A Million Blessings Read online

  Brianna pressed her foot on the gas. Divorce or not, she was going to have to keep an eye on her ex-husband…and her friend.

  Chapter 4

  The timing couldn’t have been worse.

  Craig buttoned his suit coat with regret as he headed toward his first speaking engagement, an invitation to give his testimony to some professional athletes in the area. Some of the men who once coached him would be there, too, since the event was to raise funds for the Fellowship of Christian Athletes.

  In high school and college, Craig had attended those events, always amazed by the steadfast faith of the players and coaches who came to share. And now he, a divorced and damaged ex-player, would be the evening’s attraction. Even as he reached for the keys to his aunt’s car, he considered backing out.

  The phone rang before he could dial. He smiled as he recognized the number. Pastor Green.

  “Hello, Pastor.” He’d known. Even when Craig was a kid, that man always seemed to know what people were feeling.

  “Hello. Now look here, son. There’s nothing to be nervous about, hear? We overcome the enemy by the blood of the Lamb and the word of our testimony. And you’ve got a testimony, so just tell it, a’ight? God’ll do the rest.”

  Craig blew out a breath. “I guess. I just don’t know what to say. I’m not one of those guys always trying to give speeches and perpetrate. I just played ball. And now even that’s messed up.”

  The pastor laughed. “So tell ’em that, son. You’d be surprised what folks need to hear. Just keep it real and let God do the rest. Now, go on. The whole men’s ministry is over there waiting on you. Don’t make me come and get you.”

  “No, sir,” Craig said, laughing to himself and heading toward the Emerald Greens Country Club where the fund-raiser was being held. He had to laugh at pulling up there in his aunt’s Mercury Grand Marquis instead of one of his sports cars. He’d sold most of them and split the money with Brianna in the divorce, but as evidenced by her trip to Tampa, she’d probably burned through that money by now. Aunt Tee’s ride was comfortable, though, even if it did feel like driving a flotation device. As big as Craig was, the car still seemed huge.

  Once he arrived, Craig was thankful for the easy ride. He quickly found himself facing men who he hadn’t seen in years. Men who had prayed for him, trained him, and now felt sorry for him. He could see it in their eyes.

  The evening went quickly, and soon Craig found himself at the podium with a microphone in front of him. His talk was short but powerful as he bore his heart about many of the parts of his journey, including the heights of winning his first Super Bowl to the low of losing his wife.

  “She was just something else that I had to have, and then when I got her, she was just something else to keep. I loved her once, but in all the running to nowhere, I forgot that. Don’t let that happen to you. Keep the main thing the main thing. God, family, then football.”

  There was the giving, too, the Craig Richards Foundation. Giving that he hadn’t planned for but had reaped the benefits of.

  “Invest in people. At the end of the day, that’s what matters. My cars aren’t rehabbing my knee, the kid I helped put through college is. My house isn’t praying for me, my pastor is. There will always be something more to buy, but God said it best—store up your treasures in heaven.”

  Craig didn’t think that what he’d said was anything particularly insightful, but when he was finished, every guy in the room came to tell him something about how his story related to their lives, even the coaches and high school kids from FCA. When he’d shaken the last hand, Craig found Dante in a middle of a crowd calling for order.

  “Who’s next?” his friend shouted as he scribbled down something on the notepad he always kept in his pocket.

  “What are you doing, man? Taking bets on me?”

  Dante laughed. “Even better. I’m booking your speaking engagements.” He flipped through several pages of his notebook with dates and times.

  Craig took a step back, glancing at one of the dates, several months in advance. The next month looked booked solid, with Craig speaking every few days. That would cut into his rehab time, not to mention his helping Dante out after school with the team.

  He’d wanted to be honest and encouraging, not become some goofy guru, going around spouting things at people. What was God trying to do?

  Life back in Atlanta wasn’t as wonderful as Brianna had thought it would be. The word was definitely out about her breakup with Craig as her phone had started blowing up with messages inviting her on dates as soon as she crossed the Georgia border. The problem was, the only man on Brianna’s mind was her ex-husband—or the church boy pretending to be him.

  Try as she might, she couldn’t shake the image of Craig bowed on his hurt knee before the cross. She’d married him after he’d bowed before her like that, only to become a wild thing who often left her crying on his whirlwind trips in and out of town. And in just a few days, the church had done what she could not—tame her husband.

  It was what Brianna always thought she wanted, but now she wasn’t sure. The fighting and games were all she knew, and now Craig refused to fight back. A year ago, if she’d left him like this, he’d have taken a red-eye flight and been waiting to pick her up and carry her home. Now, he was Mr. Nice Guy, and life with her own father had taught her that nice guys never win.

  “Hey, do you have some unmentionables?” It was Asia, annoying and unwilling to go home. She was on the make, too. It was so obvious that some of the guys who came to see Brianna avoided her.

  “What?”

  “Unmentionables. You know, the monthly rations. Goodness, girl. Where do you keep your tampons!”

  Brianna closed her eyes. If Asia hadn’t been her girl from back in the day…She got up and went to the bathroom, shoving things aside until she found what her friend wanted.

  A whole box of them.

  “Are these the same ones you had when I was up here last, when we were planning Craig’s demise? You ain’t had a cycle since then? Don’t tell me you pregnant, ’cause that would just be stupid….

  Brianna dropped the box and fell back against the bathroom wall. Though she’d been with Craig a few weeks before the breakup, she’d been safe. She’d made sure of it. But she hadn’t planned on staying so long in Tampa, hadn’t brought her birth control along. There’d been no reason to.

  “I’m not pregnant,” Brianna said softly. “I can’t be.” She promised herself that it would never happen. Not with Craig. Not ever.

  “I mean, out of anybody I know, you are the most careful. I thought you would have been done gave that man a son. But now? I mean, for real, sis. I should have known when you said that you were staying over there, that wasn’t a good idea. Is that why you running home? You divorced the man and then got knocked up? Now that is a ridiculous plan, but I’m gonna trust you on it. We should do something. Get you vitamins or something. That’s what we did last time, right?”

  “Don’t go there, Asia.”

  Her friend’s face softened. “My bad. Seriously, though, what do you want me to do?”

  “Nothing. Just leave me alone.”

  Sunday couldn’t come fast enough, not for Craig and not for Dante, especially since Craig had made the mistake of telling Dante what had happened between him and Brianna. It was all Craig could do to keep from hopping a plane to ATL. By now, fools would be swarming, especially the dudes who’d been jealous of him. He’d seen the looks in their eyes when he and Brianna had had parties, the same look he’d had when Bri was on the arm of Terrell Rue. And now, there was nothing Craig could do or say about it. According to Dante, he shouldn’t care.

  “Snap out of it, bruh. You can’t let her do you like this, man. I’m for real. You’re making it bad for brothers everywhere. If Craig Richards can get rolled up out of his bed, what chance does the next man have to hold it down with his woman? No. You can’t let her play with your head. She chose the divorce. You can’t run after her this tim
e.”

  Though Dante was usually the one to take Brianna’s side when Craig did something stupid, there was no love lost between the two of them, especially since his own wife, Tenisha, had taken part in rolling Craig out of his bed. Craig wanted to tell Dante that he didn’t have to worry. The sistah squad wouldn’t be rolling up in his bedroom anytime soon.

  “She’s your wife, man.” Dante would always tell Craig when he was saying or doing something stupid. Sometimes Dante would even remind Craig of how he’d acted such a fool to get Brianna, how he’d done everything in those first few years of his career to be worthy of her.

  Now, though, it seemed as though Dante was sick of both of them.

  “I’m not saying you’re a saint or anything. One trip down the aisle doesn’t change the facts. You’ve done some dirt, but Bri wasn’t trying to go anywhere then, because that money was flowing. Now a man gets hurt, and you bring your girls and clean out the house? Naw, man. That ain’t right. You gave that girl everything you had.”

  Everything but what she needed.

  “Man, I don’t want to talk about it, okay? You didn’t trip like this when it happened. I just called to see if you’re coming to church this morning or if you’re attending Bedside Baptist.”

  “Oh, I see. You got jokes now? Huh? Let a brothah go to the altar one time and now he’s the church secretary, taking attendance.”

  “Naw. For real, though. I was just asking…”

  There was a lengthy pause on the line. Dante had joined Soul Harvest Worship Church years ago and made his respectable appearances on Christmas, Easter, and the occasional Sunday that Tenisha dragged him there.

  Dante cleared his throat. “Look, don’t start, okay? I know you got the peace that passes understanding down in your heart and all that, but I’m not up for a Sunday School class right now. Tenisha’s mama is here.”

  Craig swallowed hard and prayed for his friend. That woman was insane. Certifiable. “Now? As in right now?”

  “This second, dog. She’s in the kitchen fighting with ’Nisha. I’m about to cut out to run a few miles, but she’ll be waiting for me with something to say. Even the kids have been dreading it. Man, if I mention going to church this morning, she’ll have Tenisha out the next hour buying matching suits for the kids or some foolishness. She tries to be so saddity when she knows good and well I bought the first St. John suit she ever wore.”

  Now, that was the truth. Tenisha was a sweet girl and Dante’s kids were too cute, but Tenisha’s mama? Even Bri couldn’t hang with her. She was something else. Couldn’t stand anybody, even her own daughter. Except Craig, that is.

  “Want me to take her off your hands for a few hours? I can take her to church with me while you spend some time with T and the kids.”

  “Would you? I wouldn’t ask, but you know she loves your tired behind. When I told her you got saved, she had a fit. Ran all around the room. She acts like you’re her son-in-law instead of me.”

  At least somebody loves me.

  “Yeah, well. I’ll pick her up around eight. Anything I should know?” Craig felt as if he were agreeing to babysit a child.

  “Just one thing.”

  Here we go. “What?”

  “A lottery ticket. She buys one every Sunday. Bring it with you and give it to her or she’s going to have you stopping at twenty hundred stores on the way. You know the Georgia jackpot is booming right now, so she’s going to be all over it.”

  Craig had to laugh then. Or at least he tried. “A lottery ticket? On Sunday? Man, that has to be about the craziest thing I ever heard, but I’m going to trust you on it. How do I know what numbers to play?”

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s not like she’s going to win. Just pick something. Pick an old play or something. And for real, do something about Brianna. Tenisha is over here talking trash to me already. And if them heifers think they’re ever going to turn me up out of my bed—”

  “They won’t. Later, man.”

  Dante took a deep breath. “Later.”

  Craig showed up at Dante’s at eight o’clock on the dot with lottery ticket in hand. He’d felt like a fool buying it. One person in the store had recognized him and commented that things were really bad if Craig Richards was playing Lotto. Craig didn’t bother to explain. Truth be told, things were pretty bad. He’d gotten a call from his accountant and between the divorce, the new house, and his bad investments, the money wasn’t adding up. By the time Craig paid his taxes, he’d be screwed for real.

  “You’ve got to get Brianna to agree to sell the house. I know that it didn’t sell before, but she’s going to lose it anyway. Call her and see what you two can work out,” his accountant had said. Craig hadn’t bother to explain to him, either. He and Brianna didn’t have rational discussions. Wild, passionate sex? Absolutely. But normal communication? Rarely.

  It was Sunday, though, and Craig had decided to leave his burdens at home. Or at least he’d thought so until Tenisha’s mother, Mrs. Wright, got into his car.

  She started by pinching his cheek. Hard. Craig overcame the impulse to swing his fist and settled back into his seat, waiting for her to let go.

  Eventually she did. “How are you, baby? What’s this you bringing me? A lottery ticket? Now, you now I’m a woman of God and I don’t gamble, but I’m going to let you off the hook ’cause you just got saved. Put that thing away. You might need it once that woman gets through with you. Yes, I heard all about it….”

  It was probably more like overheard, but there was no use in finessing that point. Craig listened to Mrs. Wright’s recommendations on how to get Brianna back all the way to church. When they pulled into the parking lot at Soul Harvest and got out, a slender white man with a ponytail approached. By now, Craig knew him well enough to recognize him for what he was—a bearer of bad news.

  “Are you Craig Richards?”

  “C’mon, man. Let’s not play this game. You know who I am. What do you want?” Craig said, holding back Dante’s mother-in-law as she hurled insults at the man.

  “This is for you. Please sign here,” the man said, handing Craig a slim package and his clipboard.

  Craig scribbled his signature, wondering what Brianna had drummed up now that was important enough to have him served at church.

  “Just a crying shame. That girl is as trifling as she ever was, but nobody listens to me. I told your mama back then to get you away from her. Them Davises ain’t nothing but—”

  “Juanita, it’s good to have you in God’s house this morning. How was your trip?” Pastor Green cut through the tension like butter as he took Dante’s mother-in-law by the arm and led her away. He turned back to Craig with a smile. “It ain’t a testimony without a test, brother. Stand. Just stand.”

  Stand.

  As one of the deacons hustled the messenger out a side entrance, it was all Craig could do to obey his pastor and keep his feet underneath him. He should have waited until after service to look at the contents of the package, but curiosity got the best of him. He ripped the package open, only to be surprised when a stack of photos littered to the floor instead of the stack of legal documents announcing some other proceedings he’d been expecting.

  He knelt and picked up one of the pictures but didn’t rise as he realized what he was seeing: Brianna, in her angel dress, laughing as she danced with Terrell Rue. The photo was dated from the day before.

  Probably the night before.

  Only when Pastor Green returned and put his hand on Craig’s back did he start walking, and even then his feet felt like lead.

  “Sometimes the enemy tries to steal away the word before it can take root, son. Stand strong and see the salvation of the Lord, brother. It’s coming.”

  For the first time since walking the aisle at Soul Harvest a few weeks ago, Craig was starting to wonder. “When is it coming? I don’t see it. First my knee, now this. It seems like the closer I get to God, the worse things get.”

  The pastor smiled. “Exactly. Think
about that, brother. Why do you think that might be? The enemy doesn’t like losing souls from his kingdom. He can’t take you to hell anymore, but he sure doesn’t want you sharing your faith or doing anything real for the kingdom. He wants to shake you before you get rooted good, but God’s got you. We’ve got you too. Hold on, Brother Craig. Just hold on.”

  And though that man was a foot shorter than him and fifty pounds lighter, Craig did just what Pastor Green said—he held on. For today at least, his life seemed to depend on it.

  Chapter 5

  Word got around fast about Brianna’s pictures. Craig went on running, rehabbing, and speaking, growing closer to God each day while trying to dodge all the women who were coming after him.

  “They think y’all are truly over now,” his aunt said. “A single man going to church with a job—”

  “I work for the high school, Aunt Tee. My money is almost all gone. I’m hardly a catch.”

  The old woman shook her head and untied her apron. “You just don’t get it, do you? You have no idea who you are. Even now with Christ inside you. Well, they see, baby, and guess what? They’re not going to go away quietly. So get ready because the word is out that you’re home tonight, and the last time I looked outside, them hussies were winding around the block.”

  In disbelief, Craig peeked out the window. He could hardly believe his eyes. What looked like an army of women were coming his way, and not one of them looked like she was taking any prisoners.

  “What am I supposed to do?”

  His aunt laughed. “You’ll figure it out. I would stay, but I’m embarrassed for these sisters. I don’t want to have to look at one of them in the face at church, knowing how they came over here and showed out like this.”

  Craig wouldn’t take it that far.

  They did look like the welcoming committee for a nation of angry females, but beyond that, Craig figured they were just trying to be nice. The doorbell rang, giving him a chance to test his theory.