Life Choices

The bell chimed. Customers came in and out. The smell of coffee and pastry filled the air. The old-fashioned register made a chugging noise. With each order, a line of numbers would appear, and paper would unravel. Pop McGrady, the shop’s owner could be heard yelling out order numbers. Three employees, were mingling around, fulfilling orders, and working like a seamless machine. Curtis Winfield stepped through the coffee shop’s door. His morning had consisted of chasing his golden retriever, Mutt, around the neighborhood. Mutt was chasing one of the neighborhood cats and had wiggled loose from Curtis’s grasp. It took twenty minutes to convince Mutt that Sylvester, Ms. Margie’s cat, was unreachable and that it was time to go home. He had not ironed his shirt. He had not had one sliver of breakfast. He had not even taken a shower. To say he was behind schedule was an understatement. He had arrived at the coffee shop, hoping a warm coffee and an apple fritter could change his morning.

              “Good morning, Curt. Same as usual?” Kit, one of the shop’s baristas, greeted him with a warm smile. “That would be lovely.” Kit nodded. Less than three minutes later, Curtis was holding an apple fritter and steaming cappuccino. He trudged through the shoulder-to-shoulder walking traffic until he reached a tall brick building. He typed a three-digit code into a keypad and the side door opened. “Good morning, Curtis.” Greta, the office assistant, greeted him when he reached the administration offices. “Good morning.” Greta passed him a stack of mail. “Pastor Eric won’t be into around noon.” Curtis nodded. He closed the door to his office and scarfed down the apple fritter. “Thank you, God, for apple fritters,” he said aloud.

              A knock came on the door about an hour later. “Your eleven-o clock is here,” Greta opened the door and gestured for someone to follow. A man, wearing a suit and tie, with shining black shoes entered the room. Greta closed the door behind him. “Good morning.” Curtis outstretched his hand and the man took it. “Do I know you from somewhere?” The man looked familiar to Curtis. “Curtis! Its me! Henry Trotter!” It took a minute, but Curtis soon realized he was staring at his childhood friend. “Henry! Oh, my goodness! It has been so long!” Curtis gestured for Henry to sit down. “It did not register at all when I saw your name on my appointment list. I apologize.” Henry let out a small laugh. “It is totally fine.” Henry and Curtis had been next door neighbors growing up. Their mothers both stayed at home. They both had older brothers. Both of their fathers worked in public service. One a firefighter. One a police officer. Both liked sports. They always tossed the football around or kicked the soccer ball. Their lives were so similar that they sometimes wondered if they were related. But in the ninth grade, Henry’s family moved to a different part of the city. One that a lot of people considered upper class. The lawns were perfectly manicured, and all the houses had two car garages. Henry went to a different school and the families lost contact with each other. His mother, noticing her son’s initial sadness had told Curtis, “In life, people will come and go. Some harder than others. But you will get through.”

              Back in the present moment, Curtis cleared his thoughts. “What can I help you with?” Being a pastor, Curtis took many appointments throughout the day. Some people seeking counseling. Some seeking direction. Some simply seeking comfort. But Greta had not made a note of what this appointment was for. “My company would like to buy this building.” The words hit the air like a thud. Curtis thought he must have misheard. “I apologize…what?” Henry pulled a folded paper from his blazer pocket. “I work for an investment company. My company has a client that would like to purchase this building.” “Well, any type of decisions of that magnitude would be something to discussed with the elders of the church.” Henry nodded. “Yes…but I was hoping because of our familiarity you could convince them.” Curtis shifted uneasily in his chair. He wished he were still chasing Mutt around the neighborhood. “Elder Greg purchased this church because he wanted a church for his community. He wanted to outreach to the community he lived in. Started with twenty-five people and now we have grown to around three hundred and still growing. Just recently expanded the worship altar. Renovated the kid’s ministry and small cafeteria.” Curtis stopped talking then. “What is your client wanting to use the building for?” Henry unfolded the paper and passed it to Curtis. “Stated here, he would like to turn this into a coffee shop and restaurant.” Curtis scanned the paper. “Pop McGrady’s shop, Pops, has been servicing the community for over thirty years. I personally go there every day I can.” Henry let out a laugh, but it seemed hollow. “Jeez…Curtis…it is 2024. Anyone or anything can be bought.” Curtis looked at Henry for a moment then. He noticed the nicely tailored suit. The diamond encrusted wristwatch. The diamond necklace. Also, the smell. Not like the aftershave Curtis wore. Like the bottles of cologne that exceed three-hundred-dollar price tags. “Remember when we were kids? I wanted to be a science teacher. You wanted to be a basketball coach.” Henry sighed. “And you became a pastor.” “Yes. I was called to a different purpose,” Curtis responded. “That is commendable Curt. But seriously, this is a lot of money. Who does not need more money?” Silence filled the room. “I was really hoping you would be helpful in convincing them to consider the offer.” Henry rose from his seat. “I’ll give you some time to reconsider.” Curtis also rose from his seat. “My old friend, it seems money has changed your life.” Henry flashed a smile. “It is a beautiful life.” “Do you have a family?” Henry’s smile never wavered. “I got all the women I could ever want.” He opened the door and walked out. Curtis stood in his office for a moment before he exited. Pastor Eric was standing next to Greta’s desk, discussing his morning. “You okay Curtis?” Eric had looked up from their conversation. “It’s amazing how people change throughout life.” That was all Curtis said.

              “Henry Trotter was a friend of yours?” Greg Tottles was sitting in the front row of the worship room. Curtis had relayed the events of the morning to him. “Yes. At one point in our lives.” “People change. You know that” Greg simply stated. “I know but Greg, he had zero concern for the people of the church or the history of the church. It was all about the dollar signs.” “You knew him when you were younger. His life took a different trajectory than yours did.” Curtis looked at Greg. An older man, dressed in a green and white checked flannel, blue jeans, and green sneakers. He wore a simple watch with a brown wristband. He liked to golf. He liked to play chess. He tried to convince teenagers and young adults to pick up more books and not their phones. He was a well-liked and respected man. “There will be no deal made. I will not give up this building. They will move on and try to convince someone else. Someone will take the money. It is just how things are. You did not become a science teacher. You became a pastor. Why is that?” Curtis looked around the room. “I dissected a frog.” Greg laughed heartily. “Enough said.” “What are the chances that after all these years we would have met in this way?” Greg put his hand on Curtis’s shoulder. “There is a lesson here.” Curtis looked down. “People change.” “Close.” Greg stood up and gestured for Curtis to as well. “Life changes people.”