by Pat Simmons
These flowers remind me of what you were wearing at the wedding. You’re the perfect shade of dark chocolate. Can’t wait for our date on Saturday, Attorney Shari Carmen.
—Garrett
Now, after a successful morning in court, all Shari wanted to do was to stay holed up in her office and admire the floral arrangement. But she couldn’t keep her sisters from prying. She replied affirmatively to the text, and then, at the designated time, she signed on to her computer. Brecee popped up first, in Houston. Stacy was second, and lastly, Shae joined in the chat from St. Louis.
“Look how you’re smiling!” Brecee exclaimed, the first to jump in.
“I told you she was glowing,” Stacy said smugly.
“He has to be special for you to go out with him,” Shae said.
Shari felt herself blush. “He is.
“Well, details, Mimi!” Brecee demanded, reverting back to her childhood nickname for Sharmaine.
Biting her lip, Shari attempted to gather her thoughts. “I’m scared, excited, and happy. He’s incredibly handsome—even more so than actor Lance Gross. He oozes with so much masculinity that I have to remind myself not to stare too long.”
“Hmm.” Brecee smirked.
“Okay, so he’s good-looking,” Shae said. “I’m sure there’s more to him for you to give him the time of day.”
Shari nodded. “You’re right, Sis. I’m comfortable around him, even though, at the same time, I feel a little unsure. He likes to remind me of everything we have in common, like the tenor sax. We even drive the same make, model, and color car.”
“Get out of here!” Brecee said, crunching on a carrot stick as if she were watching a TV show instead of Shari’s life unfolding before her.
“Somewhere I hear a ‘but’ in there,” Shae coaxed her.
“Very observant, my inquisitive little reporter sister.” Shari smiled. “I do wonder why he isn’t already taken. I mean, it’s evident that he is sincere about his salvation, so why didn’t a sister snag him in Boston? My spirit bears witness that Garrett is secure in his manhood and not a homosexual pretender. I have so many questions….”
“And you will get answers in four days,” Stacy reminded her.
“Yep.” Shari grinned. “Four days, and three hours…and I can’t wait!” Her excitement was contagious as her sisters laughed with her. The conversation then turned to what was going on in the other sisters’ lives, especially with Shae in her new role as weekend anchor in addition to being an investigative reporter for a news station in St. Louis.
When they finally said their good-byes, Shari’s question remained: What was Garrett’s story? Everyone had one. She planned to get answers to all her questions on Saturday.
***
Friday night, Garrett opened his front door and blinked at the group of people standing in the hallway.
“Surprise!” the Miller clan shouted, grinning broadly.
“What are you all doing here?” Garrett asked as his parents, sister, nephew, and grandparents spilled over the threshold into his condo. Although they didn’t need an invitation, apparently, they weren’t waiting on him to issue one.
“To see you, silly.” His sister, Deborah, elbowed him in the side before his nephew wrapped his arms around Garrett’s waist.
Exhibiting his home training, he dispensed kisses, hugs, and handshakes to all. Although he was elated to see his family, the only thing on his mind was spending time with Shari the next day. As a matter of fact, they were fifteen hours away from their date. “How long are you staying?” he asked, hoping not to sound too eager to see them go.
His grandfather appeared to be the only one paying attention to him. Everyone else was exploring his condo.
“The weekend,” Moses said.
Oh, boy. Garrett withheld his groan. What was he going to do? He didn’t want to reschedule his date with Shari. All week, he had sent her reminders via text message to hype up the long-awaited event. On the other hand, he had missed his family so much, and he wanted to spend time with them. He had issued dozens of invitations for his folks to come visit, always boasting that he had a lot of space. But he could hardly host this many people at one time.
“Where’s your luggage?” he asked his grandfather.
“At the hotel. We checked in at the Holiday Inn on Walnut, not far from here. We figured we’d do some sightseeing, take your nephew to this country’s first zoo, and fellowship with you at Jesus Is the Way.”
“Yay!” Jamal jumped up and down until Deborah gave him the look, which made him stand at attention as if he were a soldier like his father, who was deployed in the Middle East.
“How are you doing on food, Son?” his mother asked, finding her way into his kitchen and taking the liberty of opening one cabinet after another. “Tsk. Tsk.” She appeared in the doorway moments later, shaking her head and jamming her hands on her hips. “I’m going to stock you up on some food and home-cooked meals while I’m here.”
“Mom, it’s just me. I don’t need to stock up. I buy food on an as-I-run-out basis. But I certainly won’t turn down a home-cooked meal.”
Like old times. Garrett smirked. But this was not a dorm room at Boston University. Besides cooking breakfast, his meals consisted of takeout from the local deli counters or occasional invites from John and Rita. Garrett would rather eat Subway than accept dinner invitations from most of the sisters at church. That was how he’d met Brittani—at a church function where she had been helping serve the meal. Now, the only person he wanted to have dinner with was Shari.
“I planned to go sightseeing tomorrow with Shari,” Garrett admitted hesitantly.
“Excellent.” Moses beamed. “I can’t wait to see that young lady again.”
“Granddad, G and Shari might want to be alone,” Deborah said, and Garrett nodded his thanks for stating the obvious. Deborah winked back. “We don’t need a tour guide.”
Then Garrett felt a tinge of guilt. His family had driven so far to see him; he couldn’t push them away. Excusing himself, he went into his bedroom and closed the door to call Shari.
She answered in a sweet voice filled with excitement. He explained his dilemma and asked how she would feel about his family tagging along.
“Family is important,” she affirmed. “And you haven’t seen them in months. Spend time with them. We can reschedule anytime.” Her voice was still upbeat, but he could detect an undercurrent of disappointment.
“Come with us,” he insisted. “You’re a local. You can be our tour guide. Plus, my folks think so highly of you.”
But his pleas were to no avail. Garrett threw up an arm in annoyance. “How can I win a case against an attorney?”
“I don’t always win,” she said in a somber tone, which made him wonder if she was referring to her cases or their date. “There are two things in my life that I value more than anything: my close relationship with God and my family. I can’t live without either. So, enjoy your weekend, and we can restart the clock again soon.”
“Let’s reschedule now,” he pressed her.
“Let’s talk about it later in the week,” she countered. “In the meantime, I’m taking precious time away from your family visit. Tell them I said hi, and enjoy.”
Garrett ended the call on a sour note. For the first time that he could remember, family was the last thing he wanted to see. He stepped out of his bedroom and broke the news.
His mother gasped. “Son, we’re so sorry.”
“We can entertain ourselves,” his grandfather offered. “Maybe I can talk to her. She likes me, you know?” He appeared hopeful.
“She still likes me, too, I think.” Shaking his head, Garrett tried to do damage control. “She’s not going to back down.” He took a deep breath to regroup his thoughts, then clapped his hands. “Well, why don’t we get this Miller reunion started?”
Chapter 13
Exhausted after all-day shopping and sightseeing—watching the Liberty 360 3D Show at PECO Theater and visiti
ng the Liberty Bell, the Reading Terminal Market, and finally the Philadelphia Zoo—Garrett and his family returned to his condo early Saturday evening.
His sister, mother, and grandmother washed their hands and pulled out their newly purchased aprons. After a few hours spent in his kitchen, they made good on the promise of a home-cooked meal.
“I sure missed seeing Shari,” his grandfather said between mouthfuls of his dinner.
“Not as much as me.” Garrett didn’t say anything more. He didn’t want to make his family feel any worse than they already did, considering Shari’s name had come up several times during their outing.
“We’re sorry we messed up your date, little brother,” Deborah apologized yet again. “I would have liked the chance to get to know her better.” The other adults nodded in agreement. “My first impression is that she’s stunning but doesn’t flaunt what God gave her to get your attention…like you-know-who.”
“Who, Momma?” Jamal looked up.
“Son…just eat,” she said with a stern expression.
On Sunday morning, everyone was excited about attending Garrett’s new home church. He reminisced about his lifelong membership at Blood Redemption Temple. Despite the warm welcome he’d received at Jesus Is the Way, and his relationships with John, Rita, the pastor, and his fellow band members, he had forgotten how much he missed attending a church where his family served in various positions, as deacons, missionaries, Sunday-school teachers, ushers, and auxiliary presidents. Because of the Millers’ long-standing roots in his former home church, most of the older members had seen no reason why Garrett couldn’t forgive “sweet Brittani” and go ahead and marry her. They based their warped thinking on the precedent of Joseph marrying Mary from the Bible. On more than one occasion, Garret had needed to remind Mother or Sister So-and-so that he was not the father of Brittani’s baby—and neither was the Holy Ghost.
Members of Jesus Is the Way Church greeted Garrett’s family from the front door to the pews, with Garrett making introductions before taking his place in the bandstand. His eyes lingered on Shari before he leaned closer and told her, “Missed you yesterday.” He owed her more apologies and many floral bouquets for canceling on her.
“Next time,” she whispered.
He twisted his mouth. Was she throwing his words back in his face, or did she really want a “next time” as soon as possible, as he did? “I’m looking forward to it,” he finally said. “My folks are looking this way, so you might want to smile.”
She did so without hesitation.
After the praise and worship segment had ended, Pastor Underwood asked that any visitors stand to be acknowledged. “I understand Brother Nash’s family is here today,” he said. “Can we get a representative to speak for the family?”
“Grandpa,” the group decided unanimously.
Moses stepped into the aisle and strolled to the podium. He still had pep in his step as he greeted the ministers in the pulpit before standing behind the microphone. “We are indeed honored today to be in the midst of the saints and in God’s presence. I’m happy to see you’re taking care of my grandson.”
Garrett tried not to blush. Even Shari was clapping.
“I see some familiar faces in the band. My wife and I still talk about how some of the musicians ‘got down’ at our fiftieth wedding anniversary, especially Sister Shari Carmen. That woman can play the sax.”
This time, it was Shari who blushed as she bowed her head at the compliment. Pastor Underwood urged her to stand. Reluctantly, she did, and flashed a wave of her hand before reclaiming her seat. Her skin glowed against the backdrop of the band members’ black and gold uniforms, which coordinated with the choir members’ gold robes.
Once his grandfather had taken his seat again, Pastor Underwood shared the announcements and then opened his Bible. “Please turn with me to James, chapter one, verse four: ‘But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing.’ I like that the King James Version uses the pronoun ‘her’ when it refers to patience. Maybe it’s because women are long-suffering toward their children, sometimes to a fault. They are the grace in the home, while the men—the fathers—dispense the law.” He cited several other examples before continuing on to his next point.
“But we can’t have patience without wisdom. In the Olympic Games, runners have to pace themselves to make it to the finish line. So, the gist of the message today is, whatever you want or need, ask God to settle patience in your heart, and when the timing is right, He will instruct you on how to proceed.”
The rest of the sermon was short and sweet, compared with the lengthy altar call, but it was well worth it. Twelve people made their way to the front—some with hesitation, others trekking with purpose—but they all came. Most requested prayer. Five repented and wanted complete salvation through baptism by water and by Holy Ghost fire in Jesus’ name.
After the emotionally charged baptism segment, and offertory, Pastor Underwood pronounced the benediction. He had barely uttered “Amen” when the Millers filed out of the pew and headed toward the bandstand, intent on seeing Shari. Garrett watched the onslaught with amusement as he stood on the sidelines.
His grandmother had the first word for Shari. “Dear, we’re so sorry we spoiled your plans with Garrett on yesterday. Let us make it up to you. Please be our guest at dinner tonight.”
“Well, I…uh….” Shari glanced at Garrett, looking uncertain.
He feigned a pout, which made her almost smile.
“You’re coming to Uncle G’s for dinner, right?” Jamal prodded her. “You don’t have to worry about his food. Granny Queen cooked,” he whispered, “and her stuff tastes a whole lot better.”
“You’re a regular traitor.” Garrett squeezed Jamal’s shoulder, then looked at Shari. “You are more than welcome. Please join us.” He winked.
***
How could Shari refuse the invitation? She wanted to spend time with Garrett. Plus, she genuinely liked his family. Moses was especially endearing. He had a way of making her feel as if he was in her corner like her own flesh-and-blood grandfather. She suspected he would deal with Garrett if he messed up. So, she grinned as she let Jamal tug her away from the bandstand.
Before leaving the sanctuary, Shari introduced Garrett’s family to her mother and to Stacy and Ted. Her mother seemed to hit it off instantly with the women in his family. Good sign. When Queen recited the dinner menu, Ted licked his lips.
Shari smirked. Her brother-in-law looked as if wanted to raise his hand for an invite. The man was built like a tank. The way he acted when anybody mentioned food, one would think his wife didn’t cook him hearty meals on a regular basis.
“You’re welcome to join us,” Queen said to Stacy and Ted, as if reading Ted’s mind.
“Thank you. Maybe some other time.” Stacy nudged her husband. “You’re supposed to take Mom and me out to dinner, remember?”
He frowned. “I am?”
“You are,” Shari’s mother said, looping her arm through Ted’s. She waved good-bye to Shari and the Millers as she led her son-in-law away.
Stacy winked at Shari, then took off after her mother and husband.
Minutes later, Shari strolled out to the parking lot with Garrett and his family. “Do you mind if I ride with you to G’s condo?” Deborah asked her.
“Absolutely not. I’d enjoy your company,” Shari said as she deactivated her car alarm.
“I guess great minds do think alike. You and Garrett drive the exact same vehicle,” she said as she climbed in the passenger seat. Deborah snapped her seat belt, then faced Shari. “I’m so glad you came into my brother’s life.”
Shari smiled. “Actually, he came into mine.” Yes, Garrett had an irresistible charm about him. Part of his allure was his white smile and the way it contrasted with his serious, dark eyes. And she felt so comfortable around his family, as if she’d always known them.
The two chatted about Philly’s historic sites
and discussed how they compared to Beantown as Shari followed Garrett’s vehicle. Turning off the Schuylkill Expressway, they crossed into Montgomery County, heading for Bala Cynwyd, a trendy area known for upscale retail stores, restaurants, and hotels.
When Shari parked in the visitors’ lot, Deborah thanked her for the ride, then got out and went to join Jamal and the others. Shari sat and stared at the impressive condominium complex. Without stepping one stiletto inside, she guessed that the residences were equipped with lavish amenities that weren’t standard. Suddenly Garrett was outside her door, pulling it open.
“We should grab your saxophone,” he said.
Shari frowned as she inhaled a whiff of his cologne as she got out. “Why would I need it?”
“You never know with my bunch.” Garrett lifted the case out of the backseat, then shut the door, turned to Shari, and scanned her from head to toe, as if he hadn’t seen her minutes earlier. “You are truly beautiful,” he whispered. “I live on the second floor, but let’s take the elevator anyway. It’ll spare your pretty little feet.”
Her eyebrows rose. “You don’t think I can walk straight in these?”
“I never said that.” He grinned and touched her arm, steering her toward the curb.
“Good, because, honey, I have perfected the art of running in three-inch-plus heels, so walking in them is a cinch.”
They boarded the elevator in silence, Garrett carrying both their instruments. When they stopped on the second floor, they stepped out and followed the sounds of his chattering family members down the hall and around the corner to his condo. Garrett unlocked the door and deactivated his security system, then ushered Shari inside.
A series of “wows” escaped her lips as she stood in admiration of the majestic open floor plan and stylish décor. For a man and a newcomer to Philly, he had rare skills—or knew someone who did. The dark mahogany furniture and dark accent walls were a testament to that.
