Part 17 (1/2)

She pounded the table. ”Yeah, girl! An understanding. And now you understand, too.”

Sadness clouded around me as I heard the words I'd said so often in my younger years. My distorted belief system. I had one, of course. No atheism or anything like that for me. Jesus died, was buried and rose on the third day. John 3:16 and all that. And I'd get to the rest of it later, say when I was approaching thirty or so? Until then, I did my thing and G.o.d understood. People in the church were phony. It would turn out fine.

It hadn't. And it wouldn't for Shemika, either. How could I reach this girl without turning her off? Did I dare speak the truth to this stranger when I couldn't have this conversation with some of my own family?

G.o.d, who reconciled us to Himself through Christ, and gave us the ministry of reconciliation....

There it was, Tracey's devotional verse. It wasn't the pastor's job to help this girl, or even the church's job. G.o.d had sent her to me, a minister of reconciliation.

I turned my chair her way. ”If you knew a couple who were perfect for each other and truly in love but someone came along and lied to one of them and convinced her to leave the other, would you try to get them back together?”

She waved her hand like waxing a car. ”Oh, yeah. I had some friends like that. Josefina and Ricky. I could not let them stay apart-”

My hand covered Shemika's. ”So you understand how I feel right now. G.o.d has loved you from the foundation of the world. He loved you when you were born, when you did right and you did wrong. He's watched you give up your treasure to this boy because you thought you had to do that to be loved....”

She squeezed my hand.

”I thought that, too. I gave myself away, hoping that would be enough to keep a man by my side. It never was. I was trying to fill myself with human, failing love when what I needed was the love of G.o.d.”

Shemika nodded. ”I just wanted him to love me, you know? I thought that if I gave him a baby-” She choked back a sob. ”It works for some of the other girls.”

I shook my head. ”No it doesn't, sweetheart.” My sister's sad eyes at Sunday's dinner flashed through my mind. ”It never works to try and win a man's love. But G.o.d can fix it. Jesus can put the pieces back together. He did that for me. He'll do it for you, too. Spend the night with me this Sat.u.r.day. We'll get pretty for church and go to your boyfriend's house after and talk to his-”

”No.” The word hissed from between Shemika's teeth. ”His mother will lose it. And I'm afraid he'll-”

”He won't. We'll pray and G.o.d will go before us. It'll be all right.” In an Adrian-inspired moment, I kissed the top of her head.

As she returned my embrace, a round of soft applause filled the room, the kind produced by a lifetime of Junior League luncheons. I turned to see even Tangela wiping her eyes. Just as quickly the spark returned to her. ”Well it's obvious that Dana isn't going to be quiet, so we're dismissed.” She waved her hand toward my table. ”Next time, keep all that at home.”

I smiled through my tears as Shemika wrote down her phone number. We stood.

”Do you need a ride now?” I asked, hoping she didn't. I'd dived in over my head again and would need a day or two to recover.

”No, my boyfriend is picking me up,” she said, wiping the black trails of mascara from her face. ”He just got his license back.”

My body tightened. ”Oh, yeah. Him.” I picked up the pen where her phone number was written. ”What's his name again?”

She looked both ways. ”Come on, Miss Dana, don't you know?” She forced herself between the tables, moving for the door. ”It's your nephew. Jericho.”

Chapter Twelve.

Sat.u.r.day came before I was ready. In my mind, I was still back at the South Sails Country Club with Jericho's name echoing in my head. I hadn't gotten any sleep that night, between wanting to throttle my nephew, being sad for him and wondering how on Earth to tell Roch.e.l.le without her killing us all.

Add in Daddy popping over and eavesdropping-or playing close attention as he calls it-and the whole thing was a nightmare. For the first time ever, I was thankful Mama was dead. It's a horrible thing to say, but had she been alive, I might have been the stroke victim. Daddy wasn't happy about the pregnancy, but he took it in man-fas.h.i.+on, offering to cook for their wedding and let them take his bed at Jordan's after the ceremony. I squashed that until Roch.e.l.le found out, in hopes of keeping them from a bed at Saint Elizabeth Hospital.

So by the time Shemika showed up on my doorstep, clean-faced and somewhat sensible-acting, all my wonderful plans for girl-talks and makeovers had gone out the window. I had orders for two impromptu bridesmaid spa parties to get out by Monday and Daddy had taken over my kitchen with Sunday dinner preparations.

What a surprise when Shemika turned out to be a hard worker under all that Ebonics and lipstick? Without anyone saying a word, Shemika set to work, chopping and boiling the twenty pounds of potatoes for the potato salad, making a pot of the best baked beans I have ever tasted-I'd never admit it to Daddy-and helping me wrap and label 500 heart-shaped soaps and create the scented centerpieces for an upcoming Valentine's Day wedding.

Jericho managed to come over and help, too, looking happier than he should have been. When he'd arrived to pick up Shemika and I gave him the news, instead of being crushed as I expected, he seemed intrigued at the prospect of being a father. He smiled at me now, then scooped some of the potato salad into a bowl.

”Don't let Grandpa catch you. If you eat now, you might not eat tomorrow.”

He didn't seem concerned about that, either. ”Does the baby mean I don't get to play basketball? At college, I mean?”

”Probably not,” I'd said, trying to let him down easy. He went to the refrigerator for an orange, peeled it and put it on a plate for Shemika. When he started grilling her on her milk intake, I got a little upset, but managed to keep from kicking him out until an hour or so later, when Roch.e.l.le called. I wasn't sorry to see him go. This whole situation would take some getting used to.

Dahlia showed up next, reminding me I'd promised to babysit while she went with Trevor to the recording studio. I'd managed to block the whole thing out of my mind, but as soon as she mentioned it I remembered. I'd agreed only because the all-night daycare she'd mentioned taking Sierra to was always in the news for child abuse. A regular avenger of the downtrodden I was these days. The question was, who would take of me?

I will.

I am.

And He was. Through all my b.u.mbling the past few months, G.o.d continued to sustain me, to hold me up with His right hand. As I collapsed onto the couch with tears daring to flow, a knock came at the door. A knock, not the doorbell. Adrian. Daddy had managed to call him between the peach cobbler and the chocolate cake and I was glad to see him.

Without blinking an eye, he listened to all the problems as they tumbled out of my lips. He hugged me, put Sierra to sleep, and herded Shemika and Daddy out of the kitchen.

”I'm taking everyone to dinner and a movie,” he said softly before tossing a fifty-dollar bill on the coffee table. As everyone happily filed out of the house, he kissed my hairline. ”Take a nap. If you're too scared to mess with your Dad's food, order something. The Mexican Mama is doing takeout now. I can order for you on the cell if you want.”

Why wasn't I married to this guy again? Issues. Issues. The undoing of us all. ”You've done enough. I'll figure out something. Thanks so much.”

I ate my delicious chimichanga, sanitized the kitchen for Daddy's next round in the kitchen-or mine-and watched a funny movie on cable before drifting off on the couch while considering whether or not to risk Daddy's wrath by sampling a little of his peach cobbler. When a knock sounded again, I stumbled still half-asleep, but crazy enough to decide on kissing my benefactor. The cheek would be best considering my salsa-dinner-and-a-nap breath.

Still groggy but eager to show my grat.i.tude, I drew back the door, taking his cheeks in my hands and puckering before diving in, unfortunately before opening my eyes properly.

Only when lips met mine instead of stubble, did I realize that these cheeks were smooth and a few inches lower than they should have been.

”Well, h.e.l.lo to you, too.” Trevor, in a s.h.i.+rt I'd bought him six Valentine's ago and a pair of jeans fitted in all the right places, stood just beyond my face, licking his lips.

I shut my eyes as if this would all go away. ”I am so sorry. I thought you were-That wasn't supposed to happen.”

Trevor stepped inside and kicked the door shut with one of his boots. ”I'm glad it did. I've missed you, Dana. I mean really missed you.”

Run!

Doing a football s.h.i.+mmy I once saw on a horrible exercise video, I got away the best I could, though Trevor closed the distance with two strides.

”What are you doing here anyway?” I said in a pitiful voice. My chest heaved from the short run. I really really needed to get back to the gym. needed to get back to the gym.

”We wrapped up early. Came to pick up the baby.”

I swallowed hard, trying to ignore his lingering scent. I stared at Sierra snoozing on the couch behind me. Good thing I didn't send her with Adrian or I'd have had to face Trevor alone. ”Okay. Let me gather the baby's things. I had, uh, planned to take her to church in the morning.”