“You all right?” he whispered.
She nodded against his shoulder, unable to give voice to another lie. She stayed tucked against her husband’s side for the duration of the sermon, reliving the past and undoing her mistakes in her mind. When the service was over, Barnard asked again, “Sure you’re okay?”
She smiled at him. “Fine,” she said.
“I don’t feel like cooking,” he said. “Let’s take everybody out. Are you up for it?”
Though Serena didn’t look forward to sharing a meal with Preacher, she couldn’t very well change her story and say she didn’t feel up to going out. “Why not?” she said, hoping Preacher would turn them down. She knew he would be as uncomfortable as she was.
She watched as Barnard asked Preacher.
“Let me check and see if Tanya and the kids are back,” Preacher answered, disappointing Serena. He pulled out his cell phone and moved over to a quiet corner so he could talk.
“You two are going with us, right?” Serena asked Natalie and Dante. The more people at the table the less likely she’d have to talk to Preacher.
Natalie shook her head. “Dante already made plans,” she said. “But we should get together for dinner one evening. Let’s talk about it next week.”
“Sounds good to me,” Serena said. She leaned forward and hugged her sister-in-law. “Enjoy yourself,” she said. Then she turned to Dante. “It was nice meeting you. Don’t be a stranger.”
“I don’t plan to be,” Dante said, taking Natalie’s hand in his. “I know a good thing when I see it. Natalie’s very special to me and I hope to be around for a long time.”
“Then we definitely have to get together,” Barnard interjected. “Man-to-man.”
“Oh, please, Barnard.” Natalie rolled her eyes and tugged on Dante’s hand, pulling him away from her family. “I’ll see you all later.”
Serena watched the couple as they left the church hand in hand. She could see what attracted Natalie to Dante: good looks and an easy charm. Unfortunately, she could also see what attracted Dante to her: her openness and innocence.
“So what do you think?” Barnard asked.
“I don’t think he’s right for Natalie.”
Barnard chuckled. “Okay, mother hen, tell me why.”
Serena eyed him. “Did you see that watch?”
Barnard whistled. “How could I miss it? How do the kids say it—man’s got the bling-bling.”
Serena smiled and then she leaned up and kissed him on the cheek.
“What’s that for?” he asked.
“For being you.”
Before Barnard could respond, Preacher returned. “Tanya and the kids are at her mother’s, so if the offer still stands, lunch would be great.”
They quickly made their way out of the church and to their cars. Preacher drove his own car, following Serena and Barnard. They reached the restaurant and, in short time, they were seated in a quiet booth, Serena and Barnard on one side, Preacher on the other.
“I’m hungry,” Barnard said. “What about you?” he asked Preacher.
“Man, I’m always hungry. Good food may end up being my downfall.”
Barnard chuckled, but Serena could only muster a smile. “We’ll have to have you and your family over one weekend. I grill a mean steak and I’m not too bad with ribs, either. Tell him, Serena.”
“He’s a good cook,” Serena said. “Much better than I am.”
Barnard winked. “I told you.”
Serena looked at her husband. “You told him what?”
Preacher chuckled. “I warned you, man.”
The ringing of Barnard’s cell phone saved him from Serena’s interrogation. He leaned forward and pulled the phone out of his pocket. Looking at the caller ID, he said, “I need to take this.” He excused himself from the table, leaving Serena alone with Preacher.
“It’s been a long time,” Preacher said.
“Not long enough.”
“I want to apologize—” Preacher began.
Serena glanced over in the direction Barnard had gone. “Not now, Preacher.”
“Then when?” Preacher asked. “I can’t keep lying to Barnard. We can’t keep lying to Barnard.”
“And you want to tell him what?” she accused.
“I want to tell him we knew each other.”
“In the biblical sense, you mean?” She shook her head. “It would hurt him.”
“It was a long time ago, Serena,” Preacher reasoned. “Barnard’s a good man. He won’t hold your past against you.”
Barnard returned before Serena could respond. He didn’t sit, but stood looking down at them. “I have to leave. That was Wayne. He needs some papers that I have at home.”
“Then we’ll go,” Serena said, reaching for her purse.
Barnard pressed his hand against her shoulder, keeping her seated. “No, you and Preacher go ahead and eat. It’ll only take a few minutes. Wayne’s going to meet me at the house and I’ll drive straight back.” He pressed a kiss on Serena’s forehead. “I’ll be back before you miss me,” he said. “Besides, this will give you and Preacher a chance to get to know each other.” Barnard lifted his eyes to Preacher. “She’s my most precious asset, man. Take care of her while I’m gone.”
Preacher nodded. “I’ll do my best.”
“Get the prime rib,” Barnard suggested, backing away. “It’s excellent.”
The waitress came to take their orders just as Barnard was leaving. Serena took as long as she could with her selection, wishing that she could prolong the task until Barnard returned.
“What do you recommend?” she asked the waitress, after Preacher had placed his order.
“The prime rib is always good, and I like the salmon.”
Serena pretended to think about it. “How’s the rib eye?” she asked. She and the waitress went back and forth for about five minutes before she made her selection. “And a glass of iced tea, unsweetened,” she added.
“She deserves a big tip,” Preacher said, causing Serena to look directly at him for the first time since Barnard had left them alone. “The smile she wore when she came to the table was genuine,” he explained. “The one she wore when she left was pasted on. You wore her out with your questions.”
“I couldn’t decide what I wanted.” She picked up a pink packet of sweetener and twisted it between her fingers.
“Right.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing,” Preacher said, lowering his voice. “I’m sorry, Serena.”
“Sorry for what?”
“For everything,” he said. “I tried to explain it to you in the letter. Didn’t you read it?”
Did she read it? She couldn’t get the words out of her mind. “I read it.”
“I understand if you’re not ready to forgive me, but I’m so sorry for everything I put you through, for the pain I caused you.”
“Words, Preacher,” she said. “Talking is easy.”
“Tell me what you want me to do,” he pleaded. “Tell me and I’ll do it.”
“Get out of our lives, Preacher,” she said. “That’s what you can do.”
Preacher slumped back against the booth. “Anything but that, Serena. You know my probation is contingent on my participation in the jobs program. There’s no way I can get out of your life. Barnard’s my sponsor.”
Serena smirked. “Like I said, words are easy. You asked and now I’ve told you.” She leaned toward him. “Can’t you see that it’s no good for either of us? Barnard’s going to be crushed when he finds out. You’ll be a constant reminder to him.”
“Because I’m a constant to reminder to you?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“And none of those memories are good?”
Serena gave a harsh laugh. “What was good about it? I was a naive girl who thought the town bad boy was in love with her. I gave up too much with you, Preacher. It hurts to remember how much.”
“I’m sorry,” he said
again.
“You may be sorry, but it doesn’t help. I have to live with what I did. You don’t.”
Preacher shook her head. “Oh, but I do. I live with it, Serena.”
She smirked again.
“Okay, I admit that I didn’t think too much of it at the time. I didn’t want kids. I didn’t want to be married. I didn’t want to be tied down.”
“I, I, I,” Serena interjected. “It was all about you.” She thumped her chest with her forefinger. “What about me?”
Preacher sighed. “You’re right. It was all about me. I’m sorry for that. If I could go back and relive that time, I promise you I’d do it differently but I can’t. And I grieve, Serena,” he said. “I grieve for our child.”
Serena shook her head. “Don’t,” she said. “Don’t talk about it. I don’t want to talk about it. I can’t.”
Preacher leaned back against the booth and Serena closed her eyes to keep her tears at bay. Their baby was dead and it was Preacher’s fault. He’d encouraged her to have the abortion, demanded it really. He’d driven her to the clinic and, after the procedure was over, he’d driven her back home. It had been the first time he’d come to her house. Because she knew her parents wouldn’t have approved of their relationship, they’d kept it secret. It had been an exciting time for the normally straitlaced Serena. Nobody would have ever guessed that she was seeing Preacher. She only dated boys who shared her Christian beliefs, boys who came to her house and met her parents. But Preacher, with his grandma’s Bible, had been different. She’d met him at the mall, of all places. He’d been a charmer them. And it hadn’t taken long for him to charm her. She often wondered how she’d been so gullible.
She kept her eyes closed and her mouth shut until the waitress brought their food. She and Preacher ate in silence, the past looming between them.
CHAPTER 7
The morning service replayed itself in Natalie’s mind, starting with her conversation with Preacher and ending with Pastor Thomas’s scripture reading. The love in Preacher’s voice when he spoke of his kids made her think of Benjamin and the horrible way he’d kept the news of his son hidden for two years. Then Pastor Thomas had preached about being unequally yoked and she’d thought about the question Serena had asked her about Dante’s spirituality.
“I hope your silence doesn’t mean you’re getting tired of me,” Dante teased Natalie. They were seated at an outdoor restaurant on downtown Atlanta’s Peachtree Street.
Her thinking disturbed, she looked over at Dante. “Sorry,” she said. “What did you say?”
Dante chuckled. “I know I’m losing my touch now.”
Natalie smiled. “No, really,” she said. “I have a lot on my mind.”
“I’m a good listener,” he told her. “Want to share?”
Natalie wasn’t sure what to share. She was about to make something up, when out of the corner of her eye, she saw a man she readily recognized striding toward their table. Beyond him, she glimpsed his soon-to-be wife hiding behind a menu. She turned her focus back to Dante, hoping against hope the man wouldn’t stop at their table.
“Hello, Natalie,” an alto voice that was as familiar to her as her own said.
She glared up into those dark, almost black, eyes she had once loved, saw his wide smile and deliberately did not return his greeting. How could he? How could he walk up to her as though nothing had happened between them?
His smile faltered a bit. “I saw you over here and I wanted to say hello.”
When she didn’t speak, Dante jumped in. “Dante Griggs,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m a friend of Natalie’s.”
“Benjamin Towles,” he said. “I used to be a friend of Natalie’s.” He inclined his head toward the table where the woman was sitting. “I saw you sitting over here and I thought I’d say hello.”
“Well,” Dante said, “maybe that wasn’t a good idea. If you’ll excuse us, Natalie and I are trying to decide what to order.”
“Oh,” Benjamin said, looking bewildered. “I’ll go then.”
“Good idea,” Dante said with a smirk. When Benjamin was gone, he looked at Natalie and said, “Old boyfriend?”
“You could say that.”
He eyed her closely. “I take it the relationship didn’t end well.”
Now that was the understatement of the decade. Natalie would have laughed if she didn’t hurt so much. “No, it didn’t.”
Dante reached across the table, covered her hand with his, and squeezed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “The man was a fool to let you go.”
She looked up at him. “Yes, he was, wasn’t he?”
He nodded. “Given that his loss is my gain, I can’t help but feel a little sorry for the brother. His coming over here like that makes me think he’s beginning to realize what he lost. Should I be concerned?”
Natalie shook her head. “No way. There’s nothing left between Benjamin and me. Whatever feelings I had for him died a long time ago and I’m not sure he ever had feelings for me.”
“He did,” Dante said with certainty.
“How do you know?”
“A man knows these things. I could tell by the look in the brother’s eyes. He regrets losing you. Why’d you dump him—another woman?”
“You could say that.” She looked directly at Dante. “He was engaged to me but having sex with her.” She inclined her head to the table Benjamin shared with Moesha.
Dante looked stunned for a moment and then he laughed riotously.
“What’s so funny?” Natalie asked.
When Dante stopped laughing, he said, “No wonder the brother looked so pitiful coming over here. He picked her over you? He must be crazy.”
Natalie felt a calmness and self-confidence settle over her. Being with Dante was right. He gave her a strong sense of self-worth. Benjamin hadn’t wanted her, but Dante did. And Dante saw her value; Benjamin had thought her stupid.
“The man is a fool, Natalie. He had some nerve coming over here like that. I shouldn’t have been nice to him.”
Natalie chuckled. “You weren’t exactly nice, Dante,” she said. “You practically ordered him to leave us alone.”
“Yeah,” Dante said, “but I didn’t hit him.”
Now Natalie laughed. “You’re good for me,” she said.
“Keep reminding yourself of that and we’ll do well together.”
Natalie thought again about Pastor Thomas’s sermon. Maybe she and Dante were more equally yoked than it looked on the surface. So what if he wasn’t into organized Christianity as much as she was. He had a good heart, and a good heart had to come from God. Besides, she wasn’t into organized Christianity as much now as she had been before the relationship fiasco with Benjamin. She had experienced a brutal truth with him: going to church does not make one a Christian. She bet Dante had a better chance of getting into heaven than Benjamin did. “You know what I want to do?” she asked Dante. “I want to forget they’re here and enjoy our time together. Benjamin is of no interest to me and no threat to you.”
Dante lifted his glass of white wine. “Your wish is my command.”
“You’ve been awfully quiet today,” Barnard said to Serena as they changed their clothes upon returning home from their meal with Preacher. “You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “A little tired.”
“I think it’s more than that,” he said.
She turned to him. Dressed only in her slip, she said, “What?”
“I think it’s more than that. You don’t like Preacher, do you?”
She turned away. “It’s not that,” she said. “He’s all right.”
Barnard came to her and placed his hands on her bare shoulders. His touch both warmed her and made her ashamed. She stepped away.
Barnard sighed. “Something’s wrong,” he said. “Talk to me.”
Her back to him, Serena closed her eyes. “You’re worrying for no reason. Everything’s fine.”
He went to her agai
n. Placing his hand on her shoulder, he turned her to face him. “Are you sure it’s not Preacher? I know you don’t approve of his old lifestyle, but I think he’s sincere in wanting to follow the Lord and our support will mean a lot. He’s going to need all the help he can get to keep from turning back to his old life.”
“Why us?” she finally asked. “Aren’t there other families out there who can befriend him and his fiancé? I really think they’d be better off with a couple with children.”
Barnard dropped his hands. “We could be a couple with children if you’d change your attitude about adoption.”
Serena refused to be baited into their age-old argument. Barnard didn’t know how hard it was for her to think about adopting a baby. The thought of holding another woman’s baby, of knowing another woman had the courage to have her baby with the hope that someone else would take care of it, reminded her of her own decision. She knew the doctors hadn’t found anything physically wrong with her, yet she couldn’t help but believe her inability to conceive was God’s punishment for her aborting her first child. “I can’t argue about this today, Barnard.”
“Who’s arguing? I’m talking.”
Serena pulled on a pair of Capri sweats and a light shirt. “Well, I can’t talk right now,” she said. “I’m going to take a run. Clear my head.”
“Wait. I’ll go with you.”
She shook her head. “I need some alone time, Barnard. I won’t be gone long.”
“You can’t run away from this.”
“I’m not running away. I’m going for a run.”
As she reached the door, Barnard said, “Don’t go.”
She pressed her forehead against the cool oak door. “I need to get out.”
He came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and rested his chin against the top of her head. “And I need to be with you. We’re pulling away from each other too much, and I don’t like it. I don’t like what it’s doing to us. We used to be best friends and lovers as well as husband and wife. We were one in every sense of the word. I don’t feel that now.”
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