Chasing Faith

  “Never mind all that—I’ve learned the hard way that to win in politics you must play dirty. I’m sorry,” Reverend Stokes said without regret. “It wasn’t personal. Your girlfriend just could help me with my business. She’ll be cleared.”

  “How? Have you sent a letter to the Agency telling them all this?”

  “Have you lost your mind?” Stokes’s booming voice maxed out the volume level on the recorder. “I can’t publicly admit my involvement in all this.”

  “You could have gotten her killed, being connected to those goons.”

  Reverend Stokes said, “I knew nothing about what else they had planned, and that’s why I have to carefully pull myself away from them. You understand, son—they’re dangerous people, and I told Agent Ware she should take the fall for this or I couldn’t control what might happen.”

  The room was silent. Sebastian clicked the Stop button on the tape recorder.

  Sebastian stared at the committee. “That should be enough to clear Christian Ware of all allegations of campaign fraud.”

  “Can we have a copy of that tape?” asked the presiding officer.

  Sebastian took the small tape out of the recorder and handed it to him. “I have the original in a safe place,” he added.

  The committee went off to deliberate again. Sebastian, Greg, and I walked out into the busy hallway. We talked about the possible outcome. Sebastian guided me to a bench away from everyone, where he kissed me and told me that God would make everything all right. We then joined hands and prayed that God would allow the committee to see the truth.

  Greg motioned for Sebastian and me minutes later, when the committee came back. Once again, I stood and faced the presiding officer. “We are pleased to report that Agent Ware is cleared of any accusations of wrongdoing and her Federal Agent status will be reinstated. However, because of this case we have no choice but to relieve Agent Ware of her temp Secret Service position. We cannot have her protecting a man who set her up.”

  I jumped up, shouted, and hugged Sebastian. Then I hugged Greg and thanked him for doing such a great job.

  After lots of hugging and screaming, people finally started filing out of the conference room. When everyone else had left, I turned to Sebastian. “You just proved that your father lied so that I would be reinstated as a Federal Agent. What will you tell your father when this information gets out? How will this affect your relationship with him?”

  He didn’t answer, but just held me tight.

  Lord, I prayed, I hope the price he paid doesn’t end up being too high.

  I felt lighter than an air balloon. Outside the conference room, many reporters tried talking to me. Agent Barrington came over to me first.

  Since the Agency knew I could sue them for slander and unfair termination, they tried to appease me by having Agent Barrington tell me that I would be paid for the time I was suspended, and even though I wasn’t going to be protecting Cool Falcon, they’d love to forward me to another detail. In addition, I could take more time off with pay, plus a bonus, and start working again at the beginning of the new year, in the Secret Service or FBI.

  Sebastian pulled me over to the bench where we’d prayed earlier. “I need another favor.”

  “Anything.”

  “Come back to Atlanta with me.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, since you are on vacation and I’m trying to win this campaign, I thought that you could come with me on the campaign trail so we could spend some time together.”

  “If you’re sure that’s what you want, I’m there.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Can we visit my mom first?” I asked.

  “Oh, I think it’s about time I met your mother,” he said with a smile.

  My mom welcomed Sebastian warmly, and thanked him about a million times for sticking his neck out for me.

  “Mrs. Ware, I love your daughter,” he said, holding my hands as we sat close on the living room couch. “I didn’t do anything heroic.”

  My mom just looked at me and smiled.

  “I apologize for whisking her back and forth between D.C. and Atlanta,” Sebastian continued. “I know you haven’t seen much of your daughter lately.”

  Mom grabbed his hand. “My dear young man, you didn’t exactly twist her arm. Don’t let her fool you. She likes being whisked about.”

  We all laughed.

  “You’re good for my daughter,” Mom said. “Since your father is ‘The Reverend Stokes,’ I’ve watched you since you were a little boy. But I never would have thought I’d see you two getting married someday.”

  She squeezed him with a bear hug. He peered up at me and blushed.

  As our plane took off, Sebastian sat beside me in silence. He seemed deeply burdened. I took his hand and squeezed it tight. We were having such a great time with my mom, and all of a sudden he’d turned sullen. What was wrong?

  Finally he opened up and simply said, “I can’t believe what lengths my dad would go to, to become president. Could anyone stoop lower?”

  “I’m sorry—really I am. I hate that you have to go through this with your family.”

  He didn’t say a word, just squeezed my hand back and offered one of his smooth smiles.

  Lord, I need You to help me support Sebastian. Thank You for putting our relationship back on track. Our relationship has had its ups and downs, but because of You, we were able to choose the right path and commit to doing things the right way, which is Your way. Now I want to help him through whatever lies ahead for him. Please help me do that. In Your name I pray. Amen.

  Sebastian leaned his head on my shoulder. “The election is next week. I’m still behind the two Democratic front-runners in the polls, so I probably won’t win. It’s a long shot, I know. Maybe that just sounds crazy.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” I assured him. “You’re the best candidate, and Georgia needs you.” I rubbed his cheek with the hand that wasn’t holding his. “Besides, with God all things are possible.”

  “Yeah, I know,” he said, giving me a half smile. “But my dad has always wanted to become the first black president. I hope I haven’t ruined his chances.”

  “Shhh,” I said, lifting his chin. I kissed him gently on the lips. “If it’s God’s will, it will happen. The Lord doesn’t want us to worry about tomorrow. We got through today victoriously. Let’s just relax while we can and rest in the knowledge that God can do anything. Except fail.”

  Sebastian lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it. “Thanks for seeing me through this.”

  “You’re welcome. Now let’s get some sleep.” He rested his head on my shoulder and within minutes started snoring quietly. I drifted off to sleep, believing that nothing bad could come to Sebastian and me that we couldn’t work out. With the help of our Lord, of course.

  When the plane landed in Atlanta, reporters were waiting for us at the gate.

  “How did they find out when we were arriving?” Sebastian whispered.

  I shrugged, gritting my teeth in disgust, wondering whether they were for me or against me.

  Sebastian grabbed my hand and we briskly started walking away from the reporters before they spotted us.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “To my parents’. I need to talk to my dad.”

  “Why don’t you take me to your sister’s place first,” I suggested.

  “I want you with me. This whole thing involves you, and he needs to apologize.”

  “I’ll feel uncomfortable. Plus, an apology isn’t necessary,” I assured him.

  “Yes, it is.” Determination set his face like stone. “We just got back in town, and his campaign workers have already started calling me. I need to see him face-to-face.”

  “Sebastian, I know that you want to clear the air with your father, but I think it’s too soon. I would love for the two of you to discuss the situation and mend whatever damage has been done to your relationship, but please give him a few days to digest the information.
”

  “I understand that you care about me and my relationship with my father, but this is something that I need to do now with you by my side.”

  As we walked past a magazine stand, I saw our picture on the front page of the Atlanta Journal-Constitution. One side had a picture of Sebastian and me hugging at my courtroom trial. Beside that shot was a photo of Reverend Stokes, looking like his life was over. The headline read, SON CHOOSES FLESH OVER BLOOD. I pointed it out to Sebastian. “That explains why those reporters were waiting for us at the gate when we arrived.”

  When we pulled into his parents’ driveway, I suddenly felt cold all over. My hands started trembling. With everything I’d been through, I should have been able to handle this, but I simply couldn’t calm down.

  Sebastian grabbed my hands and gave me a kiss. “It’s gonna be okay.” He helped me out of the car and walked me to the front door of the mansion.

  A housekeeper I’d never seen opened the door before Sebastian had a chance to knock. She frowned at him, and turned her nose up at me.

  “Sadie, I missed you,” he said to the gray-haired black woman who looked to be in her sixties. “How are you feeling?”

  She smiled at him slightly, seemingly happy that he cared. “The cancer is in remission. I needed to get back to work. Almost a year off from this family, and you all have torn each other apart.”

  She looked at him with disapproval. Though I was sorry she’d been ill, I was almost sure I wasn’t her favorite person. Being at the Stokes mansion had been hard enough, taking the mean stares from his mother. Two women hatin’ on me would have been too much to bear.

  “Don’t give me that look,” he said, kissing her on the cheek.

  “I hope she’s worth it,” the housekeeper said with a sly smile. “Your momma’s been fillin’ me in.”

  “Sadie,” Sebastian said with a grin, “she’s worth it and then some.”

  “Your father is in the library and your mother isn’t here,” she informed us.

  As we entered the room, Reverend Stokes was sitting at his desk, reading a legal document. When he saw us, he glared.

  “How could you do this to me?” Stokes bellowed, slapping the desk.

  “That’s what I came here to ask you.”

  Reverend Stokes stood and started pacing around the room. “Why didn’t you destroy that tape of our conversation once things escalated?” he yelled. “You’ve probably ruined me.

  “We could have made it to the White House,” Reverend Stokes continued ranting. “I was at the top of the polls as of last week. Then you had to go and do this. If my own son calls me a liar, how is the rest of the country supposed to believe me?”

  “I asked you to come clean, Dad,” Sebastian said, “but you refused.”

  “After I won the election, I was planning to have her cleared.”

  “You never mentioned that to me,” Sebastian said. “Dad, if you have to destroy someone else in order to achieve your goals, there’s no point in pursuing them. If the only way to get the presidency is to throw your morals out the window—”

  “I could have won,” Reverend Stokes moaned. “I could have won.”

  “You still might, if people vote for what you’ve accomplished and what you want to do for this country.”

  “I’m doomed,” Stokes said, looking at his son with disgust.

  I grabbed Sebastian’s arm and tugged him toward the door. He hesitated.

  “Come on,” I said softly. “Talking isn’t doing any good.”

  Father and son stood there for a few minutes, staring each other down. Then Sebastian turned and left the room, his shoulders slumped. I shot Stokes a withering look, then followed my man out of the house.

  As we drove to Savannah’s apartment, Sebastian didn’t say anything. He just stared at the road.

  When we got there, she wasn’t home. We found a note on the fridge, though. “Chris,” it said, “help yourself to anything. I’ll see you sometime tomorrow.”

  I was kind of glad she wasn’t there. Sebastian needed to let out what was pent-up inside him. I grabbed his hand and started praying aloud in the kitchen.

  “Heavenly Father,” I said, “we’re so sorry if anything we’ve done in this situation with Reverend Stokes was wrong. It seems the relationship between a father and son has been irreversibly broken. Your Word says that You will come through for us when we need You. And we really need You to help us out right now. Please be with Sebastian’s parents. Only You can work this out. Sebastian and his dad both need to be at their best right now. Amen.”

  We opened our eyes and I held him in my arms. As we embraced, I knew God was going to work all this out for the good. So I rested my head on Sebastian’s chest and enjoyed the moment.

  On Halloween night, I dressed up as Tina Turner. I wore a leather skirt and ankle boots that laced up in the front. For a finishing touch, I wore a large afro wig.

  When Sebastian came to his sister’s house to pick me up, his mouth dropped open. After he finally composed himself, he placed a corsage on my wrist, then kissed me sweetly on my cheek. “You look ravishing!”

  “You don’t look too bad yourself, handsome,” I said, admiring his black tux, 1800s-style.

  “Just think,” I said. “Our ancestors were slaves during the time these outfits were popular. But tonight we’re going to party with white folks, eat what they eat, use the same rest rooms. You’ll even be giving a candidate’s speech. Black people sure have come a long way. Our great-great-grandmothers would be proud, don’t you think?”

  “I know they would be.” Sebastian stroked my cheek with the back of his hand.

  “I could just stay here all night with you.”

  “That would get us into a lot of trouble,” he teased.

  “You’re right. We’d better get going.”

  As we opened the door, Savannah walked in with a handsome, muscular young guy, light-skinned like the Stokes family. This must be the destitute boyfriend Mrs. Stokes doesn’t approve of.

  Sebastian introduced me to Bruce, referring to me as “the love of my life.” My heart melted.

  “You guys look so cute,” Savannah said. “I’ve got to get my camera.”

  Bruce watched Savannah leave the room with a fondness in his eyes that no money could ever buy.

  Savannah came back and snapped a couple of pictures of us. I felt like I was going to my senior prom.

  “What are you two planning to do tonight?” Sebastian asked.

  “Just stay home, answer the door for trick-or-treaters, and watch TV,” Savannah answered.

  “Well, don’t have too much fun,” her big brother said with a grin. Then we hopped into his car.

  “Will there be a lot of reporters there?” I asked as Sebastian drove down the road.

  “I expect so,” he said with a glum face.

  After the valet took the car, we walked toward the entrance of the building. Several reporters took pictures of us.

  The ballroom had red-brick walls and old wooden beams. The lighting was dim and the decorations gaily spooky. People mingled at the bar, danced, and sat at long, rectangular tables.

  Sebastian guided me to our table near the stage. I was told by a sweet lady sitting next to me that we would be eating a buffet-style breakfast at midnight. Since it was early evening, I nibbled on the snacks in front of me.

  From the moment we were seated, people came up to Sebastian to say hello and discuss politics.

  The governor of Georgia complimented me on how lovely I looked. Then he asked if he could borrow Sebastian. I nodded gracefully. Sebastian kissed me on the cheek, then headed to the governor’s table.

  I noticed several agents follow the two men discreetly, all camouflaged in Halloween costumes that made them blend in with the crowd. But I could tell they were watching Sebastian like a hawk.

  Actually, when I looked closer, I saw Agent Sawyer. He was now guarding Governor James. He was dressed as a turkey and it fit him so well. He didn’t e
ven acknowledge me. Not that we were ever chummy, but he could have said something. I wondered why he had changed details.

  I then wondered how everyone else was doing. When I was at Sebastian’s house, I didn’t see any agents I knew. My detail unit was on vacation. I really missed my job, though. I couldn’t wait to go back to work. I wanted to saunter up to one of them and say, “If you need a break, come get me.”

  I watched a couple of agents move in closer to the governor. Sebastian saw them, too. His shoulders tightened.

  When Sebastian came back to the table, I asked, “What was that all about?”

  Sebastian gritted his teeth. “The governor asked me to withdraw from the race.”

  “Why would he want you to do that?”

  “He says the scandal with my dad is making me a joke, so I should bow out. All I’d be doing is taking votes away from the two front-runners, he said. The governor said I didn’t have a chance of winning, anyway.”

  “He said that?”

  “Not in so many words. He offered me a job as a cabinet member if I withdraw my candidacy.”

  “What did you tell him?” I asked, practically holding my breath.

  Before he could answer, the event coordinator came to the table and told Sebastian it was time for his speech.

  “Guess you’ll find out when I tell the rest of these people,” he said.

  Sebastian strolled up to the platform, where he was announced and welcomed.

  “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he said calmly, leaning against the podium. “Thank you for inviting me tonight.” He looked out across the crowd of listeners. “Over the course of my candidacy, many people have asked me why I want to be lieutenant governor. I’ve always answered that I want to help the people. My father always taught me that politicians have a huge responsibility to govern and protect the rest of us. And I used to think, I want to be one of those politicians someday. My goal is to make sure that everyone in this great state of Georgia, rich or poor, has the chance to succeed. I want folks to know that the government works for them. If I am elected, I don’t want it to happen because people did me political favors that I had to pay back after I got into office. And I wouldn’t want to try to ruin people to get there.”