CHAPTER 25

WILLA

Willie and I settled quite nicely into domestic life. Zella bought my half of our place from me, and I moved in with Willie. For most of my life, I never thought that I would be cut out for a relationship. But living and being with Willie brought me the most happiness that I had ever experienced in my life. I didn’t think it was possible to have more joy.

Then Kirk William Booker joined us on April 1, 2018, and pleasantly proved me wrong. Babies are miraculous beings. Willie couldn’t stop looking at him. I felt so much love for my son and husband. Part of the miracle was simply that this little person was half me and half Willie. It made me feel so incredibly close to Willie.

On a beautiful day two years after our first child was born, I was swinging little Kirk who was safely ensconced in a toddler swing at a favorite playground. Willie had gone to the restroom. When I noticed he had returned, there was a familiar woman sitting next to him on a bench. It was Carly Brooks, his ex!

Her daughter ambled over to little Kirk and me. I assisted the tiny people in play, and Willie looked as though he had bitten into a lemon. There was no temptation for jealousy. I even had to turn my face away so he couldn’t see me giggling. I rubbed a hand over my abdomen, caressing the space where our second child was growing. I couldn’t help being thankful that the woman had betrayed my Willie Wonka and paved the way for him to be mine. Being in a loving and committed relationship is beyond satisfying and completely fulfilling.

I’ll leave it at that, and let Willie conclude our little love story.

WILLIE (AKA BILLIE BOB BOOKER)

Carly and I sat in silence for a minute as we watched Willa play with our children. Willa’s back was to us, and I thought I could see her shoulders quivering. Then she flashed a quick peek at Carly and me, and I could tell she was laughing at my discomfort. I would have to call her on it when we were alone and then visit her ticklish spot. I felt my lips twitch with a grin, despite my situation.

“I heard your good buddy Lyle is in an interesting relationship,” Carly said shaking her head. “I always suspected that squirrely guy was queer.”

This comment snuffed out my grin and I tensed with irritation.

“Lyle’s a good guy,” I defended. “I don’t appreciate you calling him a derogatory name.”

“Well, excuse me,” she replied testily.

She opened her mouth to say more, but I didn’t want to argue so I changed the subject. That is if I couldn’t be rid of her. “How are things between you and Niles?”

“Well, we get along well enough, but we gave up on trying to be a couple,” she replied with a sigh. “It’s funny. He and I get along just fine as friends. But when we try romance, we seem to clash. He is truly a dear friend, and I don’t know what I would have done without him a couple weeks ago.”

“What happened a couple weeks ago?” I reluctantly asked.

“I had a pregnancy scare,” she whispered.

“By Niles?” I whispered back.

“No, like I was saying, he and I gave up on romance months ago.”

“Who then?”

She eyed me coyly, and then she smiled mischievously. “I wasn’t sure who the father was to be honest,” she whispered.

“What?” I exclaimed.

“Shh,” she frowned, looking around with paranoia. “I ended up in a situation where I was briefly seeing two guys at the same time.”

“Really?” I replied, astounded.

She pursed her lips and nodded. “I’m still seeing Kevin, but Victor was, well, a fling. I knew Kevin at least a month, more like two, before we were intimate for the first time. Also, Victor and I have been friends for a couple of years. He and I just sort of hooked up a few times after work. Victor is an X-ray technician where I work, and Kevin and I met through online dating.”

“I see.”

“Victor’s black,” Carly whispered again. “Can you imagine what my dad would have said if I would have had his baby? I’m not gonna lie, I considered abortion. Thankfully, I got my period.”

“I didn’t know Warren is racist,” I said, referring to her dad.

“Well he’s not, per se,” Carly said. “Daddy would have been more disappointed over him being married.”

“You slept with a married man?” I asked incredulously. Then I couldn’t stop myself. “And you have the audacity to refer to Lyle as a queer?”

“Hey, I made a mistake,” she said defensively. “I repented from my sin and asked God for forgiveness. Victor has made several requests to repeat what we did, but I turned him down every time.”

I looked at Willa, smiling at the playing children. As was her habit, she slowly ran her left hand over the baby bump on her abdomen. Her wedding band twinkled in the sunlight. Her simple movements were casually sensual, yet wholesome and motherly. I glanced at Carly as she continued to ramble on with justifications for her hypocrisy. I needed to turn our conversation back to superficial things, like the weather, and then come up with an exit strategy. I gazed back at Willa in time to see her giggle at something little Kirk had done. Willa looked at me and smiled. I smiled back.

Approximately three years before, Carly had broken my heart when she had declined my marriage proposal and told me there was someone else. In that devastating moment, I never would have thought that a few dozen months later, she and I would be sitting at a playground watching our children play. Even more, I never would have dreamed that as we did so, I would be extremely grateful that she had betrayed me.

Carly’s phone chirped and she looked at it. She sighed and began typing vigorously. Willa winked, then kissed her fingers and blew the kiss at me. It caused a wonderful stir inside me as her ways constantly did. I couldn’t thank Carly enough for dumping me. I winked back at the love of my life as she continued to caress our unborn child. Yes, indeed, my love life couldn’t have turned out better!

EPILOGUE

PASTOR KIRK SAMSON

 I was at the hospital for the best thing that happens there, the birth of a little human being. It was shortly after Willa and Willie welcomed their second child, a beautiful baby girl. I had prayed with the young couple and their new little gift from God. Then after I said my goodbyes, my phone rang. When I saw the caller I.D. I grinned. It was an old Army buddy and fellow former Army Chaplain.

  “Hey there, Major Pain.”

  “I retired a Lieutenant Colonel, and you know it, Cappy.”

  “Fair enough, Colonel Sanders.”

  “Come on, gimme a break.”

Theodore Sanders Paynton spent twenty-two years as an Army Chaplain. For several years he held the rank of Major. Therefore his buddies gave him the nickname Major Pain. It was only fair; he was the first one to coin me with the moniker Captain Kirk. So when he achieved the rank of Lieutenant Colonel, I stuck him with the name of the KFC chicken tycoon. I had already left the Army, but I let our fellow pals know what his middle name was.

“Alright, one break coming up,” I laughed. “It’s been a while old buddy, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

There was a pause, and when he spoke, his voice switched from good old buddies to military directness. “John McQueen died last night.”

“You don’t say,” I responded, a bit stunned for several reasons. “He had to be over a hundred then, cause we’re…”

“I know hold we are,” he barked, but then chuckled.

One thing bonded Teddy and me above our comrades. He and I were both farm boys from Iowa. We even ended up pastoring churches in the same Iowa town. This was actually by design rather than by chance. And we enjoyed over four years of living in the same community.

But one thing divided us. It could have, but for the grace of God, ruined our friendship. It was back in 1980. And it involved a wealthy sixty-one-year-old parishioner of his named John McQueen. He wanted to marry a dirt poor, but very beautiful, eighteen-year-old parishioner of mine.

Teddy encouraged the union; I discouraged the union. But he had the upper hand. The wholesome sweetheart that I had baptized three years earlier was torn. She desperately wanted to help her single mother and two younger siblings. So she was as torn as I had ever seen a human being. She was not only scared to marry a man not only old enough to be her father, but her grandfather. She was scared not to. It broke my heart when she asked me a question, and I told her only she knew answer.

“Pastor,” she had asked. “If I marry him, would I be selfless, or a sell out?”

So, in the weeks to follow, why don’t we call this story of tainted attraction ‘TO BE SELFLESS OR A SELL OUT.’