A Million Blessings. Angela Benson

her mother said, standing in her closet doorway, “this house is entirely too big. Whatever were you and Andrew thinking to get something so extravagant? I almost got lost trying to find you in here.”

      Sandra chuckled. She stood in front of the Michelle Obama rack in her closet, trying to decide what to wear to this afternoon’s garden party. Andrew had invited their higher income members over to discuss the expansion plans. These people gave a lot of money to the ministry and liked to keep up with where it went. She and Andrew didn’t mind obliging them. “It’s not that bad, Mom. If you came out here more often, you’d learn the place fairly quickly.”

      “I doubt it,” Ida said, dropping down on one of the two chaises in the closet. “Whoever heard of a closet with a chaise? This closet is as big as our master bedroom. All these clothes and shoes.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe you bought all of this stuff. You’ll never wear it all.”

      “Which should I wear this afternoon?” she asked her mother, holding up the sleeveless black Michael Kors sheath identical to the one Michelle had worn in her official White House portrait and the blue polka-dotted Lavin Resort.

      “The blue is better for the afternoon,” her mother said, shaking her head. “I like Michelle Obama, too, but you’ve taken it a bit too far.”

      “I like her style, Momma. What more can I say?” She went over to her wall of shoes and pulled down a matching pair of blue Jimmy Choo slides. “I’m First Lady of a growing ministry. I can’t show up looking like a bag lady, especially with the guests we’re having this afternoon. These folks place value on presentation.”

      “I think you’ve gotten too caught up in presentation. There’s a long way from bag lady to designers who serve the First Lady of the United States. Your old clothes were perfectly fine.”

      Her outfit chosen, Sandra settled down on the opposite chaise facing her mother. “Don’t worry about us, Mother. We have the money. We aren’t living beyond our means. We can afford the finer things in life so we’ve bought them. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

      “I know you won a lot of money in the lottery, but I also know you’re spending a lot. You bought the horse farm for us, this estate for yourselves, those luxury cars in the garage, this new wardrobe. You’ve put the boys in a fancy and pricey private school. And I don’t even want to think about the money you’ve put into the church. There has to be a bottom to it, Sandra. You can’t keep spending this way forever. You’ve got to think about the future.”

      Sandra sighed. Her mother was a worrywart. “You’re thinking the way I used to think when I’d look at Pastor and Vickie McCorry. They seemed to have so much more than the rest of us. But that’s not the way it is at Showers of Blessings. We have members who have as much as we do and members who have more. More important, we share with those who have less.”

      “Still,” her mother said. “You have to be careful with your money.”

      Sandra gave her mother an indulgent smile as she got up to pick out the jewelry she would wear tonight. “We’re careful, Mom. And we’ve planned for the future. We have trusts for the boys and for you and Dad. And the horse farm is yours free and clear. Don’t worry so much. Just enjoy. That’s what Andrew and I want.”

      “The farm is not ours free and clear,” her mother said.

      Sandra turned away from her jewelry safe to look at her mother. “What did you say?”

      Her mother held her gaze. “I said we don’t own the farm free and clear.”

      Sandra thought her hearing had gone bad. “Of course you do. I was there when we bought it, remember?”

      Her mother looked down at her hands, now folded on her lap. “Andrew took out a mortgage on it last month.”

      Sandra fell back against the safe, unsteady on her feet. “What?”

      “Andrew came to your father last month and had him sign some papers. Your father was uneasy about it, but what could he say? Andrew promised it was a short-term problem and he’d pay off the mortgage within the next year.”

      Sandra slid down to the floor with a thud. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

      “Andrew asked your father not to tell you or me. He said he didn’t want you to worry about a situation that would be rectified within the year. I had no idea until today.”

      Sandra didn’t like what she was hearing, but deep down inside she knew it was true. “What made Dad decide to tell you?”

      “He didn’t intend to. But since it’s happened, he’s grown a bit cold toward Andrew. When he kept making excuses for why he couldn’t come today, I was able to get the truth out of him.” She met her daughter’s eyes. “He feels there’s more to this than Andrew is letting on.”

      Sandra shared her father’s skepticism. Her heart told her what the more was, but she couldn’t voice it. Andrew had promised it wouldn’t happen again. Things were perfect with them. He wouldn’t jeopardize it. He wouldn’t.

      “Do you think Andrew could be gambling again?” her mother asked.

      Sandra squeezed her eyes closed, wanting to shut out her mother, Andrew, the world.

      “I’m sorry, Sandra,” Ida said, coming to sit on the floor next to her.

      Sandra turned in her mother’s arms and sobbed as the weight of her world crashed down on her shoulders.