Chapter 1

Stumbling Blocks

Let us therefore no longer pass judgment on one another, but resolve instead never to put a stumbling block or hindrance in the way of another. -Romans 14:13

Olivia reread the last paragraph of the grant proposal on her laptop screen. With a sigh, she highlighted those sentences and pressed the space bar to delete it wholesale. She sighed again, this time closing her eyes and releasing the air slowly. Her lips rippled against the stream of air. When she opened her eyes, they fell on the portfolio that contained the file folder of the final pastoral candidate. She quickly glanced away because she didn't want to read another CV, cover letter, or sample sermon. Attending to this had been on her agenda this morning. She intended to review the contents before this last interview. A busy morning had turned into an equally busy afternoon. The file sat untouched right where Marjorie, the office manager, had placed it yesterday evening. The interview was in 15 minutes and she didn't even know the candidate's name.

Olivia had no guilt about neglecting this duty. She was thankful this was the final interview. The process had become tiring and boring-the parade of eager candidates falling over himself or herself to woo the search committee. The interviews were usually filled with boring orations-little mini sermons-from the candidates trying to show off their rhetorical prowess, scriptural knowledge, or the accomplishments reached at their previous churches. All their faces held that confident look, but just below was the desperate "Choose me! Choose me!" demeanor.

The search committee, composed of the associate ministers of each department, was eager to select a new pastor of Grace Tabernacle Christian Church. The search had taken over a year. Replacing the previous pastor, William C. Blake, who had passed away a year ago at the age of 74, proved difficult and painful. He had been affiliated with the church in different capacities for almost 30 years, pastoring for 20. The church staff floundered some after his death. They hadn't been able to come to consensus about an interim pastor so the last year had been a parade of guest speakers who jumped at the chance to be seen preaching in the pulpit of the late great Rev. William C. Blake. Many in the congregation wanted Rev. Blake's son, Bill, to take on the position. He was ordained, but content to remain the Minister of Music and Liturgy.

"Reverend Pope, the next candidate is here," said Marjorie with a quick smile from outside Olivia's office door.

"It can't be three already," Olivia said. She glanced at the time on her laptop. It read 2:40. "See, it's twenty minutes till three. I'll review the candidate file and be in the conference room in a minute." Olivia reached for the portfolio. Marjorie stepped to her desk and grabbed it.

"No time for catch up. Reverend Wright wants to begin in five minutes. The candidate is early-a good sign, right-so Reverend Wright instructed me to gather everyone as soon as possible," she explained.

Olivia frowned. "Really? I got sidetracked working on this grant."

After saving her document, Olivia rose to her feet and grabbed her cell phone, pen, and water bottle. She met Marjorie at the door. "I should probably take a quick look at the candidate's highlights."

"Well, that's just how you get when you are writing one of those things-total tunnel vision-until you are done. I'll fill you in as we walk." Olivia shut her door and they started off down the hall. "His name is Reverend Fit-" Marjorie began but stopped when her office phone rang.

"I have to get this call." Marjorie handed the portfolio to Olivia and turned the other way. "It's a blessed day at Grace Tabernacle. This is Marjorie," she said in her gleeful trademark greeting.

Olivia continued down the long corridor toward the conference room in her conservative suit and staid bun, but still without a clue about the candidate. Since Harrison would be leading the interview, this was fine with her. She was now ready to get this over with, resolved to keep her comments to a minimum. Olivia had made her choice. She wanted the Reverend Sally Langston, one of the candidates they had interviewed yesterday. She had the credentials, the experience, and the familiarity with the church as a longtime colleague of Reverend Blake.

Olivia was eager to get home and unwind after a long day at work. Edison was out of town so she was going to have the house to herself. She could feel the soap bubbles on her skin as she languished in a long, hot bath. These were her thoughts as she entered the conference room.

"Hey, Liv. Each time I walked by your office today you were bent over your computer. Grant time, eh? Hopefully we can get a new pastor on board soon," Harrison said as she entered the room.

Olivia greeted the others already seated at the long conference table-each with their own candidate file in front of them. She felt a little guilty, thinking she was the only one who hadn't done her homework. We are all here now," said Harrison. We'll start with prayer and jump right in. After the prayer, he began.

"Our last candidate is Reverend Dr. Fitzgerald Thomas Grant. UC Santa Barbara political science undergrad, Claremont School of Theology Master of Divinity, and GTU doctorate in Ethics and Social Theory. He pastored Antioch Christian Church for the last fifteen years after running but dropping out of a Congressional run in California. He's married to Melody Grant, who goes by Mellie. She is trained as a lawyer, but only practiced four years. Since then she has been a stay at home mom. Now she does consulting work for political campaigns and publicity firms. Any questions before I call Marjorie to bring him in?" said Harrison. When no one answered, Harrison phoned Marjorie.

A hum of conversation ensued while they waited. There were 6 including her that composed the central power of Grace Tabernacle Christian Church: Harrison Wright, Executive Minister; Olivia Pope, Minister of Strategic Advancement; Quinn Perkins, Minister of Congregational Care; William Blake, Jr., Minister of Music and Liturgy; Enrique Guerra, Minister of Community Engagement; and Abby Whelan, Minister of Public Relations.

They were each talented in their own right. For years, they had made a good team-growing the membership, reinvigorating the ministry, and reviving the stature of this church in a community that had faced and persevered through difficult times in its history. Since Reverend Blake's death, their collective vow to faithfully serve the church seemed to become secondary to their own departments' needs. They had voted on Harrison to be the interim Senior Minister, fulfilling all the duties of that role. Olivia was sure he would vie for the position outright, but he showed no sign of discomfort when it became clear many on the ministry team and within the congregation wanted Reverend Blake's son, Bill Blake, to take the role.

Harrison delighted in this leadership position, but he did not relish the preaching duties. He preached sporadically, leaving the lions share up to the other ministry team members. They had created a rotating schedule. Bill had the idea of inviting guest speakers and changing the liturgical order of service with each season on the liturgical calendar. Abby objected, citing the confusion it would cause regular members as well as a disruption of tradition. Olivia did not have an opinion. She had been preoccupied with her teaching load and willing to go with the flow of things at church. Six months after a parade of different speakers, Harrison called a special ministry meeting to discuss the steep decline in membership and contributions. They were operating mostly out of the funds from grants Olivia had acquired. Unfortunately these grants were for specific programs-not salaries and operating expenses-and would have to be repaid to the grant. They unanimously agreed to ramp up the search for a replacement-this had taken precedence over most things for the last couple of months, lighting a fire under everyone but Olivia.

"Everyone, meet the Reverend. Dr. Fitzgerald Grant," Marjorie said with a bright smile when she led him into the conference room. Everyone stood when he entered. Fitzgerald's eyes swept across the room quickly. He nodded his head in a blanket acknowledgment.

Bill, the closest to him, greeted Reverend Grant first. "It's great to meet you, I'm Bill the-"

Fitzgerald interrupted, "Minister of Music and Liturgy..." Bill looked pleased and they pumped hands."

Olivia swallowed and then plastered on a smile when he moved to her. She glanced away quickly, feeling inexplicably self-conscious. She turned back to meet his eyes and extended her hand. "Hello, Reverend Grant, thanks for your interest in this position and Grace Tabernacle," Olivia said awkwardly.

"Reverend Pope, it's great to meet you." He placed his other hand over there joined hands. His eyes crinkled as he smiled broadly at her. She felt the warmth of his hand covering hers.

"You too!" she said a little too enthusiastically before stepping aside so he could greet the next person.

The interview commenced. Harrison began with some initial questions: What is your personal faith story? What led you to ministry? Who are your mentors and why? What is urban ministry? What is the greatest issue facing the church today? Fitzgerald answered the questions skillfully, not droning on like the others. His responses were thorough but succinct. Olivia observed how he gave each person equal amounts of eye contact when answering. Others joined in to ask questions spanning his education, ministry at his other churches, and other vocational aspirations. There was even one question about his favorite sports teams. Everyone had asked him a question or two, except for Olivia. Everyone seemed to like him. The conversation flowed in a way it hadn't with the other candidates. Olivia was an observer more than a participant because she was taking it all in. On the one hand he seemed like a great candidate. On the other hand, there was something about him that made her uncomfortable. She watched him closely while he answered one of Quinn's questions.

"I can't take credit for growing the membership at my church. I attribute that to my gifted staff. They truly embodied the workers are few, harvest is plentiful paradigm. My only contribution was identifying their gifts with the discernment of the Holy Spirit and getting out of their way. I gave them the space to fully embody their talents. Our membership grew because we fulfilled the needs of that community. We really were the light shining on the hill," Fitzgerald said.

Without realizing it, Olivia rolled her eyes and sighed a little too loudly.

"Reverend. Pope, did I say something to offend you?" he asked, an earnest but confused look, appearing on his face.

"No. No. I-" Olivia looked around and realized she was caught and had to answer. Her body language hinted at frustration.

"Well, I think it is appropriate to recognize that growing a church takes strategy, planning, vision, money, and sound leadership. All this talk of the Holy Spirit, which I do of course agree with, and spiritual gifts is just the magical machinations that many clergy throw around. This work of building up God's kingdom is not magic," Olivia argued.

"But Rev. Pope, I was not calling it magic. I don't believe in magic I was merely recognizing the hand of God and the Spirit in my success at Antioch. It was hard work, on par with building up any corporation. It's just that-"

"Thanks, Dr. Grant. There's no need to continue. I understand. Tell us about your family and their role in your ministry," Olivia said. If he was upset, he didn't show it. He made eye contact with everyone present, but stared at Olivia the longest as he answered.

"My wife has been very supportive. She helped to start the Women's Ministry at Antioch. Karen and Gerry are the musicians in the family. They've always worked with the music ministry. They are very important to my ministry. They will have an active role wherever I am."

"If there are no other questions for Dr. Grant," Harrison said extending a hand to anyone who wanted to make a query, "we want to thank you for considering Grace Church. We will be in touch, and you let us know if you have any questions for us."

"I do have one question," Fitzgerald said. "In reviewing the information you sent about Grace Church, I noticed a decline in your membership, why do you think that is, Rev. Pope?"

Olivia's head jerked up from her pretend note taking. She hadn't been able to look him in the eye after their exchange. She could only speculate that he was trying to turn the tables on her. She met his eyes and spoke honestly.

"The passing of Rev. Blake was really difficult for the church. He had ministered for a very long time. I think we waited too long to choose a replacement, and in the interim, changed some of our programs. I think people left because there were too many changes in the midst of that difficult time." Olivia felt the weight of her words and the truth of them.

"Reverend Blake was surely a great minister who changed many lives. It would be an honor for me to work with you all to continue his vision while adding to it. My approach would begin with surveying the congregation and making them part of the process. Together, we can be a great light, a beacon, in the community."

Olivia nodded her head. "Thank you."

Harrison stood and extended his hand to Fitzgerald. "Dr. Grant, we appreciate your time."

Fitzgerald's smile was a full on sparkler as he said his farewells. When he reached Olivia, his eyes lingered a second longer, his gaze quizzical. Olivia squeezed his warm hand and moved back. Harrison called Marjorie to escort him out.

"Anybody up for coffee? I think we can get this done today," said Harrison after Fitzgerald left the room.

"I agree," said Abby.

"I second that," said Enrique.

Everyone parroted their agreement except Olivia, but her non-response got lost in everyone's scramble to leave the room for a break. They headed down the hall with a buzz of conversation and then parted like a sea to go in different directions.

Olivia walked to the bathroom replaying the interview. After washing up, she checked her hair and makeup and exited the bathroom door. She hoped she could sway the women, at least, towards Sally Langston. Lost in thought, she ran right into him.

Fitzgerald was walking down the hallway directly towards her, once again giving her a shock. Wasn't he gone? There was nothing she could do short of turning around and going the opposite way.

"Rev. Pope, I was hoping to find you," he said.

There it was again, that uncomfortable feeling that came over her when she stood close to him, gazing at him.

"How can I help you?" she asked.

He considered her a moment before speaking. "I don't understand what went wrong during our interview. I've examined everything I said. I'm trying to understand. I thought I could address any further questions you might have?" he said.

Olivia felt trapped and totally taken off guard standing there in the narrow corridor with him. He was looking at her earnestly. Before she could rein it all in her body started responding to him. His woodsy and spicy scent assailed her nostrils. Her eyes fell to his lips causing her to lick her lips. She was horrified when a knowing look flashed over his face. Oh Jesus, did he see me looking at him like that?

"No. Um…I have to go. I'm sorry," she mumbled, hastily. Finally able to get the lead out of her feet, she made a quick escape around him and turned the corner, pledging to ensure he did not get the job.

"How's the search going, hon?" Edison asked, looking up from his iPad to address Olivia. She looked up from her iPad, giving him a brief smile of hello.

They'd been sitting at the breakfast table together, but had yet to engage each other in conversation or eat their perfectly customized breakfast. On Edison's plate were two sausage links, scrambled eggs, lightly toasted honey wheat bread with a teaspoon of jam. This was complimented by a mug of coffee and glass of water. Olivia's plate held an egg white omelet with spinach and feta cheese, complimented by lightly toasted cinnamon raisin Ezekiel Bread, no jam. She had one mug of coffee and water also. It was their custom for Olivia to make this breakfast most mornings on the rare occasion that they ate together. They would sit at their breakfast nook, read their iPads, and engage in conversation, which usually included checking in with each other about schedules, particularly Edison's. He was an airline pilot for Alpha Airlines, which frequently took him away from home for days at a time. He had been home two days from a four day cross-country trip. Barring any changes he would be home for another 3 days until his next trip out.

"It's over. They've chosen a candidate and he has accepted," Olivia said, pushing her tablet aside and taking a bite of toast. Edison began eating his food also.

"Really? But why do you say, 'they'? You are on the search committee. You had a say, right?"

"Yes, but no one was really interested in hearing my reservations about that candidate. His background in politics really served him well because he was the master of spin. He read us this line about humbly leading his staff to grow his membership by some obscene percent. He went on and on about Reverend Blake and how he was a role model to him. Then he did this name dropping. I did some research and found out about a lien on his old church's property, but he had some convenient excuse about the accountant's battle with some obscure disease. She supposedly forgot to file some paperwork, blah, blah, blah." Olivia explained, gesturing with her hands and furrowing her eyebrows.

"Wow. What's his name?" Edison asked with a chuckle.

"Fitzgerald Grant."

"I take it that the new pastor is white?" Edison mused. He rose from his chair and stood behind Olivia, propping himself up on the back of her chair.

Olivia looked back at him. "Yes, but that doesn't offend me, of course," Olivia said as Edison began massaging her neck and shoulders. "It's his arrogance and...ohh that feels really nice." Olivia let her head succumb to its weight and drop forward.

"You seem pretty tense, hon," he said squeezing her shoulders and forearms. He kissed her neck. "I know something that will work out the kinks."

Olivia sighed deeply as every part of her awakened in anticipation."Me too," she said excitedly. Forgetting about her breakfast, she rose from her chair and lifted on her toes to kiss him. He kissed her back, and they walked to the bedroom. Olivia stripped quickly while Edison dispensed with his clothes. They pulled back the covers and laid down together as if they were mirroring each other. Edison kissed her and then settled between her legs before sliding inside of her. The contact felt good to her, but her mind started to wonder. She became aware, too aware, of the surroundings. Edison's breathing on her neck and the sounds he made with the momentum of his thrusts. She noticed a ray of sun cascading in the room, illuminating the dust particles in the air. She saw a list donors she needed to call on a post-it note affixed to the dresser mirror. Olivia made a mental note to take care of that later today. Edison started to make the familiar sounds she knew signaled his impending climax. Olivia made the obligatory groans and high pitched moans to signal her own climax of the fake variety.

"Oh hon, that was so good," he breathed against her ear.

"Mmm," Olivia said.

"I'm going for a run now. Will you be home right after work today?" Edison asked. He hopped up from the bed, picking up his discarded garments. He walked into the closet and returned in long sweats and a t-shirt.

Olivia slipped on her robe and began to remake the bed. "I should. I'll call if something comes up."

Edison kissed her cheek. "Have a blessed day, Rev. and don't give your new boss too much hell today."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Bye Edison."

After a few minutes, Olivia looked out the window to catch Edison's form jogging down the tree lined street of their subdivision.

She stripped off her pearl white robe and turned on the shower's hot spray. After throwing on her shower cap, she squatted in front of the cabinet under her vanity and pulled out a makeup case. She opened it and pulled out her vibrator.

"Good morning, Mr. 7," she said with a little smirk.

She walked into the dark green marble shower and pulled the glass door closed. Once the spray reached the right temperature, Olivia pressed the button to activate the multiple shower heads. The water cascaded upon her body from multiple directions. She sat on the bench, braced herself against the wall, and placed her 7 speed waterproof vibrator between her legs. When she found her sweet spot, she changed the speeds until the familiar sensations uncoiled inside of her. She squeezed her eyes shut, threw her head back and let the pleasure overtake her. The moans she heard sounded foreign to her. The water eventually turned cold, but the coldness went beyond the water temperature. She was empty, broken, and alone. The saltiness of her tears mixed with the cold spray.

Olivia sped down Vine Street. Her car speakers pounded with the tunes of Commissioned, one of her favorite gospel groups. The current CD was from circa 1994, but once she found anything she liked she listened to it incessantly.

She sang along at the top of her lungs. She enjoyed the beat and knew the lyrics by heart.

"Hello," Olivia screamed into the phone, ceasing her singing. She realized that she was screaming and turned down the volume. "I'm sorry. Hello?"

"Reverend Pope, I'm calling to remind you about your meeting with Dr. Grant at one this afternoon. You didn't answer the meeting request so I thought I'd give you a call. So can I confirm it?" Marjorie said.

"Meeting? What meeting? Our ministry meeting isn't till next Monday. We cancelled meetings until Dr. Grant got settled, remember?" Olivia said.

"Dr. Grant wants a sit down with all staff before the ministry meeting. You had left the dinner early when he announced it a couple of days ago. I haven't seen you in the office since then."

"I changed my schedule some. My husband is back in town. My apologies for not letting you know," Olivia explained hastily.

Since Dr. Grant moved into the administration building a week ago, she had been avoiding him. She'd rearranged meetings to ensure she wouldn't see him. It had been a juggling act, but she managed to avoid a face-to-face with him. She had been in the same room with him, but she'd always managed to be out of his line of sight. This had been easy with everyone clamoring for an audience with the new pastor. Olivia knew her duck and dodge plan couldn't last. She had hoped that by the time he was settled, he would have forgotten about her demeanor in the interview and their awkward encounter in the hallway afterward. She had banked on having a couple more days before she had to see him.

"Can I reschedule? I um…I have a faculty meeting at the seminary today," Olivia lied.

"I'm sorry Reverend Pope, but Dr. Grant is adamant about seeing you today. I'll see you this afternoon at one." Marjorie piped in, before hanging up." Olivia looked at the phone. The blare of the horns behind her let her know she was sitting at a green light. She pushed on the gas as the song changed.

Olivia glanced at the clock. It was 9:30. On a whim, she turned at the next light and took the interstate in the opposite direction of Grace Church.

"O, get in here girl!" Felicia gushed, using Olivia's nickname, "O". Despite holding her 8 month old baby, she managed to pull Olivia into her front door, pulling her into a bear hug.

Olivia instantly felt at home at her best friend Felecia's house. "I smell gingerbread, Felicia. I am taking it all home with me. Come here, John John, help Auntie O find it," Olivia said. She grabbed the baby from Felecia's arms and marched to the kitchen.

About 30 minutes later, Olivia sat on a barstool, working on her second piece of gingerbread and a cup of tea. John John was playing with the toys in his play pin.

"Spill it out, O. Why did my best friend call to make an impromptu visit on a whim when she never does things on a whim?" Felecia said.

Olivia looked at Felecia. Her eyes were sparkling in that way they always did even years ago when they were new seminary students. Felecia would have made been a gifted pastor. She had the rare gift of storytelling. Felecia could make entries from the dictionary interesting. She was also brilliantly smart, easily as able to be a professor, researcher-anything. She had a passion for writing stories and by her second year of seminary, that's all she wanted to do. Incidentally, that was also the year that a senior seminarian, Johnathan Perkins had fallen head over heels in love her. After 9 months they were engaged to be married. Now she was a full time writer, having authored 3 prize winning books. The second one won the PEN/Bellwether Prize. Her locks hung around her face. There was a smudge of flour on her cheek. She looked happy, really happy. This was a stark contrast to how Olivia felt, which made her sad. Before she could decompress, she started to cry.

"O? Sweetie, what's wrong?" Felecia asked, stepping close to her. She lifted her chin.

"Felecia, you're just so happy, and I'm a hell of a mess. I doubt if I should be in ministry. My husband is never home. I am meeting with Mr. 7 entirely too much. And I think I am attracted to the new senior pastor. Can I hide out here for a couple of days? Do you think Johnathan would mind? I don't eat much. I'll do the housework and take care of little John John while you write your next masterpiece."

Felecia wrapped her arms around Olivia. She breathed in the homey smells of baby powder, cinnamon, and molasses. "Olivia Carolyn Pope, you are not a mess. You are just doing what you do. Putting unnecessary pressure on yourself and overreacting. You need to take care of yourself and get back to your roots. When was the last time you sang or preached?"

"A year…a little more maybe...not since Reverend Blake died. You know he used to have me preach almost once a month. I haven't sang...other than in my car...since about the same time. I get it Felecia. You're saying I need a little self-care...renewal...Pastoral Care and Counseling 101." She slid off the stool and started looking around Felecia's kitchen.

Felecia took Olivia's seat and watched her absently rifle through draws and cabinets. "Now, for Edison, Mr. 7, and the senior pastor...that's quite a love triangle," Felecia said. "I'm not trying to make light of it, O. I think you need to talk to Edison about your needs. Be clear with him. Stop...I don't know how else to say it...faking your orgasms. Tell him what you want so you can put Mr. 7 to rest. I don't have anything against Mr. 7. I have my own numbered friend, but Johnathan is well acquainted with him and exactly what speed I like."

"I can't bring myself to talk to Edison about it."

"You've been married for five years, O. If not now, when? What is this about being attracted to your new boss?"

"Felecia, let's not even talk about that. I am probably overacting as usual. The day of the interview, I was tired and missing Edison," Olivia said. "But I do need you to pray with me Felecia. I need some spiritual armor, my friend. I'm just feeling sort of exposed and out of sorts."

"Of course, O."

Felecia and Olivia stood in the kitchen, facing each other. Their heads were bowed and their hands joined. The words of Felecia's prayer encircled Olivia filling her with peace. For the first time in a while, she felt empowered.

Olivia felt so much better after her visit with Felecia. It was 6 and she had long since missed her meeting with Dr. Grant. She decided to put if off one more day, pledging to reschedule for tomorrow. She hadn't called Edison since she was headed home. Olivia's cell phone rang. She quickly saw that it was the church on the caller ID.

"Marjorie. I missed the meeting with Dr. Grant today. I can reschedule for tomorrow. What is his schedule?"

"Reverend Pope, there is no need to reschedule. I am at the office now. Why don't you stop by. You've been pretty skillful at avoiding me these last couple of days," he said. Olivia's cell phone slipped out of her hand and fell between her seat and middle tray table. She leaned over and felt for it while keeping her eyes on the road. She pulled into a gas station and retrieved the phone.

"Dr. Grant? Dr. Grant?" Olivia called, placing the phone to her ear. "I apologize. I dropped the phone."

"So you're already in your car then?"

Olivia listened to the lilt of his voice. It was smooth, strong, and deep.

"Reverend Pope? Are you there?"

"Yes."

"So, when should I expect you?"

Olivia couldn't bring herself to say anything other than the truth. "I can be there in fifteen minutes."

I'll see you soon and you can call me Fitz," he said before disconnecting the line.

Dear Readers,

I'm editing and revising my old fanfics (aka Butterflypages). I'll be putting them back up slowly. Enjoy!

-Penelopenpal

#MyNewMoniker