Watercolored Pearls

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Watercolored Pearls Page 14

by Stacy Hawkins Adams


  Tawana nudged him along. "When did you first visit Richmond?"

  "I came for the first time the weekend after we met. We kept it quiet, because like I said, I had a girlfriend —Lacey— and my parents liked her a lot," Neal said. "Victoria didn't want her parents to know, either, and specifically her father, because she said he was becoming really religious and was trying to get her interested in faith and more focused on achieving her goals. She said her mother would understand, but for some reason, it was easier this way.

  "She took me to Bottoms Up, the pizza place in Shockoe Bottom, and to Brown's Island where we sat and watched the river. The next time I visited, about two weeks later, I took her to dinner."

  "Were these always weekend trips?" Tawana asked.

  "Yeah," Neal said. "I would come down on Saturday morning so we'd have the entire day together."

  Neal inhaled and began wringing his hands.

  "After my seventh or eighth trip down, I decided to surprise her. My best friend, Steele, agreed to drive me, and our friend, Jamison, rode along. My parents had taken away my car because my grades had dropped to Bs in three classes. It shouldn't have mattered—I had already been accepted to 'the almighty' Stanford."

  Tawana raised an eyebrow but didn't interrupt him.

  "We got to Victoria's house and saw a Honda parked in the circular driveway, but I didn't think anything of it since my parents allow our maid and our gardener to park in our primary entrance. Steele and Jamison dropped me off and said they'd be back after scoping out girls at a nearby mall.

  "I couldn't ring the doorbell because her parents didn't know about us, so I went around the back of the property to the pool. I was going to call Victoria's cell and tell her to meet me there.

  "Then I heard voices and laughter, and I wondered if Victoria was swimming with her girlfriends. When I peeked through the gate, I saw her with a guy." Neal's voice grew strained. "With Drew."

  "Drew?" Tawana didn't mask her surprise.

  "They were sitting by the pool talking softly, and Drew was massaging her shoulders."

  "What did you do?" Tawana asked.

  "I walked in and confronted them," he said defiantly. "I asked her why he was there. She had told me her parents didn't allow her to date."

  Neal's eyes grew hard. "Dude told me he was her boyfriend and that I needed to back off. He asked Victoria what I was doing there."

  "What did she say?" Tawana asked.

  "She tried to play it off and say that we were just friends. Drew got in my face and told me to leave his girl alone.

  "I stormed around to the front of the house and called Steele and Jamison to come get me; I couldn't believe I was being played."

  Arlen interjected. "Did you and Drew fight?"

  Neal shook his head. "Victoria asked him to leave so her parents wouldn't ground her forever for having two guys at the house," he said. "Drew was angry, but he finally left, in his little Honda."

  Tawana heard Neal's disdain. She wanted to kick him.

  Be cool, you're a professional.

  "What happened next?"

  "Victoria came after me and said she was sorry; she hadn't known how to tell me she had a boyfriend, but she was trying to break up with him anyway," Neal said. "She said her mother didn't like Drew because he didn't live in their neighborhood or socialize with their friends or go to her school. She met him at the country club her family belongs to; he worked there as a lifeguard."

  Tawana recalled the contempt she had felt growing up, from people who thought they were better than she was because she was poor. She tried to control her growing anger; Neal was a client, and he was entitled to his opinions, no matter how narrow-minded.

  "Go on," she said softly.

  "She begged me to come to her pool party the next weekend and promised to introduce me to her friends. I believed she was really sorry about the Drew situation, and I couldn't tell her no," Neal said.

  Arlen moved Neal on with another question. "The last time we talked, you said you came down to the party without your parents' permission. How did you get here?"

  "I had come off punishment for my grades, but I knew my parents weren't going to let me drive to a party in Richmond when they didn't know the parents or the guest of honor," he said. "I told them I'd be spending the weekend at Steele's and that we would probably drive to Richmond to visit his cousin who's our age. They didn't question me. Steele actually stayed in the District that Saturday, and I came to Richmond alone, in my car."

  "What happened when you showed up at Victoria's?" Tawana asked.

  "Victoria introduced me to most of her guests and told them we'd met through a mutual friend," he said. "They thought it was cool that I'd come from D.C. We were having a good time until Drew showed up and started tripping."

  Neal stared at a faded spot on the city jail table. "Her friends didn't know him, either, except as the lifeguard at the club. Some of them asked why he was there. Others pretended they didn't see him."

  A bitter laugh escaped him, but he quickly turned serious again. "He approached me and tried to start an argument. He got loud and started shouting that Victoria was using me. Her mother appeared out of nowhere and escorted me, Drew, and Victoria into a utility room connected to the pool house. She basically told us that she knew her daughter was gorgeous, but we weren't going to get 'ghetto' at her party."

  Neal looked from Tawana to Arlen.

  "I told her she must not know who my father is. When I mentioned his name, her demeanor changed. She told me I could stay if I wanted, but she told 'pool boy' he had to leave."

  "You mean Drew?" Arlen asked.

  "Yeah," Neal said. "'Pool boy Drew.'"

  "And then?" Tawana asked.

  "She took Victoria's hand and led her back to the party," Neal said. "I laughed at Drew and told him the best man had won the right to stay, so he needed to leave. I tried to walk past him, but he lunged at me."

  Neal shook his head as he remembered. "Something came over me; I let him have it."

  Tawana leaned across the table and looked into Neal's eyes. "What does that mean, Neal? What did you do?"

  "I'm a champion wrestler for my school. Drew swung at me, and I pinned him to the floor."

  He wrung his hands and lowered his head. "I kept him pinned there until he stopped squirming. I didn't mean to seriously hurt him. I just wanted him to leave me alone."

  Neal looked up at Tawana and Arlen. "When I sat up, Drew wasn't moving. He just lay there. I'm trained in CPR, so I checked his pulse and tried to revive him."

  Tears filled his eyes and he looked from Tawana to Arlen.

  "It was too late. I killed him. I killed Drew Thomas that day."

  34

  Erika sat behind the wheel of her car and stared at the house that had once been her castle.

  Little had changed about the massive brick home since her middle-of-the-night escape; even the draperies she had custom ordered for the windows appeared to be the same.

  How does this feel?

  She asked herself that probing question because she knew it would have been the first one issued by Charlotte if she were along for the ride.

  A familiar anxiety surfaced and she quickly thrust the self-examination aside. Enough reflection—she was here to get this over with. Aaron had been invited for a playdate and dinner at a preschool friend's house. Before she picked him up, she was going to have a straightforward talk with his father.

  The visit to Charlotte's house over the weekend hadn't made her decision any clearer, but it had led her to believe that clarity would come in having a heart-to-heart discussion with Elliott, so she could decide whether investing the time in starting over was worth a try.

  Do you love him?

  Another Charlotte question. Truthfully, not in the way she once had. She was not head-over-heels smitten with this handsome law partner to the point that she'd surrender her will again to make him happy.

  Yet, if loving and pleasing God meant she should bu
ild a comfortable and committed relationship with Elliott for the sake of honoring her vows and for their child, she was willing to make that sacrifice. Even if it cost her the man she did love.

  Thinking about her dilemma brought tears to her eyes.

  She had sat on her sofa last night, staring at the television but seeing nothing. The words and images moved across the TV screen, but her mind kept replaying its own movies, with scenes lifted from her memory bank:

  She and Elliott dating in college.

  She and Elliott on the beach in Jamaica, reciting their wedding vows before unknown, but kind, islanders.

  She and Elliott at a local carnival recently, with Aaron walking between them, holding their hands.

  While she reminisced, Erika had fingered the items on her lap—her Bible and the bag of pearls Charlotte had given her. She cherished them both, but there was no question which held more weight. She had to follow God's Word.

  If nothing else, the weekend at Charlotte's had confirmed something she had wrestled with admitting for the longest time: her feelings for Derrick ran deep.

  Being in D.C. and not having an opportunity to see him, or at least talk to him, had been difficult. She knew if she hadn't been there, Derrick would have attended Charlotte's celebration to offer his support. She also had accepted that if she weren't a married wife and mother, regardless of how long she and Elliott had been estranged, she would have no qualms about forging a relationship with Derrick.

  He was a good and thoughtful man. He had shown her that consistently in the nearly four years she had known him. He had given her a chance when she came to him with a smidgen of talent, but no interior design degree and no formal design training.

  Most of his colleagues would have laughed her out of their showrooms. Derrick had held her hand most of the way. He had been the first man to hold Aaron after the boy's birth and had reassured Erika that she was doing the right thing when she gave temporary custody of the baby to Serena.

  There was no denying it.

  I love him, she had whispered, acknowledging for the first time the emotion she'd been trying to suppress.

  She wasn't sure, though, if acknowledging her feelings gave her the right to act on them. No matter how many justifications she came up with, she struggled with the notion that in the Bible, the author of Deuteronomy described divorce as the last straw for men and women who couldn't reconcile their differences.

  Abuse was a valid reason to end a marriage. But as she had come to know God, she knew he expected his children to love and keep loving no matter what. She knew God had given Elliott the same grace he was extending to her, and if Elliott had changed, the Bible indicated that he deserved a chance at having his family restored.

  So here she sat, with the sun setting, watching the house she thought she'd never enter again, preparing to ring the doorbell and ask to come in for a visit.

  Erika forced herself to release her grip on the steering wheel and pick up her purse. Just in case Elliott lost his cool and flipped out, she had her cell phone, and her mace, ready.

  If you 're concerned, why are you doing this?

  Erika ignored the voice and opened the car door. Before her feet hit the pavement, she heard a yelp that sounded almost human.

  There it was again. It was a person's voice, and it was coming from the direction of Elliott's side entry garage.

  Erika froze. Was she having flashbacks, or was someone inside that house being beaten?

  35

  She might have been stupid once, but she wasn't crazy enough to walk into danger again.

  Erika jumped behind the wheel of her car and locked the door. She slid her window halfway down to listen for more cries and convince herself she wasn't hallucinating.

  Should I call the police?

  Erika had barely formed the question when she saw a woman run down Elliott's driveway, clutching her face and sobbing. The woman fled past her, in bare feet, with her long black hair flying behind her.

  Erika's heart stopped. The woman looked nothing like her, but she saw in that instant what her future would be if she moved back into that house with her son.

  She clutched her chest when, seconds later, Elliott stalked out of the garage and stood in the driveway with his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

  His eyes were flaming, but he was silent, and Erika knew why. He would beat a woman fiercely behind closed doors, but he wasn't going to risk his reputation in public.

  This woman must have caught him off guard by running away—something she had never been brave enough to do, Erika mused.

  Erika started her car and slowly pulled away from the curb.

  Elliott heard the engine and looked in her direction. The rage that had filled his eyes was temporarily replaced by shock.

  Erika paused long enough to make eye contact with him. She wanted her eyes to speak for her this time. He got the message and bowed his head.

  Thank you, God. I'm free.

  Tears showered Erika's cheeks as she uttered the prayer.

  She drove slowly so she could see where the bruised and terrified woman might have gone. Seconds later, Erika found her at the entrance of the subdivision, sitting on a small stone bench surrounded by flowers and shrubs.

  The woman was bent over, hugging herself and weeping.

  Erika was afraid to leave her car, knowing that Elliott was prone to get into his vehicle and come search for one or both of them. She pulled to the side of the road and lowered her window.

  "Mara?"

  The woman raised her tear-streaked face and bruised eyes to Erika's. "How did you know my name?"

  "I'm Erika, Elliott's former wife." A boulder of worries lifted from her shoulders when she uttered those words. Erika felt physically lighter.

  "Let me help you," she told Mara. "Get in the car; I'll take you wherever you want to go."

  Mara walked slowly toward the Lexus and stood at Erika's window.

  "How did you just happen to be here, in this neighborhood, when I needed help? And how do I know I can trust you?"

  Erika wiped her own tear-stained face with the back of her hand and smiled.

  "The best and simplest answer to those questions is 'God.'"

  36

  Christmas in July would have a whole new meaning for Micah and Serena after this week.

  Forget summer sales or early preparations for the official December holiday. For the McDaniels family, it symbolized the love and caring the Richmond community had shown New Hope Community Ministries since word spread about the damaging flood at Stillwell Elementary.

  Five local pastors called Monday morning and offered to let Micah use their churches on Saturdays or late Sunday afternoons to hold New Hope's services. Others invited Micah's congregation to join their members for worship service.

  Most powerful, however, had been a personal visit from Rev. Randy Tolliver, the elderly pastor of Zion Memorial Church, located about five miles south of Stillwell Elementary in South Richmond. He tracked down Micah after viewing Sabrina Shaw's TV segment on the flood and hearing Micah's comments during the piece. Over pancakes at an IHOP not far from his church, Rev. Tolliver had made an unusual request.

  "We want your congregation to take over our church and allow us to blend in with you."

  The Caucasian, white-haired minister and the dark-skinned, brown-eyed Micah gave each other a once-over and laughed heartily. In that instant, Micah knew that whatever this man said, he had a heart for God's people. That was enough to cement a friendship.

  "Well, maybe 'blend' is not the word I'm looking for," Rev. Tolliver followed up. "How about 'merge' with New Hope members?"

  "Why do you want to do this?" Micah asked.

  "I'm seventy years old and I represent the average age of our sixty-member congregation, Rev. McDaniels," he said. "We haven't had new members in years, and we have this beautiful forty-thousand-square-foot church that includes a 600-seat sanctuary, a gym, and a two-story education building that needs to be fille
d with the light and love of Christ.

  "I've seen and heard good things about your ministry for several years now. When I saw you on TV after the flood, God laid it on my heart to call you," Rev. Tolliver said.

  "The deacons and trustees of the church—all five of them—have prayed about this, too. Zion is located in a neighborhood that years ago changed demographics, more fitting with the population you serve."

  Rev. Tolliver didn't sugarcoat reality. "I'll be honest with you. We were the victims of white flight. Those of us who are still well enough to come on Sundays drive in from the suburbs or a nearby retirement home," he said. "But we have no clue about how to serve the growing African American and Hispanic population that surrounds the church.

  "If you have a heart for God and for God's work in the mission field, you have to allow him to do new things in you and through you. This would certainly be a new thing for the silver hairs at Zion, Rev. McDaniels; but if God is giving us this opportunity to open his house of worship to others in the body of Christ, we want to accept it."

  Micah was speechless.

  Rev. Tolliver seemed to understand.

  "The magnitude of God's awesomeness can do that to us, can't it?"

  They left the restaurant with the agreement that for the next six months, New Hope's thousand-plus members would worship and fellowship at Zion Memorial and use all of its facilities as desired. Micah offered to start a specific seniors ministry that could incorporate the needs of Zion's members, on Sundays and throughout the week.

  If the trial period was a success, the two ministers agreed to evaluate from there how to move forward.

  Micah walked Rev. Tolliver to his car and shook his hand. When the older minister drove away, Micah sat in his Jeep, in silence.

  Lord, you never cease to amaze me, he prayed.

  His heavenly Father's reply made him smile.

 

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