Watercolored Pearls

by Stacy Hawkins Adams

  30

  Erika paused at the door, with duffel bag in hand, and hugged Charlotte goodbye.

  "I still can't get over it," she said. "We came up to celebrate you, and you turned the tables on us. Thank you for my pearls. I love you, Charlotte."

  The two women gripped each other and held on.

  Serena cleared her throat. "I hate to interrupt, but can the rest of us get some love too?"

  Charlotte and Erika laughed.

  "I tell you, you grown women are so jealous!"

  Charlotte playfully spanked Serena's hand, then pulled her toward her for a hug.

  "I know it's hard with your mother gone," she whispered in Serena's ear. "I'm always here for you if you need me."

  Serena nodded as tears welled up in her eyes. She had come to accept that she would never get over her mother's death; instead, she had learned to live with a broken heart.

  Charlotte stood back and looked at her. "I know how you're struggling with the kids and your new season in life, but you aren't alone. I might have sounded like I had it all together when I shared last night about raising my four children in the shelter; but believe me, Serena, there were days when I thought I was losing my mind, or that I was going to lose my children because I couldn't handle the pressure.

  "God always sent angels my way when I was at my weariest. Always. He'll do the same for you, especially with the new baby coming."

  Charlotte touched Serena's belly and smiled. "He didn't open your womb for nothing; he's walking this purpose and this path with you."

  Serena hugged Charlotte again. "Thank you."

  The return trip to Richmond was just as enjoyable, if less boisterous, than the ride to D.C. had been. The four friends marveled at how Charlotte managed to be so giving to everyone she met.

  Kami held up her chamois bag. "I'll never forget what it means to be a watercolored pearl."

  Serena, who was riding in the rear passenger seat this time, patted her sister's hand. "You're blessed to be finding out what that means at eighteen, Kami. Remember what Charlotte told us when things get difficult at Hampton or in your relationship with Kevin. I think it's wise of you two to be open to dating other people, especially since he's joining the Navy and you'll be meeting a slew of new folks. You've got years and years to add the layer of a long-term committed relationship. Right now, focus on getting to know yourself."

  Kami winked at Serena.

  "Gotcha, sis," she said.

  In the front passenger seat, Tawana stared out of the window at the bland scenery of trees and brush they sped past. How had Charlotte known what she needed to hear?

  I know all things.

  Tawana smiled and looked toward the sky, where one cumulus cloud after another seemed to guide the car toward home.

  Of course. God had orchestrated this. Her life finally seemed to be falling into place.

  She had stopped drinking heavily before moving in with Micah and Serena because she didn't feel right bringing her stash of wine to their place.

  It turned out, though, that she hadn't really needed it. Neal Lewis's murder trial was six weeks away, and she and the other lawyers had been working thirteen-hour days. When she was home, she spent what time she could with Misha before falling into bed.

  Tawana realized she hadn't had to fend off loneliness, because she had landed in a cocoon of friendship at work and love in the McDaniels's home. The images of her numerous one-night-stand boyfriends didn't parade through her dreams as frequently as they once had, either.

  One of those dates still haunted her, though. She cringed when she recalled how she had tried to sell her body to Grant and had wound up in his bed anyway, on his terms.

  What was I thinking?

  She'd been asking herself that question for weeks now and praying that Grant wouldn't tell their mutual friend Elizabeth what had transpired. She also had been praying for God to forgive and to help her forgive herself.

  This morning, though, Charlotte's wisdom, kind words, and gift of pearls had helped free her from her demons of the past. She couldn't go back in time and alter the choices she had made, but if she concentrated on moving forward and on consciously becoming the person she longed to be, eventually the past wouldn't matter as much.

  Tawana looked at Erika, who kept her eyes on the road while she drove and hummed along to songs on the India Arie Testimony CD.

  Erika was so beautiful, Tawana mused. Couldn't she see that she didn't need Elliott to be happy? Didn't she remember who the true source of that emotion was?

  Tawana laughed silently at herself. Look at me, trying to tell someone how to fix her life, when I'm always going in circles.

  That was the funny thing about people, Tawana was realizing; they could easily recognize the gems in others while missing their own precious stones; or, they arrogantly believed theirs shone brighter than everyone else's.

  Help me get it right, Lord. I'm tired of trying on my own, she prayed.

  When Erika sailed past the Doswell exit, which led to King's Dominion amusement park just north of Richmond, Tawana grabbed her purse to rummage for some gum. She felt her cell phone vibrating and hit Talk just before the call was routed to voicemail.

  "Hey, Mama, we'll be at the house in about twenty minutes," Tawana said. "Why aren't you at church? Didn't want to take the brood of kids?"

  Tawana's eyes grew large. She turned to Serena.

  "Micah's trying to reach you. Stillwell Elementary is under water."

  31

  Serena reached into her purse and pulled her black flip phone from its case. She gasped. Micah had tried to call at least ten times.

  She had turned the phone on vibrate at Charlotte's party and had never switched it back to the ring tone. Before she could dial Micah's number, the phone chimed.

  "Micah? What happened?"

  The silence on the other end made her heart flip-flop.

  "You almost home?" he finally asked.

  Serena had a thousand questions, but she could tell he couldn’t handle them right now.

  "Yeah, babe," she said, gripping the phone so tightly that her knuckles glistened.

  "It's bad, love," he said. "I went in this morning to open the school as usual, and Mr. Bracey met me in the parking lot. It started raining Friday after you left, and didn't let up until this morning.

  "Water filled the third grade wing up to the students' desks. It didn't stop there this time. The gym, the cafeteria, and the school office also flooded, at least two feet. Mr. Bracey is worried about mold."

  Serena was speechless. Thank God the school term had ended on Friday. At least the kids wouldn't be affected.

  "How did you let the congregation know we weren't having church today?"

  "I stood in the parking lot with Mr. Bracey and asked everyone who came to stay so we could have a group prayer. The principal, Mrs. Weldon, showed up to check on the school office and wound up joining us.

  "We gathered for a little over an hour. I had Ms. Carter take the boys and Misha home, but I'm still here, trying to see how I can help clean up."

  Serena knew what this meant. New Hope Community Ministries would no longer be meeting at Stillwell Elementary School. The question now was whether they'd have somewhere to meet at all.

  She knew this was going to work out; God hadn't failed them yet. But she also knew how Micah must feel. He had been removed by force twice—first by the officials of Standing Rock Community Church and now by Mother Nature.

  "I'll be there as soon as I can, babe," Serena said.

  As she barreled toward South Richmond, Erika interjected before Serena ended the call.

  "Tell him we're on our way."

  32

  Tawana, Erika, and Serena bade Kami farewell before heading to assist Micah. She had school the next morning, and Serena had promised to have her home by a certain time to finish a project.

  The rest of the ladies spent the next five hours at Stillwell Elementary, helping Micah and dozens of New Hope mem
bers mop and clean the school's classrooms and hallways once the standing water had been pumped out of the building.

  "City and school officials probably won't let us back in here, after today," Micah informed the members who had gathered. "They have folks coming to clean up, but this was our church home. Let's show the school staff we support them and try to salvage whatever materials we can."

  By nightfall, soggy desks, books, and who knows what else, had begun to fill the building with a stench. Mr. Bracey returned around eight o'clock to lock the doors.

  "It's dark, and we don't know if snakes or other critters found their way inside with the water," he said. "Time to go. Thanks for your help."

  In the parking lot, Tawana watched from a distance as Serena embraced a forlorn Micah and talked softly to him. She thought about the words of wisdom Charlotte had shared that morning and knew that even this experience was going to make them all stronger.

  God, thank you for the blessing in this.

  By the time Erika had delivered her to the McDaniels's house, all was quiet. Ms. Carter had put the children to bed and was watching news reports about the flood and the fifteen South Richmond families that had been displaced. TV anchor Sabrina Shaw had interviewed Stillwell Elementary's principal about the damage to the school and Micah about what the loss of this temporary headquarters would mean for his blossoming ministry.

  A weary Micah shrugged on camera.

  "I don't know yet, but God knows. We'll have some answers before the week is over about where the congregation will meet next week. The one thing I can promise is that we aren't going away. New Hope Community Ministries is as much a part of the Stillwell community as this school. We'll get through this."

  Ms. Carter turned off the TV and looked at Tawana.

  "You must be tired. How was your weekend?"

  Tawana was thankful that sometimes Mama knew when to shed her tough demeanor. She approached her mother and bent down for a hug.

  "The weekend was awesome, Mama," she said. "I'll have to tell you about it. Coming home to the flood was a letdown, but as Micah just said, we'll get through it. I'll be back in the office working on the Lewis case bright and early tomorrow."

  Tawana plopped down next to her mother and watched part of an old movie with her, until both of them decided to call it a night. Ms. Carter turned off the TV and moved quickly toward the living room, where she’d be sleeping on a pull-out sofa for the night.

  Tawana prepared herself a cup of tea to sip until she fell asleep. She was climbing the stairs to head to bed when she heard Micah and Serena enter through the kitchen just as their home phone rang.

  "I'm sorry, you have the wrong number. No problem." Micah said to the caller.

  Tawana paused on the stairwell, out of their view.

  "He was calling for someone named Elise," Micah told Serena.

  "That's not the first time," Serena said. "I've taken several calls from people looking for an Elise."

  The phone rang again and Micah sighed. "Didn't I just tell him ... ?"

  Tawana dashed into the kitchen and moved past Micah to pick up the receiver.

  "Hello?" she said breathlessly. "Oh, hi, Arlen. No, I'm okay, just had to run to get to the phone."

  While she listened to Arlen explain how he must have dialed the wrong number seconds earlier, Tawana saw the recognition of what had just transpired register in Serena's and Micah's eyes.

  "Glad you got me," Tawana told him. She tried to dismiss the shame that filled her being. "What's going on?"

  Serena and Micah waved good night and went upstairs. She knew she'd have to explain the "Elise" thing later, but for now, she was intrigued by Arlen's reason for calling.

  Neal had been asking for her over the weekend. He wanted to talk to her about the mystery girl he had come to Richmond to visit, just before Drew Thomas disappeared.

  "Why me?" Tawana asked.

  "I don't know," Arlen said, "but we're willing to do whatever it takes to pull together this case. You're part of the defense team, so it's perfectly fine for him to request you. If he doesn't mind and you don't have a problem with it, I'd like to sit in too."

  Tawana was glad he had offered. "That would make me feel a lot better."

  Arlen agreed to meet her at the law firm at 9:00 a.m. so they could ride to the city jail together.

  Tawana reheated her tea in the microwave before going upstairs, but found that tonight it didn't help her relax. She snuggled in bed next to Misha and tried to will her mind to stop racing. Misha's steady breathing filled the silence as Tawana watched the digits on the bedside clock switch from one hour to the next, and finally, at 3:00 a.m., she accepted that Arlen's call had left her too wound up to sleep. She gathered her notes on the Lewis case and tiptoed down to the kitchen, to read through them for the hundredth time.

  Maybe the meeting later this morning would provide the missing piece of the puzzle, she surmised, because something just didn't fit about why Neal would come to Richmond, get involved with a kid outside of his circle, and wind up being accused of that teen's murder.

  Two hours later, Tawana accepted that sleep had indeed eluded her and showered and dressed for work. By the time she arrived at the firm, however, she could barely keep her eyes open.

  She entered the office with her personal key, locked the door behind her, and made a pot of coffee. She retrieved Neal's file and studied the notes from interviews with Neal's friends in D.C., regarding what he had told them about his visits to Richmond. Tawana didn't feel herself falling asleep, but when she heard the office phone ringing, she jolted awake.

  Who could be calling this early, except one of the partners? Or Arlen? Or was she dreaming?

  This wasn't imagined. Someone was calling collect, from the city jail. At 7:20 a.m.

  When the operator said Neal Lewis's name, a chill ran through her.

  How did he know someone would be here this early? Why does he want to talk to me?

  "Yes, I'll accept the call," she finally said.

  The operator patched the call through. Tawana reminded Neal that she would be taking notes from their conversation and that the phone line from the city jail could be recorded.

  Armed with that information, Neal seemed less inclined to talk. "Are you still coming down here? Today?"

  "Yes, Neal. Arlen and I will be there in a couple of hours, so we can talk face-to-face. Was there something urgent you wanted to discuss right now?"

  There was a long pause before he responded.

  "I'm ready to tell the truth."

  33

  Tawana knew from her law school training that "the truth" didn't have to be the same as "the story" the team crafted for Neal's defense. The goal in this case, as in any other, was to produce enough reasonable doubt for a jury to yield a "not guilty" verdict.

  Given that, Tawana wasn't sure why Neal was now so intent on baring his soul. Arlen advised her not to ask, at least not until after they had gotten the information they needed.

  "Whatever he has to say will likely help with our strategy for the case. We'll sit tight and listen and go from there."

  Neal shuffled into the interview room this morning looking very different from the clean-shaven, out-of-place young man she had met a couple of weeks earlier.

  His hair had grown an inch or so, a thin goatee covered his pimpled chin, and his confidence seemed to have diminished.

  "Are you holding up okay in here?" Arlen asked.

  Neal shrugged. "What do you think?"

  The measure of the respect for older adults and for authority that Neal possessed a few weeks earlier was gone. Tawana immediately recognized the change; it mirrored the erosion she had routinely witnessed in the mindsets of her childhood classmates and neighbors. Before she had even sought God, his grace had saved her from that fate.

  "It's your job to get me off," Neal told Tawana and Arlen this morning. "Let's get to it."

  After reading the article in the Washington Post over the weekend, she
understood his attitude. Along with dissecting his family's influence in D.C.'s social and financial circles, and emphasizing Neal's privileged upbringing, the article implied that Stanford University had withdrawn his academic scholarship and were contemplating revoking his offer of admission. Tawana wondered if he had read it.

  Arlen pulled out a miniature tape recorder, and Tawana placed a notebook and pen on the table.

  "You ready?" she asked.

  "Ready," Neal said. "But no recorder."

  Arlen returned the digital cassette player to his briefcase and grabbed a notepad and pen.

  Neal didn't waste time. He fixed his eyes on Tawana and began.

  "I think you know the girl I came to Richmond to visit."

  Tawana's interest was piqued. Since she had grown up in the city, it could be anybody.

  "Okay . . .," she said expectantly.

  "Victoria Miller."

  Tawana gasped. Bethany and Ian's daughter? "How…"

  Then she remembered what he had already shared about the girl: They had met at an exclusive party in D.C., which sounded fitting for Bethany, and as a by-product, fitting for Victoria, who was being groomed to emulate her mother.

  Neal launched into his explanation. "She and one of my classmates, Milania Webb, met at a summer equestrian camp and hit it off. Victoria was something else. She walked into Milania's party as if she were the host."

  Neal smiled at the memory.

  "Everything stopped. She was digging the attention and I was digging her. We wound up dancing and talking most of the night, which made my girlfriend mad, but I didn't care; I knew I could make up with her the next day.

  "Before Victoria left for the night, we shared our plans for the fall and what we wanted to do after college. She's beautiful, but she also knows what she wants out of life. I like that about her."