And This Too Shall Pass

by E. Lynn Harris

  “Hey, God, remember me? Titus Sean Elliott, your boy. Of course you do, you’re God.” Sean paused for a moment because he felt silly talking to the sky, when he noticed the clouds moving, revealing a full moon, and a wave of emotion came over him. Man couldn’t do that, he thought, and he started to talk to God once more. “I’ve been hiding from you for quite some time, but you know that. I won’t bore you with my life and what’s been going on with me, ’cause you already know. I just need some help here. I need some questions answered. I want my life to work. And I know you can help me.”

  Sean paused and took a deep breath and began to talk again. His voice fell into a rhythm, a potent mix of strength and vulnerability. “I’m trying not to let the obvious control me. You know, my being black and gay. I have learned to live with it. I want to love it. I guess you in all your wisdom know how I can do that. I want love in my life. Is that selfish to pray for? Don’t I deserve love in my life? Isn’t it one of the best gifts you gave us, your children? If it’s not Zurich, then make sure it’s someone who loves me. When I was hiding, I knew you could see me, and I know now you were protecting me. Protecting me when I got too drunk to care. When I brought home people who could have taken my life. Protecting me from all the diseases. Thank you. I want to be a better person. I want to do more to make you proud of me. I want people to understand that you knew what you were doing when you made us all so different from each other. But I don’t understand why we, meaning all your children, don’t understand that. Why do we spend so much time hurting each other? I want to know why we all can’t have the same amount of joy in our life, and if we must have sorrow, then why can’t that be equal, too? I know you’re the boss and maybe something else is going on in heaven that I don’t know about. Is everybody I meet down here one of your children, or does Satan have just as many? Why can’t you just come back here, just one day, one hour, a minute, and explain it all to us. Why all the different colors? Why do some of us love different? Why do some of us feel things that people we love can’t understand? Would it be too much for us to know? I think if we knew, then things might be better down here.” Sean let out a loud sigh as he felt his time was almost up, but he had a few more things he needed to say.

  “You know I love you … that I believe in you. You know what’s in my heart. I’m sorry I was hiding. I was hurting. I’m not going to do that anymore. I’m not going to let the people who claim they represent you take away my faith. I won’t let them do that. They can’t have my faith. But can’t there be joy in faith, joy in love. I know you love me. I know that one day I’ll have love right here,” Sean said as he punched his fists toward his heart. “I love you, Lord, and I know you love me. If I have to be alone here on earth, then please don’t let me be lonely. Show me the way and I will follow. I won’t hide anymore. And when it hurts, I’ll know that you’re there, ready to soothe me, when soothing is what I need. Thank you, Lord, and tell everybody, hey. All my friends. Tell Zach hi and for him to give Zurich a clue. Okay … I love you. I believe in you. And I will talk to you again real soon. Peace out, God!”

  Tears began to roll down Sean’s face, and the cool wind dried them. Talking to God made Sean feel strong, sure of himself. He took a deep breath of the cool air, and suddenly, he knew who he was and what he wanted. He felt cleansed by his talk and the wind seemed to vitalize him with a surge of hope. He had the feeling of satisfaction that came from making a positive step in life, a big step. Sean blew a kiss toward the sky and moon and went back to his apartment and slept.

  When the arctic wind blows off Lake Michigan, it becomes hard to remember the power of the sun. It was the second week of December, and as the city prepared for Christmas, Mia Miller and Tamela received an early Christmas present. Mia got the call Monday evening, and Tuesday morning Tamela’s phone rang.

  “So was it the ribbon?” Tamela asked.

  “Yes and no,” Karen said. “Let’s just say it was the ribbon and the Rolex.”

  “The Rolex? I don’t remember a Rolex,” Tamela said.

  “We didn’t know anything about it either. Ms. Miller had forgotten she was wearing the watch the night of the attack. When I went to meet Ms. Tucker, she was wearing a Rolex watch. When I mentioned how nice it was, she told me her son had given it to her. I got back to my office and called Mia, and asked her if she had a Rolex. She said, ‘Yes,’ but the next day she called and said she couldn’t find it and forgot the last time she had it on,” Karen said.

  “So what happened?” Tamela asked with an excited voice, as if she was getting close to the end of a tough mystery.

  “Well, I went back to see Ms. Tucker, told her my concerns about her gifts, and mentioned how possession of stolen property was a federal offense.” Karen paused. “And the next morning she was in my office with her son. He confessed to everything.”

  “So he admitted raping her?”

  “DeAndre said Mia invited him into her car to drink. When he got in the car, he said she began flirting with him and didn’t have on any underwear. When she asked how old he was, he told her, and then Mia told him to get out of her car. He didn’t take that so well.”

  “What did Ms. Miller say?”

  “I didn’t go into a lot of what DeAndre said. I just told her we found her watch and we were pretty certain the thief was the same man who raped her. We have a written confession from the young man, so I don’t know if we will need her testimony. His mother was adamant about him telling the truth.”

  “What’s going to happen to him?”

  “It’s hard to say right now. He’s only a seventeen-year-old. Not like that’s an excuse. But I’m going to see what I can do. He was very remorseful, but we just can’t let it slide,” Karen said.

  “Does he have an attorney?”

  “I’m sure the court will appoint one. Why do you ask?”

  “I’m going to see what I can do. I met his mother and I was really impressed with how she was trying to keep her family together. I want to see if I can help,” Tamela said.

  “I’m sure she’d appreciate that,” Karen said.

  “Thanks for calling me. We still have to do lunch,” Tamela said.

  “Let’s give it a shot at the beginning of the year.”

  “I’ll give you a call. Merry Christmas, Karen.”

  “Thanks a lot. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you also.”

  CHAPTER 28

  MERRY CHRISTMAS, BABY

  On Christmas Eve, a sudden snowfall silenced the city. Small flakes flickered in the darkness, dancing on a cold wind, like a magic carpet. Tamela and Caliph walked down a quiet tree-lined street near her apartment building to enjoy the beauty of the surprise. A serene wind caused the trees to sway as if they were slow dancing.

  “This is beautiful,” Tamela said as she and Caliph stopped in front of a triplex townhouse decorated from top to bottom with thousands of tiny red, green, and white lights. The snow appeared lavender when the lights hit it.

  “Yeah,” it’s nice. This reminds me of my neighborhood down South at Christmas. People didn’t have a lot of money, but they sure made it feel like Christmas.”

  Her hands covered with mittens, Tamela brushed snowflakes from Caliph’s face and asked, “So, how you doing?”

  He touched her cold cheek and tucked a wisp of her hair under the red skullcap she was wearing and in his trademark humor quipped, “I ain’t brand new, but I’ll do.”

  “You’ll do just fine,” Tamela said as she kissed his cold lips.

  “What do you want for Christmas?” Caliph asked. He had already purchased a stunning set of pearls to replace the fake ones he had seen her wear.

  “I already have it,” Tamela said. She thought, Now I know you got me something, don’t make me take back that leather parka I bought

  “What do you mean, you already have it?”

  “I’m happy. I’ve got my health. In March, I’ll have my own practice. I have you. What more could I want?” Tamela smiled.


  “So you’re really going to open the door to your own office? I’m so proud of you,” Caliph said.

  “Thanks to Zurich Robinson and Gina DeMarco, my dream—my professional one, that is—will come true.”

  “You think you and Gina will be good officemates? I didn’t think you sorority girls liked to mix it up,” Caliph teased. He was talking about Tamela’s plans to share an office in the old Lincoln Park townhouse Gina was converting into space, and the fact that Gina was an AKA and not a Delta like Tamela.

  “Oh, that’s college stuff. I think Gina and I will do just fine. Two strong black women, making our mark in the world. But I’ve been thinking about asking somebody else to join me,” Tamela said.

  “Who?”

  “Warner,” Tamela said.

  “The white guy who works in your office?”

  “Yes. What do you think?”

  “It sounds cool to me. But you don’t sound like you’re sure,” Caliph said.

  “Well, you know I told you he was gay.”

  “And?”

  “And? Is that all you have to say?”

  “What does him being gay have to do with his lawyer skills? You’ve said he’s a great lawyer, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah, he is. And he mentioned to me that he admired me for striking out on my own and how he wanted to do the same thing. I don’t even know if he would consider going into the practice with me. But let me ask you something,” Tamela said.

  “I’m listening,” Caliph said.

  “What would you do if you had a gay partner. Could you handle that?”

  “Well, you know we do have gay policemen. And if he or she pulled his or her weight as my partner, it wouldn’t make a bit of difference to me,” Caliph said firmly.

  “I guess you’re right,” Tamela said.

  “Of course I’m right. You’re talking ’bout a business partner. Not somebody to share your bed. I got that covered,” he smiled.

  “You’re right. If things with my practice go the way I expect, I sure could use the help of somebody like Warner. And in the process learn something,” Tamela said.

  “You know, I coulda helped you solve the Miller case, if you’d asked me,” Caliph said.

  “I know. But to be real honest, I didn’t know when I started the case I would become a detective. I’m just happy I was able to help.”

  “How do you think the young lady is doing?”

  “I don’t know. I watch her on television and she looks fine. But you never know. I hope she’s doing all right.”

  “Me, too. You ready to go home?” Caliph asked.

  “Sure, let’s go,” Tamela said.

  After they walked a couple of blocks, holding hands in silence, Caliph asked Tamela if she was nervous about meeting his daughter, Whitney, later on Christmas Day.

  “No, should I be?”

  “I’m telling you, you two are going to love each other right away,” Caliph said.

  “Are you nervous about meeting my folks?” Tamela asked. Blanche had been planning as if Harry Belafonte and Billy Dee Williams were coming just to see her. She had called over a hundred times reviewing every single detail of the menu and what she was going to wear. Tamela had jokingly warned her mother, no wool scooter skirts with matching vests.

  “I’m actually looking forward to meeting your people,” Caliph said.

  “It’s been quite a fall,” Tamela said.

  “Yeah, it has. But meeting you made it worth it every day,” Caliph said.

  “Even with the hard time I gave you?”

  “I wasn’t bothered; I knew you’d come around.”

  “Oh, you did? How so?”

  “We were made for each other. Soulmates.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so.”

  “So you spending the night?” Tamela asked as they came to the door of her apartment building.

  “You want me to?”

  “You know I do. But I realize you have to play Santa Claus in the morning.”

  “Yeah, I do. Got to fix that training bike,” Caliph said.

  “My alarm clock works.”

  “Oh it does?”

  As Tamela slipped her key in the lobby door, she looked at Caliph and smiled, “But if it doesn’t, we could find something to do all night to make sure we don’t oversleep.”

  “And you know it,” Caliph said. While waiting for the elevator, Tamela and Caliph noticed they were standing under mistletoe. They shared a sensual smile until Caliph brought his mouth to hers, and their lips brushed gently as she took his tongue into her mouth like nourishment, like love. When they took a minute to breathe, Caliph whispered in her ear, “Merry Christmas, baby. Caliph’s gonna treat you right.”

  When Mia left the Channel 3 studio on Christmas evening, she had every intention of going home, crawling into her bed with a good book and a bottle of champagne. It was the holidays and a little bit of the bubbly would be all right, she thought. In a couple of days she would be heading home to Dallas, and she was still trying to decide what she would tell her parents.

  Mia was relieved they had found the guy who attacked her, but it did not solve the internal struggles she was still dealing with on a day-to-day basis. She was using sleep and work to fill the empty spaces in her life and learning that pain had its comfort. After DeAndre was arrested, another memory of the night came back to Mia. And even though she couldn’t recall his face, she remembered his man-child smile, his kettledrum voice, and his offering Mia some of the rum he had in a silver flask. Mia had a memory of saying, “No, you’re too young,” and how DeAndre in anger at her rejection had hit her hard. The pain had been indescribable. Mia had seen showers of stars cross her face and then she’d passed out. When she awoke, daybreak had come, and Mia pulled her dress back on her shoulders and drove home.

  Just as Mia was placing her keys into her car, she heard a voice call her name. For a moment she felt nervous, her heart racing and her mind frozen. When she turned around, she saw Derrick walking toward her with his arms filled with roses, a dozen red and a dozen white.

  “Derrick, what are you doing here?” She was surprised to see him, and she walked quickly to give him a hug and a kiss on the lips.

  “Merry Christmas, Mia. I woke up this morning and you were on my mind. I dropped off my family’s presents and caught a plane,” Derrick said. “These are for you,” he said as he placed the bundle of roses in Mia’s arms.

  “Oh, thank you, Derrick. These are beautiful,” Mia said as tears began to form in her eyes.

  Derrick noticed this and asked, “What are those tears about?”

  “All day I was thinking how alone I was. And now … you. Well, I’m just a little bit surprised,” Mia said as the tears rolled sideways off the corners of her eyes. Her eyes were wide, balancing her tears. She was thinking of Derrick’s kindness and gentleness, two qualities she had always desired in men.

  “What are your plans? I know you don’t cook. But what say we go back to your place and let me cook you up a Christmas omelet? You do have eggs, don’t you?”

  “I think so, and that sounds like a great idea,” Mia said. When she said yes, Derrick’s face expanded in a smile of the purest pleasure. Mia gazed at his smile and his eyes as if in a trance. Mia wanted that same joy and pleasure, so she asked Derrick how he had come to this point in his life.

  Derrick replied, “I admitted to myself that I was powerless over alcohol, that my life had become unmanageable. That I had to seek and enjoy the miracle and blessings in each day.” At that moment, Mia realized she needed to admit that she, too, was powerless over alcohol. And yet the realization was not painful. It seemed to give Mia a sense of peace she had not known in years. After so much fear and pain, her face relaxed into the relief of knowing the pain was over for now.

  She smiled at Derrick and asked, “Did you rent a car?”

  “Yeah, it’s right over there,” Derrick said as he pointed to a green Neon.

  “Then follow
me,” Mia said. Just as she was getting ready to turn over the ignition, she called out Derrick’s name. When he turned, Mia smiled and said, “Thanks, Derrick. Merry Christmas.” Derrick softly touched her face and asked, “Where did that smile come from?”

  “It’s my miracle,” Mia said. She had rediscovered her smile, and even though it faded when she got into her car, she knew her smiles would return. She looked at the red roses as a symbol of passion and thought of Derrick, and then smelled the white roses of hope and thought of herself. The flowers evoked another memory for Mia. On Christmas Day, Mia recaptured what it was like to be happy.

  When Sean arrived at his apartment Christmas evening, he felt a sense of peace. He had spent the day with Anja and Gerald, playing Santa Claus for his nephew. They had ended the wonderful day by joining Marilyn for an inspirational service at the Unity Baptist Church in Brooklyn.

  Since his rooftop conversation with God, Sean’s love affair with sadness was over. He was looking forward to flying to Atlanta the next morning and spending the rest of the holiday week with his parents and his brother. He couldn’t wait to watch the football games, and maybe put back on some of the weight his depression had melted away, with his mother’s good cooking. The last thing on his mind when he turned the key to his building’s entrance was an unexpected visitor.

  “Hey, Blackman,” he heard a resonant voice say. When he turned around he saw Zurich Robinson standing in front of him looking fantastic. He was wearing a navy blue cashmere overcoat, with a tomato red silk scarf tucked neatly inside the coat.

  “Zurich?! What are you doing here?”

  “Merry Christmas, buddy. Our last game was yesterday in Philadelphia. I decided to take the train up and surprise you,” he said.

  “How did you know where I lived?”

  “Remember, you gave me a card when we first met. I also talked with Gina a couple of days ago to make sure I had the right address,” Zurich said.

  Sean was in a state of shock. He had thought of Zurich a lot, but didn’t think he would see him again so soon. He wanted to make sure he could keep his feelings intact, but here Zurich was standing before him. He didn’t know what to say, so he decided to stick with safe ground.