“For a while,” Janelle said, “till people got over it. And so what if they didn’t? Aunt Gwynn, Jim, and the baby could’ve moved elsewhere.”
“Jan, it always sounds plain in hindsight.”
Janelle lapsed into her own thoughts for a while. Then, “Mom and Dad used to drive up to Jersey sometimes when we were young. So I got to know Keisha a little even though we never really kept in touch.” She looked at her grandmother. “Have you met her even once?”
“Never. Only seen pictures.”
Janelle didn’t know what to say.
Janelle heard a light knock on the side door Wednesday evening as she and Stephanie cleaned the kitchen. “Hello?” a voice said.
“Come on in, Todd.”
Travis was with him. The guys were dressed in slacks and button-downs, their Wednesday evening Bible study attire.
Stephanie looked over her shoulder from her place at the sink. “I guess we should feel guilty that we weren’t at Bible study tonight—at either church.”
Travis pulled out a chair and sat down. “From what I’m hearing, that Saturday morning diner study is what’s happening. I’m thinking about crashing.”
“I’ve heard the same,” Todd said.
“So what’s up, guys?” Janelle said. “This is looking rather official.”
Todd glanced at Travis. “I’m on a mission. Travis is here for moral support, I guess.” He gave a wry smile. “I was hoping you could help me.”
Janelle sat down at the table.
“I know your family’s trying to get in touch with your aunt Gwynn, but my focus is on Keisha. I wondered if you could call and introduce us.”
“I don’t know, Todd. It’s been years since I talked to her. I’m not even sure I have the right number.”
“If you don’t, could you get it?”
“I guess . . . but there’s no guarantee she’ll get on the phone. Do you know what you’ll say?”
Todd sighed. “No idea. I don’t even want to plan it out. I’m praying for God to make the rough places smooth.”
Janelle nodded. “I like that. I’ll start praying that myself.” She got up and found her phone. “Want me to try right now?”
“That’s what I was hoping.”
Stephanie put the last pan she’d been washing in the rack to dry and came to the table.
Janelle took a breath and tapped in the number. In light of everything that had happened, she didn’t know what to say to her own cousin. How much did Keisha know?
“Whoever’s number this is,” she told them, “it’s ringing.” Seconds later a woman answered. “Hello . . . is this Keisha?”
“Yes, this is Keisha. Hi, Janelle.”
“How’d you know who it was?”
“You’re in my contacts,” she said. “You must have had the same number for a long time.”
“Likewise.” Janelle smiled into the silence. “How have you been?”
“You don’t have to make small talk, Janelle. I know why you’re calling.”
“You do?”
“Mom said everyone’s trying to get in touch with her, that you all know who my father is now.”
“So you already knew?” Janelle hadn’t been sure.
Todd was focused on Janelle’s every word.
“Yes, I knew.”
She sounded so calm. Janelle was the one who had to get her bearings. “Well, I’m actually here with, um . . . your brother, I guess I could say. Jim’s son, Todd. He wants me to introduce you two, if that’s okay.”
Keisha didn’t respond.
Janelle looked at Todd. “Keisha?”
“I’m not sure, but if he’s sitting right there . . . you can put me on speaker.”
Janelle wasn’t so sure this was a good idea either. “Okay, just a sec.” She put the phone on the table, making a face at Todd to warn him it might not go well, and pushed the speaker button. “Keisha, as I said, Todd is here with me. Just to tell you a little about him, he’s my age, thirty-four, married, with two kids who are four and two. They moved to Hope Springs from St. Louis about a month ago. He took over as pastor of Calvary Church.” She paused to see if Keisha would say anything, but she didn’t. “And, Todd, this is Keisha.”
Janelle didn’t know what else to say. She was pretty sure Keisha was married, but she didn’t know about kids.
Todd leaned forward. “Hi, Keisha, I’m so glad to meet you by phone.”
“Did you already know about me?” Keisha asked.
“No. I learned for the first time on Saturday.”
“I knew about you,” Keisha said.
Todd cleared his throat. “I’d love to know more about you. Are you married? Any kids?”
“I got married four years ago. We have a boy, Jason, who’s three.”
“That’s awesome,” Todd said. “And you live in New Jersey?”
“That’s right, in Neptune.”
“So if you don’t mind my asking,” he said, “how long have you known who your dad was?”
“My mother told me the whole story when I was twelve.”
They all looked surprised.
“Really?” Todd said. “Wow. Did you . . . did you ever want to come to Hope Springs to meet this side of your family?”
Keisha hesitated a little. “Well . . . from what I understood, it was never really an option.” She paused. “Do you mind if I speak plainly?”
“Please do,” Todd said.
“I’m sure you have warm and fuzzy feelings about your family, Todd. And I understand your dad just passed, so I’m mindful of showing respect. But the truth is that your grandparents didn’t want me because I’m black, and your dad went along with the status quo for most of my life. I honestly have a real problem with your grandfather calling himself a pastor—your father too—and yet living with the obvious prejudice they had toward black people.”
Janelle looked at the rest of them with wide eyes.
It took Todd a few seconds to recover. “You don’t mince words, that’s for sure. In all fairness, Keisha, I hear what you’re saying about Granddad, but I don’t see how you could say that about my dad. In his letter to Grandma Geri, he spoke of his love for your mother.”
“He was willing to live his life without telling a soul about me. If I were white, would that have been the case?”
“I think back then any pregnancy out of wedlock was taboo, especially in a small town. It often meant the girl going away—”
“Or it meant getting married, if you were the right color.”
Janelle had never heard such pointed discussion, but then, she’d never spoken with someone who’d had to reconcile such family history. “Keisha, I’m kind of surprised you answered the phone given the way you feel about everything.”
“My mother is the one who would rather avoid than engage, so she doesn’t answer calls. I don’t have a problem engaging the issue. I’m glad it’s finally out.”
Todd gave them a tentative glance before he continued. “Keisha, what would you think about meeting in person? My family and I could plan a trip up there or . . .”
“Or my family could come to Hope Springs?” Keisha chuckled for the first time, but she didn’t sound amused.
Janelle weighed her next words carefully. “Actually, Keisha,” she said, “it might be a good time to consider coming to Hope Springs. I don’t know if you’ve heard that Grandma Geri has advanced-stage lung cancer. I know that she’s . . . Well, she’s never met you either.”
Keisha was slow to respond. “I’ll have to give it some thought, to know if I can open myself up to meeting Todd or my mom’s mom. It would have to be from the heart, from a real desire to establish a relationship, and I don’t know if I’m there yet. I’ll pray about it.”
The four of them in Grandma Geri’s kitchen looked somber.
Todd stared at the phone, nodding. “Thank you, Keisha. Do you mind if I get your phone number from Janelle?”
“I don’t mind.”
“Take
care, Keisha,” Janelle said, and ended the call.
“Well, that was interesting.” Stephanie blew out a breath and sat back.
Todd looked troubled. “I’ve always seen my dad and granddad as great men of God. She nicely and calmly called them prejudiced. That’s taking it a bit far, don’t you think? Janelle, Stephanie . . . your grandparents took the same position.”
“They all accepted the status quo regarding skin color,” Janelle said. “What I heard Keisha saying is that she expected more from them as pastors.”
“No matter how nice and calm Keisha sounded, we’d be crazy if we didn’t understand how hurt she has to have been over all this,” Travis said. “Neither set of grandparents wanted her around, and that came to include her father as well, who never acknowledged her until late in his life. Jim had a good heart. But when you look at it from her perspective . . .” He shrugged. “Can’t say I blame her.”
Todd retreated into his thoughts.
“I was just thinking,” Stephanie said, “how powerful the status quo can be. People just don’t want to break from the norm.”
“That’s interesting, Steph,” Janelle said, “because that’s been on my mind even before this revelation, and now even more so.” She looked at Todd and Travis. “I was planning to talk to the two of you this week about that very thing.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Saturday, February 6
A week after her dismissal from Worth & Purpose, Becca was still struggling to get her bearings. She had no problem sitting down in her disappointment, as Janelle had advised—her problem was getting back up. Maybe if she could’ve found that hole to hide in, she could’ve recouped by now. As it was, life kept finding her—throwing reminders of what could’ve been.
Her agent had called first thing Monday morning. As if she needed confirmation, he let her know she wouldn’t be getting a book deal after all, ever. She’d footnoted that last word in her mind, because it was true. Only the big-platform people got nonfiction book contracts. Those playing small ball could stick to their blogs. And she wasn’t even sticking to that.
She had yet to update it. People had been posting comments on her last entry, asking how things went, letting her know they’d been praying. She couldn’t address it yet. She wanted to get to a better place first, a place of peace, where she could say God must have a better plan and purpose and mean it. Or where she could quote, “All things work together for good . . .”—one of her favorite promises—and believe the promise applied to her and this situation. She felt silly for even redesigning the blog. If she hadn’t paid a fee for it, she’d delete it just as she had her Facebook fan page.
Becca groaned aloud, hearing her own funk as she swept the kitchen floor. She wanted to break out of it but she couldn’t. She wished Worth & Purpose had never entered her orbit. That’s what bothered her most. She wished God could just tell her why He opened the door only to slam it shut. What was the point, Lord? What were You trying to teach me? That I should never dream? That I could never have ministry success?
“Hey, Bec, I’ve got an idea to run by you.”
Todd had gone over to the church for an early morning meeting. The kids were sleeping late.
She held the broom. “What’s up?”
“At the meeting this morning we were talking about ministries already operating at Calvary and ones we’d like to implement.” He grabbed a banana from the fruit basket on the counter. “Calvary has never had a formal women’s ministry. There was a unanimous feeling in the group that you’d be the perfect person to head that up.”
Becca shook her head. “Sorry, Todd, but that doesn’t sound appealing in the least. The women’s ministry at our old church had Bible studies on Tuesday morning and Wednesday evening, retreats, fun Friday night workshop sessions. If I were interested, that’s the kind of ministry I’d want to head up.” She looked at him. “What do they even do here?”
“I think that’s the point, Bec. We’d need someone to fashion a women’s ministry. But you’re right, it won’t be like our old church. We just don’t have the numbers.”
“Well, even if they had the numbers, I doubt I’d be interested. I don’t want to give a single thought to ‘ministry.’ ”
Todd looked out the back window as Becca continued sweeping.
“Have you heard anything from Keisha?” she asked. She’d been trying not to let her issues take precedence over what Todd was going through.
He glanced back at her. “No. But we only talked to her Wednesday. I’d be shocked to hear from her again this year, quite frankly.”
“I know we keep saying it, but I still can’t believe your dad was in love with Gwynn—and they conceived a love child. That just blows my mind.”
“Yours?” He faced the window again. “It’s almost tragic in a way, to love so deeply but have that love denied because of the thinking of the time.”
She whisked under the table. “I’m really hoping you and Keisha can develop some kind of relationship.”
“I’m praying about that,” he said.
Becca couldn’t say the same. She didn’t have the faith to pray and believe for much of anything right now.
Her phone dinged on the counter, letting her know she had a text.
“I know it’s Janelle,” she said. “She’s been trying to get me to go to the Bible study at the diner this morning.”
“I think it’d be great if you went,” Todd said. “At the least you’d get out of the house, get your mind off things.”
And get away from that computer. She kept finding things to look up despite herself. A little while ago she’d gone to the Worth & Purpose website and seen that the site had been scrubbed of her existence.
She sighed. “I may as well.” She was curious what a “diner Bible study” was like anyway, especially one led by Sara Ann.
Becca walked into the diner with Janelle and Stephanie, a little late. The hostess led them to an area where several women were gathered. Becca noticed the cross-section right away—black, white, older, younger. And they all looked actively engaged in the discussion.
The three of them completed a third table, clustered together in a corner of the diner. The woman next to Becca smiled at them. “We’re talking about the promises of God,” she said, “focusing on promises we don’t hear very often.”
Sara Ann was at the middle table and had the women laughing about something. “I don’t see why y’all don’t think this is fun,” she said. She was grinning. “All right, any more promises we don’t hear people claiming very often? I haven’t heard anyone say, ‘Whom the Lord loves, He chastens.’ ” She laughed at the grumbles. “What? It’s a promise, ain’t it?”
“I’ve got one.”
A hand went up at the table next to Becca. “ ‘In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.’ ” The woman looked up from her Bible. “Call me weird if you want, but I like that trouble is guaranteed—seriously! It comforts me because things do go wrong.”
“That’s for sure,” another woman said, as heads nodded.
“So I tell myself, ‘Beverly, this shouldn’t shock you. What did Jesus say? You’re gonna have trouble in this world.’ And I remind myself that He’s overcome the world.”
“I love that,” Sara Ann said. She looked around for others.
Another hand went up. “I’ve got one, only because God hit me over the head with it this week. ‘Before honor comes humility.’ ” The woman was older and looked familiar, probably from Calvary. “I tend to want the honor, but not the humility,” she said. “But humility brings us closest to Christ. At least that’s the message God wants me to get. I’m still working on it.”
Becca was still staring at the woman after she’d finished. It was as if she’d been talking only to her. The words had hit Becca over the head too, like a two-by-four.
Sara Ann had already moved on to someone else, so Becca got up and tiptoed over to the woman, crouching down beside her. �
��Excuse me, what verse is that?”
“Proverbs 15:33.”
“Thank you.”
Becca went back, leafed through her Bible, and read it again.
“Before honor comes humility.”
She didn’t know why it was hitting her, but it was. Humility. Such an obvious, everyday word, but suddenly she wasn’t sure what it meant. Not in the way she needed to. What was it supposed to mean for her?
Becca felt such a stirring inside that she knew one thing for sure—she had to find out.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Libby, you’re using all the red!” Tiffany came around the table, picked up the bottle of red paint, and moved it closer to her.
Libby put her fists to her hips. “Tiffy, are you being stingy? After I bought all this paint in Raleigh and brought it with me? I know you didn’t think it was just for the kids.” She went and got the bottle and poured more red into her paint tray.
Janelle watched with amusement. “Tiffany, you should know better than to mess with Libby when she’s working on a masterpiece. She thinks she’s got skills.”
“She does have skills.” Becca peeked at Libby’s work while she helped control Ethan’s wildly flinging paintbrush. “Those red apples on the tree are popping.”
“Why, thank you.” Libby bowed. “Is it too late to pursue the path of starving artist?”
Stephanie broke her focus on her own creation and looked up. “Long as you’re willing to starve.”
“Good point.” Libby twirled her brush in the air as if considering. “I’ll be at work on time Monday.”
“Mommy, I need help.” Claire held her brush above the white paper. “I don’t know how to paint a Chihuahua.”
“Has to be a Chihuahua?” Becca chewed her lip. “Can’t be any old dog?”
“Of course not, Mom.” Janelle winked at her. “We watched Beverly Hills Chihuahua last night, remember?”
“Oh, what was I thinking? Of course it has to be a Chihuahua.” Becca looked at Claire’s paper. “But, sweetheart, I wouldn’t know how to draw one.”
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