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Barbados.
    “He did but I declined. I’ve already been to South Africa three times this year, have a slew of revivals and conferences on my plate, and the Sunday crowds are now out of control. I’ve put it off as long as I can. We’re going to have to expand.”
    “Many preachers would consider that a good problem to have.”
    “I’m thankful, King. Truly I am. But to whom much is given much is required. Many of the ministers out there see the numbers, but they don’t see the hard work and sacrifice that comes with these large crowds. I’m fortunate to have Cy Taylor in my corner.” Cy was an associate minister at Kingdom Citizens Christian Center, and also one of its wealthiest members. “He’s heading up the fund-raising for our new building and is also participating in our needs and feasibility study. But no matter the direction in location, construction, and design, we’re looking at a good ten to twenty mil. My head hurts just thinking about it.”
    “Been there, done that, bro, and expanding is definitely no joke. I’ll be glad to share with you everything that I know, and should you desire, I’ll also make those who led up our building project available to speak with you.”
    “I appreciate that, man.” A few moments of silence passed as King’s new car fairly glided down I-35. It was a beautiful summer day—bright, blue sky, fluffy cumulous clouds, and thick greenery courtesy of the spring’s heavy rains. “So are you ready for this next big step in your life? Ready to give your daughter away?”
    King let out a whistle. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
    “I can’t even imagine how that feels. Elisia isn’t even a teenager and I’m already sweating.”
    “Enjoy her now, while she still thinks the sun rises and sets on your head and before some young nucka convinces her otherwise.”
    “Oh, I already told her how it was going down in my house. She can’t date until she graduates!”
    “Ha! Good luck with that.”
    “Wishful thinking, I know.”
    “What is she now . . . ten, eleven?”
    “Lis is twelve going on twenty-one and D2 is fourteen going on forty!”
    King shook his head, remembering the last time he saw Derrick’s namesake a year ago, a teenager wearing a double-breasted suit, wide tie, wing tips and a bowler hat. “He still want to be a preacher?”
    “Yep.” Derrick took in the flat Kansas landscape, whizzing by him at a cool seventy miles per hour. “I keep waiting for the pretty young thang who’s going to make him open his nose and close his Bible.”
    “Hmm, as I recall, those PYTs from back in the day didn’t interfere with your scripture reading.”
    Derrick chuckled. “See, that’s what happens with a friend who’s known me as long as you have. You know where all of the skeletons are buried.”
    “Heck, man. I helped dig half the graves!”
    “Ha!”
    When King spoke again, his focus had gone back to Derrick’s most provocative question. “It seems like only yesterday I was changing that girl’s diapers.”
    “You wiped doo-doo?”
    “You didn’t?”
    “Naw, I could handle a pee diaper but when it came to number two . . .” Derrick made a face. “I don’t know nothing ’bout ’dat ’dere.”
    King laughed at both Derrick’s squeamishness and his attempt at youthful slang before the smile scampered away from his face. “Well, I did. And before I knew it she was crawling away from me into preschool, then kindergarten and grade school. I remember her first rite of passage—when we let her go with a group of girls to the junior high dance. I was waiting in the parking lot when it was over, and I can still remember her shiny eyes when she got into the car. ‘It was so much fun, Daddy,’” King mimicked, in an impressive falsetto. “She was all smiles and bubbles then,” King said, his misting eyes a total surprise. “But growing up . . . they change.”
    “Yeah, man. I hear you.” Derrick knew the exact moment that King was talking