Behind the Altar: Behind the Love Trilogy (10 page)

As promised, Dean
showed up at Susie’s house at precisely eight o’clock. Susie handed him a cup
of coffee when he came into the kitchen. Leah was pulling a large pan out of
the oven.

“Good morning,” he
said as he came over to the stove to sniff the trays of food warm from the
oven. “Are we taking Susie’s car?”

“Since I don’t have
the use of the church van, I guess that’s it,” Leah said. “Tommy’s going to be
here in a couple of hours so if we’re not back, she can ride to church with
him.”

Susie walked into the
kitchen. “I put the box of silverware and plates in the trunk already,” she
said. “Clara donated a bunch of paper products. Those should last for a few
weeks.”

Susie left to take
her shower, and Dean sat at the table with Leah while they drank their coffee.

“How did you sleep
last night?” he asked.

“Very well. I was
exhausted, and after that big meal I fell into bed.” She smiled at him over the
rim of her coffee cup.

“You shouldn’t say
things like that to me,” Dean said as he grinned back at her.

“Why not? You asked
me how I slept.”

“Because when you
mention things like bed, I imagine us together in one.”

They stared at one
another, both grinning broadly. Finally, Leah stood up and went over to the
stove.

“These are probably
cool enough to transport, but still warm enough to taste good,” she said.

Using oven mitts
lying on the counter, they carried the four trays out to Susie’s car and
arranged them on towels on the backseat. Leah got in the driver’s side, and she
carefully drove over the bumpy backyard to the driveway.

“Everything’s fine
back there,” Dean said once they made it to the asphalt road. “I borrowed
Reggie’s truck after I left you last night and set up a table using his
sawhorses and a few boards he had lying around. I knew I wasn’t going to be
able to sleep.”

“You did? That’s very
thoughtful of you,” Leah said as she glanced over at him for a second. She
placed her right hand on the center console, and he reached over and held her
hand in his.

“You have tiny
hands,” he said. “And for a Florida girl, you’re pretty pale.”

“You’ve got gigantic
hands, and I don’t want to get skin cancer,” she said. “You might have noticed
that I don’t have a lot of pigment.”

Dean laughed. “I
guess that’s true.”

“How did you get such
a bronzed skin? No one else in your family looks like you.”

“That’s what I’ve
always heard,” Dean said. “But as I grew older, I wished every night on the
star that I would be told one day that I was adopted. I didn’t want much of
anything to do with anyone in my family.”

“Even Big Jim?”

“For a long time, I
blamed him for everything. But in the end, right before he died, we made peace.
I don’t think he told Geraldine.”

“I’m sure he didn’t,”
Leah said. “I always liked your father, too. In fact, I loved him as if he was
my own father.” Leah was quiet for a minute as she remembered the gruff way Big
Jim took care of his family. “What happened between you and your mother?”

Dean stared straight
ahead and withdrew his hand. “You’d never understand so let’s drop it, all
right?”

She couldn’t imagine
what could have happened that would be so awful, but then she never thought
Geraldine would be as cruel as she’d been in the past few days when she
disobeyed her.

“Whenever you want to
talk about it, just let me know,” Leah said. “I’m a pretty good listener, and
I’ve heard lots of stories over the years. Nothing could shock me.”

“Thanks, but let’s
drop it,” he said as she pulled up to the barn. “What’s the plan?”

“Let’s go down to the
river, and I’ll introduce you to everyone,” Leah said. “Then we’ll set
everything up on that table you brought down. Thank you for doing that.”

“You’re welcome. OK,
let’s go meet the Deer River people and get them some chow.”

When Leah told Joshua
and Carol about the reporter, they said they didn’t mind the idea, but they
cautioned Leah that not everyone would be able to answer the questions.

“Especially Bud,”
Carol said. “He might make things worse.”

“That just shows that
all types are living down here,” Leah said. “You need to stress in your stories
how you came to the river. Also, you both can tell Bud’s story for him, right?”

“That’s right,”
Joshua said. “We can tell all the stories, if it bothers the others to talk.”

As they were
finishing up their meal, an SUV pulled up to the barn, and Susie jumped out with
a tall skinny man following her. Tommy Jackson was about 6’5” with the reddest
hair Leah had ever seen, even redder than Susie’s. His freckles and white skin
were protected with a ball cap with the Miami Dolphins logo.

“Good morning,
folks,” Tommy said as he went around the group shaking hands after Susie
introduced him. “I appreciate you letting me join you like this.”

“Tommy, great to see
you,” Dean said as he came from around the side of Reggie’s truck. “You haven’t
changed a bit.”

“If it isn’t the famous
tatter from South Beach,” Tommy said as he grabbed Dean’s offered hand. “You
still going by Dean or should I call you Harold Grant, the finest tat artist in
the country?”

“Harold Grant?” Leah
asked. “Who’s that?”

“I guess Dean forgot
to tell you that bit of news,” Susie said. “He’s one of the most famous tattoo
artists in the country, except he goes by the name of Harold Grant. I didn’t
know until Reggie told me yesterday.”

“Want some pork
chops?” Joshua asked before Leah could ask any more questions. “We got a few
left.”

“No, thanks,” Tommy
said. “Is there a place where I can sit and talk to you all?”

“We can go back to
our camp,” Carol said. “We’ve got lots of flat rocks down there we use as
chairs and sofas.”

After they’d settled
down on the river in the cool shade of cypress and live oak trees, Tommy asked
a series of questions that led to most of them telling their stories of how
they came to live at the river camp. Most of them were veterans who just
couldn’t fit into society, and didn’t know how to get help in finding a job.
Bud sat away from the group, staring at the river.

“Why is Soup’s On
important to you?” Tommy asked in general. “Can’t you get food stamps and at
least have your own food here at camp?”

“You can’t get food
stamps unless you have a household and an address,” Joshua said. “Leah tried to
use the parsonage and church address, but the church folks balked and wouldn’t
agree to it when the social worker visited. That pretty much sealed our fates a
couple of years back, so Leah started up Soup’s On, and it literally saved our
lives.”

“Do you mind if I
come back with a photographer later today?” Tommy asked.

“Joshua, do you think
that’d be all right?” Leah asked.

“As long as there
aren’t any flashbulbs going off,” Joshua said. “That makes some of us jumpy.”

“No flashes,” Tommy
said. “Leah, are you going to be serving them food again up at that barn?”

“I am, if I can find
someone to donate the food. This came from Reggie’s bar in town, but both
restaurants that give me food are closed on Sundays so there might not be any
leftovers.”

“I think Clara put
some food up last night,” Susie said. “I saw her leaving yesterday, and she
said to call her today, and she’d open up for you.”

“I’d like some photos
of you serving the food,” Tommy said. “And what about the barn? Susie tells me
you might be able to open Soup’s On there sometime soon.”

“It depends on a few
things,” Leah said, “but that’s the plan.”

“What things?” Tommy
asked.

“Geraldine Davis says
she owns the barn and is going to have it torn down, but that may not be the
case. Also, if I’m going to use it for a kitchen and shelter, I’ll need lots of
donations.”

“Who might own it if Geraldine
doesn’t?” Tommy asked.

Leah and Susie turned
their eyes on Dean who stood with his hands in his jeans pockets looking at the
ground. Finally, he looked up at Tommy. “Tommy, we go back a long way, so for
now I’d like to keep this quiet, if you don’t mind. At least until Monday or
Tuesday.”

“Sure, Dean. What’s
up?”

“Geraldine doesn’t
know that Big Jim wrote a new will a month before he died,” he said. “I just
found out a few weeks ago myself when the lawyer he used in Jacksonville
finally filed the will in probate and contacted me.”

“Does Geraldine know?”

“Not yet,” Dean said.
“He’ll be calling her later today.”

“Be sure to let me
know what happens,” Tommy said. “This story probably won’t be published until
next Sunday.”

Tommy and Susie left
for the church, promising to meet up with them later.

“I need to change my
clothes for church,” Leah said when they’d cleaned up the last of the food from
lunch. “I brought them with me.”

She went to the car,
pulled out a small overnight bag, and headed for the barn. Dean followed her.

“I’m just wearing
these jeans and T-shirt,” he said. “That used to be all right. Dad wanted to
encourage everyone to come.”

“You’re fine,” she
said. “I usually wear a sundress instead of shorts and a tank top.”

“You look fine to
me,” he said. “But go ahead and change your clothes. I don’t mind.”

“You want to watch
me?” she said. “I think you’d better wait outside.”

“You’re no fun,” Dean
said. Before he left, he came over and gave her a hug. “You’re beautiful no
matter what you’re wearing.”

She watched him walk
out the door with a slight swagger. He wasn’t showing off; that’s just the way
he walked, and she thought it was the most masculine walk she’d ever seen. It
took her a minute to stop staring at him, but eventually she closed the door,
opened the bag, and pulled out a floral cotton dress with a ruffled round
neckline that covered her completely yet showed off her generous breasts before
cinching at the waist and puffing out around her hips. The skirt just reached
the top of her knees. She pulled out a pair of silver sandals and stepped out
of her flip-flops into the wedged shoes. When she came out of the barn, Dean
was leaning against the car waiting. He whistled when he saw her.

“I know a lot of
women in Miami who walk around showing the majority of their assets, and not
one of them comes close to you in sexiness,” he said. “If only they’d realize
that most of us men like to leave some things to our imagination and the
privacy of our bedrooms.”

“Is that why you like
Sally Jean so much?” Leah asked, and she could have kicked herself for sounding
jealous, but the remark did its trick, and Dean winced.

“Sally Jean is
history. What you saw was nothing. In fact, she wanted to do more, and I walked
away because I couldn’t get a certain someone off my mind.”

“Who would that be?”

“Some chick who
attacked me behind the church.”

Leah smiled and
walked toward him.

“We’d better get
going, or we’ll be late,” Leah said as she tossed her bag in the backseat.
“It’s going to be a long day.”

“I’ll say. Tomorrow
could be even longer.”

Dean and Leah walked
into the Sunshine Church right before the doors shut. They slid into a pew near
the back, next to Susie and Tommy. Leah noticed Geraldine sitting up in the
front pew as always wearing the charcoal gray suit she’d seen in the living
room the day before.

Jacob walked in from
the side door near the pulpit, resplendent in his white robe with gold trim.
His hair was combed neatly into place, and he wore a welcoming smile as he
looked out over the congregation.

“I’d like to begin
today with a verse from Proverbs 14:31: ‘He who oppresses the poor shows
contempt for their Maker, but whoever is kind to the needy honors God,’” Jacob
said as he looked out over the congregation, finally resting his eyes on
Geraldine who stared at him.

“We have been kind to
the needy at the Sunshine Church by operating Soup’s On out of the recreational
hall,” Jacob said. “Our very own Leah Bryant has overseen this project for two
years, and it’s been a blessing to those who live in the Deer River camp.

“Today, I regret to
inform you that the Board voted this past week to close the kitchen so the
Women’s Circle can hold their weekly socials in the hall.”

The congregation began
buzzing, and Leah noticed Tommy’s pen flying over the pages of his slender
notebook. Leah locked eyes with Jacob and nodded her encouragement for him to
continue.

“I haven’t spoken up
in defense of Soup’s On until today. I sat silent while the Board held its
discussions and made its decision. Yesterday, as I began to plan today’s
sermon, I came upon the verse from Proverbs, ‘who oppresses the poor shows
contempt for the Creator,’ and knew in my heart I did not feel contempt in any
way for our Lord. I honor him and all the things he has created. Therefore, I
am now giving a voice to the disruption I felt in my soul when it was decided
this church—our church—would no longer serve those less fortunate than us.

“As a result, I’ve
called an emergency Board meeting for right after the service today, and I will
ask the Board to reconsider its decision.

“Now I’d like to talk
about contempt and compassion and how the two cannot exist together in a world
where we honor the Lord.”

Susie patted Leah’s
knee on one side, and Dean put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a
quick squeeze.

“He did a good thing
today,” Dean whispered into her hair, and Leah nodded in return as tears
threatened to overflow.

“He’s very brave,”
she whispered so softly no one heard.

Leah watched
Geraldine bow her head as if in prayer, but Leah imagined prayers were far from
her mind. Her face was flushed and her shoulders were tensed forward. What might
happen next was hard to imagine, Leah thought, as she reached for the hymnal to
find the next song.

When the service
ended, Geraldine stood and walked behind the pulpit and went through the door
to the offices, as Jacob walked down the aisle to greet folks as they exited
the church. Usually, Geraldine and Leah joined him on the front steps as the
first family of Sunshine Church, giving their blessings to all who attended the
service. Jacob did the honors alone on this day when he finally stood up to his
mother. Leah stayed inside with Dean and Tommy, who had plenty of questions to
ask.

“Do you think I can
attend the Board meeting?” he asked.

“I’m not sure what
the bylaws say about that,” Leah said. “You can ask Jacob; he’d probably
welcome you, but there are the others to consider.”

As they stood in the
church, a man with a camera around his neck walked past the folks exiting and
joined them.

“Simon, you made it,”
Tommy said. “Meet Leah, Dean, and Susie.”

Simon shook hands all
around. “This place is in the middle of nowhere. Where do all these people come
from?”

“The church pulls its
members from a pretty wide area,” Leah said. “Some drive an hour to get here.
We’re one of the few non-denominational churches around here, unless you want
to drive to Tampa or Orlando.”

“What’s the
assignment?” Simon asked.

“We need to go down
to a river camp on the back side of this property,” Tommy said. “We can drive
part of the way, but we’ll need to hoof it down the banks. An old pro like you
can handle it, can’t you?”

“You bet. What’s the
subject matter?”

“A group of some
special folks who make the Deer River their home,” Tommy said. “But first I
need to see if they’re going to let me attend a Board meeting. You could take
some exterior shots of this building because the story will mention the
Sunshine Church.”

“Are you attending
the meeting, Leah?” Dean asked.

“I’m not on the
Board,” she said.

“But they’re
discussing Soup’s On, which has been your program,” Dean said. “By all rights,
I think they have to allow you to attend at least the discussion part so you
can present your case.”

“I think he’s right,”
Susie said. “You need to insist on attending. Maybe if you’d done that in the
first place this wouldn’t have happened.”

“I had no idea they
were going to vote to shut it down last week,” Leah said.

When Jacob finished
greeting the congregation, he came back in. Sweat rolled down his face and onto
the collar of his robe. “I really need to think about not wearing this during
the summer months,” he said as he ran a finger around the collar pulling it
away from his skin.

“Dean, thank you for
coming to the service,” Jacob said as he began unzipping the robe. “It’s been a
long time.”

“I enjoyed the sermon,
Jacob,” Dean said. “That took a lot of courage.”

“Jacob, I want to
attend the meeting today, and so does Tommy,” Leah said.

“It’s not customary,
but there’s nothing to say you can’t, although when we take a vote, I think you
have to leave. The by-laws state that the votes are private.”

“That’s fine, but I’d
like a chance to plead my case for Soup’s On,” Leah said. “What about Tommy?”

“They might have a
problem with that,” Jacob said.

“I might have a
problem if they refuse,” Tommy said. “Does the whole congregation elect the
Board?”

“Yes, they do,” Jacob
said.

“Then I think the
meetings have to be open,” Tommy said. “But it’s a slippery slope, as my
paper’s attorney might say. The state isn’t going to get involved in telling
the church how to run their business. Separation of church and state and all
that.”

“I’m not going to be
the one to say no,” Jacob said. “I’ll let one of them do that, and we go from
there. I need to get out of this robe and get prepared. See you in there,
Leah.”

Leah and Tommy walked
into the conference room across the hall from Geraldine’s office. The five
board members and Jacob sat at the long table. Donald Cameron, the chair, sat
at one end. Geraldine, who was the treasurer, sat at the other end. Brian Long
sat next to Jacob and across from them sat Martha Rollings and Arnold Simmons.

“Hello, Leah,” Donald
said as they walked toward the table. “Are you here for the meeting?”

“Yes. I’d like to be
here for the discussion about Soup’s On,” she said. “And this is Tommy Jackson,
a reporter from the
Tampa Tribune
. He’s doing a piece on the Deer River
people who are most affected by the closing of the kitchen.”

“I protest,”
Geraldine said. “Leah is not a member of the board, and we certainly don’t need
a reporter here while we discuss the private matters of the board.”

“Geraldine, we are a
board elected by the congregation so in effect, Leah is our boss, and she may
attend this meeting,” Arnold said. “However, since Tommy is not a member of our
church, we can refuse him entry. It’s our decision on whether he stays or not,
and I for one see no reason to refuse his request.”

“I agree,” Martha
said. “We’re very open here, Tommy. It’s good to see you. It’s been a long time.”

“Let’s take a vote
then,” Donald said. “Who’s in favor of allowing Mr. Jackson to stay for the meeting?”

Four hands went up,
but Geraldine sat with her hands in front of her on the table.

“Tommy, you’re welcome
to stay until we take a vote,” Donald said. “But our by-laws allow the votes to
be private to protect the anonymity of the board members so they’ll feel free
to vote.”

“Thank you,” Tommy
said. “I’ll just sit over here in the corner, and let you all conduct your
business.”

Leah sat down on a
chair near the wall behind Jacob. She had a clear shot of Geraldine who was
glaring in her direction. Leah forced her attention on Donald and what he was
saying.

“I’ve been getting
some calls from members of the congregation,” Donald said. “Many of them have
heard that we’ve shut down Soup’s On, and they’re not pleased.”

“I’ve been getting
calls, too,” Geraldine said. “And they’re all congratulating us on making the
right decision for the church. In fact, many of them are encouraging us to run
those folks off the property down at the river.”

“Does the church own
that property?” Martha asked.

“I don’t think we
do,” Brian said. “We only own the property here where the church and parsonage
stand. Geraldine owns the rest of it.”

“I’d like your
blessing to get the authorities involved in getting them out of our town and
away from our church,” Geraldine said. “It gives us a bad image.”

“A bad image?” Arnold
asked. “It gives the church a bad image if we give assistance to the homeless
and allow them to make a camp on land we don’t even own?”

“Yes, it does. We
have a standard to uphold,” Geraldine said. “We have to think about all those
grants we apply for and how we’re portrayed. How will we help those orphans in
Haiti or the poor in Uganda or the village in Nicaragua if we can’t get the
funds?”

“We look like the
good Christians we are,” Martha said. “You heard Jacob’s sermon this morning,
didn’t you? We can help the rest of the world, but it doesn’t mean very much if
we turn our back to those right here under our nose.”

“Why did you vote to
close down Soup’s On last week?” Geraldine asked. “Where was your compassion
for all those folks down at the river who refuse to go out and work for a
living?”

“You brought us false
information,” Brian said. “I’ve done some checking since then, and your claim
that the kitchen is underfunded is false. Leah’s done a wonderful job with that
kitchen, and I’d like us to reconsider our vote from last week. I want to open
the floor back up for discussion.”

Leah raised her hand
to speak, and Donald recognized her.

“I’d like you to
consider letting me use the hall temporarily,” she said. “I’ve found a place to
fix up and two places in town are helping me with food so the church budget
won’t be so taxed. I find it hard to believe that the kitchen has been a drain
on the budget because we held that big garage sale in April and then the
Christmas craft bazaar. Both of those events brought in thousands of dollars.”

“I’ve been thinking the
same thing,” Arnold said. “I’d like to see the paperwork on that, Geraldine.”

“Are you saying you
don’t trust me to run the books?” Geraldine asked as she looked around the
table. “Besides, Leah’s basing her comments on something that’s absolutely
false. She wants to fix up that old barn down by the river and turn it into a shelter.
I own that barn, and it’s going to be demolished next month.”

“I’m only asking the
board to reconsider allowing me to run the kitchen out of the hall for the next
several months,” Leah said, ignoring Geraldine’s threat. “I don’t have to serve
lunch on the days the Women’s Circle is held.”

“That sounds
reasonable,” Donald said. “I think I’m in favor of taking another vote.”

“What about the
funds?” Geraldine asked. “Where do you want me to get those?”

“I’ll hold a bake
sale or go door to door,” Leah said. “I bet some of those members who called
Donald would be willing to give a little money.”

“You can’t go
begging,” Geraldine said. “I know you used to do that before I saved you from
the streets, and I don’t appreciate you turning on me now just because of some
misguided notion you have about saving those people.”

“Maybe you could
return that suit you bought yesterday and give that money to Soup’s On,” Leah
said. “Maybe it would pay for the next month of lunches for twenty people.”

Geraldine stood up
from the table. “I will not stand here and be insulted by the likes of you.
You’re nothing but the daughter of a drug addict who couldn’t even take care of
her own daughter. I own that dress on your back, and I paid for that diamond
ring on your finger.”

Leah stood, too, and
pulled the ring from her finger. She walked over to Geraldine and held out her
hand to give her the ring.

“I didn’t mean you
have to return the ring,” Geraldine said. “I think you need to be more grateful
is all.”

“I don’t want this
ring if it came from you,” Leah said. “If you don’t want it, I’m going to pawn
it and give the money to the Soup’s On fund.”

“Jacob, you’re going
to sit there and let her talk like that?” Geraldine asked.

“I’m fine with that,
Mother. I think it’s a good idea. I never liked the idea of buying her such an
expensive ring in the first place. It’s not Leah’s style. She’s not you.”

“Now folks, let’s get
back to the business at hand,” Donald said. “Leah, I’m sure with the donated food,
we can manage. I hope after you have your new place, you’ll let us continue to
be a major contributor.

“Thank you,” Leah
said. “That would be wonderful, as long as I can run it the way I see fit.”

“I don’t want to be a
part of this,” Geraldine said as she turned and walked out the door slamming it
behind her.