Preacher's Wifey (19 page)

“Mrs. Ward,” Angela said, “your card was declined.”

“Excuse me?” I said, smiling. “There must be a mistake. Run it again.”

“I tried three times.”

I took the card from her. “Oh. Okay, try this card.” I handed her my black card. Black cards were never declined.

I looked into the questioning gaze of Mom and Dad—particularly Mom.

“Sometimes the magnetic strip gets deactivated,” I asserted.

“Yeah, that has happened to me before,” Dad said. “I was down in Florida once and—”

“Mrs. Ward,” Angela interrupted, “I am sorry, but this one was also declined. Is there another card you would like for me to try?”

My head was spinning out of control. My hands became a sweaty mess, and the contacts in my eyes were drying out by the second at the embarrassment. I inhaled a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

“I have cash.” I reached into my purse and pulled out the cash needed to pay the check and passed it to her. “I am so sorry for the trouble, Angela. I do not have the slightest idea as to why my cards are being declined.”

“It's no problem. There must be something wrong with our reader.”

I snapped my fingers, as if she had just come up with the perfect explanation. “You are exactly right. That is probably what it is. Well, thank you for your patience.”

“Again, no problem. I will be right back with your change.”

“You know what? Since you have gone through so much trouble . . . keep the change.”

Her smile of gratitude was worth the trouble of my cards declining.

“Are we done here? I need to go and check on my accounts just to make sure,” I said.

“Of course, honey,” my mother replied. “Before we depart, I want to say one final thing. I am sure I can speak for your father when I say in spite of the nature of our conversation today, we enjoyed spending this time with you. I know we cannot eradicate a twenty-year issue with one lunch, but we are hoping this was a start.”

“There are some things about myself that I am working on. I am trying to learn how to live a Christian life, and sometimes I get it right and sometimes I get it wrong. I am not saying that I will not ever get to the place where I can accept you two getting back together. It is just hard for me to embrace right now. Mom, I just do not want to see you hurt again. That is my only reason for protesting this in the first place. In the same manner in which you all have proceeded to go on with your lives and live in total bliss, by all means continue to do so. I will soon get over myself, and maybe we can find a way to create a new normal—together. But this is the best I can do. I cannot pretend I am head over heels about it, but I can tell you that I would be willing try one day.”

Mother smiled, as did Dad. I could see on their faces they had accomplished what they had set out to do.

“That is all we wanted—for you to try to understand why we wanted to be together again. We cannot ask for anything more right now,” my mother noted.

“Good.” I got up from my seat. “I really do have to go now. I will call you guys later, okay?”

“Please call me if you need anything, Ally,” Dad offered.

“I will.”

They rose from their seats also, and they each kissed me on the cheek. My mother went a little further and embraced me. I stood there as frozen as an ice cube, trying to determine if I should hug her back. I could not remember the last time my mother had hugged me for no reason. Hesitantly, I wrapped my arms around her and included a pat on the back for good measure. I definitely had to get used to this motherly love, the lessons, and the concern she was dishing out these days.

We exited the restaurant, got in our cars, and went our separate ways. I grabbed my iPhone and scrolled my contacts until I came across the number to the bank. The first card that had been declined was our bank card. Byran very seldom made large purchases without at least first letting me know, but even beyond that, he would have had to buy a house and a couple of Bentleys for the card to be declined for $68.80.

“Thank you for calling Bank of America. This is Leslie speaking. How may I help you?”

“Yes, I am calling to check the balance on my account, as well as to get the most recent withdrawals and purchases.”

“Okay, I will be glad to assist you today. May I have your account number, please?”

I gave her my account number.

“And will you please verify the last four digits of your Social Security number?”

I gave her that as well.

As I waited for her to pull the account information up, I concluded in my mind that all was well and that a mistake must have been made on the restaurant's end.

“Mrs. Ward?”

“Yes?”

“The balance for the account number you gave me is zero.”

I swerved over into another lane, and a motorist blasted their car horn at me. Did she say zero? I laughed softly, sure that she had misspoken.

“Zero?”

“Yes, ma'am. It says here that a withdrawal in the amount of $823,947.16 was made this morning.”

“Can you also check the other accounts I have? There are two more checking accounts and one savings. I don't have the account number to any, and I don't have a check card either.”

“I need your full Social.”

I gave her my Social and waited for what seemed like the longest five minutes of my life as she looked up the other accounts.

“Ma'am, those accounts have all been emptied out as well.”

“So you are saying I have no money?”

“All the accounts you have with our bank reflect a zero balance.”

I was struggling to breathe as I fumbled trying to let the window down and remain focused on the road. This could not be happening.

“How can someone just walk into a bank and withdraw all of my money?”

“Well, not just anybody can do that, Mrs. Ward. Only authorized people on the account can withdraw funds or make any kinds of changes.”

“What are you saying? Are you suggesting I am not the victim of identity theft, but that someone who was authorized to withdraw the money is responsible?”

“Yes, that is what I am saying. You are definitely not the victim of identity theft, Mrs. Ward. Mr. Ward came into the bank and signed to withdraw all the money from the accounts.”

Byran did this?

I was fuming.

Why would he do this to me?

“How is it that he is authorized to do that without my permission?”

“He is the primary account holder. You were just an authorized user on the accounts. And because he is the primary, he can do what he chooses without your knowledge or cooperation.”

“So are those accounts closed?”

“No, he did not close him.” She paused, but I could tell she wanted to say more. “Listen, I could get in trouble for saying this, but you seem to be taken aback and caught off guard by this. I have been right where you are. My ex-husband did the same thing to me. Mr. Ward did not close the accounts. He withdrew the funds and placed them into another account that he is the sole user on. At any given moment, he can make one phone call and transfer all the funds right back to their respective accounts. I could be wrong, but this looks to be some sort of blackmail tactic. Have you two been fighting lately?”

Was the bank teller getting in my business?

“That is not important. I need to go so I can make some other phone calls. I do appreciate your time and assistance.”

“You are welcome. I apologize if I offended you in any way.”

“No, you are fine. As you can imagine and have already said, I am appalled by this information. I need to go and handle it. But thank you again for your assistance.”

I ended the call and immediately dialed Byran. His phone went directly to voice mail. I tried four more times, to no avail, so I resorted to sending him a text message instructing him to call me ASAP. I knew he would get the text because his phone was glued to him at all times.

My phone ringing startled me. I looked at the number and recognized that it was the spa. I had totally forgotten to call and cancel my appointment.

“Hello?”

“Mrs. Ward, hi. We were just calling because you did not show up for your appointment today. Because you are a weekly client of ours, we are going to wave the fee for no-show and no cancellation. Would you like to reschedule?”

“Can I call you back? I am in the middle of something very important, but I will most definitely give you a call to set a new time.”

“Sounds great. We look forward to hearing back from you.”

I merged onto I-285 and headed toward Cornerstone. My assistant had informed me earlier today that Byran was in the office and would be there until five o'clock. I looked at the time on my phone. It was only shortly after two.

My efforts to not speed failed miserably as I raced through traffic and darted in and out of lanes. Anger was the fuel that pumped the blood through my veins. I was convinced that Byran had completely lost his mind. Within twenty minutes, I drove up to the campus of the church. I saw Byran's Ferrari parked in his designated parking space. I parked in my space next to him and all but ran through the administrative office doors.

Renae, with her worrisome self, happened to be standing at the receptionist desk when I walked in.
Lord, please give me the grace to deal with her today.

“Well, First Lady, it is so good to finally see you back around this place. We were beginning to wonder if you had abandoned our pastor,” she said, looking back at Eula, the receptionist. “We do hope everything is all right. Some of the women of the church have been offering to assist Pastor in any way possible since you have not been here. I also know the deaconesses are pretty upset that you stopped working on the women's conference.”

I put my hand up to stop her from speaking.

“Renae, I got this, okay? Whatever is or is not going on with Pastor and me is our business. But nothing is going on that anyone here in this church should be concerned about. As for all those who are offering help, by all means let them help. Anything their hands find to do, they should do it with all their might.”

I brushed past them, leaving them standing there gazing at me like a deer being blinded by headlights. I went toward the wing where our joint office was located. I plunged into our office suite with the force of an unstoppable train.

Damita jumped up from her desk.

“First Lady, you scared me,” she said, her hands rushing to her chest. “Are you okay? You look as if you could rip someone's head off right now.”

Byran emerged from his part of the office. “She probably wants to rip off mine.” He smiled. “Damita, can you please give us a minute in the suite alone? Block all calls and visitors. Thank you.”

She immediately grabbed a stack of folders, placed the phone on voice-mail mode, picked up her purse, and fled the office.

Byran turned and walked back into his part of the office. “So you ignore my calls, you ban me from my own house, you forsake your duties here at the church, and the only way I can get your attention is to block your access to money.” He shook his head before he turned to face me. “Allyson, Allyson, Allyson. You, my dear, are predictable. I knew if nothing else, money would get your attention. It worked in the beginning, and it still does.”

“How dare you do that without at least telling me?” I demanded.

“Let me guess, you were out somewhere shopping and got embarrassed because your card was declined.”

“No, you are absolutely incorrect. I was eating lunch with my parents, for your information.”

“Your parents? As in both of them?” he said, shocked.

“Yes. There is a lot going on you know nothing about. You are so consumed by yourself, you have no time to think about anyone else. But let us not get off the reason I came here.”

He walked over to his desk and sat down. “Oh, yes, the reason you are here. Have a seat, Allyson.” His tone immediately went businesslike. I sat down, ready to hear this explanation, and all I knew was it had better be a good one. “Do you think you can forfeit your responsibilities to me as my wife and still spend my money? The agreement was for you to fulfill the duties of the contract and you get paid. But when you decided you were going to go against the grain, I had no other choice but to cut you off.

“When you start acting like you have some sense, I will have the money sent back to your accounts. The only thing is I do not trust you anymore. So you are going to have to prove to me that I can trust you again before your access is fully restored. So if you convince me today that you are ready to resume the agreement, I will put a little money in your account. All the bills are paid, and food is in the refrigerator at home, so I figured a couple of hundred dollars per week so you can get little personal items you may need, along with gas for your car, should suffice.

Did he say a couple of hundred dollars? My spa appointment cost that much.

He continued. “You will be the one to determine how long this lasts. Show me better, and I will show you the money.”

My right leg shook violently. Did this man have the nerve to sit in my presence and talk about trust? I scratched my head in confusion.

“So it is fine for you to do whatever you want to do and get away with it, but I do something you consider not right, and I have to suffer for it? Do you know I could go out there right now and reveal this entire ploy?”

He laughed. “What are you going to say?”

“That this entire marriage is a sham. That you married me only so you could become the pastor of this church.”