Nathan
Five weeks after my injury, I walk out of the hospital with crutches and my wife by my side. It was not hard convincing the doctor to discharge me because I have progressed so well. He and the physiotherapist are convinced that I won’t need crutches soon if I continue with my exercises. 
“Babe?” I question when we arrive home and she leads me to the hall instead of our apartment.
“I need to show you something,” she says mysteriously and giggles when I frown at her.
“Surprise!” loud shouts and clapping fill the air the moment she opens the door to the hall. 
I stand against the door to support myself as I take in the old and young members of this community, who look so excited and happy to see me. 
“Welcome back, Brother Lord!” Mrs Gail beams and rushes to embrace me. My bestie.
I look at the family I have been blessed with and can’t hold back my tears. These people I have never done anything for, have gathered here to welcome me. Not only that, they have chased away the sore on my side.
“You will be pleased to know that we have sent that James boy packing!” Brother Aron beams and it’s all cheers. 
“Come, come sit, Brother Lord. We have goodies for you,” Leah says and I follow my wife and Mrs Gail, who lead me to sit at the stage, where there is a big table set-up with all kind of snacks. 
Isaac is the one who speaks to tell me that they felt terrible that James hurt me under their nose and vow to protect me next time. 
I am really touched, I can’t even speak. Amari squeezes my hand and responds to thank everyone on my behalf. We all eat and talk, before Brother Malcom takes the stage to dance. 
“Come on, Brother Lord. Let’s see if you can beat the best dancer of all times,” he challenges while everyone laughs. 
“You only won once. It does not make you the best dancer of all times,” Sister Harvey objects. “And I was sick that day,” she adds while everyone bursts out in laughter.
Mrs Gail told me in one of our many discussions, which Amari regards as gossip, that this dancing thing is a matter of contention between these two. Apparently there used to be a dancing competition back in the days which Brother Malcom won. Unfortunately Sister Harvey, who was his biggest opponent fell sick and the competition ended that year.
“Brother Lord! Brother Lord!” the youth starts chanting until I have no choice, but get on my feet and join the dance floor with my crutches. 
I have been to million-dollar exclusive parties in my life, but I don’t recall ever being so happy. I tapping my feet and sway my body to the rhythm. The retro music is just perfect for this.
“Take it easy, you are already a winner,” Amari shouts and everyone laughs. I blow her kiss. My wife is just awesome. 
“I thing Brother Lord is winning!” Mrs Gail shouts, reminding Brother Malcom and sister Harvey of the competition. 
They both look at me, before upping their game. Brother Malcom even throws his walking stick to the side and literally lights up the floor with the gliding and Michael Jackson moves. My jaw drops when Sister Harvey accepts the challenge. It is clear that both of them can dance.  I can’t help wishing I was there in their youth days. 
We are all doing a line dance when my wife gags and runs out. That completely ends the dancing and I get mischievous looks and congratulations. Amari had made me promise to keep this a secret until we have been to the clinic, but the cat is out of the bag.
“Brother Lord, how could you?” Leah asks. For some reason, she does not look pleased.
“She is my wife,” I respond defensively.
“Yes, but we need to win the choir competition,” she says and I look at her, confused.
“I told you that Amari is our best chorister. How is she going to sing when sick and what if she goes into labour before the finals?”
I clear my throat, suppressing my laughter. She really looks devastated by this.
“Don’t mind her, I am going to be a granny!” Mrs Gail shouts out the moment Amari returns. She shoots me a non-impressive look when everyone congratulates her. 
“I did not say anything,” I say pre-emptively and she rolls her eyes at me. 
“We have competition coming up, how can you be pregnant?” Leah interrogates Amari, who looks at her like she has grown horns. 
“Answer me,” Leah presses on. She is really into this competition.
“Ask your friend, it’s all his fault,” Amari throws me under the bus and Leah turns back to me. I know that my wife is punishing me when she winks and moves away from the conversation.
“How about this, we will all take care of her and make sure she is all healthy and well to sing,” I suggest, but I have no doubt that everyone here will be fussing over my wife from now on. 
“And if she goes into labour?” she asks.
“That will be in nine months’ time. The finals are in six months’ time,” I remind her.
“There is preterm,” she refutes my words. She is really worried about this. Mrs Gail told me that she has rivals in the other choirs and has made very bold statements about us winning. 
“You will just have to pray that does not happen. Take it as a test of your faith,” I suggest and she nods with determination on her face. 
A week later, we visit the clinic and the nurse confirms what we already know before booking a scan for us and prescribing pregnancy vitamins for Amari. 
She lays on my chest that night, in deep thoughts.
“What is it?”
“I am just thinking of all the blessings around us. Our community is no longer forgotten. The collage opposite the freeway will be opening soon. Our youth will be getting priority. Then there is the housing development.”
“Yah, I saw that,” I say carelessly. I don’t want to say much on this because that will be yet another lie I will have to own up to later when she finds out the truth.
“Those houses are huge and beautiful. I heard there will be playgrounds and pools. Its amazing!” she beams.
“You know that we can’t afford any of that yet, right?” 
“I know. We have each other, shelter and food. I can never ask for anything more. I am just happy for the jobs and development in our area,” she says. I study her face and only see honesty. She is truly content with what we have.
The following day, I receive a call from Brian. 
“I have good news. Paul has cracked the case. We know who tried to kill you.”