Amara couldn't believe what she was hearing. It did not make any sense. What manner of coincidence was that? How could Michael be related to the pastor's wife?
She still remembered her last exchange with the woman and how she had left that day.
How could Michael be related to someone like that?
"Yes, my cousin. Let's go inside now. We can talk about it after church," Michael said, even though he was just as surprised and confused as she was.
As they exited the car, a pretty young lady dressed in a fine black striped gown, wearing a red beret and high-heeled sandals, saw them and approached Michael.
"Pastor Mike, where did you disappear to? I've been looking all over for you. Pastor Dele has been looking for you. He said he wants you in his office," she said, looking Amara over with curious interest.
Michael turned to Amara, "Go inside and sit down somewhere. We will talk after service," he told her before walking away.
The lady eyed Amara briefly before hurrying away after Michael. Amara watched as she held Michael's arm, and they walked away without Michael shaking off her hand.
Were they dating? Amara wondered.
She did not recognize the lady, but she could tell from her beret and uniform that she was a chorister. Perhaps she had joined the church within the last two years.
Amara's heart raced as she approached the entrance. Would they recognize her? Two years was definitely not enough time for anyone to forget someone's face, especially not someone like her, who had been one of the top soloists in the choir.
Did they know what she had been doing for the past two years? Would they be able to guess? She wondered, feeling ashamed and very self-conscious.
The male usher by the door sighted her, and from the way her eyes widened, Amara could tell she recognized her.
"Sister Amara," the Usher greeted with a wide, welcoming smile as he met her halfway.
Amara bowed slightly and smiled back awkwardly, "Good morning, brother Emma," she greeted, expecting a barrage of questions.
He smiled at her. There was no judgment or question in his eyes. He just smiled. "Welcome to church. It's good to see you again after such a long time. Today's service will be powerful," he said before ushering her in.
Amara was grateful that he didn't say more than that. She followed him, and he led her to one of the ongoing Sunday school classes and made her sit beside a middle-aged lady.
"Good morning, ma," Amara greeted in a hushed tone as she sat beside the lady.
The lady turned and smiled at her, "Good morning, dear. God bless you," she said before looking ahead at the Sunday school teacher, who was speaking.
The Sunday school teacher recognized Amara and smiled at her before she continued teaching.
They were discussing the prodigal son, and Amara felt like the prodigal daughter at that moment.
God must have a good sense of humor to have her return to church when they were treating such a topic. Not that she thought of herself as a prodigal daughter, anyway. The prodigal son had taken his father's wealth, but she, on the other hand, had not taken anything. She had left to find money.
"Don't you have a Bible?" the lady beside her asked when she noticed Amara was not holding one when the teacher asked them to read a Bible passage.
Amara forced a smile, "No, ma," she admitted.
"Let's share mine then," she offered as she opened the passage, and Amara shifted closer to her and read with her.
Inside the pastor's office, Michael sat opposite pastor Dele, his cousin's husband.
"Where did you go after the workers' meeting? I received a call from Pastor David last night. He said something happened last night at the vigil. What happened?" Pastor Dele asked, and Michael sighed.
"Do you know anyone called Amara? She used to be your member," Michael asked, ignoring his question.
"Amara," pastor Dele repeated, trying to remember who that was.
Just then, the office door opened, and Michael's cousin walked inside, "Daddy, guess who I just saw inside the church just now," she said to her husband, not minding that Michael was there.
"Who?"
"Sister Amara. Do you remember her?" she asked, and Pastor Dele looked from her to Michael.
"I guess you both are talking about the same person?" He asked, and his wife raised a brow.
"Tega, you know Amara?" She asked, sitting down next to Michael.
"Yes. You seem to know her very well, too," Michael said, and she nodded.
"Of course, I know her. She used to come and clean our house every week before. And then she stopped coming to church. We even heard rumors that she was now one of these small girls with big God."
"Oh! That sister Amara! I just remembered now. The one you chased from church with your bad character," he said to his wife.
She frowned, "I did not chase her from church. It was just a small misunderstanding. Tega was there. Tega, you remember her, abi? When you just moved to Warri and was staying in our house?"
"I was not there. I was in the room," Michael said with a frown.
So Amara had been the one in the house that day, he mused as he recalled all that had happened that day.
He had been inside the visitor's room resting that day when he heard voices in the living room. He had heard what the lady said and had cringed when he heard what his cousin had said.
He had felt the urge to come out to tell his cousin she was wrong and to appease the guest, but he had refrained from doing so because he didn't want to embarrass his cousin.
He had waited until he heard the guest leave before coming out to meet his cousin, and he had told her outrightly that she was wrong and had not acted with wisdom for a pastor's wife.
They had both quarreled about it, and she was angry with him until her husband came. They narrated what had happened to him. He had also said she was wrong, and they all agreed to call Amara to apologize to her and find a way to help her.
Michael had felt the leading in his spirit to help her, and had told them he would take care of her mother's medical bills.
The next day, they called her, but she ignored the calls and ended up blocking their lines. They had hoped she would be in church on Sunday, but that was the last time they saw her in church.
They had even gone to her house but had been told she moved out.
Oh, God! Michael thought, feeling even more upset now.
"Why were you asking about her?" pastor Dele asked Michael when he remembered that Michael had been about to talk about her before his wife came in.
Michael sighed deeply. Before he could respond, his cousin spoke again, "By the way, we heard from pastor David that you carried a girl that was dressed like Karashika from the marine kingdom…"
"Can you excuse us?" Her husband asked calmly, and she frowned.
"Why?"
"We were talking before you came in. Please excuse us," he said, and her frown deepened.
"What are you people saying that I can't hear? Is Tega not my cousin?" She murmured as she stood.
"Please go," Michael said, not wanting her to hear what he wanted to say.
She scowled at him as she walked away, and both men sighed as they watched her go.
"This your cousin eh," Pastor Dele said with a shake of his head.
Michael laughed, "Your wife."
"She does not just behave or talk like a pastor's wife at all. I wish she would just agree to go to the Bible college for pastor's wives," he said with a sigh, then shook his head and focused.
"About what we were saying. What happened at the vigil yesterday? And why did you bring up Amara just when I asked about the vigil? Don't tell me she is the girl pastor David talked about," he asked, and Michael nodded.
His cousin's husband had always been someone he trusted and could speak to easily.
"Yes, she is," Michael said. Then he went on to tell him all that had happened at the vigil, including how God had led him to step outside during the vigil, how he had left her in his car, and how he had disobeyed the Holy Spirit by telling Pastor David about Amara and taking her away against Pastor David's advice.
He also told pastor Dele about how he had met Amara two years ago in his Pharmacy but had failed to preach to her. He shared everything and left out only the part about Amara being a prostitute and about God saying Amara was his wife. That wasn't something he wanted to say out loud to anyone. He believed that if Amara wanted them to know about her past, she should be the one to say it herself.
"Hm. This is serious. Thank God she didn't die. Her blood would have been on your head because you failed to preach to her when you should have. If only my wife hadn't behaved that way towards her in the first place," Pastor Dele said with a deep sigh.
"What do you suggest I do now?" Michael asked, looking at him.
"Why are you asking me that? Go back to God and ask Him what you should do next. I'm sure He knows best why He led you to her. And next time you should listen to God and not a pastor. Not even a senior pastor. Do I need to tell you the story of the man of God and the old prophet in 1 Kings 13?" Pastor Dele asked.
Michael shook his head. He knew the story all too well.
"It is well. I will pray alongside you, and God will help you do the right thing. They've started praise and worship. Let's join the service," pastor Dele said, and they left the office together.
As they got to their seats at the minister's stand, Michael looked at the congregation, wondering where Amara was seated, and he froze when he saw her standing next to his mother.