no-good daddy is too busy to leave Chicago for someone as unimportant as his son. That’s what she wanted to say. Putting her thoughts in check, she told him, “I’m not sure if your dad will be able to make it.”

  Donavan fought a good fight, but his eyes misted anyway. “Oh, so I guess this is the,” he mimicked Nina’s soft, patient voice, “Cheer up, Donavan. Your dad is a loser, but I’ve got a new daddy for you, talk. Is that it?”

  Charles was in his “I object” courtroom stance. His hands gripped the sofa. “We are not going to tolerate your disrespect, young man.”

  “You don’t have to tolerate nothing from me. I don’t need you. I didn’t ask to be born,” Donavan said as he stormed out of the house.

  Isaac always left her to deal with his mess. Oooh, he infuriated her. Made her want to bring her lunch back up. Nina got up and followed her son. “You get back here right now.”

  Donavan pushed his bike off the porch and sped off.

  “Donavan! Donavan, get back here,” Nina hollered as she watched her son continue riding his bike down the street.

  Charles walked onto the porch. Nina kept screaming for her son.

  “Come on back inside, baby,” Charles told her while shaking his head in frustration.

  “No!” She rushed down the stairs. “Donavan, don’t do this! Turn that bike around this minute.” Donavan kept going. She stood there until he was out of sight, wondering when she had lost control of her precious son.

 
; Life had not been easy for her and Donavan. After Isaac went to jail, she worked two and three jobs just to make ends meet. And then there was college. She thought the time she spent away from Donavan would be worth it once she graduated from college and was able to provide for him. But here she was, making a decent enough living as a writer with time to spend with her son, and he was moving farther and farther away from her.

  “Come on, baby.” Charles pulled at her. “Let’s go back inside.”

  Nina turned toward Charles.

  Seeing the desperate look in her eyes, he grabbed her and hugged her close. “He’ll be back—just needs to cool down some, that’s all.

  Across the street, Mickey Jones sat in a black Maxima with tinted windows. He smiled as he watched Charles cling to his lady. “Lookie here, lookie here. The DA is in love.”

  This was going to be more interesting than Mickey imagined. His first thought was to kill the assistant district attorney. Charles had been on his back for years. Always hassling him, trying to get him locked down. He was worse than a gold digging stalker, blowing up his pager and cell phone. His nemesis was riding high now, thinking he had won. But Mickey hadn’t begun to show him the meaning of loss. Oh, but Mr. Charles Douglas III would soon feel the wrath of the underworld. He would live to regret the day he decided to tangle with Mickey Jones.

  The voices inside his head were screaming at him. They weren’t very nice. “Loser—fake—you’re a nothing—zero.”

  He shoved his hands against his ears. He wasn’t a loser. He was top dog. Even Isaac had said so. What was it he had said? He moved his hand in the air as his fingers danced over the words, “Looks like you already own Dayton.” Yes, Isaac had been impressed with the way he had come up in the world. He hadn’t accepted the car or the house Mickey had bought for him; a kind of get-out-of-jail present. But Mickey understood. Isaac was a preacher man now. But, oh, how he had dreamed of sharing his kingdom with Isaac. He was the only one he would share anything with. Not these other thugs in the street. He had a bullet waiting for each one of them. And he certainly wasn’t sharing anything with these rotten voices he couldn’t get rid of. Disrespecting him.