Lead Me Home

by Stacy Hawkins Adams

  Lia broke the silence that had engulfed the room by clearing her throat and standing. “Um, Lem and I are going to go outside for a walk, if that’s okay,” she said.

  Marian nodded. “Don’t go too far, Lia. Stay near the perimeter of the property, where someone can still see you.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  When they were gone, Marian retrieved the tray of tea from the coffee table. “I’m going to go and refresh our beverages.” She looked at Mama. “Want to join me?”

  Mama leapt from the sofa. “Be happy to.”

  When the mothers were gone, Shiloh and Leslie stared at one another for the longest time without speaking. Shiloh saw hurt, envy, pain, sadness, anger, and regret in her former friend’s eyes, and it made her want to cry.

  “Leslie, I am truly sorry for my part in bringing your life to this point—I can’t tell you how much I regret what I did. I’ve lived with the guilt and shame of it all these years, and I should have found you and told you long before now. I have no excuse. I. Am. So. Very. Sorry.”

  Shiloh didn’t think she had any tears left, but the waterfall erupted and she couldn’t control it. She wept into her hands, not for herself but for Leslie. She wanted Leslie to forgive her, not for her own selfish reasons anymore, but so that Leslie herself would be free. She wanted Leslie to stand in whatever her truths were, and she wanted to help her.

  Shiloh knew she had to pull herself together before she could do anything. She dug around in her purse and found a tissue. She wiped her eyes, blew her nose, and took a long, deep breath. She looked up at Leslie, who had been watching her this whole time, without moving. Her eyes still held contempt and anger.

  “I know I can’t turn back time or do anything to restore to you what you fully deserve, Leslie, but I’ll tell you this: You have a beautiful daughter who loves you, and who needs you. You have parents who seem to love you. I sense … have you not told them about the abuse you shared with me?”

  Leslie looked away.

  “Ah, I see …” Shiloh wanted to reach out and grasp Leslie’s hand, but she knew Leslie wasn’t ready. “I’ve spent the past week spilling my guts, telling my family about the sin I committed against you, and about some other pretty terrible things I did, and it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But you know what, Leslie? Telling them freed me. Freed me to forgive myself. And to come here today and apologize, like I should have done all those years ago.

  “I need to tell you what I didn’t have the maturity or the knowledge to tell you way back then, but what happened to you wasn’t your fault. You were a young girl, and you didn’t do anything wrong. You have to forgive yourself for being young and vulnerable. Grant yourself some grace. And if you have the courage—no, when you gather your strength and courage—you have to speak your truth. I can tell you from experience it will heal your heart, Leslie.”

  Leslie looked at Shiloh as if she were confused. “It’s not too late for all of that?”

  “Of course not,” Shiloh said. “If you think it’s too late, why are you in rehab? It’s never too late, as long as you have breath in your body. Every day you awake is another chance to let Lia know you love her, and you’re here for her.”

  Leslie sat up straighter, and she looked past Shiloh. Shiloh turned to see what had captured her attention, and caught herself before she gasped. It was a photo of a years-younger Leslie seated next to an older man who resembled her father. Her parents stood behind the two of them, smiling.

  “Every time I come here to visit, I have to see that picture, and it makes me sick,” Leslie whispered.

  Shiloh turned and faced her again. “It’s not the photo that’s making you sick, Leslie. It’s the secret you’re harboring about the man in the photo. Have you told your therapist, or your counselors at rehab? Until you do, you will never truly be able to heal. You have to take care of Leslie, and those around you will eventually come around.”

  “It sounds so easy, but it’s complicated.”

  Shiloh nodded, and this time, she did make a move. She left the sofa she sat on and perched on Leslie’s, so she could grasp her hand. “If you want me to tell your parents that part of your story, at least in the context of what happened between us at Birmingham-Southern, I’m willing to do that.”

  Shiloh’s heart was beating wildly. She hadn’t come here to get entangled in Leslie’s affairs, but she could see Leslie struggling, and a sliver of a breakthrough on the horizon. She’d be just as guilty as she was last time if she left her hanging on the precipice today, without offering to serve as her safety net. But Leslie shook her head, and looked into Shiloh’s eyes.

  “You know, you always were special. You cared more than normal. You gave more than anyone else. You didn’t mind showing and sharing your heart. I think that’s why when you betrayed me like you did, I let it slide. Something in me believed that if you, of all people, had been desperate enough to stoop that low, you must have had a need greater than mine. That’s why I didn’t report you, Shiloh. And in some sick way, I rationalized that this had happened between us because you were better than me anyway—kinder, smarter, more giving—and I was too weak to tell my grandfather no, and to tell on him. You didn’t drive me to the streets—my own cowardice did, and my desire to forget everything and drown out the pain.”

  Shiloh didn’t know what to say, so she simply responded with a hug. She held Leslie in her arms for a long time, and Leslie didn’t resist. At some point, she rested her head on Shiloh’s shoulder.

  “I’m going back to the rehab center tomorrow,” Leslie said, her voice muffled by Shiloh’s thick sweater. “My counselor there is wonderful. She’ll be the first person, besides you, to learn the truth. We’ll see what happens from there.”

  Two hours later, when Shiloh, her mother, and Lem were preparing to head back to Atchity, Leslie reached for her, to give her a hug.

  “I don’t know what’s going to happen—if I’ll be able to be successful after rehab this time or not, but thank you for coming, and for helping me see some things today,” she said. “I forgive you, Shiloh. Now I have to figure out how to forgive myself, so I can ask my daughter, and my parents, to forgive me too.”

  Shiloh pulled away and looked into her eyes.

  “The biggest lesson I’ve learned over the past few months—including in the past few days, Leslie, is the power of standing in your truth. You have to do that for you, and to teach Lia how to do the same. That’s what will bring you back home—to your family and to yourself, whoever you want yourself to be in the here and now.”

  Leslie nodded.

  “Thanks for the challenge. I think I’m ready this time. I’m going to give it my all.”

  On the ride home, Shiloh, Mama, and Lem immersed themselves in their thoughts. When they reached the Wilson home, Shiloh had to wake Lem and send him to the guest room he was sharing with his brothers.

  Mama walked toward the house with Shiloh, but stopped her before she entered.

  “Thank you for letting me come along, Shiloh, and for allowing me to share this journey to healing with you,” Mama said. “You are an amazing woman, and I’m honored to be your mother.”

  Shiloh leaned down and clung to Mama.

  “Don’t buy me anything for Christmas this year. You just gave me my gift.”

  seventy-four

  Now that Thanksgiving was behind them, the nation was barreling toward Christmas. Shiloh, Randy, and the boys saw signs of the commercial emphasis on the holiday throughout the route back to Milwaukee.

  Even so, instead of using the drive time to plan for the holiday and the gifts she needed to buy, Shiloh spent it pondering how far she had come this year and how everything she’d experienced had been life-changing. And with Daddy’s request of Randy, she sensed more changes were on the way.

  “What are you thinking about Daddy’s plea for you to come back to Atchity?”

  Randy didn’t answer for so long, Shiloh thought he hadn’t heard her.

  �
��I’m waiting to see what God says,” he finally responded, and glanced at her. “How do you feel about it?”

  Shiloh shrugged. “It’s funny how I’m just getting settled in Milwaukee, making friends in and out of church, developing a bond with Jade, preparing to return to school and get my teaching license, and now this. Makes me wonder what God is doing. I feel like we have a solid ministry in Milwaukee. We’re helping people, the church is growing, I’m mentoring Monica … and yet, home is home. We’d be there to help Mama and Daddy as they get older, you know the congregation at Riverview Baptist and they love you, and as senior pastor, you could implement some of the things you’re already doing in Milwaukee. I agree that we need to pray about it; God may have to reveal the answer on this one.”

  Randy nodded. “A year ago, I would have readily and immediately said yes to your dad; but we are in a position now to elevate St. Stephens Baptist to new heights. The members are engaged, and even Jade and Vic are on board, working alongside us rather than with a different agenda. God is up to something; I just don’t know what or where he really wants me—at least not yet. I’ve already asked, though, and I know the answer will come.”

  Shiloh reached for his hand. “I’m with you, wherever he plants us.”

  “Sounds good to me, babe. Team Griffin, at God’s beck and call.”

  By the time they reached home, it was Saturday morning. They had arrived in time for Randy to prepare his Sunday sermon, but they were exhausted. After helping unload the car, the boys scattered in various directions—Lem went to his room to video chat with Lia; Omari and Raphael climbed into bed and went back to sleep; and David, happy to have the TV to himself, turned to one of the cartoon channels that showed all of his favorite action shows and relaxed on the sofa. Shiloh made sure he was comfortable before curling up in the chair across the room from him and dozing off; unpacking the suitcases and washing the dirty laundry could wait.

  Two hours later, she woke up refreshed, and headed up to her bedroom to start on the tasks she had deferred. Randy was stretched across the bed, snoring lightly. Shiloh giggled and checked the clock. She’d let him sleep two more hours if he needed, then she’d wake him to see if he wanted to get started on his sermon.

  The doorbell rang as she was loading the whites in the washer, and it took her a few minutes to answer. Already breathless when she reached it and pulled it open, she was speechless when she saw the beautiful spray of flowers the deliveryman held.

  “Shiloh Griffin?”

  “Yes, that’s me.”

  “Special delivery for you, ma’am. Please sign here.”

  Shiloh frowned, but complied. Who had taken the time to send her flowers? Randy usually did so once or twice a year, but it wasn’t her birthday or their anniversary today. After signing for flowers and wrapping her arms around the oversized bouquet, she kicked the door closed with her foot and headed to the kitchen. She set the glass vase on the table and reached for the card.

  “Thank you. For everything. I’m on a journey, and my head is in the game. Will keep you posted. Leslie.”

  Shiloh sat on the chair and sighed. As Daddy would say, God was still in the miracle-working business. She bowed her head and uttered a prayer for her college friend. Help her father. Show her the way. Let her forgive, and shed her secrets. Let her live, really live, Lord, to your honor, and for the benefit of her entire family, especially her parents and her daughter. Amen.

  Shiloh finished the laundry, started dinner, and was reading a magazine when Randy strolled into the family room and laid his head on her shoulder.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be in your study, working on tomorrow’s sermon?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Normally, yeah. But Vic and Jade are back in town. He sent me a text and asked if he could preach tomorrow—part two of a message he started a few Sundays ago when he preached. Says he thinks it’s fitting for the weekend after Thanksgiving. If he’s ready and willing with a word that can bless the members and visitors, so be it.”

  Shiloh couldn’t believe her ears. This was a first. He considered it a tradition to preach holiday weekend sermons. She wondered if he had relented so easily because of travel fatigue.

  “We’re still going to worship service, though, right?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it. We’ll see what God says tomorrow. I’m going back to bed.”

  seventy-five

  “Tomorrow” came quickly for all of them.

  Shiloh spent the morning nagging the boys to shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, and pile into the van so they could make it to Sunday school. Randy had already left to attend the eight a.m. service. They somehow made it on time for Sunday school at nine forty-five, and Shiloh was surprised to see Jade, Naima, and Nicholas there as well.

  “Yes—there’s a first time for everything,” Jade said and laughed. “Nicholas is two and I’m finally getting into a routine on Sunday mornings that actually works for getting both kids ready and out of the door on time. So here we are.”

  Shiloh chuckled. “I hope it didn’t require as much yelling, threatening, and cajoling as it did in my house this morning, with four boys well past their babyhood, and with my youngest easing out of elementary school. How was your Thanksgiving?”

  Jade shared that the family’s brief visit to her mom and stepdad’s place in California had been wonderful. They returned late Friday, and on Saturday had enjoyed a second Thanksgiving feast with Vic’s family.

  “Usually I’m the butt of all the cooking jokes since I show up with something very simple, like cookies or cupcakes,” Jade said. “But this year, the Mrs. Wisconsin pageant and all the notoriety surrounding my advocacy for hearing aids caused them to cut me some slack. Thank God for our nation’s obsession with celebrity!”

  Shiloh swatted her arm. “Don’t start praying for foolish stuff, now. You’ve been doing well.”

  Both women laughed and wound up in Randy’s study, where they played catch-up on the past week in each other’s lives. When Shiloh glanced at the clock and saw it was nearly eleven a.m., she stood and stretched.

  “Service will start shortly,” she told Jade. “Do you need to get Naima?”

  Jade shook her head. “She’s with her little friends. Their teacher will lead them to the sanctuary and probably sit near them to keep them quiet during service.”

  “Charlene is really great with them, isn’t she?” Shiloh asked. She was a fairly new member, but she had jumped right in and started helping out however she could around the church.

  They left Randy’s office and headed to the sanctuary. When they entered and were near the front of the church, Shiloh felt a tap on her left shoulder. She turned and was greeted with the look that had caught her eye on her first day of teaching: petite little Monica wearing a mile-high afro. Shiloh grinned and hugged the girl.

  “It sooo good to see you, my friend. I hope you had a nice Thanksgiving.”

  Before Monica could respond, there was a tap on Shiloh’s right shoulder.

  “Don’t I get one, too?”

  Shiloh turned toward Phaedra. “My other band student baby! Come here!”

  She enveloped both of them in a hug, and asked them to sit with her and Jade during the service. Eleanor, Monica’s grandmother, was watching the lovefest from across the sanctuary, and she waved and blew Shiloh a kiss, which Shiloh reciprocated.

  Jade and Shiloh sat shoulder to shoulder when service began, and Monica flanked her on the other side, with Phaedra next to her. The choir launched into a familiar gospel tune, and Shiloh’s head nearly did a 360-degree turn on her neck when Monica began belting out the words with fervor in a beautiful soprano.

  Monica’s voice was so moving that her flute playing almost paled in comparison. Yet she wanted to go on and become a professional flutist. Shiloh was perplexed, and knew she’d have to get answers later.

  When it was time for the sermon, Randy stood in the pulpit and explained that Reverend Vic would be preaching this morning instead of him. />
  “He’s got a word for us today,” Randy bellowed. “Prepare your hearts and minds to be fed!”

  And fed they were, by Vic’s message of thanksgiving, redemption, and purpose in the midst of trials.

  “If you want to have a story of victory, you have to go through the beginning, the middle, and the end,” Vic declared. “Stopping before you get started well gives you little to work with. Stopping in the middle, just after the crisis point, means you’re only halfway through. You have to resolve the conflicts and journey on to the end. But you can’t just go through, you have to come out on the other side, maybe bloodied, but not bowed. Maybe messy and less than perfect, but still standing, still fighting for the Lord, still ready to give him your heart and receive his grace!”

  By the time he was done, twenty-four people had come forward to join St. Stephens Baptist or to rededicate their lives to Christ. When Monica stirred next to Shiloh and stood to make her way to the front, Shiloh was surprised. Monica patted her hand and smiled, but kept going. When she reached the front, Reverend Vic seemed puzzled too, knowing that she and her family had joined the church just a few months earlier.

  Sitting in her usual seat, on the second row of pews, kept Shiloh from seeing the congregation’s perspective on this outpouring of connection to God this morning, but she knew some of the ladies who had murmured about sweet Monica in the Wednesday Bible study in recent weeks were likely making comments now about her decision to rededicate her life to God, so soon after joining church in the first place. But instead of joining the group of men, women, and children who had come forward to join St. Stephens Baptist, or the group that was rededicating their lives, she whispered in Reverend Vic’s ear. He paused, as if contemplating how to respond, then nodded, giving his consent to whatever her request had been.