Wearing My Halo Tilted by Stephanie Perry Moore Page A

when I got back to my hotel room, I noticed that I had eight messages. I reluctantly played them back and heard my husband’s angry voice screaming into the receiver. I had to call Dillon.
    â€œWhat’s going on with you, Shari, out with other men and stuff? You hung up on me, turning off your phone so I couldn’t get you back. I mean what are you doing? Are you throwing the towel in on our marriage? Is it over? If so, you need to tell me so I can move on too.”
    â€œI can sense you’re angry.”
    â€œOh, you don’t think I have reason to be?”
    Now I knew why I hadn’t talked to my husband in a while. Sure, maybe he had cause to be mad at me. And as he kept lashing out at me, telling me what a horrible wife, mother, and person I was, it wasn’t racking him any brownie points with me.
    I didn’t wanna compare him to Bryce, because I barely knew that guy, but it sure was refreshing to just go out and enjoy someone who was in tune with my feelings. I didn’t have to spend the whole evening eating and talking about nothing or hating that I was there in the first place. Byrce even dressed up. My husband hated to put on cosmopolitan clothes. If it wasn’t an athletic look or feel, it had no appeal to him.
    â€œI don’t know what to say. You’re accusing me of doing way more than what was going on. I’m sorry I called you his name. That was unintentional. I was out with a colleague who happened to be at the International Christian Retail Show. Don’t trip, I’ve gone out on business meetings before. It was no biggie. We were simply talking about ways in which we could partner. All I was doing with him was trying to figure out how to improve the showing at the play.”
    Now I was starting to lie to Dillon. We really did have troubles when I could so cavalierly make up something. He wasn’t a saint either though. He’d called my bluff and what he got he got.
    â€œYou need to get off my back a little, ease up. Don’t be so harsh.”
    He fussed more and I just held the phone away. The air cared to listen more than me. I truly was starting to hate him, as we came to no meeting of the minds. And he ended up hanging up on me, so the feeling was probably mutual. I was too exhausted to even pray for our marriage.
    I took a long shower and enjoyed reminiscing about my evening out. I had good company and I had gotten an award. Things were looking up and I was looking forward to more good than bad. I finally felt like I deserved the best and, come what may, the best was coming to me.

    â€œI’m really pleased with how well your book is doing. You’re such a wonderful role model for our young people. You’re doing this publishing company proud,” Mr. Gayley, the vice president and publisher of my book company, said to me during a private meeting before I was to go sign at the Christian African-American Booksellers Association, CAABA, booth.
    I loved getting my time with him. He was such a nice, humble man. I remember when I first sought out a publisher. Not only did my favorite agent in the world turn me down, before I landed with Tina, but I also personally talked to several different publishers. It was no problem getting the meetings. I guess since they didn’t have a slew of African-American women on their author roster, they couldn’t be rude to me. They just found a way to say, No, we’re not interested at this time. The rejections came in the forms of letters, e-mails, and verbal communication; any way they could say no, they found a way to do it.
    Even though Mr. Gayley said no at first, I could really sense he was trying to help make me better. And of the things that he told me to sharpen, like getting a more realistic view of my characters and having a few other plots than the main one I was trying to portray, above all I had to make sure that God was the central character. Once I implemented his suggestions,