Read Online When the Fairytale Ends by Dwan Abrams - Free Book Online
Authors: Dwan Abrams
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her uncovered thigh, and she moaned his name in her sleep and turned toward him. For half a second, he considered waking her up for an energy boost to start his day off right, but he decided against it. Yesterday had been long, and he was sure that she would spend all day in the kitchen, rushing to make up for lost time.
The wedding was only six days away, so she had her work cut out for her. As much as he enjoyed morning sex, he allowed his sleeping beauty to get a few more minutes of rest before she got up and started to get ready for Sunday morning service.
He leaned against the headboard, not ready just yet to shed the blanket of tranquility that the bed offered. Mentally, he did a quick run-through of the notes that heâd speak on during todayâs youth serviceâdepression. It always surprised him how much his students went through during each week. Sometimes it was a breakup with a boyfriend or girlfriend, or grades plummeting in school, failed exams, dealing with bullying or peer pressure, and dealing with broken homes and absent, distant, or inadequate parents. Adults oftentimes failed to realize that even though the youth didnât have to deal with major bills, job stress, or marital problems, they still had a wealth of issues to trudge through. Greg could only hope that the words of encouragement that he filled them up with every Sunday morning was enough to carry them and guide them throughout the week, and throughout their lives.
A glance at the clock told him he needed to get out of bed and put some pep in his step. He was never late to work, so he didnât need to be late to Godâs house either. He hurried up and showered and shaved. When he finished getting dressed, he wrote a note to Shania telling her that it was his turn to be in charge of the youth services and that heâd see her at the 11:30 A.M. service.
After placing the note on his pillow, he kissed her cheek, and she didnât even stir. So he left the room without making a sound and went into the garage, where his convertible Mercedes and motorcycle were parked. He eyed Halle, itching to ride her, but he dismissed the urge and unlocked his Mercedes instead. He didnât feel like answering a bunch of questions about his new purchase, or having the kids harass him about giving them a ride when they knew full well that wasnât going to happen. The elders and mothers of the church would probably disbar his membership if he pulled up on church ground wearing a Sunday suit on the back of a motorcycle.
As soon as he walked through the doors of Saved and Sanctified Baptist Church, the few young people that were in the main sanctuary ran up to him and greeted him with hugs, daps, and high fives.
âWhat are you all doing in here?â he asked them after greeting each one in turn. âShouldnât you be in the youth department?â
âWeâre headed that way,â the oldest of the crew, a freckle-faced kid, said. âWe just wanted to say hey to Pastor Ray first.â
âOkay then. Just make sure youâre in your seats by 9:30 A.M.
âYes, sir, Minister Crinkle,â they said in unison.
Greg smiled at them and tousled a few heads and patted a few shoulders as the youth left out the main doors in the direction of the youth department. Greg scouted the sanctuary for Franklin, but he wasnât there yet, which was expected. On a good day for him, he usually didnât show up at church until the praise team had reached their second or third song. On a bad day, he got there seconds before the pastor had asked everyone to stand so he could give the benediction.
Greg saw his pastor speaking with one of the deacons, and he waited patiently until they finished before he walked over to his pastor and gave him a manly hug. Pastor Ray asked him how he was doing and inquired about Shania, to which Greg admitted that she was a bit tired, but sheâd be there for Sunday morning service.
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The wedding was only six days away, so she had her work cut out for her. As much as he enjoyed morning sex, he allowed his sleeping beauty to get a few more minutes of rest before she got up and started to get ready for Sunday morning service.
He leaned against the headboard, not ready just yet to shed the blanket of tranquility that the bed offered. Mentally, he did a quick run-through of the notes that heâd speak on during todayâs youth serviceâdepression. It always surprised him how much his students went through during each week. Sometimes it was a breakup with a boyfriend or girlfriend, or grades plummeting in school, failed exams, dealing with bullying or peer pressure, and dealing with broken homes and absent, distant, or inadequate parents. Adults oftentimes failed to realize that even though the youth didnât have to deal with major bills, job stress, or marital problems, they still had a wealth of issues to trudge through. Greg could only hope that the words of encouragement that he filled them up with every Sunday morning was enough to carry them and guide them throughout the week, and throughout their lives.
A glance at the clock told him he needed to get out of bed and put some pep in his step. He was never late to work, so he didnât need to be late to Godâs house either. He hurried up and showered and shaved. When he finished getting dressed, he wrote a note to Shania telling her that it was his turn to be in charge of the youth services and that heâd see her at the 11:30 A.M. service.
After placing the note on his pillow, he kissed her cheek, and she didnât even stir. So he left the room without making a sound and went into the garage, where his convertible Mercedes and motorcycle were parked. He eyed Halle, itching to ride her, but he dismissed the urge and unlocked his Mercedes instead. He didnât feel like answering a bunch of questions about his new purchase, or having the kids harass him about giving them a ride when they knew full well that wasnât going to happen. The elders and mothers of the church would probably disbar his membership if he pulled up on church ground wearing a Sunday suit on the back of a motorcycle.
As soon as he walked through the doors of Saved and Sanctified Baptist Church, the few young people that were in the main sanctuary ran up to him and greeted him with hugs, daps, and high fives.
âWhat are you all doing in here?â he asked them after greeting each one in turn. âShouldnât you be in the youth department?â
âWeâre headed that way,â the oldest of the crew, a freckle-faced kid, said. âWe just wanted to say hey to Pastor Ray first.â
âOkay then. Just make sure youâre in your seats by 9:30 A.M.
âYes, sir, Minister Crinkle,â they said in unison.
Greg smiled at them and tousled a few heads and patted a few shoulders as the youth left out the main doors in the direction of the youth department. Greg scouted the sanctuary for Franklin, but he wasnât there yet, which was expected. On a good day for him, he usually didnât show up at church until the praise team had reached their second or third song. On a bad day, he got there seconds before the pastor had asked everyone to stand so he could give the benediction.
Greg saw his pastor speaking with one of the deacons, and he waited patiently until they finished before he walked over to his pastor and gave him a manly hug. Pastor Ray asked him how he was doing and inquired about Shania, to which Greg admitted that she was a bit tired, but sheâd be there for Sunday morning service.
As
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