She tucked the cleaning supplies on an eye-level shelf and led the way back to the kitchen, where she headed toward the refrigerator. "Let me pull together something for lunch."
Serena paused and cocked her head to the side, with her hand resting on the refrigerator door handle.
"When it's quiet like this, I get worried," Serena said. "Either they're up there sleeping or doing something they probably shouldn't be."
Tawana laughed. "Those two could probably convince Misha to do anything. They were watching Dora the Explorer
30 when I came down a few minutes ago. I'll run up and check on them."
As Tawana climbed the stairs two by two, Serena called after her, "Want a BLT or chicken salad sandwich?"
"The first choice," Tawana said.
"Me too."
"And three and four."
Serena turned toward the kitchen's side entrance and shook her head at Micah and Ian standing in the doorway. She glanced at the digital clock on the microwave. "I didn't hear you guys come in. Been gone four hours, but sure enough, you come back just in time to eat. Did you even hear what the first choice was?"
Micah walked over to Serena and kissed her lips.
Ian laughed. "Nope, and we don't care. Whatever you cook, we'll like."
He plopped into a chair at the small table in the breakfast nook. Serena opened the fridge to grab the bacon, and Micah reached around her for two bottles of water.
"Tiger Woods didn't have nothing on me today, baby. Neither did Ian."
He set one of the bottles of water in front of Ian and slapped his friend on the back.
Ian was preparing his comeback when Tawana descended the stairs and waved at the men.
"The boys are sprawled out on the playroom floor, sleeping like it's midnight," she said. "Looks like Misha convinced them to play school, and as the teacher, she enforced a naptime that she wanted to sample."
The four adults laughed.
"Misha needs to visit more often," Micah said.
"Amen to that," Serena said. "If that's what I need to do to get them to settle down, maybe I'll start playing the teacher."
She hoped her smile hid her frustration. On most days, the naps they eventually took came after a tantrum or two, or after Serena became so desperate that she'd promise them after-dinner ice cream or some other treat—a practice she had scolded young mothers for using when she had been executive director of the Children's Art Coalition.
A seven-year-old does a better job than I can of getting them to cooperate.
She shifted her attention to Micah to stave off the rising resentment. "So you beat your best buddy here, huh?"
Ian shook his head dismissively. "Don't believe that man. He's a lying preacher if I ever saw one."
Tawana took the mayonnaise, lettuce, and tomato Serena juggled in her arms.
"I'm staying out of this one," she said.
Her hands now free, Serena spread uncooked bacon across a plate, covered it with a paper towel, and slid it into the microwave. She pulled out a colander to wash the lettuce.
"Have you two been talking smack all morning?"
Before they could answer, she switched gears.
"While you debate the appropriate answer, can you make sure we have everything straight for tomorrow? Enough tables and chairs, sodas, propane? I'll call you when lunch is ready."
Micah and Ian took their bottles of water and headed outside.
"Come on, man. You can help me write my sermon too," Micah told Ian and laughed.
As their voices trailed off in a conversation still focused on golf, Tawana joined Serena at the sink and picked up a knife to cut the lettuce.
"You'll find this funny," Serena said as she and Tawana worked side by side. "Ian can come in here with the house looking like a jungle and I don't flinch. But all that cleaning we did earlier? It's for his pretty wife."
Tawana laughed. "Serena, I'm beginning to worry about you," she said. "Am I going to have to stop leaning on you to steer me right? Becoming a mother has worn you down."
She can tell? Serena hated that the truth was so obvious.
"Keep me in prayer, girl. This full-fledged grown-up needs it every day—even a preacher's wife. When are you picking up your mother?"
"The friend she’s visiting, Miss Brenda, said she'd bring her back," Tawana said. "They were so happy to see each other that they'll probably be talking late into the night. And don't be offended if Mama misses church and your party tomorrow. I overheard her agreeing to spend Sunday with one of my aunts."
"No problem," Serena said. "Are you going by to see them before you leave?"
Tawana shrugged. "They haven't changed much; still struggling to make ends meet, still living on the edge."
Serena raised an eyebrow. "Don't take the people who love you for granted, T," she said. "Been there, done that."
Serena thought about all the years she had wasted being angry with her mother because her father was someone other than she'd been led to believe. By the time she let go of the bitterness, she and Mama had little time left. They had forgiven each other before Mama died, but Serena's regret lingered to this day. As usual, these memories brought tears to her eyes.
She changed the subject again. "How's Ms. Carter adjusting to Boston? I know last winter was hard on her."
"It's difficult for her to be so far away from everyone and everything she knows," Tawana said. "Charlottesville was one thing. When I was at U.Va., she could catch a bus to Richmond on the weekends to visit her friends or church. In Boston she doesn't care for the people whose houses she cleans. And she hasn't made any friends, probably because she thinks the people there are standoffish. The real problem is, she won't take the time to find out differently."
Serena looked up from the deep fryer she had plugged in to cook some fries. "This is why my hips are holding on to that baby fat, even though the 'babies' are almost two and a half," she told Tawana. "And Misha?"
"Misha is getting hard to handle," Tawana said and sighed. "She gets mad because I'm gone a lot, but when I'm not in class, I'm studying."
Her cell phone vibrated in its holster on her waist. She clapped her hands when she saw the number.
"It's Grant!" she told Serena. "Should I answer?"
Serena poured frozen potato wedges into the bubbling oil without responding.
"What?" Tawana asked. She looked down at her phone. "I missed his call! I hope he's leaving a message."
Serena paused and faced Tawana. "You know I'm proud of you and all that you're accomplishing. It isn't easy. But maybe you need to slow down. Misha still needs you, too."
The fiery response flaring in Tawana's eyes surprised Serena.
"Mama's there for her when I can't be," Tawana said. "I don't know how else I'm going to make the grade if I don't put in the hours and pull my weight with my study groups. This is just the way it is. It's none of the other students' fault that I'm a mother."
Serena's heart softened. So that's what this was about. She'd been there herself at about the same age, when she'd learned the truth about her father. Instead of it being the man in the cemetery whose name was on her birth certificate, her real father, Melvin Gates, attended her childhood church with his wife, Althea, and served as a deacon.
Tawana's situation wasn't the same, but the shame and self-doubt were. She hoped her friend wasn't foolish enough to run from God, like she'd been determined to do.
Talk to her.
Serena knew what that whisper meant.
She motioned for Tawana to join her at the table.
"You were a teenage mother, T. It is what it is. Misha is a beautiful girl, you've earned a full ride to Harvard Law School—you have everything going for you. Don't get hung up on things you can't change. The admissions board knew who they were getting when they admitted you. They chose you because of who you are."
Tawana’s lips curved into a slight smile. "I know, Serena. But I can't help my schedule. This is law school. Plus I'm getting
a master's in public policy too. It's a grueling pace."
"Misha's only seven," Serena said. "You have to spend some special time with her, just the two of you—no Gram and no 'significant other.'"
Ms. Carter had told her about the times Tawana had gone on dates and stayed out overnight. Once, she'd let a man sleep at the apartment. Worse than that, Tawana had introduced several of her male friends to Misha, leaving the girl confused when they disappeared.
Lord, please don't let this child wind up with another baby.
"And speaking of time, you know what else I'm going to say is important."
Tawana stared at her.
"As busy and as stressful as your life is right now, I hope you're still praying every morning. Your faith isn't just for Sunday morning shouting, you know."
Tawana’s expression was hard to read.
"Let me stop before I start sounding like a Holy Roller," Serena said and rose from her seat. "Just know that I'm preaching to myself, too."
Tawana joined Serena at the sink, where Serena washed the few dishes stacked there while waiting on the fries to cook. She grabbed a dish towel and began drying the glasses and silverware as Serena passed them to her. They worked in silence, each lost in her thoughts.
Serena replayed the morning in her mind and felt guilty.
The way I've acted today, what right do I have to tell her anything?
Who was she to be giving advice when her efforts to raise her boys left her feeling like a failure most days? How could she encourage Tawana to stay focused when she let the wife of her husband's best friend get her all worked up?
"You know what, T?" she finally said. "I've been tripping today. I guess I have issues with Bethany coming to my creaky old 'house with lots of potential' when she's always talking about her wonderful life in her fabulous, interior decorated, suburban West End mansion.
"Plus, I'm stressing about Micah's relatives doing a critique of my household skills when they arrive. I'm home with the boys full-time, so I should have it all together, shouldn't I?"
She smiled wanly. "I'm still trying to figure out how in an eight-year span I've drifted from a successful advertising executive to a focused nonprofit leader to a not-so-on-top-of-things stay-at-home mom."
"You're doing a great job, Serena. What are you talking about?" Tawana asked. "And what's this about Micah's family coming to visit? Aren't you cool with his parents?"
Serena paused. "His parents, yes. The rest of them, I don't know. Micah's older sister is visiting with her son and daughter for two weeks this summer. That's just what I need—more kids underfoot when I can barely keep my two in check."
An odd look crossed Tawana's face. Serena could have sworn it was fear.
5
Whatever doubts, frustrations, or guilt Serena battled during the week, she always felt better when she brought them to the Lord. Now if she could just learn to leave them with Him and keep pushing forward.
"When we talk to God, wherever we are and whenever we need Him, He's listening," Micah told the congregation this morning as he prepared to lead them in prayer. "God's not like our family and friends — sometimes available by cell phone or email and sometimes not. He doesn't love us one day and turn his back on us the next. Bring your heart to God. Bring your fears, your worries, and your thanksgiving."
People throughout the crowded gym stood on their feet and linked hands while the choir softly sang, "All I wanna do is bless your name ..."
Before she closed her eyes, Serena scanned the room and silently thanked God—again—for growing Micah's ministry. God had swelled the congregation from a handful of members who lived in the Stillwell Community to about a thousand, who came from throughout metro Richmond on
Sundays and during the week to fellowship in this troubled neighborhood.
Serena knew numbers didn't matter to Micah; that was one of the reasons he had been fired by a church across the river. Standing Rock Community Church had wanted fame and fortune, and under the leadership of Micah's replacement, Jason Lyons, they appeared to be achieving their goal. You couldn't live in Richmond and miss the billboards touting the church's national presence on the Praises Go Up Gospel Network or the yellow Hummers that Standing Rock officials used to transport members to and from Sunday services.
"You're God's best! At Standing Rock, we treat you that way!"
Serena sometimes teased Micah by pointing a finger at him and reciting that slogan, which was emblazoned on all of the SUVs, except for Pastor Lyons's.
"Believe me," Micah would respond wryly, "I know how they treasure people. Until you've been kicked out with no warning, you haven't been given the royal treatment."
In the three years since Micah had founded New Hope Community Ministries, God had been good. New Hope's membership had grown swiftly enough for him to earn full-time wages, which he supplemented with substitute teaching or seasonal post office work.
The ministry's focus remained on serving residents of some of South Richmond's toughest streets, but interest had spread throughout the region about the blend of worship and local mission work taking place there.
Teenage mothers were paired with older women who supported them in parenting. Adults looking for jobs went through a four-week etiquette and interview-training program, sponsored by two church members who worked for the state employment commission. Micah frequently visited juvenile court with kids from the area and asked the presiding judge to send them through the church's Rites of Passage adolescent mentoring program instead of to detention. He agreed to report youths who didn't show up on time and participate in every session.
Serena arranged for homeless women and children living in some of the shelters in the area to be transported by bus to New Hope's services on Sunday and to Bible study on Wednesdays. Those children were paired with reading buddies, who gave them a new book to keep each week.
Serena's longtime friend Erika had relinquished her real estate license some time ago and was now pursuing her love of interior design; but once a month Erika hosted a first-time home buyers clinic for the church, in conjunction with officials from the state's housing development agency.
As quickly as the roster of members grew, so did the ministries.
"If God has blessed you with the gift of financial wisdom, then share it," Micah said one Sunday. "If you're a teacher, find your niche and help with our spiritual education team. If you have a gift for praying, come each week to teach others how to talk to God; then lead them to God's heart."
Those who visited or became members had no doubt where Micah stood on the issues of service and faith. He taught the congregation that when they used their gifts and talents to help others, they were doing more than just earning the right to call themselves "Christians." They were modeling Jesus, who healed the sick, fed five thousand, and gave hope to people who were condemned by others.
At New Hope, they weren't just studying Jesus's love for others; they were constantly seeking ways to share it.
Micah and Serena had been forced to practice what he preached when Erika's estranged husband, Elliott, began attending services Sunday after Sunday, and eventually became a New Hope member.
Elliott joined the usher board and seemed to enjoy seating visitors and distributing programs. It was odd to see this corporate lawyer dressed in a Brooks Brothers suit, guiding visitors and members to rows of folding chairs in the elementary school gym that doubled as New Hope's sanctuary. Pretty-boy handsome, Elliott appeared not to notice his effect on the women who requested church fans or directions to the ladies' room or a good Christian hug just so they could get his attention.
Somehow, every Sunday he managed to work his way over to Erika. Serena was convinced he had volunteered for the position so he'd be able to scan the congregation and keep an eye on her during the service.
"Want to join me after church for lunch?" he routinely asked, but Erika always declined. Serena sometimes voiced her wish that he would find another church so that Erika could wo
rship in peace. After all, she was the best friend of the First Lady.
Micah would scold her.
"At least the man is in church and not lurking outside Erika's windows."
It was clear that Elliott was serious about trying to win his wife back. Since her return to Richmond two years ago to work for D. Haven Interior Designs, he had taken anger management classes and had mailed her a copy of his graduation certificate. He requested regular visits with Aaron and didn't protest when Erika insisted that they be supervised.
"I deserve that," he had responded. "As long as I get to see my son. And I want you to know, I haven't given up hope on us being a family someday."
Erika didn’t hide her skepticism.
"He knows how to manipulate a situation to get what he wants," she warned Micah and Serena. "I've got my life back now; I'm not running anymore."
Serena wasn't so sure. Erika might not be fleeing from Elliott, but she seemed to be taking her next best chance at happiness for granted. Derrick wasn't just her boss; he had cared about her for a long time, and continued to wait on Erika to decide how she wanted to move forward.
Serena was stunned, however, to see him sitting in the congregation today. Erika usually didn't do anything that might inflame Elliott, like inviting another man to church. What gave?
Derrick leaned toward Erika after prayer and whispered in her ear. Serena had a clear view of them from where she sat, in a section of chairs set off to the side for choir members.
Serena was certain Erika didn't realize it, but when she was with Derrick, her demeanor changed. The nervous tension and anxiousness that usually enveloped her fell away. She laughed genuinely. She let her son play with Derrick without worrying about Aaron's safety or wellbeing.
To any stranger looking at the petite, Halle Berry- look-alike Erika, the trim and muscular Derrick, and the happy-go-lucky Aaron, they seemed like a sweet little family. Serena knew if Derrick had his way, that would have been reality by now.
There was the matter of Erika's marriage, though — a circumstance complicated by her newfound faith.
Watercolored Pearls Page 3
