Free The List by Sherri L. Lewis Page A

don’t know about all that. That seems like a bad word. I been living on my own for the past twenty years. All of a sudden, I gotta turn over my life to a man?”
    â€œYou said you wanted to get married,” Nicole reminded her. “And I know you want to do it God’s way, don’t you? That’s why y’all got that. I’m just learning to be submitted to God.”
    I kinda felt them. Even though I wasn’t a neck-twisting, mouthy, headstrong woman, I had gotten used to my independence over the past three years. Submission did seem like a bad word.
    Angela spoke up, “Yeah, but you guys got so caught up on submission that you missed the most important thing she said. If a man loves you as much as Christ loved the church, then it should be easy. Imagine a guy that loves you enough to die for you.”
    â€œGirl, when you find that man, let me know.” Nicole held up a peace sign. “All right. I did my duty and came like you asked me to. I’m out.”
    â€œYeah,” I said. “I’m tired and need to take it on home.”
    We all hugged and headed to our cars. As I started up my car, my phone beeped, indicating that I had a text message. I looked at the screen and saw it was from Lisa.
    Girl’s night at my house next week. Bring your lap top!
    Oh, dear. I couldn’t even imagine what foolishness Lisa had dreamed up.

six
    O n Monday morning, I sat at my office desk and said a silent prayer. The day had come for me to pitch my show ideas at the programming meeting. I had dreamed about them for years, worked on them for months, and refined them over the past few weeks.
    God, I believe it’s Your will to change the way black television looks. Please give me favor in this meeting. Help me not to be nervous. Touch their hearts and cause them to hear Your heart. I know this is You. Go with me.
    I grabbed my treatments and headed down the long hall to what I hoped was a new future for me and programming for our station. I entered the room and knew all the other producers wondered what I was doing there.
    Especially Rayshawn Jennings. She gave me one of those up-and-down, you-ain’t-nothing, what-do-you-think-you’re-doing-here looks that only a sister can give.
    I ignored her and headed toward an empty seat near the head of the table. I got other glances from some of the other producers—not as evil as Rayshawn’s, but still a closed-door, you-don’t-belong-here type of look. Their faces made it clear—I was a promo producer that did spots to promote their shows. I had no business in this meeting.
    I got a smile from the one person in the room who counted—Phyllis Carter, the VP of programming. She had come to my office weeks ago and said she had been looking over my spots and liked my eye. She mentioned what I already had heard. A large chunk of money had come to the station that would allow us to do more original programming. So, in addition to the music video shows, syndicated sitcom favorites, and church programs on Sundays, the station would be creating more of its own shows. We already had a few talk shows and news shows of our own, but now we’d be able to really create our own niche in the market. We were still a small network, but this chunk of money could allow us to enter the ranks with BET and TV One.
    I sat down at the table, a few seats from Phyllis Carter. She nodded to acknowledge me.
    Clearing her throat, she indicated that the meeting was to begin. “Okay, everyone. As you all know, we’re getting ready to produce more original programming for our fall line-up. I’ve asked each of you to come up with at least two show ideas to pitch. Let me hear what you’ve got.” She looked over at one of the senior producers. “Mark, you first.”
    Mark presented a sports talk show idea and a sports reality show idea. I didn’t particularly care for either one of them, seeing that I wasn’t