"Okay, y'all. This is it. This is the last song. I know you're all tired. And tomorrow night, at this point you'll probably be exhausted. But I need you to push it and go all out. Give me everything you've got."
Pam put her coat on and made her way toward the sanctuary doors, fishing for her phone in her handbag.
She dialed and Robin immediately picked up.
"Hi. I'm on my way back now. Turns out you're not gonna need to stay tonight. But could you wait until I get there so I can talk to you before you leave?"
Robin responded, but Pam had no idea what she said.
That was because of what she heard over the church sound system. And what she heard made her spin around and nearly drop her phone in the process.
"Come on up, Xavier. Close this thing out, my brother."
Chapter 14
As Xavier came up to the organ, Pam realized why she couldn't locate him earlier. He hadn't been in the tenor section at all. He was with the other musicians, playing the keyboard.
The second thing she realized was that she'd seen him before. At her mother's funeral. He and his brother were the last two people to come up to their table before Kristina ran off to the restroom.
Pam reached out for the nearest pew and used it to steady herself. Her heart banging against her chest, she sat and watched.
As he took the mic off the stand, some of the choir members shouted, “Sing, X!”
And sing he did.
He may have looked timid and shy when the others shouted out, but his voice was anything but. Rich and smooth, it filled every corner of the sanctuary. Pam had to cover her mouth in an effort to contain herself.
She may not have recognized him by sight, but after hearing him sing, she felt certain he must have Langston blood.
She closed her eyes and let the sound of his voice wash over her. Stylistically, she’d never heard anything like him. He could comfortably navigate his lower register and smoothly modulate all the way up to what her mother used to call the whistle pitch. He had complete vocal control and the confidence to use it correctly. He didn't wildly run up and down the scales just to prove that he could. He took his time and imbued every lyric with meaning and heartfelt conviction.
And she should know. The song he was singing wasn't an easy one. It was a duet Kristina and her mother recorded as the final song on what turned out to be her breakout album. It was the last time they ever sung together. The last time they saw each other, for that matter.
Pam leaned forward and rested her elbows on the back of the pew in front of her own, unable to do much more than watch him.
He was the same beautiful pecan brown as Kristina, but he definitely took more after his father, feature wise. He was medium height and slender, but not skinny. He certainly didn't seem big enough to house the powerful voice he possessed.
Voice…
Pam sat back in the pew. At the repast, he mentioned Mahalia helping his family. Was it just financially? Or, did she actually spend time with him?
The thought of it sent a flash of anger through Pam. That her mother would not only keep him a secret, but also get the privilege of watching him grow up while Kristina continued to mourn him, was too much. And if that's how Pam felt about it, she could only imagine what Kristina's reaction would be.
Kristina…
How in the world was she supposed to tell her about this? Especially now? When she’d finally agreed to go to rehab?
It seemed that every mess Kristina had ever gotten herself into, was somehow connected to the grief she carried over her stillborn son.
At first glance, finding him seemed the miracle they all needed. But Pam knew her sister. She’d feel guilty that he’d grown up without her. She'd be angry with their mother for keeping her from him. She'd hate herself for being the mess that she was, instead of a mother he could look up to.
Stop. You're getting too far ahead of yourself. Remember what Pastor Thomas said.
Quietly, she prayed. "I cast this care over on You, Father. I know You care for me and my sisters and Xavier. I ask that You work this all out for us. Let this be a blessing in all our lives and not a hindrance."
Immediately, she felt a release of the anxiety that had built up in her chest. She took a deep breath.
It wasn't like she should tell Kristina right now, anyway.
While the young man did resemble Omar and one could argue that he sounded like a Langston, all the "evidence" Pam had could be explained away.
It was possible that her mother had taken up time with the boy because his circumstances reminded her of her only grandson. It was possible that what sounded like Langston blood was really just Langston vocal training. And as far as his looks, it was also possible that she was just seeing what she wanted to see.
As much as she would’ve liked to believe this Xavier was her long-lost nephew, the odds were greater that he wasn’t.
Well, she thought, there's only one way to find out.
After the singers and musicians were dismissed, Pam waited in the back of the sanctuary so she could catch Xavier on his way out.
But as he came down the aisle toward her, laughing and talking with some of his friends, she got scared and had second thoughts. Maybe it was better to leave well enough alone. He seemed like a happy kid. And if she was wrong about her suspicions, there was no reason to bother him, anyway.
She snatched her purse up off the seat and quickly navigated her way around the pew, down the aisle and toward the door.
"Ms. Langston?"
Pam froze mid step. Slowly, she turned around to find Xavier staring right at her. He said a quick goodbye to his friends and approached her. It was too late now, she’d been caught.
She offered him a weak smile and put out her hand. "Hi. My name is P—“
“I know who you are!” He grinned and took her hand. “You’re Pamela Langston."
Pam was too shocked to hide her surprise. ”You know who I am?"
Maybe her mother hadn’t kept the secret. Maybe she had told him the whole story. Was it possible that he already knew? Pam felt that flutter of hope in her chest again.
"Of course, I do. Your mother talked about you all the time. You probably don't remember, but my brother and I met you a couple of days ago.”
"No, I remember." She did her best to hide her disappointment. Of course, he knew who she was. He was at the funeral and the repast.
"Um…" He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, as if he were hesitating. "I hope it’s okay for me to ask… How is your sister doing?"
"She's doing much better. Thank you."
He put his hand over his stomach and exhaled, genuinely relieved. "I'm so glad. My family and I have been praying for her ever since she was taken to the hospital."
His family. Pam wondered what they were like. They had to be good people to have raised such a compassionate young man.
“Thank you. We appreciate it."
They stood an awkward silence until Pam finally spoke up. "Well, all right then. I should probably get going. Thanks again."
Though it felt like it was killing her, Pam turned and walked away. As much as she would have liked to talk to him longer, what was there to say? The truth wasn’t an option. And that’s what she’d have to tell him in order to learn whether her suspicions were correct.
"Wait a minute." He jogged to catch up to her. "Were you here for rehearsal? Did you hear us?"
Pam was so relieved to have an excuse to keep talking to him, she almost laughed. "Yes!”
“What did you think?"
She smiled. "The choir, the musicians, you… Amazing. All of it was absolutely amazing."
He grinned so hard, it made her laugh. Just before they got to the church doors, he rushed ahead of her and opened them so she could walk out.
Although it was barely 5 o'clock, the sun had already started to go down. Noticing that, he offered to walk her to her car. He didn't have a sweater or a jacket and he shoved his hands in his pocket
s, teeth chattering.
"Do you think you'll be coming to the musical?"
She frowned. "I doubt it."
He nodded quickly, as if he expected as much, but she could see he was disappointed.
"That's probably for the best. After the funeral and everything, y’all probably really need some rest. And there’s gonna be a ton of people at the musical, so…” He sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than her.
As they got closer to Pam’s car, she found herself slowing her pace. She didn’t want to say goodbye to him. Not yet.
"Are you a fan? Of Kristina’s, I mean?"
His eyes lit up. "Am I a fan? I'm the president of the fan club! Well, actually that would have been Mother Langston. But I'm definitely the Vice President!”
Pam couldn’t help but chuckle at his enthusiasm. But then his expression darkened.
“We used to listen to your sister’s albums together. The day a new one came out, she'd buy it for us. Later, when I got older, I'd buy it. Either way, we’d go to her house and put it on in the living room. We always listened to the entire thing straight through, at least twice.” He smiled at the memory. “Then she’d take apart each one, like a mechanic with an engine. She’d explain why the song worked and what vocal techniques were used. After that, we’d make a bet on which would become number one hits.” He bit at his bottom lip. “She always got ‘em right. Every single time.”
Pam didn't know her mother had ever heard Kristina's albums, much less bought them. And she certainly never would've guessed that Mahalia was listening to them with Xavier.
"You two were pretty close, weren't you?"
He nodded and cleared his throat.
They stood next to the car, neither wanting to leave. Finally, he broke the silence. "Well, it was really nice to see you again. And I'm so glad you got to hear the run through.”
"Me too. You have a beautiful voice. A real gift."
Even with only the parking lot lights to illuminate his face, she could see him blush.
“Well, tomorrow night, I'll make sure I blow the roof off for all of you since you can't be there." He took his hand out of his pocket and gave her a wave. “Have a good night.”
He turned around and walked away. A pang of panic struck her. She still wasn’t ready to let him go.
“Actually…"
Xavier stopped and turned to face her. Pam took a few steps in his direction. "Would you mind joining me for dinner? I'd love to hear more about you and my mother."
He stood there for a few moments, blinking.
"I can drive you home after, if that's a problem."
"Really? Seriously?" He produced a grin that looked like he’d just won the Texas State Lottery.
"Seriously." Pam said.
He put his hands up as if to ask her to stay right where she was. "Let me just tell my brothers to go ahead without me. I'll be right back." He took off running across the parking lot, calling over his shoulder, “Just wait a minute and I'll be right back!"
Chapter 15
They ended up at a fifties-themed hamburger joint that looked like a diner. The retro booth they sat at even had a miniature jukebox on the table. But Pam didn’t notice any of that. She was too focused on the superhuman feat taking place before her.
She shook her head and blinked as she watched Xavier stuff yet another handful of fries in his mouth. Despite his slight build, the boy ate like he was The Rock. She'd kept a straight face for as long as she could, but eventually, she lost the fight and fell over on the booth seat, laughing.
Xavier froze. "What?"
"Where do you put it all?"
Xavier looked down at his plate, then back at Pam. He dropped his chin to his chest in shame.
"My brothers always called me The Little Piggy. They said one day I’d figure out why. I think I just did."
He groaned and covered his face in embarrassment. Pam reached out, grabbed his wrist and tugged on it.
"It's okay, little piggy. No need to be embarrassed."
He groaned even louder and then started laughing.
Pam felt like she was dreaming. This was the kind of moment she'd imagined at least a hundred times over the years. What life would have been like of Kristina's son had lived. What kind of food would he have liked? What kind of music? Would he have a sense of humor? An appetite like his mother's?
Now, by some miraculous twist of fate, she finally had the answers: fries, 80’s pop classics, yes, and most definitely, yes.
She couldn't stop looking at him. She’d spent the last hour studying every part of his face, every change in his expression.
The dark and long lashes that curled like they should've belonged to a girl. The way he crinkled his eyes when he thought something was funny. The way his smile was completely lopsided.
She just couldn't get enough. She thanked God that he was The Little Piggy, because had he not been so enamored with his fries, her staring might have freaked him out.
But that wasn't why she’d invited him to dinner. What she really wanted was any clue that might confirm her suspicions without having to ask him outright.
She folded her arms on the table and leaned in. "At the repast, you mentioned my mother helping your family. Can you tell me more?”
He nodded as he took a sip from his straw. “If it hadn't been for her, my parents would have been ruined. I was a preemie and had all kinds of crazy medical issues. As soon as they got one thing working right, something else would break down. I was like the world's tiniest clunker."
Pam laughed. She’d done a lot of that. From the moment he got in the car, he was saying crazy stuff and making her think, Where did this kid come from?
And if this was the stuff coming out of his mouth at seventeen, she could only imagine the mess he might've come up with when he was four.
The thought made her chest ache. If he was, in fact, her nephew, she'd have to really pray through to find it in her heart to forgive Mahalia. There was no way to replace what they'd missed with him, what had been stolen.
"You okay?" He was looking at her, worry etched across his brows.
"Oh, you know…just thinking about all that’s happened in the last few days.” She tried to smile, but it was a struggle.
He put his napkin down and sat back.
"Yeah, I miss her, too. She was the closest thing I had to a grandparent."
"Why is that?"
"Well, my mom and dad are older. By the time I came around, both had buried their parents. I always heard all these great stories about my grandparents when my brothers shared memories, but I didn’t have any because I never knew them. Of course, mom and dad were always saying stuff like, ‘Your grandma Florence sure would've loved you’. Or, ‘You would have gotten along well with your grandpa Simon. He liked fishing, too.’”
He shrugged. "It was nice of them to say it, but it didn’t make me miss having grandparents any less. So when me and Mother Langston became close, I felt like it was a chance to have all those relationships I missed."
"When did you meet her?"
He put his elbows on the table and rested his chin in the palm of his hand. "You know, I don't remember. I must've been small because I don't remember her not being there. We didn't get really close until I was older, but even when I was little kid, she'd always come to the hospital and visit me. Like when I had a surgery or something like that. She had this notebook she would always bring. We must've played tic-tac-toe a thousand times. And not once did she ever let me win."
He made a face and Pam snorted. "Yeah, that sounds like my mother."
"She was just always there. I remember this one time, I was feeling awful. My mom was working crazy hours. And even though my dad was there, it just wasn't the same as having your mom, you know?"
Pam nodded.
"She'd come by at night and sing me to sleep and in the morning she’d sing me awake,” he said, smiling.
Pam could hardly believe what she was hearing. Sat by his bed
side? Tic-tac-toe? Singing to him in the morning and at night? Mahalia never did anything like that when they were growing up. Turning off the light switch was her way of saying good night and banging on the wall just above it was how she said good morning.
"Then we started singing together. She taught me how to harmonize. As I got older, she gave me piano lessons, free of charge. Singing lessons, too. Grandma always—“ He stopped, his eyes wide. "I'm sorry."
"You called her that? I mean, she let you call her that?"
He nodded. "Really, I'm sorry. I don't mean any offense."
Pam put her hands up. "No. There's nothing for you to be sorry about. I'm not offended."
He reached for his glass and traced his finger on the condensation.
"You really miss her, don't you?"
He scooted his glass a few inches away from him and nodded. He stuffed more fries into his mouth and wiped his eyes with the back of his hands.
And that's when she saw it.
When he was aching with longing and the grief was written across his face, that was the moment she saw his resemblance to Kristina and it nearly broke her heart.
Chapter 16
When Xavier suggested that Pam meet his parents, she was quick to agree. He called ahead to let them know she was coming and by the time they got to the front door, his mother, Esther, practically tackled her in a bear hug.
The easy show of affection was apparently a family trait that carried over into the home itself. Walking into the house felt like being wrapped in a warm blanket. There was something about the spirit of the place. Not only was it warm and cozy, there was a peace that permeated the whole space.
It was easy for Pam to see why once she got to know the Morris parents a bit more.
Deacon was tall and husky. Quiet, but jovial. The warm and gentle smile on his face seemed a permanent fixture. Esther, on the other hand, was anything but quiet. Pam didn't think she'd ever met anyone so quick to laugh. She was a woman that not only loved life, but wanted to help everyone else love it, too.
He Restores My Soul (The Langston Family Saga Book 1) Page 8
