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Authors: Robert Whitlow
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The woman who started the impromptu prayer meeting stepped forward and gave Tom a big hug.
“We came here for one reason, but the Lord had something else in mind!” she exclaimed. “Thank you for letting us pray with you.”
“I didn’t hear you ask his permission, Sister Tamara,” Brother England said drily. “Let me know if we can be of service to you.”
“Uh, I’ll keep that in mind,” Tom replied. “And I hope you find someone to help with the family dispute.”
Pastor England turned to the oldest man in the group.
“Brother Stevens, maybe the Lord is telling us to take what we learned from Brother Crane and care for the sheep ourselves.”
“I’ll speak to the family about it.”
As soon as the group left and the door closed, Tom sat down in one of the reception room chairs.
“That was different,” he said.
“They turned the office into a church, didn’t they?” Bernice said.
“Church? I thought it was rude.”
Bernice cleared her throat, adjusted her glasses, and turned her attention back to her typewriter. The rest of the morning passed without interruption. Tom organized half the files in one box, dictated several letters to clients, and prepared three motions to withdraw in pending court cases. Bernice brought him a document to review and sign.
“If I brought in my computer, I could type this stuff myself,” he said.
“Are you saying you don’t need me?” Bernice asked, a wounded expression on her face.
“No, no. You proved your worth today with Randall Freiburger and the Ebenezer Church crowd. If you’d not been here when the religious folks walked in, I’d still be trying to figure out what they wanted. Don’t take it wrong when I bring my laptop. I’ll mostly use it to organize the financial records.”
“Oh.” Bernice winced. “That’s the area where your daddy and I struggled the most.”
“Did you balance the checkbook?”
“Most months,” Bernice said hopefully. “And the bookkeeper reconciled things the best she could when she prepared your father’s tax return.”
“What about the trust account?”
“Your daddy took care of that himself. It’s in the bottom right-hand drawer of the desk.”
______
Shortly before noon, Bernice came to the door of the office. “If it’s okay, I’ll be on my way.”
“Could you stay a few more minutes?” Tom asked. “I have something personal to tell you.”
Bernice sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk and listened as Tom told her about losing his job. Partway through the story, she started to cry and grabbed a handful of tissues from a box on one of the bookshelves. She blew her nose. Tom paused. He’d not been trying to stir up emotion.
“Do you want me to stop? I wasn’t trying to upset you.”
“No, it just breaks my heart to think about you being treated so badly.”
Bernice’s empathy was an ingrained characteristic. She always saw the people who walked through the front door of the office as hurting people first, clients in need of legal services second.
“Once we’re finished shutting down the office, I’ll go back to Atlanta and start looking for a job. I have to pay the rent on my apartment, the lease for the BMW parked out front, and a couple of credit cards with balances that have crept up too high.”
Bernice wiped her eyes and blew her nose.
“And after I’m gone, you should take a vacation,” Tom concluded.
“I’ve already planned one to North Carolina. We’ve never been to Kitty Hawk.”
“You’ll like it. The Outer Banks is a special place, and there’s decent surfing near the Hatteras Lighthouse.”
“I don’t think Carl and I will do much surfing.” Bernice managed a smile.
“Thanks for all your help,” Tom replied, standing up. “Not just to me but for all the years you served my father. He couldn’t have done it without you.”
Bernice grabbed another tissue from the box on the desk and left.
chapter
SIX
T om walked up a slight incline to the
“We came here for one reason, but the Lord had something else in mind!” she exclaimed. “Thank you for letting us pray with you.”
“I didn’t hear you ask his permission, Sister Tamara,” Brother England said drily. “Let me know if we can be of service to you.”
“Uh, I’ll keep that in mind,” Tom replied. “And I hope you find someone to help with the family dispute.”
Pastor England turned to the oldest man in the group.
“Brother Stevens, maybe the Lord is telling us to take what we learned from Brother Crane and care for the sheep ourselves.”
“I’ll speak to the family about it.”
As soon as the group left and the door closed, Tom sat down in one of the reception room chairs.
“That was different,” he said.
“They turned the office into a church, didn’t they?” Bernice said.
“Church? I thought it was rude.”
Bernice cleared her throat, adjusted her glasses, and turned her attention back to her typewriter. The rest of the morning passed without interruption. Tom organized half the files in one box, dictated several letters to clients, and prepared three motions to withdraw in pending court cases. Bernice brought him a document to review and sign.
“If I brought in my computer, I could type this stuff myself,” he said.
“Are you saying you don’t need me?” Bernice asked, a wounded expression on her face.
“No, no. You proved your worth today with Randall Freiburger and the Ebenezer Church crowd. If you’d not been here when the religious folks walked in, I’d still be trying to figure out what they wanted. Don’t take it wrong when I bring my laptop. I’ll mostly use it to organize the financial records.”
“Oh.” Bernice winced. “That’s the area where your daddy and I struggled the most.”
“Did you balance the checkbook?”
“Most months,” Bernice said hopefully. “And the bookkeeper reconciled things the best she could when she prepared your father’s tax return.”
“What about the trust account?”
“Your daddy took care of that himself. It’s in the bottom right-hand drawer of the desk.”
______
Shortly before noon, Bernice came to the door of the office. “If it’s okay, I’ll be on my way.”
“Could you stay a few more minutes?” Tom asked. “I have something personal to tell you.”
Bernice sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk and listened as Tom told her about losing his job. Partway through the story, she started to cry and grabbed a handful of tissues from a box on one of the bookshelves. She blew her nose. Tom paused. He’d not been trying to stir up emotion.
“Do you want me to stop? I wasn’t trying to upset you.”
“No, it just breaks my heart to think about you being treated so badly.”
Bernice’s empathy was an ingrained characteristic. She always saw the people who walked through the front door of the office as hurting people first, clients in need of legal services second.
“Once we’re finished shutting down the office, I’ll go back to Atlanta and start looking for a job. I have to pay the rent on my apartment, the lease for the BMW parked out front, and a couple of credit cards with balances that have crept up too high.”
Bernice wiped her eyes and blew her nose.
“And after I’m gone, you should take a vacation,” Tom concluded.
“I’ve already planned one to North Carolina. We’ve never been to Kitty Hawk.”
“You’ll like it. The Outer Banks is a special place, and there’s decent surfing near the Hatteras Lighthouse.”
“I don’t think Carl and I will do much surfing.” Bernice managed a smile.
“Thanks for all your help,” Tom replied, standing up. “Not just to me but for all the years you served my father. He couldn’t have done it without you.”
Bernice grabbed another tissue from the box on the desk and left.
chapter
SIX
T om walked up a slight incline to the
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