The God Box by Alex Sanchez

The God Box by Alex Sanchez

Author:Alex Sanchez [SANCHEZ, ALEX]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Tags: erotic MM, Romance MM
ISBN: 9781416909002
Publisher: Simon and Schuster
Published: 2007-01-01T05:00:00+00:00


Chapter 27

AS WE GOT INTO DECEMBER, THE WEATHER TURNED COOLER --AND SO DID MY

RELATIONSHIP WITH ANGIE. WE STILL IMED AND TALKED ON THE PHONE, BUT I

DIDN'T CALL HER AS MUCH. TOO OFTEN, I NO LONGER KNEW WHAT TO SAY TO

HER. IT WAS ALL SO CONFUSING.I was relieved when she told me, "Hey, I'm sorry I can't go out this Saturday. I have to go visit my aunt in Amarillo.""No problem," I told her. The real problem was inside me. I had to talk to somebody about everything going on or I was going to burst out of my skin. But who could I talk to?The answer to my prayers came that Sunday at church. Pastor Jose preached a sermon about how God needed to be the focus of our lives and at the center of every Christian marriage. To give examples, he described several couples that he'd counseled and helped to get back on track.I had never given much thought to that aspect of his pastoral work. Now as I listened, I wondered, Could he possibly help me with Angie? I still wanted for things to work out between us. But did I dare open up to him? He was, after all, my pastor. Could he help get129me get back on the straight and narrow--especially the straight}For several days I prayed for courage, until one afternoon, while at home alone, I picked up the phone. I knew our church's number from memory. Fingers trembling, I dialed."I Am the Way Church," answered Mrs. Tilly, our church secretary."Um, hi, this is Paul Mendoza. I'd like to know if, um, I could make an appointment to, um, come in and talk to Pastor?""Sure, hon." Mrs.

Tilly always called me "honey" or "sweetie" or something. She'd known me since Pa and I had first joined the church. But today, as she scheduled my appointment, her cheer barely made a dent in my nervousness.For the remainder of the week, my stomach gurgled constantly. At night, I could barely sleep. In school, I couldn't concentrate. On the drive to my meeting with Pastor, I gripped the steering wheel so hard that my knuckles turned white."Hi, honey," Mrs. Tilly greeted me, smiling. A half-joking sign on her desk read the wages of SIN IS DEATH, REPENT

BEFORE PAYDAY."Um, hi." I forced a smile back at her. "I think I'm, um, kind of early." (Half an hour early, in fact.)"No problem, sweetheart. Oh, I've got a new one for you . . ." She was always telling jokes and now leaned forward eagerly. "The preacher's little boy asks, 'Papa, I notice that every Sunday before you preach, you bow your head. What are you doing?' And his papa explains, 'Well, son, I'm asking the Lord to give me a good sermon.' So, the little boy thinks about that a minute and asks, 'Then why don't he?'"Mrs. Tilly burst out laughing. I tried to join her. Then I shuffled over to the sitting area and sank into the plush couch. While I waited, I glanced around at the inspirational signs on the wall.



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