Hidden Riches

Hidden Riches by Felicia Mason Read Free Book Online

Book: Hidden Riches by Felicia Mason Read Free Book Online
Authors: Felicia Mason
comment to Clayton and was astonished to see his longtime partner swaying in his seat, his eyes closed and his face contorted.
    Over the next hour, there was more singing, a lot of praying, a reading of the obituary—though anybody who could read had already done so since it was printed in the funeral program—and condolence messages from seemingly every church official, elected official, and civic group in all of North Carolina.
    â€œWe’ve been here two hours, and they still haven’t gotten to the eulogy,” Archer whispered.
    â€œShh,” Clayton said. “Welcome to a black funeral in the South.”
    â€œOh, my God,” Archer moaned, as he rubbed his temples.
    Finally, the Reverend Toussaint le Baptiste rose and came forward in the pulpit.
    â€œBrothers and sisters, we are gathered here this afternoon to say our final earthly farewell to our beloved sister in Christ, Sister Ana Mae Futrell. I’m not going to be before you long . . .”
    â€œThank God for that,” Archer muttered.
    The comment earned him a jab in the arm from JoJo and a pinch from Clayton.
    â€œ. . . but before I begin, I think it’s only fitting that anyone who wants to say a word about Sister Ana Mae have the opportunity to do so.”
    â€œOh. My. God.”
    â€œShh!”
    â€œNow I know this isn’t on the program, but I don’t think Sister Futrell or the family will mind.” He looked at Delcine, who shook her head. A rousing round of “Amens” rolled through the deacons’ area, and the organist played softly as people rose across the sanctuary and lined up for a turn to sing Ana Mae’s praises.
    A bald-headed deacon with pop-bottle glasses passed a hand-held microphone over, and the first of about twenty people in line testified about the sweetness of Ana Mae’s spirit, the time she cooked dinner for my family when I was laid up by sickness, the quilt she made me, the Sunday school lesson she taught us.
    Bringing up the rear was a pudgy white man in his late fifties or early sixties. He resembled the actor Tom Bosley and cleared his throat twice when he took the microphone.
    â€œGood afternoon. My name is David Bell, and I wasn’t going to come forward,” he began, his voice starting to quiver.
    A gasp from the second pew had a few heads turning.
    â€œBut when I heard that Ana Mae was gone, I just . . . ,” He started crying.
    â€œTake your time, brother. Take your time.”
    David Bell pulled a monogrammed handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his eyes, then his brow.
    â€œI’m sorry about the display of emotion,” he said, “but Ana Mae, she just meant the world to me. I’ve listened to everyone else say what a good woman she was, and I, I have to agree. We, we’ve known each other a long time and whenever she came to visit . . .” He sniffed again, and again he got encouragement from the mostly black congregation to take his time.
    â€œWhenever she came to visit, we’d talk for hours, just hours. She loved this town and all of you,” he said. “And I, well, I loved her.”
    He broke down crying again as the congregants applauded his testimonial.
    Delcine leaned forward and across her husband to tap Clayton’s knee. “Howard’s father?” she mouthed.
    Clayton shrugged and looked down at JoJo, who was also intensely studying David Bell.
    So was Rosalee in the pew behind them, and Reverend Toussaint in the pulpit, and all of the folks who’d spent the last few days wondering about Ana Mae’s mystery son.
    David Bell was clearly torn up, and he’d intimated that he and Ana Mae spent a lot of time together. Could that have been time between the sheets?
    Bell handed the microphone to a deacon and made his way around the flowers and over to the front pew where the family sat. He reached in his suit jacket pocket and pulled out something.
    â€œIf there is ever anything I

Similar Books

At Long Last

N.R. DeRaj

Gold Dragon Codex

R.D. Henham

The Ghosts of Aquinnah

Julie Flanders

Book Clubbed

Lorna Barrett

Urden, God of Desire

Anastasia Rabiyah

Courtly Love

Lynn M. Bartlett