If you just started reading my work, you may want to read the first two chapters before you read this one. It will make more sense.
*****
I liked the reverend at my church. Slightly younger than me, late forties I'd say, he was about the most earnest and forthright person I ever encountered.
He had a mentor. An older preacher now in his early sixties, who had welcomed him into his first church, guided him along, warned him of pitfalls and temptation. Then he retired from the church and started an evangelical society, doing crusades in local high school football stadiums and community centers.
Robert, my preacher, was very proud of his growing success, even helping out on occasion. Brother Jim, as he now liked to be called, seemed to grow larger as his fame grew. Gone were the cheap suits and barely working PA systems, replaced by Saville Row and state of the art sound and lighting systems large enough for the football stadiums he now favored. Bought some air time at a local television station and started an hour long broadcast.
He actually preached one Sunday at my church, and Robert was almost in a nervous jerk.
I looked at his expensive suit, his impossibly bright silver hair contrasting nicely with his deep tan, amazing really, since it was February.
He charmed, flirted, glad handed with skill that was so practiced it came across as natural. He reminded me of an old time snake oil salesman.
When we shook the mutual dislike was instant, and he stayed as far away as possible.
I wrapped a penny inside a five dollar bill when they collected a special 'love offering' later for his crusades. I hope whoever counted the money got the point.
Four months later the scandal hit. He had been the target of a federal investigation that resulted in multiple charges. Some of his victims came forward, hoping to make a buck off the public. He'd had multiple encounters with both sexes, not always with consent or with people of legal age. In the end he was charged with statutory rape, date rape, possession and use of illegal substances, crimes against nature, embezzlement, wire fraud, and money laundering. He took a plea deal when a possible murder was discussed, going in to prison at sixty seven to do at least twenty years before possibility of parole.
Robert was devastated. About six weeks later he did a sermon on moral character and temptation.
"Temptation, great and small, surrounds us all. I have sadly discovered that average people tend to handle it pretty well as they struggle through their lives, aware of the cost, so they're rarely tested beyond control. It's when someone hits a level of success that elevates them above the crowd, when fortune and fame comes, that their true character is tested. Most of us can't handle that sort of success. Look in the papers on any given day, you'll find singers, actors, sports figures, politicians, even, sadly, men of the cloth that succumb.
It saddens me deeply to see these people, usually at the very pinnacle of their careers, fall. They above us all should be grateful for the bounty God has given them. Instead they squander their success in thoughtless acts of lust and abandon.
My earnest admonishment to you, my friends, is to remember this sermon should success ever find you. I pray God gives you the strength it takes to remain centered when it does."
I've thought of that sermon often in recent times, wishing I had paid more attention.
...
I never truly realized what Benny had to go through.
Following directions from Beth, I pulled all my stories off the site[you can't give it away when you're trying to sell it], worked up an outline, and redid them to establish continuity. The final four chapters were completely new. Even though the story was basically written, it still took six months to complete it, another three to edit and do the rewrites, before it was ready to publish.
Of course, I used the same team as Benny, from Beth to Saul, with Etta and Grace.
Saul loved it, as did Beth. Grace said it wasn't her cup of tea, and Etta just grinned and called me a GILF of epic proportions
The buzz created by them and my obvious connection to Benny gave me a leg up. When it was released it only took three months to hit the bestsellers list. At one time Benny's new book and "Plum" were ranked two and three. Etta got us on Sunday Morning, where we were being touted as the power couple of the literary community.
Mo Rocca did the interview, spending two days with us at home before bringing in the cameras.
Benny even taught him how to catfish, down to how to clean and cook them. He didn't seem to mind, but admitted he wasn't fond of the taste. Made great footage, though.
The actual interview went pretty smoothly. He asked us both about our current books, talked a little about our history. Finally he hit me with the big question, grinning.
"Are the characters in your book based on real life people? Say you and Benny, perhaps?"
I flamed red while Benny laughed softly. He answered for me.
"Yes and no, Mo. Obviously we're not a hardbodied, over endowed couple in our early thirties, but we've had our moments. Very pleasant moments. But the fact is we're just a small town couple in our midfifties. As much as we'd like to do some of the things in the novel, the fact is we're just not that flexible or energetic any more. Bonnie just has a really good imagination and it seems, an insight into that lifestyle that makes it believable."
I couldn't have said it better.
When we were home, which wasn't as often as I liked, we rarely went out, and only socialized with our old friends. Sadly, we weren't the trusting people we once were.
Hilda lost her job in the economic downturn, and they were strained financially. It hurt when the mother of the twins disappeared, leaving no forwarding address and stopping her child support payments.
We knew we had to tread carefully to spare their feelings, but came up with a plan. Hilda had at one time been a PA to a textile executive, so I offered her a job. The fact was it had come to the point that I really needed one, and she was perfect. Part of the terms of her employment was housing. Their apartment had become too small with two teenage girls sharing one bedroom, so we moved her into my old house, rent free. She cried for two days, while her husband was both embarrassed and grateful.
"Don't worry about it," I told them both as they moved in, "it does a house no good to stand empty. This way I can be sure it's taken care of."
Sarah had finally lost thirty pounds, and her husband made her stop.
"I want there to still be enough of you to grab on to," he told her, grabbing one of her still massive breasts, "I loved you as you were before, and I love you now. So stop, please."
...
I was doing the publicity thing, television appearances and book signings. Benny was doing the same for his new book, even though with his reputation he really didn't have to. He told me you should never forget the one that brought you to the dance, so he still followed the program. It worked out great when he rearranged as much of his schedule as he could to be in the same town as me, but it wasn't that often. We were apart for extended periods of time for the first time in our marriage, and neither of us liked it.
