"Sister Melanie, did I just see you steal money from the church offering basket?" Doreen stood in the doorway of the church treasurer's office. She didn't want to believe what she'd just witnessed, but what other choice did she have? This wasn't a case of hearsay or it's-not-what-it-looks-like. She'd just seen the church treasurer take one of the white tithes and offering envelopes and slip it into her sweater pocket.

Melanie shot up out of her seat. "First Lady Doreen!" She was in total shock to see Doreen standing in the doorway. "I, uh ..." Her words trailed off. But that was okay by Doreen. Unless Melanie was about to speak the truth, she didn't want to hear anything she had to say anyhow.

"It's church policy that you don't count the funds without myself, pastor, or another member of the finance board," Doreen reminded the frazzled woman standing before her. "You know what this means, don't you?" Doreen slightly tilted her head forward and raised an eyebrow. She didn't wait for Melanie to respond either. "You're going to have to resign from your position as church treasurer and any other leadership position you hold here at Living Word Living Waters until after you've been delivered from that pilfering spirit."

"But, First Lady —" Melanie tried to speak.

"I love you, Sister Melanie. I can honestly say that you've been one of few people here at the church — heck — in this town, who has genuinely accepted me since I married Pastor Frey five years ago and became the first lady of this ministry. And although it pains me, there is no way you can continue operating in the same ministry you're stealing from. Now, by no means does this mean you can't continue to hold a membership at the church." Doreen walked around the desk to where Melanie stood. "You know we are a place of healing and deliverance, so you definitely need to be here so we can minister that spirit of theft right on out of you." Mother Doreen gave Melanie a great big Holy Ghost hug. "We love you."

"And I love you too," Melanie said, returning the gesture of hugging Doreen. "That's why I would never —"

"Hey, you two." Pastor Wallace Frey, senior pastor of Living Word Living Waters, entered the room in a rush. "Sorry, I'm late, Sister Melanie." He turned to close the door. "I know it's my week to help you count the money." He turned around to see Doreen and Melanie releasing each other from a hug. Both their eyes were cast downward. He immediately sensed that something was going on.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say once upon a time there'd been two canaries flying in the room. And either you both ate one each, or you managed to split one poor little fella while the other flew off to freedom." Wallace chuckled. He was always making these quirky comparisons. Everyone figured it was him trying to use modern-day parables like Jesus did in His time. Only thing is, Jesus' were a lot easier to catch on to. "'Cause you both got little yellow feathers hanging out of your mouths." He wiped the corners of his mouth as if suggesting the two women should do the same.

Neither woman responded to his humor.

"What's going on here?" He took a step toward the desk. Neither woman spoke. He was sensing things were far from kosher. "Everything okay?" He reached the chair on the opposite side of the desk where the women stood and stopped.

Doreen and Melanie looked at each other. Their eyes questioned which one would break the news to Pastor. Finally, Melanie relinquished the duty by once again casting her eyes downward.

Doreen exhaled, then spoke. "No, Pastor, everything is not okay." She nodded to the chair her husband stood by. "You might want to sit down for this."

Wallace looked from his wife to Melanie. Worry and fret were plastered across Melanie's face. This deeply concerned him. For the decade he'd known Melanie and the seven years she'd been church treasurer, she'd always been high spirited, donning a smile that could brighten anyone's life. Yet, now, it appeared, from what Wallace could tell, that her eyes had no life in them at all. What had taken place in the last twenty minutes from when service ended and she was out in the sanctuary praising the Lord, to now, where she looked as though God had turned His face from her? This didn't look good. It didn't feel good. He took his wife's advice and sat.

"Honey, I know Sister Melanie has been around and with this church longer than I have," Doreen said. "And like I just told her, she's been one of the kindest and most welcoming people I've encountered since becoming first lady, which is why it pains me to see her have to go."

Wallace hadn't even gotten comfortable in the chair before he shot up right out of it. "What? You can't be serious!" He said, "Sister Melanie, you can't quit. You can't leave us now." He stepped around the desk to her and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Whatever it is, I'll do my best to make it right."

He tightened his lips, shook his head, and then continued. "Although on one hand, I'm grateful that this church has a first lady you felt you could talk to ..." And Wallace was indeed grateful for that. About 90 percent of the female members of the church still came to him for matters and concerns that his wife, as first lady, could easily handle. In the first year or so, he just figured everyone had always been accustomed to coming to him for prayer, spiritual advice, or whatnot. He hoped that eventually everyone would warm up to and get used to the fact that they now had a first lady they could go to. By year three, Wallace concluded that change was probably taking his church a little longer to adapt to than most. So any other time he'd been 100 percent on board with Melanie having gone to his wife before coming to him, but this, evidently, wasn't any other time. This was a time when the church was losing one of the best treasurers that had ever kept its books. And on top of that, Melanie was a genuinely good person who he'd known over half his life.

"I just don't understand why you didn't come to me with something as serious, drastic, and life changing to the church as you deciding to quit." He stared at Melanie, waiting on a response.

"That's because I didn't decide to quit," Melanie was allowed to say uninterrupted.

"Huh? What?" Wallace was quite confused. "I don't understand. If you didn't quit ..." He allowed his eyes to travel from Melanie to his wife, the only other person in the room who might be able to offer him up some answers.

"I had to let Sister Melanie go," Doreen said, answering her husband's unasked question.

"But ... What?" He was truly at a loss for words. In all his years of pastoring the church he had never had to remove anyone from his or her position. Leaders had resigned, others had left the church, some had even, God rest their souls, gone on to glory. But never had anyone been fired.

"Sister Melanie was fired," Doreen said to make it clear.

Wallace shook his head. He couldn't have been hearing things right. He sat back down in the chair. "Hold up, this isn't The Apprentice, and you're not Donald Trump," he said to his wife.

If not for the fact Wallace always spoke so calm ly and respectfully, even when he was low-key reading someone the riot act, Doreen might have taken offense to her husband's words. But she knew him well enough to know that his words never came from a bad place. They were always battered in...