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“Got it.” She realized she was biting her lip. “Well, this isn’t Atlanta. We’ll figure this out, but right now your mother has to be taken care of. No ifs, ands or buts. You see that, right?”
Shiloh gave a curt nod.
“Did you eat?”
“I had pie!” Dougie seemed unaware of the tension in the room. Analiese thought he had experienced so much in his short life that he probably thought this was normal.
“How about a bagel and fruit?” She got to her feet. “Man, there’s coffee in the bag. Did you see it?”
The Fowlers were just finishing their meal when somebody knocked. Analiese opened the door for Peter, who was carrying a medical bag.
He glared at her. “I gave up house calls a long time ago.”
“You only say you did. Now you call it visiting.”
“I’ve never been sure why we hired you.”
“Me either.” She stepped aside and introduced him. Soon after her arrival Belle’s coughing had eased, and Man said she’d fallen asleep. Now, however, it began once more.
“Let’s get moving,” Peter said. “Mr. Fowler, would you go in with me, please? And Reverend Ana?”
They left Shiloh and Dougie and went into the bedroom. Belle was sitting up, and she frowned at the invasion. Luckily she was too sick to make a fuss. The introductions were made, and ten minutes later they were back in the living room.
Peter addressed Man as he scribbled something on a piece of paper. “We’ll need a chest X-ray and blood work, and I’ll write the order. These people owe me a couple of favors, so go here and they’ll do it without charging you.” He handed Man the paper. “Once I know what’s up I can prescribe the right meds unless she has to go into the hospital. I don’t think it’s that bad yet, but it will be if you don’t get her on antibiotics right away. I have samples, so you don’t have to worry about paying for those either.” He didn’t wait for a response. “Reverend Ana, may I see you outside?”
Ana walked him to the door and then through it, closing it behind her.
“That woman can’t go anywhere until she’s better unless it’s the hospital. You understand what I’m saying? We send her out into this weather for anything more than lab work and she’ll be at serious risk. If she doesn’t have pneumonia, she’s on the verge, and I’m guessing she has other problems, too, maybe even diabetes, that have to be addressed, and quickly.”
“Would you like to explain that to the executive committee?”
“I’m going to let you do that. You got us into this mess.”
“What should I have done?”
He shook his head. “Don’t ask me for absolution. I give out antibiotics and bad news. I have my specialty. You have yours.”
She thanked him. He harrumphed and left.
She continued to stand there, surrounded by empty space with no purpose other than to collect dust and harbor mice. Then, steeling herself, she went back to tell Man and Shiloh she was going to do everything she could to keep them in this apartment until Belle was well enough to leave it.
* * *
The council executive committee was comprised of five members and Analiese. Normally the church had an associate pastor who was also a member, but since Analiese’s arrival three excellent associates had moved on to become senior pastors in their own churches. The year-long search for a replacement hadn’t yet resulted in a new candidate the search committee could agree on.
The search committee was almost as contentious as the small group sitting together at the table in the council room.
As always Analiese offered a prayer at the opening of the meeting, and as Garrett outlined the situation she examined the familiar faces, wondering who would be her ally.
She thought Garrett would be willing to host the Fowlers if it in no way interfered with the running of the church and the collecting of pledges. She was fairly certain he would need an attorney to weigh in on legalities, but the church was full of them, many who would sympathize with the Fowlers’ plight. She would make certain one of that group was contacted.
Betty McAllister, first vice president, was a septuagenarian active in social causes and known for alienating members who didn’t agree with her. Analiese thought that she would be a staunch ally.
Nora Pizarro, second vice president, was sleek, sixtyish, and conservative down to her bone marrow. The only good solution was tried-and-true, and if the church had never given shelter to a homeless family in its more than hundred-year history, then that would be enough evidence the idea was a bad one.
Their secretary, John Glinton, was newly elected, recently retired from a job in the aerospace industry in Houston, and a mystery.
At twenty-four the last member, their treasurer Carolina Cooper, was by far the youngest: vivacious, entertaining and astute. Unfortunately she was also absent.
“Analiese?” Garrett turned the conversation over to her.
“First, I appreciate you turning out on such short notice,” she began. Quickly she filled in the details that Garrett hadn’t had access to, for the most part her conversation with Peter.
She ended by telling them what Man had done as she was leaving the apartment. “These people are desperate. He tried to give me his wedding ring in payment for what we’ve already given them, a dusty apartment and Thanksgiving leftovers.”
She swallowed a lump that was threatening to form in her throat and composed herself. “These people don’t want to be here. They want to be in their own home, working at jobs to support their family. Man would still be happily earning union wages if his factory hadn’t closed. Belle had a steady part-time job stocking shelves at the local discount store until the stress of their situation destroyed her health.”
“How do you know any of this?” Nora asked. “Is this what they told you?”
“As I was leaving, Shiloh, the daughter, told me about her mother.”
“I assume you don’t believe everything you hear.”
Analiese managed to keep her voice steady and her tone pleasant. “I used to work in television news. So no, we can assume I don’t.”
“What evidence do you have they aren’t lying?”
“For one thing a respected physician from our congregation who knows what a sick woman looks like. My best instincts for another. The facts, which are irrefutable. According to our school system there are more than seven hundred homeless children living in this county with their families. I strongly believe one of those families is now ours to deal with.”
“They wouldn’t be if you had sent them on their way.”
Betty interrupted, “And where would they be, Nora? Cold, friendless, with a sick woman coughing her guts out in a car somewhere? That’s the Christian solution?”
Garrett held up his hand to stop what was clearly escalating into a fight. “Let’s consider the options. Reverend Ana did not send the Fowlers on their way. She did what we hired her to do, which was to use her best judgment, whether we agree with her decision or not. Right now we need to figure out what to do with this family.”
“I suggest we find them a motel and pay for a night. Even two,” Nora added grudgingly.
“I see no point in paying for a motel and limiting our involvement. I think we can keep them in the apartment. What harm will there be?” Betty said.
John spoke for the first time. “What harm might there be? Let’s consider the worst-case scenario and the best. Then let’s vote.”
The meeting continued. Analiese had said her piece and now she sat back and listened. John and Garrett were logical and analytical. Betty was passionate, and Nora was clearly angry.
Thirty minutes later John made a motion. “I motion we allow these people to continue living in the apartment for two weeks while Reverend Ana, who brought this problem to our doorstep, looks for a better situation for them and for us. Of course if they cause any problems, they will have to go immediately.”
Garrett reminded the committee that the next full council meeting was in two weeks, so John’s motion would take them to that point. He called for a vote. Analiese, who was a voting member of the committee, added her voice to the yeas.
Nora was the lone nay. “And what do we do if they’re still here in two weeks?” she demanded.
“We’ll put you in charge of evicting them,” Betty said.
Garrett held up his hand again. “Let’s not even think about that, okay? Not yet. The council will want to know what happened here, and I’m hoping we can present a united front.”
“You don’t always get what you hope for,” Nora said, getting gracefully to her feet. She was the first to leave.
Analiese stood, too. “Thank you for a good discussion and a good solution.”
After the others left Garrett remained. He was a tall man, and although she was five foot seven, she had to look up at him when he spoke. “I think it’s imperative you find another place for these people, Ana. It won’t go this well if we have to vote again. John was sitting on the fence, and the full council is less adaptable than we are.”
“And you?”
He shrugged.
She had guessed as much. “I can’t make promises. Resources in Buncombe County, like everywhere, are stretched too thin.”
“I know how busy you are, but you’re going to have to work hard at this. Find somebody to help you.”
After he left she straightened the chairs around the table and wondered if a male minister would have noticed that the chairs were in disarray. For that matter would her male colleagues have stood up to the committee and insisted that they not set a time limit on charity?
The best question: Would her male colleagues—or her female ones—have gotten into this situation in the first place?
Of course she could never know where anybody else would have stood today. But despite everything else, she did feel that a man who had died on a cross thousands of years before had been standing right beside her.
chapter eight (#ulink_bc7954fb-e43a-53ae-bf3f-32d3813384bd)
SHILOH HAD NEVER met a lady minister, and she was sure she would remember if she had met one who looked like Reverend Ana. Today she was wearing a dark skirt with a bright green shirt hanging loose over it and a pretty circular flowered scarf looped around her neck. Shiloh never worried much about what she would look like when she was an adult—there were too many other things to worry about—but for just a moment, as she opened the door to Analiese, she was sorry she was never going to look like that.
“Are your parents here?” Analiese asked.
“Daddy took Mama to get those tests about an hour ago.” She lifted her chin defiantly. “But we’re all packed, and we’ll leave just as soon as she gets her medicine. I’m sorry if we stayed too long.”
“Not long enough. I just met with the committee in charge of these things, and we’d like you to stay another two weeks while we help you find a more permanent place.”
Even if she did pray for it each night Shiloh knew better than to believe anything good would ever happen to the Fowlers. But for a moment she felt just a sliver of something like hope.
“Why?” From experience, she knew this was the question most suited for putting hope back in its place.
“Because this is a church, and even if we don’t always remember why we exist, we did remember today.”
Shiloh was puzzled and her expression must have showed it, because Analiese smiled. “In other words because we can help and we want to.”
“Why? What will you get?”
The smile softened. “Sometimes people do things just because they’re right. Your family’s having a hard time. The church is able to help.”
“Most of the time people do things because they get something out of it.”
“Like feeling good about life? Like knowing that they’re making a difference in the world?”
“Like driving to the food bank in a fancy car and doling out dented tuna cans, and then telling you you’re selfish if you ask for more than one. Even if there are plenty.”
“I think with all you’ve been through it must be hard to see how many good people there are, and how many of them are genuinely concerned.”
Shiloh knew better than to argue. Whatever the reason, her family had a roof over their heads for the next two weeks. It might be a mini-miracle, but it was a miracle nonetheless.
“Where’s Dougie?” Analiese asked.
“In the bedroom. I’m making him do his schoolwork.” She realized Analiese was still waiting to be invited in, and she stepped aside and motioned.
“What kind of schoolwork? Do you have textbooks?”
Shiloh had to laugh at that. “Where would we get textbooks? Where would we keep them?”
“What’s he doing then?”
“I make up math puzzles, and I make him keep a journal, and I go over it and correct his grammar and spelling if I need to, and we talk about it.”
“You said you didn’t like school in Atlanta. What about Dougie?”
“He was always in trouble. He can’t sit still.”
Analiese nodded, as if that made sense when, of course, it didn’t.
Shiloh changed the subject. “If we stay, may we use the stove and cook?”
“Absolutely. I didn’t get as far as cleaning the inside of the cabinets. Are there pans?”
Shiloh had checked every corner of the apartment. “A few.”
“May I look?”
“It’s yours, isn’t it?”
Analiese didn’t answer. She crossed the room and peeked inside the cabinets. “I bet you couldn’t even heat the leftovers I brought up last night.”
“It didn’t matter.”
“We’ll get you more, and linens and towels. Dishes. Silverware.”
“We have things in our car we can use.”
“Why don’t you leave them packed for now and we’ll see what I can rustle up today?”
“There’s a washer and dryer.”
“I don’t know if they’re still functional. I’ll ask our sexton if they were working before he left. Then we’ll give them a try, and you’ll be welcome to use them.”
Shiloh tried to imagine two weeks of clean clothes. Really clean. Not gas-station-sink-clean.
