Blessed Trinity. Vanessa Davis Griggs
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“Would you like me to bring you some, Reverend Knight?” Sherry asked.
“You’re welcome to have some of mine,” Pastor Landris said.
“If you could bring me a small plate, I think I’ll take the good Pastor Landris here up on his offer and liberate him of some of his. This way, I’ll be halfway doing better.”
“Oh, my,” Sherry said. “It really is you! You’re Pastor Landris. Oh, my goodness! I knew it. I told one of my coworkers back there that you looked just like that Pastor Landris who used to come on television all the time. Dreadlocks and all! She said I was tripping. Wait until she finds out it really is you. You here visiting?”
“No—actually, I just moved here.”
“You…are…kidding me! You actually moved from Atlanta to Birmingham? That’s awesome. Are you the pastor of a church yet?” She was giving her full attention to Pastor Landris.
Reverend Knight looked at her as though he couldn’t believe he was having to wait to get the plate he’d just requested.
“I’m working on starting a church congregation. But no, I’m not a pastor here as yet.”
“Well, if I have my way,” Reverend Knight said, “he will be soon. I’m trying to convince him to come aboard The Church of Revelation. You’ve been to our church.”
Sherry looked at Reverend Knight and smiled, then turned back to Pastor Landris. “Pastor Landris, I loved watching you on television. A few of us wondered what happened to you. There was this other preacher who started coming on in your place. His name escapes me, and truthfully, he really wasn’t that good. It didn’t surprise me he didn’t stay on TV long. Anyway, if I were to give you my name, address, and phone number, would you please let me know when you begin holding services? I know so many people who would love to come hear you.” Sherry wrote her information down, tore off the sheet from her ordering pad, and handed it to him.
“I’ll let you know,” Pastor Landris said as he folded the paper and stuck it inside his jacket pocket.
Reverend Knight cleared his throat. Sherry looked at him. “My plate?” he said.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I’ll get that for you right now. Sorry.” She left and came back in minutes.
“Enjoy,” she said, her attention mainly directed at Pastor Landris. “It was so nice meeting you.” She flashed a warm smile at them both, even though her last comment only applied to Pastor Landris.
“Same here,” Pastor Landris said.
“See, that’s what I’m talking about,” Reverend Knight said after she was out of earshot. “Better not let your wife find that phone number on you.” He shook his head and smiled. “Smooth,” he said. “May we say grace now?” He bowed his head and prayed.
Looking back up at Pastor Landris, Reverend Knight took his fork and rolled two of the golden brown, fried macaroni and cheese balls onto his plate. “Mmm-mmm. These look divine!”
“Yes, they do,” Pastor Landris said, slicing one of the four left on his plate with his fork. He placed it in his mouth. “You’re right about this—they are good.”
“Okay. Now, back to my question: where are you and your family attending church these days?”
“We have fellowshipped at my wife’s home church in Edgewater. And we’ve popped in and popped out of a few other churches.”
“But not mine?”
Pastor Landris placed another bite in his mouth and savored the warm cheese and macaroni alongside the fried, crusty taste of the crisp outsides. “No, not yours.”
“I extended a personal invitation to you in December as soon as you arrived. I thought you would come. Then I saw you last month and invited you.”
“And you made me a proposition that I politely turned down.”
“True. But you were also interested in that building I happen to be in control of. Have you located another place yet to get started with your church?” Reverend Knight ate a spoonful of his clam chowder. He shoved it away from him. “This is cold.” He looked around for their waitress. When he got her attention, he beckoned for her.
“Yes?”
“Could you bring me some fresh, hot soup? This is cold.”
She looked from him to the bowl of chowder. “Sure. I’m sorry about that.” Sherry picked up the bowl—it was still hot.
Reverend Knight wiped his mouth with his white linen napkin and looked at Pastor Landris, still awaiting an answer. “A place—have you found one yet?”
“Not that it’s really any of your concern—”
“Or business. You can go on and say it.” Reverend Knight ate some more of the fried macaroni and cheese.
Pastor Landris couldn’t help but smile at this man. “I’m still looking.”
“What are your plans if you don’t find a suitable place soon?”
“Careful, Reverend Knight—you might start to sound like you really care.”
Reverend Knight ate his last bite. “You doubt that I do?”
“The thought has occurred to me a few times, especially after I learned my almost done-deal became a none-deal at your hand.”
“Again. What are your plans?” His new bowl of chowder arrived. He tasted it and nodded his approval. Sherry smiled and left.
Pastor Landris finished off the last of his fried macaroni and cheese. He wiped his mouth. “Who knows? Since quite a few people are interested in me getting started, I might just begin in my home. I’m sure you’re aware that’s where the early churches in the Bible began—inside people’s homes. There’s no shame in that.”
Reverend Knight began shaking his head. “Please don’t do that. You have too much of a reputation to allow that to get around town. I can see the headlines now: The Great, Magnificent, and Anointed Pastor George Landris, Reduced to Holding Church Services Inside His Home.”
“Nothing embarrassing about it to me. As long as people are hearing the Word of God and getting saved, what difference does it make where a service takes place?”
Their entrees arrived. “Whoa, Nellie,” Reverend Knight said as he watched both plates being placed before them. “I always forget how much food they give you here.”
“Can I get you gentlemen anything else?” Sherry asked.
“What was I saying?” Reverend Knight said, ignoring her. His cell phone began to buzz and vibrate on the table. “Oh, yeah—I can’t let you go out like that.”
Pastor Landris