Forty-year-old Nikolis McQuaige—called NikkiMac—is a teacher in Trenton, New Jersey, and is smart, quick, and loyal to her friends. She’s also single and struggles to be a good Christian. She thinks of herself as a work in progress, and God has been helping her make improvements in various areas of her life—such as in her choice of men.
But men aren’t the only thing on NikkiMac’s mind. There’s her best friend, Jacee, and a new friend, Anna Maria. There’s her friend Cletus, who’s trying hard to stay on the wagon and do right by the twins he finds out are his biological children. And then there’s Sister Chloe, a new member of the church, who is cool—almost downright rude—to NikkiMac for reasons NikkiMac can’t fathom. She even finds time to think of the new, eligible assistant preacher named Adam Greene.
By turns humorous and poignant, Beyond Church Doors invites us into NikkiMac’s world of urban grittiness and sass, where being a Christian means asking forgiveness when her anger at another woman leads to near tragedy. It means not giving up on asking friends to church. It means being willing to don a bright orange lifeguard outfit and whistle to stand by the baptistery so that a churchgoer, terrified of drowning, can let herself be baptized. NikkiMac doesn’t practice Sunday-morning-only Christianity, but lives her faith in the community 24-7 with a refreshing candor.
“Author Sylvia Brown-Roberts … reunites us with her vivid characters as they seek to translate their faith into Godly behavior. … An inspirational novel.”
—Dr. Michael A. Brown, author of In Search of the Narrow Way
Beyond Church Doors
A NOVELBy Sylvia Brown-RobertsiUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2013 Sylvia Brown-Roberts
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4759-6871-2Contents
Introduction.........................................................ixChapter 1 Is It Just My Imagination?.................................1Chapter 2 New Converts Reception.....................................6Chapter 3 Cletus and NikkiMac Go Downtown............................14Chapter 4 Teenager Shaylonda's Crisis................................20Chapter 5 Tasha Pace Knows How To Deface.............................27Chapter 6 NikkiMac's Confession......................................31Chapter 7 Church Folks Behaving Badly................................37Chapter 8 Assistant Minister Adam Greene.............................43Chapter 9 The Sisters Meet...........................................48Chapter 10 Out Of Our Seats and Into The Streets.....................53Chapter 11 NikkiMac's Church Guest...................................58Chapter 12 Cletus and Angeleese......................................64Chapter 13 Sunday Morning............................................69Chapter 14 Brother Oswald Stone......................................74Chapter 15 A Date With a Preacher....................................83Chapter 16 Wedge.....................................................90Chapter 17 Brother Stone Strikes Again...............................95Chapter 18 Love Is In The Air........................................99Chapter 19 Sister Chloe Comes Clean..................................104Chapter 20 Lunch With Anna Maria DelGrosso...........................107Chapter 21 Remembrances, Goodbyes, Mistakes..........................111Chapter 22 Lucy Bergamot's Place.....................................115Chapter 23 That Young Preacher.......................................120Chapter 24 At The Gym................................................125Chapter 25 Welcome Home..............................................130Chapter 26 Church Picnic.............................................133
Chapter One
Is It Just My Imagination?
What's wrong with me? Why can't I fall asleep tonight? I hate it when this happens! I climbed into my queen-sized bed at 10:00, and now the red digital numbers on my bedside clock shout that it's almost 11:15. I've prepared for sleep. I've tried all my favorite slumber positions, but none of them have worked their magic. Covers on, covers off, I've done that routine. My feet have even searched for the cool spots in my bed, a trick that usually works to start my dream journey. Except for slivers of the streetlight's glow that slip through the miniblinds, my bedroom is dark. The room temperature is just right. I've said my prayers. Wait, here it comes. My eyelids begin to shut down; the sense of drifting is finally here.
In my dream, I smell frankincense. I see myself in my bed. The dark figure of a man sits on the side of my bed, and he looks down at me. I feel his warm, strong hands. They make a steady rhythm, a kneading rhythm. This is not a sexual touch; it's soothing. His hands rub my neck and shoulders, my outer arms, and travel down to my lower back. The hands stop there. Then, the pattern repeats: neck, shoulders, arms, and lower back. I'm not afraid. I feel protected. I hear his whispery voice say, "Everything's gonna be alright, Nikolis. It's okay, Baby Girl. Sleep. Sleep on. I've got you."
Initially, there is peace. Briefly after that, an ominous sense startles me from this dreamy state to consciousness. Suddenly, I sit up! Is that a sound downstairs? Is someone on the staircase? Did I really feel those hands rub my body? Was there actually someone here with me? I rub my eyes and shake my head. My heartbeat bangs in my ears. One minute, I'm in a soothing dream. The next minute, I'm scared that an intruder is in my house! I grab my baseball bat from under the bed and race downstairs, all the while praying, "Lord, please help me. Please protect me!" I turn on the lights and check the front door. It's locked, and so are the living room and dining room windows. Everything looks okay so far. My feet carry me quickly to the kitchen and the back door. Things in here seem normal. The door still appears locked like when I checked it before bed, but my hands jiggle the handle anyway. The door opens! I know I locked this back door! I'm anal about locking my windows and doors before turning in for the night. My brain scrambles while my fingers lock the door and my eyes peek through its small windowpane. My eyes scan the back yard and the fence. No one is in my yard, but I think I see a shadow moving on the other side of my back fence. Yes, there's a figure moving down the alley between Poplar Street and Hart Avenue.
Once more, I smell frankincense, like in my dream earlier. I sniff my right shoulder. The aroma is on me, but I didn't put any of the fragrant oil on my body before bed. Was someone in my home? Was someone in my bedroom touching me? Maybe I wasn't dreaming after all.
I turn on all the lights on the first floor and sit in the chair nearest the front door, armed with my bat and now a kitchen knife. My first thought is to call my best friend, Jacee, but why wake her up at this time of night? She's alone at her place just like I'm alone here. Rational thinking returns and I call 911, and pace while I wait for the Trenton police to arrive.
Within a few minutes, they show up. I peek through the window while they park their black and white cruiser, get out, and walk up my front steps. When I open the door, it makes me feel good to recognize one of the two men. It's Brother Sampson, a member of the church and a Trenton police officer.
"Sister NikkiMac, what's up? We got a call about a possible intruder here. Are you okay?" I'm so relieved to see him that I almost hug him, but respect his official capacity and shake his hand instead. He's over six feet tall and carries at least two hundred seventy-five pounds on his thick frame. He has a sense of humor, but he doesn't take any mess from folks. He's a hard worker at church and he commands respect in his job. His expression is filled with concern for me.
"Brother Sampson, I'm so glad to see you!" He introduces me to his partner, Officer Suarez, and they come inside to listen to my account, but I omit the part about my dream. I'm not sure why I keep that part from them, though. I tell them about the noise I heard and the dark figure I saw. They check outside, even in the alley. Brother Sampson returns and observes me with a look of care.
"Sister NikkiMac, did you see any signs of forcible entry?"
"No. I believe I locked the back door before I went to bed, but when I got up to check on the noise, the door was closed, but it was unlocked."
Brother Sampson frowns ever so slightly and says, "Is that right? Sister NikkiMac, do you mind if we search inside your house?"
"No, I don't mind. Please do a search." All of a sudden, my knees get wobbly. Brother Sampson notices, and he gently helps me to the sofa. The officers search inside the house, open closet doors, and go through the basement. My attic is only a crawl space, but Officer Suarez scoots up there and checks it out. As they look around outside the house again, the beams from their flashlights pierce through the darkness. The officers return to the house and ask me more questions.
"Sister NikkiMac, does anyone else have a key to your back door? A relative, maybe?"
I turn my head from side to side while I answer Officer Sampson, "No."
"An angry boyfriend, perhaps?" Officer Suarez...
