“Okay. Thanks, Kim,” I return.
Stenton is never late with dropping Jordan off to me. I was surprised when he kept him last night after I’d gotten off work, knowing he has to fly out this afternoon for preseason training. He’s even going to be late. I called him as I walked out the door, offering to pick up Jordan on my way to church. Stenton didn’t seem out of sorts then. He said he’d wanted to spend a few more hours with him seeing he would be gone for almost a month, on endorsement business then fulfilling annual NBA obligations. Maybe I should have been more forceful. Jordan is participating in our annual Children’s Day at church this morning. We do it every year during the first week of September. He has a huge role this year.
I glance down to my phone again. Nothing. Crap! Where could they be?
“’Morning, everyone.”
My head pops up to the altar and finds Pastor Whitaker on the pulpit. I check the time again. There’s still fifteen minutes before service is due to start. This is unusual.
“I know we have a long program this morning with Children’s Day and all happening. I see Sister Kim lining them up in the back. If your child isn’t with her, please direct him or her to the rear of the church where she is.”
I chance another glance at my phone and my shoulders sink. Nothing. This is getting embarrassing. My child was requested to MC morning worship, out of the norm for even this occasion because kids don’t understand hosting responsibilities. But Jordan’s keen social skills over the years garnered him the request of doing something so unprecedented and he’s been so excited about the role. But he isn’t here.
Stenton, where are you?
“Before we get started, I want to welcome our brother in Christ this morning and see if he has a few words to share. It’s always a good time in the Lord when he visits. Welcome our brother, Ezra Carmichael,” Pastor Whitaker gushes as he makes his way at the podium.
Ezra steps forward, smiling mildly, the way I’d always remembered him to. Ezra has always been attractive in my eyes, Angela’s and Karen’s, too. We crushed on him hard as kids in high school, but would never make it known to him. He’s a nice build, warm brown skin, average height, clearly physically fit. He’d always been strange to me, in a weird yet intriguing manner. An Ivy League graduate, I’d always admired his educational pursuits, but never shared it with him. Ezra is also extremely intimidating. He speaks several languages, has a vocabulary larger than Merriam, and always sports a penetrating gaze like he can read right through people.
I was completely stunned when I learned he counseled Stenton and was even more baffled by my mother arranging it, according to Stenton. But it works for him. He always speaks good things about Ezra. I can only imagine how Stenton would feel if he knew of my childhood crush on him.
“Good morning, people of God,” Ezra’s voice rumbles over the sound system, his usual self-possessed persona in play. The church applauds eagerly. Out of respect for his connection to Stenton, I make sure to join them. “I don’t have long to be in the tabernacle, but needed to stop by briefly this morning to see about my brother’s business.” Then his nicely aligned teeth come out, expressing rare joy. That’s unusual. “Do you mind if I guide the psyche of your sheep, Pastor?”
Using light humor, Ezra turns back to Pastor Whitaker, who gives him an affirmative nod, bearing a big smile himself. This is weird. I look down at my cell again and see nothing from Stenton.
Ughhhhhh!
Well, Ezra’s bizarre visit has my attention. This should be enlightening.
“Please direct your attention to the nearest screen,” Ezra’s arm stretches to the projection screens we’ve added recently.
I follow the one to my right. Within seconds images appears.
“Hi, Mommy! I’m here!” Jordan boasts cheerfully.