by Pat Simmons
I will bless you, God whispered.
She loved it when the Lord spoke to her. She waited to see if He would say more, but He didn’t.
She checked the clock to make sure it wasn’t too late to call Stacy at home. Confident that her older sister would still be awake, she gave her a buzz.
“Hello?” her brother-in-law answered after the first ring.
“Hey, Ted. It’s Shari. What are you guys doing?”
“If I told you, you’d blush. Seriously, hold on.”
When she heard Stacy’s giggles, Shari did blush. Stacy and “Theodore,” his formal name he now detested, had grown up attending the same school, but Stacy basically hadn’t known he existed until he came home from college. He had matured from a buck-toothed worrywart to a handsome, confident man. And for the past five years, they had been carefree lovebirds, committed to a happy marriage.
“Praise Him, my favorite sister,” Stacy said when she came on the line. She sounded unusually upbeat. “How was the dinner date?”
Shari smirked. Every Carmen sister was Stacy’s favorite. “The date and dinner happened here at home.”
“Well, that wasn’t very original or romantic,” Stacy commented dryly. “I’m disappointed. He comes across as a type who would try to impress a woman.”
“Oh, Garrett did impress. He prayed for me, fed me, and then—”
“Ouch!” There was a pause as Stacy muffled the phone, and then she came back on the line. “Uh, Sis? Can you hold the details until tomorrow? Ted just ran our—I mean, my bathwater.” She cleared her throat.
The couple’s antics amused Shari, but their deep love for each other also made her wonder how close she was to having someone to call her husband. “Okay,” she said. “Talk to you—” She looked at the screen of her cell phone and chuckled. Her sister had already ended the call.
Days later, Shari strolled into her office after a crazy morning in court to find a box on her desk. She didn’t try to contain her smile as she fumbled to open the card tied to it with ribbon.
I’ve washed many feet during many consecration services, but yours were by far the most beautiful—not just perfectly shaped but spiritually created for the path of God’s work. Always thinking about you.
G
She opened the box to discover a smaller one packaged in gift wrap. Shari peeled back the foil and sucked in her breath as she fingered the miniature black velvet-covered stiletto shoe sprinkled with tiny rhinestones. The figurine was so beautiful, she wished she had a look-alike pair in her closet.
Shari’s heart fluttered. Just like the man, his gift was unforgettable. She texted him to express her gratitude.
His response arrived several hours later: Thank you for coming into my life.
When they found a chance to talk, the first thing Shari asked him was, “Were you trying to tell me something by the shoe?”
“I’m pleading the fifth, Counselor.”
“I have my ways to find the truth.”
Their conversation was cut short when Garrett had to go. What he described as a “hit” would always be a police raid to her.
Although Shari preferred to settle cases out of court, she wanted to represent her clients in the courtroom in hopes of catching a glimpse of Garrett in uniform. But she had her work cut out for her with her newest client—a sixteen-year-old male who had happened to be riding in the backseat of a stolen car used in an armed robbery.
Cases involving being in the wrong place at the wrong time were always tough to defend because they required convincing the judge and/or jury of the innocent mind-set of the client at the time of the incident. Meanwhile, all that the prosecution had to do was prove that the defendant knew, or should have known, that the car was stolen, in this instance. After two days in court, the jury sided with her client, and Shari praised God for the victory.
On Tuesday, she couldn’t wait to see Garrett at Bible class that evening, so she texted him right away to share the good news.
“To celebrate, how about dinner and a movie on Friday?” Garrett suggested as they strolled hand in hand to his SUV after Bible class.
“I can’t.” Shari sulked. “I’m the guest speaker at a Pretty Brown Girl Club meeting.”
“A what?” He stopped mid-stride and faced her. “Is this an exclusive club for beautiful black women?” His eyes sparkled as he teased her.
Tilting her head, Shari thought about his question. “I guess it is. The Pretty Brown Girl Club is a national organization. For the past couple of years, their focus has been to encourage school-age girls to be comfortable in their own brown skin, regardless of the shade.”
“Were you ever uncomfortable in your beautiful brown skin?” His voice was barely a whisper.
I still am, at times, she thought, recalling a recent event. Rumors had begun to circulate at church that she and Garrett were a couple, and some sisters seemed mystified that he was interested in her. Shari had been like a fly on a wall one Sunday in a bathroom stall when she’d overheard two sisters talking.
“Shari has the hair and the body, but I’m surprised he’s attracted to her. She’s so dark. Can you imagine her kids?” one sister said.
“Maybe it’s because she makes a lot of money. In the end, dark-skinned brothers go for the white or light-skinned sisters,” the other offered her take before the two exited the restroom.
Why did it always come down to skin color? White men were attracted to black women, as were men of other races. Regardless of the disparaging comments, she was comfortable in her skin—most of the time. She could have confronted those women with her attorney persona, but what would that have accomplished? Only God could change their hearts.
Shari bowed her head and swallowed before meeting his eyes. “Yes,” she finally admitted to Garrett. “That’s why it’s important to build self-confidence in girls while they’re young, so they will make good choices in life from careers to positive relationships.”
“Well, I’m glad God gave you your confidence. You are something else, woman. You wow me with your obvious commitment to God. And your humble shyness is sweet and refreshing.”
She felt that her confidence stemmed mostly from her success as an attorney and was magnified in the courtroom. Little did most people know that, deep down inside, she hadn’t felt pretty all the time as a young girl—not when almost every commercial on television used white women as the standard of beauty. Any African-American women who were featured on TV and in print were so fair-skinned that a person might question their ethnicity. Shari cleared her throat. “I was Daddy’s little girl, and he played a major role in helping me to understand my self-worth.”
“Well, Miss Carmen—or should I say Attorney Carmen?—I know your worth to me.”
His voice—or maybe it was the way he said the words—convinced her she was falling in love. The thought both scared and excited her.
***
On Friday night, Garrett opted to stay at home while Shari spoke to a bunch of girls at the meeting of the local chapter of the Pretty Brown Girl Club. He couldn’t help but wonder who had rocked her self-confidence—and when and how. Had she been overweight as a child? Had she worn braces or suffered from severe acne? All Garrett could imagine was a gorgeous chocolate baby doll with eyes the color of brown marbles that reflected the sunlight and chubby cheeks that invited endless kisses. With each moment he spent with her, he craved more of her presence.
He sent her a text message, asking her to let him know when she had made it home from the meeting.
OK, she answered minutes later. Two hours passed before she let him know she was home safe and sound.
If you’re up to it, how about going to the gospel fest on Penn’s Landing with me after band practice tomorrow?
She replied, Sounds great. Can’t wait!
Me, neither. That was why, the next morning, Garrett drove up to the curb in front of Shari’s house more than ten minutes early. Although his body was conditioned for self-defense, his kne
es almost weren’t sturdy enough to hold his weight when she opened the front door. With the lightness of a feather, Shari had overpowered him with her magnificent allure. How was it possible for a beautiful woman to become increasingly stunning in his eyes? How did God do that?
As if Shari had signaled the wind, a breeze ruffled the hem of her tan dress, teasing his vision as she stepped onto the porch. Garrett’s breathing stilled while his eyelashes provided cover for his assessment that continued down to her feet, where a recent pedicure was evident. Polished pearl-white toenails were accented with a trio of tiny gold rhinestones on both big toes. He released a weak sigh. His heart needed a pump to maintain the blood flow.
“Woman, you’re trying to slay me. You look incredible.”
“You make me feel incredible.” She blushed.
At that moment, Garrett was aware of the seduction of her bedroom eyes that she probably had no clue she possessed. “You were incredible the very day the Lord molded you.”
He took another peek at her pedicured toes—and her high-heeled sandals. “You might want to bring a pair of flat sandals to wear after band rehearsal so your feet won’t get tired. I made dinner reservations at Ristorante La Veranda, and I thought we could stroll along the bridge and then board a ferry to Susquehanna Bank Center.”
Shari furrowed her brow. “I thought we were just going to see Hezekiah Walker at the Gospel Explosion. I haven’t been to Penn’s Landing in years. My sisters and I used to attend events there all the time.”
“I wanted to give you some options.” Garrett lifted her hand and placed a soft kiss on one finger. “I’m still a newbie here, with lots of exploring still to do.”
“Well, if you really want to play the tourist, we might as well visit Adventure Aquarium across the river and see the exotic fish and animals.”
“You’re the most exotic creature I’ve ever seen,” he said as he waited for her to grab her flat shoes, then he helped her into his vehicle. As they drove to the church, Genesis 50:20 ran through his head. Yep, despite Brittani and Landon’s deceit, God has turned it around and used it for my good.
Chapter 18
After they placed their orders at La Veranda, Shari glanced around to take in the ambiance of the restaurant when Garrett’s smartphone played a tune, and he reached for it. Even Shari was beginning to recognize the familiar ringtone. Keeping a smile on her face, she groaned inwardly. Now what? Did his grandfather have a satellite tracking device that notified him whenever the two of them were together? His frequent calls, which she initially found endearing, were becoming annoying. Couldn’t they just have a normal date without interruptions or the need to reschedule?
“I’m turning off my phone,” Garrett told her. “I want this time to be about us.”
Shari exhaled and repented for her resentful thoughts. After all, she did like his grandfather. Now her smile became genuine.
“A while back, we were discussing bad relationships,” Garrett began.
She nodded.
“Well, I was engaged once, but I broke it off when my fiancée got pregnant.”
She must have frowned or otherwise made her hurt obvious, for he rushed to add, “Before you jump to any conclusions, you need to know that the babies aren’t mine.”
Shari couldn’t help herself. “Excuse me if I step out of church mode and put on my attorney suit. The only way you would know that the baby—babies, rather—aren’t yours is if you didn’t sleep with her.” She knew it sounded bad. Practicing Christians didn’t fornicate. But she had to make sure he didn’t play church on Sundays and role-play as a saint the rest of the week.
Garrett didn’t seem intimidated by her questioning. “Shari, I’m pure. I’ve never touched a woman. Christian ladies aren’t the only ones who strive to keep their virginity until marriage. She slept with my cousin, or my cousin slept with her—however one wants to phrase their sick behavior.”
Shari gasped and then covered her mouth. “Your fiancée and your cousin? Their babies?” Her eyes watered with compassion for his situation, then she chided herself for questioning his character. “Oh, no. I’m so sorry.” She sniffed.
Save yourself from this unruly generation, the Lord whispered.
How many times had her mother drilled Acts 2:40 into her daughters’ heads as they were growing up? While Shari had been saving herself for her future husband, Garrett had also been saving himself for his future wife. It was a welcome affirmation that not all God’s people yielded to the temptation of premarital relations. “Praise Jesus for His keeping power.”
“Amen.” Garrett exhaled and looked around before meeting her eyes again. She liked the gentleness staring back at her. “The Lord saved me as a boy. I think I was seven, maybe eight. My grandfather read countless stories to my cousin and me from the Old Testament about kings who pleased God, only to have their descendants do evil in the sight of the Lord. My grandfather and my parents practiced holy lives—they were living examples of what it means to walk with God. While I took that to heart, Landon must have been biding his time to be the generation that messed up.” He shook his head. “If I had known that Brittani wasn’t God’s choice for me, I could have saved myself from a lot of grief.”
Shari gave him a grim smile. “I don’t say this lightly, but she was a fool. A good man is hard to find—”
“But a great woman is no easy catch,” he interrupted her, reaching for her hands. She easily surrendered them, only to have to let go moments later when their meals arrived.
After thanking the server, they both bowed their heads, and Shari listened as Garrett said grace. Once Shari sampled her Filetto Di Salmone, she dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin. “So, you broke it off with your fiancée. What about your cousin? How did you handle that?”
Garrett remained silent as a series of different expressions flashed across his face. Shari felt bad for asking. Finally, he huffed before responding, “Landon knows how to play the game. He asked me for forgiveness. I went ballistic, but my family was there to restrain me.” Garrett gritted his teeth. “Some of my friends who knew the truth said that Landon deserved a beat down for his betrayal, and they told me I should give it to him and then repent. The devil taunted me, telling me that I was a wimp if I didn’t lash out in retaliation.”
Shari admired his self-control. “You have such long-suffering patience.” She reached out and rubbed his hand.
Garrett didn’t respond. He seemed to struggle with her assessment. “I’ve never felt so many emotions at one time. I actually entertained….” He paused. “Let me just say that, without the Lord, I might have needed the services of a criminal attorney. But God….”
“Yes, ‘but God,’” she whispered.
“Yes, thank God for Jesus. I think Brittani was counting on not only my forgiveness but also my love. She wanted me to completely overlook her sin. But only God can do that. I fasted, prayed, and read the Word to find comfort and forgiveness. Then I did what God required of me—I forgave her and Landon. It wasn’t long after that when Jesus moved me away, literally, from the situation.”
Shari nodded. “The way we’re inclined to respond to so many situations is rarely God’s way. Although God took ‘side streets’ instead of the direct route to get you here, I’m so glad you arrived when you did.”
“Me, too.” Leaning closer, he brushed a kiss against her lips. Shari wanted more, but he pulled back. “It’s important for you to know that you don’t have just the remnants of my heart, Shari. You have all of it.”
When he explained that Brittani had started a smear campaign against him in the church, declaring that Garrett was the father, Shari couldn’t contain her indignation any longer. “Do you need representation?”
Garret smiled until his eyes seemed to dance. “No, my little spitfire. What bothers me the most is how upsetting this is for my grandparents. They want to be a part of the babies’ lives. But Brittani is being difficult, making outrageous demands that she be married to a Mi
ller before the babies ‘change hands,’ so to speak.”
“It may be worth securing immediate counsel to advise you whether it’s worth filing a petition for visitation rights,” Shari suggested.
“Or we can just pray, baby,” Garrett said softly. “I put my trust in First Corinthians six, verses one and two: ‘Dare any of you, having a matter against another, go to law before the unjust, and not before the saints? Do ye not know that the saints shall judge the world? and if the world shall be judged by you, are ye unworthy to judge the smallest matters?’ I believe prayer can turn any situation around, and I need a woman in my life who believes it, too. If God intends for me to go to court, I trust Him to steer me in that direction.”
“You’re talking with an attorney who makes her living in the courts, defending the law that God established for the lawless—” She held her tongue. Although she could argue any case in the courtroom, she couldn’t go up against God, so she held her peace.
“Baby, let’s change the subject,” Garrett suggested. “This is exactly why I held off telling you about the babies. When I’m with you, I want everything to be about us.”
“You’re right.” Shari sighed. “It’s just that it’s in my blood to fight injustices. If my daddy were here, not only would he like you, but he would say that you have wisdom beyond your years.”
Their server appeared, as if to remind them that they had a sumptuous meal to enjoy, so they floored the conversation and enjoyed their food. Garrett did so with more gusto than usual, as if the discussion had caused him to work up an appetite.
“This is excellent.” He licked his lips. “I’m sure Mr. Carmen would be proud to know that you’ve become the princess he groomed you to be. I hope that I’m the type of man you pictured when you were little and wanted to marry somebody just like your daddy.”
“You are,” she whispered, blinking away a tear.
