by Pat Simmons
In Garrett’s mind, Xena was playing a dangerous game. Surely she knew these men were not eligible, available, or Christ-centered. Most of them probably wouldn’t be eligible for parole for decades.
When another mean-looking prisoner joined Calvin in returning Xena’s flirtations, something didn’t feel right within Garrett’s spirit.
“What can you tell me about Jesus, pretty lady? Huh?” he whispered with a smile that quickly transformed into a devious grin.
By the time Xena sensed that something was wrong, it was too late. She tried to back away from the man as he approached. However, the sisters standing behind her, oblivious to the potential danger, didn’t budge. In a flash, Calvin whipped out a long piece of cloth and tied her wrists. Garrett realized that Xena was about to be assaulted before this eyes. He moved with lightning speed to intervene, only to have Shari get in his way.
With strength he hadn’t known she possessed, Shari shoved Calvin with her fist as she called on the name of Jesus. Startled, Calvin fell back, and two guards stepped in to restrain him.
A buff prisoner twice as big as Calvin grabbed Shari from behind. “Oh, baby, you want some, too?”
As one of the guards triggered the alarm to summon more help, Garrett put all his strength into his fist as it connected with the man’s face. The jab didn’t faze him. Laughing, he twisted Shari’s arm. When she cried out in pain, the saints began to pray. Xena wept.
Garrett readied himself to deliver another hit, but before he could do so, several correctional officers rushed in and tased the inmate. Weakened by the electrical shock, he loosened his grip but didn’t let go of Shari. With another jolt from the Taser, the inmate released Shari, and she staggered away.
Garrett caught her and helped her regain stability. “You okay?”
She grimaced as she rubbed her arm, but she nodded yes. The shock on her face faded quickly.
“Why did you do that? You knew you were no match for that criminal.” Garrett tried to keep his voice steady.
Protecting judges and hunting down dangerous fugitives was part of this job, but this was the first time he’d actually been afraid—not for himself but for Shari.
“Xena would’ve been raped before our group knew what was going on. Jesus said, ‘Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.’”
“I’m familiar with John fifteen, verse thirteen. But don’t you ever try that stunt again.” He frowned. “I mean it.” Whoa. Calm down, he coaxed himself. Who was he to chasten Shari? Still, prison was the devil’s sanctuary, and God’s soldiers had to constantly be on watch. “Promise me.”
I promise, she mouthed.
Garrett exhaled a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
“Thank God for His intervention,” said Minister Wells, putting an arm around Xena’s shoulder. “Now, saints, let’s do the job God called us to do.” Xena still appeared to be shaken as everyone started shuffling into the chapel, singing “He Wants It All.”
Garrett rubbed Shari’s arm and squeezed her hand as they bought up the rear. Despite the fray that had just occurred outside the chapel, the men inside seemed eager to hear testimonies, to join in the singing, and to hear a short sermon within the two-hour time period the team was allotted.
At the altar call, one of the inmates, the grandson of a member at Jesus Is the Way Church, who had been incarcerated for drug possession and distribution, walked down the aisle to be reclaimed by God. His humble display of submission sparked three other inmates to seek salvation. They were baptized in Jesus’ name, and two of them received the Holy Ghost, with the evidence of speaking in unknown tongues.
On the ride back to the church, Minister Wells instructed Xena to sit up front with him and his wife. Instead of giving her a tongue-lashing for provoking the prisoners, he simply told her and the rest of the team, “Good job.”
Not waiting for an invitation, Garrett had snagged the seat next to Shari. Surprisingly, she had scooted close to him until their shoulders touched, which seemed to awaken every sensory in his body.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked her, thinking of the twofold nature of his question. He wanted to know how she was physically, after her contact with the inmate at the prison, as well as how she was emotionally, now that she had the faintest contact with him.
“Yes,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you for being here.”
“I’m supposed to be here.” Garrett wanted to say something more, like “God sent me here for you,” but it didn’t seem to be the time or the place.
She gave him a soft smile, then looked out the window until she began to doze. Before long, her head had found its way to his shoulder. He couldn’t believe how right that felt as he relaxed and began to drift off, as well.
Chapter 9
You did what?” Shari cast a suspicious look at Faith. They were at the church on a Thursday night for the first of two wedding rehearsals that Faith had insisted she needed because of the size of the affair. “And when did you decide to invite Brother Garrett to play along with me at your wedding? I thought I was doing a solo.”
Her older sister’s words from the other day came rushing to her mind. Stacy had warned her that if God intended Garrett for her, the more she pushed him away, the closer he would get. “Do you think his showing up at the courtroom and then taking you to lunch was a coincidence? Maybe, but sitting behind you at Bible class and being on the prison ministry team—now that is deliberate.”
Even Ted had added his input to the conversation. “You’re a marked woman,” he’d said. “I believe that brother is serious.”
Now Shari wondered if Garrett’s participation in her best friend’s wedding ceremony was another strategic move on which he and Faith were in cahoots.
Faith grinned. “Well, I got to thinking….”
“Which is so you—and very scary, I might add.” Shari folded her arms and dared her friend to deny it. Faith embraced spontaneity and adventure—neither of which appealed to Shari. It seemed that even in friendships, opposites attracted.
“Who knows?” Faith shrugged. “Maybe you’ll thank me someday. But when you mentioned that Brother Nash took you out to lunch, and I thought about the show you two put on at his grandparents’ shindig, I thought, why not add him to the program? So, I asked, and he said yes!”
Shari rolled her eyes at her friend’s deliberate play on a phrase commonly associated with marriage proposals. “It was an accidental meeting and an impromptu lunch—nothing more. Definitely not a date.”
Faith snickered. “Not to mention Wednesday night escorts to the car and prison ministry trips together…. Chance meetings are what great romances are made of! You know that’s how Trask and I met—at that baseball game I hadn’t planned to attend—”
“I was there, remember?” Shari said, cutting her off. “But you already had a secret crush on him. Will you stop keeping tabs on me?” Shari waved her hand in the air. Define “romance,” she thought. Would she ever hear the words “I love you”? Feel the warm embrace of a soul mate? Experience the intoxication of a kiss? “What are you, anyway, an aide to Mother Stillwell or Team John and Rita?”
Faith giggled. “Neither. I’m just happy when I see others happy, especially my best friend.” Just then Faith turned her attention to the wedding planner, who was approaching them.
“Right,” Shari mumbled.
So, it was for Faith’s happiness that she carried her saxophone case into the sanctuary. Garrett was already in the bandstand, adjusting his tenor sax. Taking a deep breath, Shari continued down the side aisle. She smiled at those in the wedding party she knew and nodded at those she didn’t.
Shari had been a bridesmaid only once, at Stacy’s wedding. The Carmen sisters had made a silly childhood pact that they would be bridesmaids only in one another’s nuptials because theirs was a sisterhood like no other. Stacy had honored that vow when friends had asked her to be a bridesmaid in their weddings, and so, wh
en Faith had asked Shari to be her maid of honor, Shari had graciously declined, instead volunteering to do anything else she could that would make the day memorable. Faith had asked her to play a selection at the ceremony and then supervise the gift table at the reception. That had seemed a simple enough request—until Faith had gone and complicated things for her “happiness.”
Shari was almost to the altar when she heard a man whisper, “Ooh, she’s pretty—for a dark-skinned girl.”
The insult, poorly disguised as a compliment, made her lift her chin higher to mask the hurt that threatened to sink her heart. She was a career-success story, and that was what she always fell back on when someone tried to rattle her self-esteem. Never let them see you sweat. That was the phrase her father and two cousins, Dino and Victor, had drilled into her.
How many times would her beauty be defined by the hue of her skin? Even in this so-called modern age, skin was a deciding factor in so many situations, especially within the justice system. But winning cases didn’t empower her nearly as much as the video clip of actress Lupita Nyong’o’s speech at the Essence magazine luncheon.
Lupita had openly confessed that, as a child, she had prayed for white skin in order to be beautiful and accepted. She had finally embraced her dark skin before winning an Oscar for Best Supporting Actress for her role in the film 12 Years a Slave and before People magazine had named her World’s Most Beautiful Woman. Those were victories that couldn’t be won in the courtroom—the acknowledgment of dark and beautiful sisters.
Shari lifted her chin even higher as she placed one foot on the first step to the pulpit. Garrett was there to extend a hand and assist her up the remaining stairs. His grip was strong but gentle. She whispered her thanks, then set her saxophone case on a chair.
“You look pretty,” Garrett said softly.
Still distracted by the earlier comment, Shari glanced up and looked into his eyes. Sincerity stared back at her. She mustered a smile. “Thanks.” I needed to hear that. She couldn’t help but wonder if Garrett thought that she looked pretty “for a dark girl,” too.
After taking her seat, Shari found herself staring in the direction of the offender. How could she be beautiful in one man’s eyes and almost attractive in another’s?
Favor is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but fear Me, and you shall be praised. The Lord whispered Proverbs 31:30.
Thank You, Jesus, Shari’s soul whispered, strengthened by the Word of God.
“Ladies and gentlemen, let’s get started,” the wedding coordinator spoke into the cordless mic as she marched down the aisle like a staff sergeant.
As Shari watched the groomsmen practice escorting the bridesmaids with synchronized steps, she felt a sense of longing. Would she ever be the one whose wedding was being rehearsed? According to her younger sisters, Shae and Brecee, she was supposed to be next, since Ted had taken their oldest sister off the market. That was easier said than done. Shari had yet to meet a man who would break down all her defenses to love, although every time Garrett was near, he gave her a glimpse of hope that love would find her.
When the coordinator called for the instrumental duet, Shari snapped out of her whimsical musings. Garrett was about to assist her to her feet, but Shari stood on her own. In sync, they began to play Antwaun Stanley’s “By Your Side.” Cued by the coordinator, Shari lowered her sax and sang to serenade Faith and Trask at the altar. Garrett didn’t miss a beat, following her notes high and low on the musical scale.
Once their duet had ended and they’d taken their seats, Garrett leaned over and whispered, “You are perfect, you know that?”
At that very moment, she didn’t feel that way. But his glance, his statement, and his cologne mesmerized her to the point that she couldn’t even respond. Meanwhile, somewhere deep within her, an alter ego reared its head and shouted to the insulting man in the audience, “Take that, dude!”
She would never admit it to Faith, but her friend had done a good job pairing her up without even making her a bridesmaid. Shari couldn’t wait for the second rehearsal next Friday night.
Chapter 10
Compliments seemed to surprise Shari—at least, that was Garrett’s take. He had every intention to talk with her privately after the wedding rehearsal was over, but she packed up and slipped away without a good-bye while Garrett was speaking with a deacon. The brief moments they had shared that evening had been a mere tease.
At home later that night, Garrett studied the Word of God, then slid to his knees to pray before climbing in bed. Before he said “Amen,” Jesus dropped Brittani into his heart, so Garrett earnestly petitioned God on her behalf. After experiencing so many emotions—hurt, bitterness, and even hatred—he could finally say with honesty that God had given him peace about what had happened.
His thoughts turned to Shari. “Jesus, I’m starting to care about her, not because You told me she’s Your heart’s desire for me but because she’s becoming my heart’s desire. You alone know what caused the light to dim in her eyes tonight, and only You know how to comfort her. Bless her, Jesus….”
I will accomplish all things I speak, God whispered from Isaiah 55:11.
With that reassurance, Garrett said “Amen” and got in bed.
A few days later, Shari made her first appearance at band practice since Garrett’s return from his trip to Boston, and he felt starstruck. Her presence seemed to usher in an air of sweetness. Throughout the rehearsal, she was on key for every song, as if she hadn’t been missing in action for more than a month.
At the Sunday service the following day, the Spirit stirred seven souls to repent and be baptized in Jesus’ name at the conclusion of the sermon. Seconds after Pastor Underwood had given the benediction, Shari was making her way out of the bandstand. It was amazing to Garrett how a person so close—seated only two chairs away from him—could seem always just out of reach.
Garrett scanned the sanctuary, hoping to see where she’d gone, but the crowd had already swallowed her up as people greeted one another. “Not today,” he mumbled to himself. He packed up his instrument quickly, refusing to partake in the conversations around him.
Finally he spotted Shari by the back doors. His jaw clenched when he witnessed two men he had never seen hugging her. He flinched when it appeared she was enjoying it. With determined steps, he headed toward the group to break up the cozy gathering. The more Shari eluded him, the more he desired her.
Right now, Shari exhibited yet another side of her personality besides her boldness in the courtroom and shyness at church. She seemed relaxed as she smiled and laughed. Her sister Stacy, along with her husband, Ted, were also snickering. He counted five times that Shari’s slender fingers touched the arm of one of the men who had embraced her. Garrett quickened his steps before she could do it a sixth time. Too late. Why couldn’t she keep her hands off the guy?
As if they sensed his presence on the outskirts of their cluster, the group ceased their conversation. All except for Shari’s mother wore duplicate frowns at his impending interruption.
“Praise the Lord, Brother Nash.” Annette Carmen smiled. “Meet my handsome nephews. This is Dino.” She tilted her head toward one of the young men, who kept a straight face as he nodded his greeting. “And this hunk is his older brother, Victor. They fellowship at Greater Bethel Church of Christ, but they drop by every now and then to check up on us.”
Family. Garrett exhaled, relieved that his fears of competition had been unwarranted. Once he let down his guard, he finally noticed the resemblance. Actually, the two could have passed as Shari’s brothers because of their dark, wavy hair—gorgeous on a woman but too pretty-boy on a man, for Garrett’s taste—and their rich brown skin. The Carmens must have some strong genes, he thought.
When Victor extended his hand, Garrett pumped it as they sized each other up. Victor was about the same height as Garrett, only thicker. That didn’t matter. Garrett was trained as a Deputy U.S. Marshal, and muscle had its benefit. He squeezed the man’s ha
nd like he was making fresh orange juice.
“Stop it,” Annette demanded of her nephew, unaware that it was Garrett who had the upper hand—literally.
Ted stood on the sidelines, hands shoved inside his pockets. “I need my hands to eat.”
Good choice, Garrett thought as the group chuckled. “I’d like to speak with Shari for a few moments, if that’s okay.” Without giving her time to consent, he cupped her elbow and almost dragged her a few feet away. Once he had her attention, Garrett gazed at her appreciatively. “Have dinner with me…today.” He didn’t want to make plans for a date; he wanted her now. His grandfather had already ribbed him about him moving too slow with Shari, warning him that another man would soon step up to the plate.
He doubted his grandfather had been hinting at the situation with Brittani, but that was what it made him think about.
“I’m sorry. I can’t.” Shari gave him a slight pout, as if she was also disappointed.
Garrett kept his reaction in check. She owed him more than just a simple no. Folding his arms across his chest, he stared at her expectantly, waiting for an explanation.
She glanced around, appearing uncomfortable. “Uh, sorry. My family is going out to celebrate my uncle’s birthday.”
If it was the Miller family, Shari would definitely be extended an invitation. Evidently, Garrett’s being included as a guest wasn’t going to play out here. “I’m looking for a commitment from you that you and me”—he pointed between them—“will happen. A dinner, a movie, a concert…you name it. Next time, then.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Next time?”
“There will always be a next time with us. Please tell your uncle happy birthday.” Garrett turned and walked away, with every step devising another plan to woo her.
The following Friday night, before Faith and Trask’s wedding, Garrett’s jaw dropped at his first glimpse of Shari. She was stunning in a dress that hugged her curves, and its color—orange, coral, or peach, or whatever it was called—never looked better on a woman with rich dark skin. Any woman who wanted to duplicate the effect would have to subject herself to a lot of sunbathing.
