The Pastor's Woman. Jacquelin Thomas
in the mood for pasta. He recalled one of the deacons telling him about a pretty good Italian restaurant in the area.
What was it called? Wade searched his memory.
Milton’s, that was it.
He strolled into his office and looked it up on the Internet, searching for details and reviews on the restaurant.
Satisfied with what he’d read, he grabbed his coat, wallet and keys and headed to the door.
Inside his black Chrysler 300, Wade keyed the address into his GPS navigational system. He steered the car out of the driveway and onto the street. He was looking forward to enjoying a meal that hadn’t been prepared by his hands or come with somebody’s daughter as the dessert.
Fifteen minutes later, Wade arrived at the restaurant. The smell of freshly sautéed garlic and herbs tantalized his senses. A smiling hostess greeted him warmly and escorted him to a small table in the main dining room. The mustard-gold walls and deep burgundy drapes provided a richly colored backdrop while soft music floated throughout the restaurant.
Wade perused the menu while he waited for a member of the waitstaff to arrive. Everything he read on the list sounded delicious.
His eyes traveled around the room, taking in the dining guests and enjoying the ambiance. Wade was more of a homebody unless he was attending a dinner meeting or on a date, but he vowed to change that starting tonight. He’d been in Detroit for a few months. It was time to start enjoying the city.
Humming softly to the music, Pearl carried out a tray of drinks for a party of six. Since coming to work, she’d had a steady stream of customers, but she wasn’t complaining. She preferred staying busy. It helped to pass the time.
Pearl was on the schedule to work every day this week except Wednesday, and she’d picked up a singing gig for Saturday.
If things continued the way they were, she’d earn close to fifteen hundred dollars this week—money that would go back into her savings.
Last month she’d sang at three weddings, a function for the mayor of Detroit and a couple of private parties. The gigs had paid well enough to cover her bills for November and December.
Out the corner of her eye, Pearl noted the lone newcomer who had just been seated in her station.
She made her way over to his table.
“Good evening,” Pearl greeted. Her voice died when she recognized Wade. “Pastor…hello.”
“Sister Pearl,” he responded. “I didn’t know you worked here.”
She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze straight on. “What you mean is that you didn’t know I was a waitress.”
Wade didn’t respond.
Pearl thought she detected a flicker in his intense eyes. “It’s okay,” she plunged on carelessly. “I’m not ashamed of it. It’s a job. I make an honest living. But anyway, welcome to Milton’s Ristorante. Have you ever eaten here before?”
“No, this is my first time.” Leaning back in his seat, Wade said, “I have a taste for seafood so what would you recommend I try?”
“Everything on the menu is delicious, though I have some personal favorites.” She described them in detail, and the pastor made a choice.
“I’ll go put your order in and I’ll be right back with your water.”
Wade nodded in response.
Pearl couldn’t believe her luck. Why did Wade Kendrick of all people have to come to Milton’s today and end up in her station?
He’d better leave me a nice big tip, she thought to herself.
She returned to Wade’s table a few minutes later with his water. Pearl sat it down in front of him, saying, “Your food should be up shortly.”
Their gazes met and held, making her uneasy.
“Thank you,” he murmured after a moment.
Pearl moved without haste but with hurried purpose. She had no idea why Wade affected her the way he did, but instead of dwelling on the thought, she pushed it to the back of her mind as she wrote down more dinner orders.
She smiled at the two men entering her station, acknowledging them. As soon as they took their seats, Pearl went over to introduce herself.
She stole a peek over her shoulder at the table where Wade was sitting.
He was watching her. Pearl thought she detected a flicker in his intense eyes, causing her pulse to skitter alarmingly.
She drew her attention back to her customers and managed to get through the specials and take their drink order without fumbling. Having Wade seated in her station made her nervous.
But why? she wondered.
Pearl had been completely caught unawares seeing him. Wade was just as surprised to see her standing at his table. She looked as stunning in her uniform as she did any other time. All of the Lockhart siblings were beautiful, but Wade thought Pearl the prettiest.
She was also the most outgoing, it seemed. And the most opinionated, for sure.
His eyes traveled to the two men sitting at the table across from his. They shared similar features, so much that they had to be related to each other. Probably brothers, Wade decided.
Pearl paused at his table to refresh his glass of water, her appearance distracting him briefly from his thoughts.
He cast another smile her way. “Thank you.”
“Would you like something else to drink with your dinner besides water?” she inquired.
Wade shook his head. “This is fine.”
“Your food should be ready.”
While Wade waited for Pearl to come back with his meal, he reflected back over his life. His journey to the pulpit had not been one without heartache. His gaze landed on the two men laughing and talking nearby, his heart breaking all over again.
I miss you so much, Jeff.
Memories of his dead brother rushed to the forefront, bringing tears to Wade’s eyes. Ten years had passed since Jeff’s death, but to him, it still felt like it had happened yesterday. Wade didn’t know if he would ever be able to escape that particular heartache or be free of the guilt.
It’s my fault that Jeff is dead.
Wade had joined the Chicago Kings, one of the city’s largest and most violent street gangs, when he was fifteen. Two years later, when his younger brother, Jeff, wanted to join, Wade didn’t do anything to dissuade him, despite the constant pleas of their mother.
He knew the dangers, but back then, it was nothing more than a way of life to Wade. It took Jeff being killed in a drive-by shooting a year later to change Wade’s way of thinking and to change his life.
Wade went through the motions of eating but not really tasting his food. Seeing families together, enjoying each other, was a constant reminder of everything that he’d lost.
Suddenly needing to get out of there, he dropped two twenty-dollar bills on the table and rose to his feet. He spotted Pearl coming his way and met her.
“I’m sorry but I need to leave,” he blurted. “I left money on the table. Keep the change.” Wade didn’t give her a chance to respond. He walked briskly to the door.
Outside, he took a deep breath and climbed into his car.
Wade pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind as he drove down I-75, en route to his house in Auburn Hills.
At home, Wade went straight to the dresser in his bedroom. From the top drawer he pulled a yellow bandana and a necklace made of gold and black beads—the items Jeff was wearing when he was killed. The faded brownish stains on it were his brother’s blood. Wade kept the