The Deal, the Dance, and the Devil by Victoria Christopher Murray Page B

homeless shelter thatfed and clothed many in the neighborhood, to the political meetings Bishop Cash sponsored for politicians to answer to his congregation, to setting up the church as a cooling center in the summers for those who couldn’t afford air-conditioning, Cash and Brooklyn were all about the people.
    “What’s up?” Brooklyn asked, breaking into my thoughts.
    I sighed as I rolled through the streets of D.C., heading toward the church.
    “Uh-oh,” Brooklyn said. Our thirty-year friendship was the reason my sigh said more to my friend than any words could. “It’s not Ms. Ruby, is it?”
    “No; right about now, my mother-in-love is doing one hundred times better than I am.”
    She was waiting for me to say more, and when I didn’t, it was Brooklyn’s turn to sigh. “Are you gonna tell me what’s going on, or am I gonna have to beg for an hour to get it out of you?”
    “Well, I’m on my way over there.”
    “Okay, but if you need me to start listening now, I’m ready,” she said. “It’s up to you.”
    The pressure, the stress, these fights with Adam were gurgling inside me. I was fifteen minutes from the church, but I needed to vent … now.
    Since Brooklyn already knew about Adam’s job, I started from there and told her the rest. She was pretty much silent on the other end, releasing only one “Umph” when I got to the part about all our savings being gone.
    By the time my soliloquy was over, Brooklyn knew the whole truth and I was parked in front of the church. To finish up, I said, “Now, my husband, Adam Langston, the stand-up, all-American citizen, has just written a check that’s gonna bounce all the way to Detroit.” I stepped from the car, eager to see my friend and hear what she had to say.
    Her first words were, “Oh, no. Not Detroit! Do they still have banks there?”
    I froze, stopping halfway between my car and the front door of the church. I’d just laid out my heart and my life, and Brooklyn thought this was a joke? “This isn’t funny,” I snapped, doing an about-face and sliding right back into my car.
    “I know, honey,” Brooklyn said so sincerely that I felt bad for jumping on her like that. But still I stayed behind the wheel of the Kia. She said, “I was trying to lighten it up a bit, ’cause it sure got heavy.” Now serious, she said, “So if Adam gets this job with American Express, none of this will be an issue, right?”
    “In this economy, with the number of people looking for work, what do you think his chances are?”
    “I don’t know. But you have to have some hope to hold on to, right?”
    “Hope doesn’t pay the bills.”
    “Okay …” Then, when Brooklyn paused, I knew what was coming. I clenched my teeth and aimed the key for the ignition, because if she said it, I was out of there.
    “Then I guess that just leaves Shay-Shaunté’s offer.”
    I revved up the engine and screamed at the same time, hoping I’d busted one of her eardrums. “I already told you … that is not an option.”
    “If you’re talking about hope, five million dollars can buy you a lot of that,” she persisted. “I take it that you still haven’t said a word to Adam.”
    “Why do you keep harping on this?” I took a deep breath and spoke slowly. “I’m not telling Adam, okay?”
    Brooklyn was quiet, as if she was studying my words. “I’m not saying do it; I’m saying give Adam a chance to help you decide.”
    Okay, Brooklyn was my girl, but this chick wasn’t getting it.So, since I was tired of repeating myself, I didn’t say anything; I just edged my car away from the church.
    “What are you afraid of, Evia?”
    “I’m not afraid of a daggone thing!” Then I wondered, why didn’t I want to tell Adam? I mean, he would agree with me totally … right?
    The church was in my rearview mirror when I said, “Listen, Brooklyn, I’ll talk to you later.”
    “I thought you were on your way.”
    “I was.”
    “Evia, I know you don’t want to