by Pat Simmons
Lord, give this woman a mind to fully serve You, Shari silently prayed. It was a known fact that Xena liked to be seen doing things in the church, but her mind was usually elsewhere rather than on the task at hand.
“Any way you look at it, freedom is denied,” Shari responded, but Xena had already vanished down the aisle to exit the bus.
The glamorous exterior of the building did nothing to camouflage the downcast spirits of those awaiting them inside. As the prison ministry team cleared security, Shari’s spirit confirmed the presence of gloom. They were led into a chapel that had about fifty benches. Shari and the other musicians pulled out their instruments while the ministers counted and separated the prayer cloths for distribution, then unwrapped the small vials of holy oil for use during prayer. They were ready for fellowship to begin within minutes. As the inmates dragged themselves into the chapel, the spirits of oppression, despair, and hopelessness followed them and lingered.
Shari swallowed. What really broke her heart were the young inmates who looked barely old enough to drive.
Once the women were seated, an evangelist slapped her tambourine while another band member stroked the keys of a portable keyboard. “We come to glo-ri-fy His name. We come to praise His name. We come to magnify the name of the Lord. Glorify His name. It’s good to lift up Jesus….”
Many of the inmates stood. Others remained in their seats, some praying or observing; but one young girl caught Shari’s eye. She sat in the back, away from the others, sobbing. She was pretty—as pretty as one could be dressed in the orange prison-issued uniform. What could she have done to land her in here? Shari supposed the possibilities were endless. Judging from her distress, the woman was probably afraid to be in this place.
The praise was a fifteen-minute prelude to a brief sermonette on John 16. Evangelist Anita Cecily was known for getting to the point without much fanfare. She concentrated on one verse of Scripture and expected the hearers to do their own research. “Although ye shall be sorrowful, God commands that your sorrow shall be turned into joy. Joy is the ammunition to build your strength. I’m appealing with you today that if you desire prayer, come to the altar. Joy? God’s got that, too. Deliverance? Come on down.”
One by one, the ladies crowded the narrow aisle under the watchful eye of the correctional guards, both of whom were male. Shari had always had a problem with men guarding female prisoners, knowing some of them took advantage of their charges.
“C’mon, there’s always room at Calvary for us,” the evangelist continued. “Lift your hands as a sign of humility.”
Those who didn’t move watched with intense curiosity. Ministers were then dispatched throughout the room. Working in pairs, one member would anoint a woman’s forehead with a dab of holy oil while another prayed.
“Mind if I sit down?” Shari said after making her way to the young inmate seated in the back. The childlike woman didn’t look up or respond. Shari sat anyway and began to hum the tune of the song that sounded like a lullaby. Soon the woman’s tears were dry, replaced with sporadic sniffs. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Shari smiled. “What’s your name?”
Facing Shari for the first time, the woman squinted. “My name or my prison number?”
The first despair of being incarcerated was the loss of identity behind bars. A woman was no longer who she used to be but a faceless number. “Let’s exchange names,” Shari suggested. “I’m Shari Carmen.”
“Karyn. Karyn Wallace.”
“Nice to meet you, Karyn. If you don’t mind my asking, how old are you?”
“Almost twenty-one.” She twisted her lips and shrugged. “Yeah, I know I look younger.”
“And you could be my little sister.”
That made Karyn smile. Soon she began to share about her concerns, which would have seemed unimportant to most outsiders. She talked about the number of years she had yet to serve for the crime she had admitted having committed. Karyn never elaborated on the nature of her offense, and Shari never pushed her to.
“Can I ask you a favor?” she finally asked.
Shari tried not to tense. Lord, help me not to be swayed by a pathetic face. What did Karyn want—a pack of cigarettes? Money? A jail break? “As long as it’s legal.”
“Could you write me?” Karyn’s eyes pleaded more than her voice.
Shari relaxed. “Absolutely.”
“Then you’ll need my prisoner number.”
After giving Karyn her office address, Shari debated whether she should drop money into her account for incidentals. If the woman was a hustler, Shari wasn’t about to become her prey. So, to start off, Shari would simply pray for her.
When the service concluded, Karyn fell into step with the other inmates as the correctional officer corralled them back to their cells.
Remember those who are in prison as if they were you, God whispered, reminding her of Hebrews 13:3.
The words stung as they digested into her spirit. Yes, Lord. As the team gathered to leave, Shari deposited fifty dollars in Karyn’s account. Back on the van, Shari smiled. Working in God’s vineyard had its benefits—including giving others the hope that came from knowing the Lord was on their side. It was even more satisfying than Garrett’s love.
***
While Shari was in New Jersey with the prison ministry, Garrett was on his own mission at Jewelers’ Row, hunting for the right engagement ring. As startling as the duck in the Aflac TV commercials, a display in a store window almost slapped him to grab his attention as he passed.
Freezing in his steps before backpedaling was a big mistake. Garrett nearly tripped over the walking cane of an elderly lady. He apologized, but Granny wasn’t hearing it, as foul language discharged from her mouth. When he reached out to steady her, she yelled, “Get your hands off me,” then wielded her cane as a weapon. Too bad he wasn’t wearing his badge. Though he doubted the woman knew that it was a federal offense to assault a Deputy U.S. Marshal.
And he doubted the senior citizen would listen to reason as he sought refuge inside the jewelry boutique. The lone employee laughed at him, which further humiliated him.
“If you spend a lot of money, I won’t tell the police what I saw,” said the overfed, toupee-wearing man, snapping his red suspenders on his wrinkled dress shirt, which Garrett thought probably hadn’t seen an iron since the day he purchased it.
Garrett decided not to inform the man that he was guilty of trying to bribe a federal agent and instead took it in stride, rubbing his forearm. “I’d like to see that hand sculpture in the window that led to the assault in the first place.”
“My merchandise is worth fighting over, yes?” The salesman grinned and unlocked the case. Then he lifted the figurine, cradling it.
Garrett studied the work of art. It was nearly a foot in height. “I’ll take it.” Here he was supposed to be buying a ring, yet he was purchasing a statuette instead. But he couldn’t resist the allure of the piece. He only wished that a diamond ensemble would grab his attention in the same way.
“You don’t know the cost yet,” the salesman said tentatively.
What did Garrett care about the dollar amount? Shari was priceless. “Love doesn’t have a price tag. Can you engrave it with the words ‘Marry Me for Life’?”
Grinning, the man stood straighter. “Yes, sir.”
Back in his condo, Garrett rubbed his arms, still aching from the wounds that elderly “bat woman” had inflicted on his limbs. Then he roared with laughter as he imagined the scene as it must have appeared to any bystanders.
The following morning, the Sunday church service was charged with the presence of the Holy Ghost. The message, which emphasized that Jesus was looking for recruits for His army of soul-savers, kept the praise flowing throughout the sanctuary. But that didn’t stop Garrett’s heart from pounding whenever he snuck a glance at Shari. He could tell by the glow on her face that she was as excited to see him as he was her. She had arrived at church early for a meet
ing; otherwise, he would have picked her up, as he usually did.
Once Pastor Underwood had pronounced the benediction, Shari stood first.
Garrett jumped to his feet. “Do your plans today include me?” He grinned and wiggled his brows mischievously as he took in her every detail: her rich, dark skin; her cute dimples; her long, thick eyelashes; her full lips; and her jet-black hair that was silky to the touch. Every time he looked at her, it was like seeing her for the first time.
“I think I can pencil you into my schedule.” She playfully wrinkled her nose.
His nostrils flared at her teasing. “If we weren’t standing in church, I would smack you with a kiss for that one.”
“Actually, I have a big court case to prepare for tonight. How about tomorrow after work? I can’t wait.” She smiled as her eyes glistened with excitement.
“Well, little woman of mine, I don’t want to wait until tomorrow. But I will.”
“I love you,” she whispered.
“And I love you, too.” Garrett hadn’t bothered whispering. His feelings were no secret as he escorted her out of the sanctuary.
Chapter 30
This was it. Garrett swallowed. The dim light from Shari’s living-room window served as a beacon in between the dark houses on either side. He was seventeen minutes early. Stepping out of his SUV, he adjusted the strap securing his saxophone on his shoulder. Although he wished that he had a ring box in his pant pocket, he had come bearing gifts: a fragrant bouquet and the exquisite figurine.
Creeping up onto her porch, Garrett knelt and lifted the saxophone, bringing the mouthpiece to his lips. When he blew out, the first note of Karen Clark Sheard’s “Jesus Is a Love Song” spilled out. The mellow serenade intensified as he closed his eyes in order to conjure up all the moments they had shared together—the first time he laid eyes on her. Their first kiss. Their first declarations of love.
He grew breathless as he concentrated on the music, momentarily transformed into a Romeo professing his love to his Juliet from outside her window. After he released the last note, Garrett felt drugged as he opened his eyes. He didn’t remember hearing the door open; neither had he inhaled Shari’s favorite scent. Yet his Egyptian queen stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, her saxophone in her hands. Their eyes connected, then she began to play the tune again and he joined her.
The final note faded in a moment of surrealism, and Garrett stood to greet her. His trance was shattered when applause erupted from several neighbors as porch lights flashed on. Garrett actually felt himself blush at the hearty round of catcalls. He had been trying to play quietly, but his emotions must have gotten the better of him, because he had evidently blasted his love throughout the neighborhood. “Sorry.”
“Go on, Sharmaine,” cheered a woman to the right. “You know how to pick ’em.”
“I give you credit, young man, because I would be stuck on my bad knees,” shouted a male neighbor on the other side.
“Shut up, Milton. We know Marge’s got you trained,” yelled a big, tall woman across the street, provoking snickers from the others.
Any other time, Garrett would have laughed right along with them, but his heart and his eyes were focused on the love of his life. After swiping up the gift and the flowers, he stepped into the foyer, and Shari backed. “We need to talk.” He scanned her appearance—glowing, beautiful, and sophisticated. He had expected nothing less.
“I thought we just did,” she said softly.
“We did with music, but I need to say something—and listen to your response.” He handed her the flowers.
She shut the door and buried her face in the bouquet. “Thank you.” Then she left him in the living room while she went to the kitchen for a vase.
Thinking back to the neighbors, Garrett wouldn’t be surprised if the entire saxophone scene was playing on YouTube by now. He shook his in amusement. Thanks to Mrs. Carmen, they had the house to themselves. Once Garrett had informed her of his intentions for this evening, her mother had happily agreed to visit a neighbor before he arrived.
When Shari returned, Garrett stood and stretched out his arms. She stepped into his embrace. There were no words, just a feeling of completeness such as he had never experienced before, even with Brittani. Pushing back reluctantly, Garrett turned Shari around by the shoulders and guided her to the sofa, where she sat.
He had orchestrated his moment. The only disappointment was the lack of a ring as Garrett knelt before her. Gathering her hands in his, he kissed them before looking up into her misty bedroom eyes.
“Sharmaine Carmen, no other woman can compare to your beauty, inside or out. I understand so clearly the Scripture in Jeremiah twenty-nine that says, ‘For I know the thoughts that I think toward you…to give you an expected end.’ You are the end of my search for love. I’m finally complete.”
A tear trickled down her cheek, and Garrett reached up and caught it with his fingertip. He rubbed the moisture against his thumb until it dried. Happy tears were the only kind he ever wanted to cause her in their marriage.
“God gave me the best of the best, and I will love you until my last breath. Will you marry me?” He paused, wishing again that he had a ring. “I looked in Boston for a ring that was perfect like you, but I found nothing that suited your perfection. I hope you don’t mind shopping together.”
The sparkle in Shari’s eyes outshined the shimmery makeup she’d dusted on her face. “I love you so much, with or without the ring.” She sniffed as she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. She gave him a short, sweet kiss, then pulled away. “But I still want my ring!”
Garrett laughed. He loved it when her spitfire personality popped out. “And I want you to have it.”
***
Shari leaped to her feet. She could barely contain her excitement. She almost knocked Garrett flat on his back as she raced to the front door. After throwing it open, she screamed like a madwoman, “I’m engaged!”
Knowing her mother, she probably had a heads up that this was coming and had been waiting with the neighbor for Shari’s answer. Her suspicions were confirmed when her mother’s friend’s porch light flickered off and on several times in rapid succession.
She knew her behavior was out of her character, but this was a once-in-a-lifetime moment. She was in love, she was loved, and she was officially a fiancée.
Laughing, Garrett walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. He chuckled as he began to sway back and forth. “I guess that means you’re happy?”
“Maybe a little.” Giggling, she twirled around and looped her arms around his neck. “Okay, deliriously happy.” Was this the way Stacy had felt when Ted proposed?
After coaxing her to close the front door, Garrett guided her back to the living room. “I did come bearing a gift. Open it.”
She sat again, and Garrett joined her, placing a box on her lap. After ripping off the gift wrap, she rummaged through the layers of tissue paper and discovered the figurine buried inside. It portrayed a man’s hand slipping a ring on a woman’s finger. The piece was all crystal except for the gold band. She had never seen anything like it. “Wow, it’s beautiful. I love it.”
Garrett kissed her cheek. “It doesn’t replace an engagement ring, but I couldn’t come here and propose without a gift.” He reached for his phone and checked the time. “And a proposal wouldn’t be complete without dinner for two. Come on. I made reservations at Fond, so we’d better go.”
With all this eating out, it seemed her man was trying to fatten her up. As she got to her feet, Garrett twirled her under his arm like a ballerina. She grabbed her purse, and they walked out the front door moments later. She glanced across the street and spotted her mother and Mrs. Franks peeping out of another neighbor’s window. Shari waved at them, and they fervently returned the gesture.
After Garrett pulled away from the curb, Shari took his hand in hers, closed her eyes, and smiled. Her bliss was indescribable, and she was thankful that
Garrett allowed her the quietness to dwell in it.
Their candlelight dinner celebration was enchanting, from the exquisite meal to the unparalleled ambience. Plus, there were no interruptions. It was just the two of them in their own world, barely eating but gazing into each other’s eyes with frequent whispers of “I love you.” Shari hated to see the night come to an end.
By the next morning, she found out that her mother hadn’t wasted any time spreading the news. Although Stacy already knew, she insisted on hearing the details from Shari. Then Shae called, and after Shari described the evening, her sister shared that she was now dating a professional baseball player who had won her heart. It wasn’t until late the next morning, after two court appearances, that Shari was able to connect with Brecee.
“Girl, I’m so loving the life you’re living. You’ve got drama with an ex-fiancée, babies, a low-down and dirty cousin, demons, and a marriage proposal. Did I leave anything out?”
Shari laughed as she scribbled on a pad at her desk: Attorney Nash. Mrs. Garrett Nash. Sharmaine Carmen Nash. She scratched out “Carmen.” She wanted Garrett’s name and his alone.
She stopped mid-sentence when her office door opened and Garrett stuck his head in. Her heart fluttered at the sight of her fiancé. “Brecee, I’ve got to go. A tall, handsome stranger just walked in. Maybe he needs representation.”
“Right.” Brecee giggled. “Tell my soon-to-be brother-in-law I said hi.”
“I will.” Shari disconnected, then stood, admiring Garrett’s long strides to her desk.
Without speaking, he cupped her face with his hands. Anticipating his next move, Shari held her breath. Her eyelids fluttered as Garrett leaned closer, brushing his lips against hers before tickling her with his mustache.
“Your secretary said it was okay to come in, since you didn’t have a client and weren’t on the phone, but I see you were on your cell. Anyway, the representation I want from you is to wear my ring and be my wife. Ready to go diamond shopping?”
“I can’t wait!”
