"And give me the courage and the strength to do the right thing about Eric, my parents, and Eric's parents. I've been so wrong, Father. Help me to show love to them the way you've shown love to me. And lastly, Lord, help me to do the right thing by Nate. I thank you for making him the man of God that he is. I thank you that he was willing to walk away from this relationship rather than pretend to be in agreement with my unforgiving attitude. I pray that he'll always show such strength and godliness in our relationship. And I pray that I can be the same way with him. Teach me to love him the way you want him loved. And if I can't do that, please send him a woman who can. It'll hurt me to lose him, but I'll be happy knowing that he's better off with somebody else."
CeCe was still in a prayerful mood when she left the park. She took 78 East to 285 South to 85 South. She was going home. She needed to see her parents. Instead of the dread she usually felt when making the trip to Alabama, this time she felt only excitement. Excitement at seeing her parents again, at having the opportunity to tell them how much she loved them.
She saw them before she pulled into their driveway. Her mother stood in the front door. Her father was working in the yard. Their surprise at seeing her was evident in their faces. Both of them met her at the car.
"Is something wrong?" her mother asked before CeCe could get all the way out of the car.
CeCe's heart hurt at her mother's question. Had she been such a negligent daughter that coming to visit her parents could only be a sign that something was wrong? She knew she had been. "No, Mama," she said, getting fully out of the car. "Everybody's fine. I just wanted to see my mama and daddy and tell them that I love them." She opened her arms and enclosed them both in a big embrace. When she pulled back, her parents' eyes were damp and so were hers.
"What happened, CeCe?" her mother asked. Her father remained quiet, which was his way. As a child she'd always taken comfort in his quiet strength, hidden as it was behind a gruff manner. She'd missed relying on it the last few years.
She put one of her arms in one of each of theirs and led them into the house. "Your daughter is finally growing up, Mama. Don't you think it's about time?"
Once her parents were seated on the couch in their living room, with CeCe in the wing chair across from them, CeCe asked for their forgiveness.
"You don't need forgive—," her mother began, but her father cut her off.
He covered his wife's hand with his. "We forgive you, daughter," he said, his voice gruff but full of love. "We're mighty glad to do it."
"Thank you, Daddy." She got up and gave him a hug. "And you too, Mama." When she pulled back from her mother's embrace, she added, "I've been wrong about David, too. He needs to know his grandparents. I want you two to come visit us in Atlanta. Often. I can come pick you up if you don't want to drive, but I want you to be a part of our lives. I'll also bring David down here to stay with you sometime. Would you like that?"
Her mother couldn't answer for her tears.
Her father answered for both of them. "We'd like that a lot."
And that was that. Just a few words, and everything that had been wrong between her and her parents began to turn around. "I love you both very much," CeCe said again. "I don't want you to forget that. You've been good parents to me, better parents than I realized, but I was so bitter after Eric."
"We know, CeCe," her mother said. "We don't blame you. You were just a girl, and you had a lot to handle."
"Thanks, Mama, but there is something else that I need to tell you. I wasn't just upset with Eric all these years; I was also upset with myself. You see, there's something you don't know." CeCe took a deep breath and told her parents about blackmailing Eric.
"Oh, CeCe," her mother cried. "What a load you had to carry. I wish you could have told us."
CeCe shook her head. "I was too ashamed, Mama. I couldn't tell you. I couldn't tell anybody." Until Nate. "Now I have to make it right with Eric. I'm going to repay the money. First, I have to go see his parents and apologize to them. Hopefully they'll tell me how I can get in touch with him."
Her parents nodded.
"They're pretty bitter themselves, CeCe," her mother warned her. "Eric really hurt them. He doesn't call and he doesn't visit. He's abandoned his parents."
CeCe didn't feel any joy in that knowledge. She'd always assumed Eric had walked away from her and gone on to lead a carefree life. Maybe she'd been wrong.
"Do you want us to go with you when you talk to the Bradshaws?" her father asked.
CeCe shook her head. "I love you for wanting to go, but I have to do this on my own." She looked from one parent to the other. "I'm still not ready for Eric's parents to be part of David's life. I'm not sure when I will be or when David will be. He's just a child, and I don't want to confuse him. Eric's parents will only bring up questions about Eric, and I'm not sure how to address those with David. The Bradshaws can't become part of his life until I know what to tell David. Can you both understand and accept my position?"
"But—," her mother began.
Again her father stopped her mother. "You are David's mother, CeCe. We'll trust you to do the right thing, and we'll respect your wishes."
Her mother nodded. "We will, CeCe. I'm sorry for what I did the last time you were here. I knew you didn't want the Bradshaws to be around David, but I also knew how they felt. He's my grandson too, and I know how much I miss him. It seemed so wrong to deny them a few minutes with him. I guess I was hoping they'd do the same for me if our situations were reversed. Can you forgive me?"
CeCe kissed her mother's cheek. "It's already forgiven. Maybe if I had explained myself better you wouldn't have been forced into that situation. Now I'd better get over to the Bradshaws. I didn't tell anybody I was leaving Atlanta, and I need to get back home before it's too late." She stood up. "I know this is short notice, but the holidays are fast approaching and I'd like you to spend them with us in Atlanta. Miss Brinson is getting married sometime between now and New Year's—the date's not set yet—and I'd like you both to come for the holidays and the wedding. I can pick you up the weekend before Christmas, and you can stay through New Year's. How does that sound?"
She thought her father was going to turn her down when he began moving his head back and forth, but he said, "I think I may be able to get up there on my own. Now that I know we're welcome."
CeCe smiled. "You're more than welcome, both of you." Then she jotted down directions and headed off to the Bradshaws.
* * *
CeCe drew in a deep breath and prayed a silent prayer as she rang the bell to the Bradshaws' home. Mrs. Bradshaw met her at the door. CeCe could read the hope in the older woman's eyes, and she felt compassion for her.
From the front door Mrs. Bradshaw called to her husband, "Harold, CeCe's here."
Mr. Bradshaw came from the kitchen. CeCe knew this because she'd been in this home many times when she was a child. "Hello, Mr. Bradshaw," she said, seeing the same hope in his eyes.
Mr. Bradshaw nodded. Mrs. Bradshaw invited CeCe in and pointed her to a seat in the upholstered rocking club chair. The two of them sat close together on the sofa, hands entwined, presenting a united front.
"I wanted to talk to you about David—," CeCe began.
But before she could finish her statement, Mr. Bradshaw jumped in as if he knew what she was about to say. "We want to see our grandson," he demanded, leaning toward her. "It's not right, you're keeping him away from us."
CeCe understood the Bradshaws' frustration and their pain, and she knew there was little she could do to ease it. "This is not about rights, Mr. Bradshaw," she said, keeping her voice even and direct. "It's about a four-year-old boy whose biological father wants nothing to do with him. How will I explain to David that he has grandparents but that he has no father?"
"What do you tell him now?" Mr. Bradshaw asked.
She looked down and studied her fingers before speaking. "I tell him that his father can't be with him right now. And I teach him that he has a heave
nly Father who's always there for him. That explanation has been enough so far, but if you start coming around, it won't be enough for long." She sighed. "I don't want to lie to David, but neither do I want to tell him that his father doesn't want anything to do with him. Not now. He's too young to understand."
Mrs. Bradshaw began to sob. "We’re so ashamed, CeCe," she began between sniffles. "For Eric's actions and for our own. We should have been there for you even if Eric wasn't, but we tried to support our son. It seemed the right thing to do at the time."
Mr. Bradshaw patted his wife's knee. "Eric has been a big letdown for us," he said, his earlier defiance gone. "We haven't seen him but two or three times since he got married. When he comes in this direction with Yolanda, they stay with her folks over the state line in Columbus. Most of the time Eric doesn't even come home when Yolanda does. It's like he wants to forget he has a family, a hometown."
"Maybe it's more than that, Mr. Bradshaw," CeCe suggested.
Both Bradshaws looked at her, questions in their eyes.
"Don't be too hard on Eric," she found herself saying. "Maybe he's ashamed of everything that's happened. Maybe that's why he won't come home. I know my shame kept me away. I'd like to get in touch with Eric, if you'll tell me how to reach him." CeCe wasn't sure how much Eric had told them, and she didn't want to get into the blackmail again, so she settled for a simple, "I owe him some money that I want to repay."
"I'll get you his address and number," Mrs. Bradshaw said. She got up from her seat next to her husband and left the room.
"Do you really think it could be shame that's keeping Eric away?" Mr. Bradshaw asked, hope again in his eyes. CeCe knew the hope was that one day his son would be a part of his life again.
CeCe nodded. "I'm not sure, but it's a definite possibility, Mr. Bradshaw."
The older man inclined his head slightly. "You said you felt shame. You don't feel it anymore?"
CeCe shook her head. "Not anymore."
"Why?" Mr. Bradshaw asked.
She met and held Mr. Bradshaw's gaze with confidence. "Because the past is gone, and I can't change it. God has given me a present and hope for a future. I want to live both to the fullest. I can't do that by dwelling in the past. Eric and I were kids, Mr. Bradshaw. I was twenty-one and he was twenty-two, but we were still kids just learning what it meant to be adults. I'm still learning. Eric probably is still learning too."
Mr. Bradshaw nodded as Mrs. Bradshaw returned. "Here's his latest number," she said, handing CeCe a slip of paper. "Don't be surprised if you call and he's not home. He's never there when we call. At least that's what Yolanda says."
CeCe took the paper. "Thank you so much," she said. "I'm sorry about David, but for right now, it has to be this way."
Mr. Bradshaw nodded. "We don't blame you, CeCe. You have to do what's right for the boy. We just wanted to get to know him. We've lost so much. Our son and now our grandson."
CeCe's heart went out to the Bradshaws, and she wished she could give them the answer they wanted, but she couldn't. Not right now. Maybe after she talked to Eric, but not right now.
"I'm sorry," she said again. Then she left.
* * *
"This sure looks good, Mrs. Murphy," Nate said to the widow whose front-porch steps he'd just repaired. While he'd been visiting, he'd noticed the warped board and decided to replace it for the elderly lady. "Your red velvet cake is the best I've ever eaten."
"Aw, go on, Nate," the older woman said, her voice full of fondness for him. "You'll eat anything that's not tied down. Don't you think I know that by now?"
Nate stabbed his fork into the cake and shoveled a large piece into his mouth. "Mmm, mmm, good," he said. "Will you marry me, Mrs. Murphy?"
"Hey, what are you doing, Nate?"
Nate turned around and saw Stuart strolling up Mrs. Murphy's walk, a big grin on his face.
"Only one woman to a man," Stuart said as he reached the porch. He pulled Mrs. Murphy into a big hug and said over her head, "You've got yours, so I get Mrs. Murphy."
Mrs. Murphy pulled out of Stuart's arms and propped her fragile hands on her thin hips. "You're not foolin' anybody, Stuart Rogers. You just want a piece of my cake for yourself."
Stuart pressed his hand to his heart. "That's true, but it doesn't mean I don't want to marry you. What do you say? We could run off together and open a bakery."
Mrs. Murphy laughed, shaking her head. "Both of you sit down." She pointed a bony finger at Stuart. "I'll bring you a piece of cake, and both of you some milk." Then she left the two men on the porch, murmuring something about "growing boys."
"What are you doing down here?" Nate asked Stuart, sticking another piece of cake in his mouth, as both men seated themselves on Mrs. Murphy's top step. The December day was clear, and the air held only a slight chill that demanded no more than a jacket and long sleeves.
"Looking for you," Stuart said. "You had to be down here in Robinwood or over at CeCe's. Something told me that you weren't at CeCe's."
Before Nate could respond, Mrs. Murphy returned with a tray loaded with Stuart's cake and two glasses of milk. She was about to speak when her phone rang. "You two share this," she said. "I've got to get the phone."
Both men smiled as the elderly woman went back into the house. "She's a sweetheart, isn't she?" Stuart said, diving into his cake.
Nate took one of the glasses of milk and swigged down a gulp. "The best. So why were you looking for me?"
Stuart set down his plate and picked up his glass of milk. "Thanks to you, I have a houseguest."
"Marvin."
Stuart nodded.
"I guess I'm not surprised," Nate said. "How long are you going to let him stay?"
Stuart shook his head as if weary at the thought. "I don't know, man. I just don't know. What could I do when the brother showed up? This holiday season is an especially rough time for both him and Shay."
Nate pressed a fist against his forehead. "Oh, man, I didn't even think about the holidays. I don't know what I was thinking. I could have let him stay through the holidays. I'll have to apologize. What I did to him was cold."
Stuart was shaking his head. "No, you don't have to apologize, and what you did wasn't cold."
Nate stared at him. "You're kidding, right?"
Stuart shook his head. "Those were Marvin's words. Guess what? Now he's worried about you!"
"Me? Marvin's worried about me?" Nate couldn't keep the surprise and hope out of his voice.
"Yes, you," Stuart said. "I was surprised too. Surprised, but glad. You finally got the brother to think about somebody other than himself. There's hope for him yet."
Nate was dumbfounded. He'd kicked Marvin out when he was down, and now Marvin was worried about him. "Well, he ought to start worrying about Shay. Marvin needs to stop hiding and face his fears. Shay's right there waiting for him. Why can't he see it?"
"That's the same question Marvin asked about you." Stuart peered at his friend over his glass of milk. "Why can't you see how much CeCe loves you?"
Caught off guard, Nate almost spilled his milk. "What's this got to do with CeCe and me?"
"Everything. Nothing."
"What kind of answer is that?"
Stuart took another swallow of milk. "You tell me. What's up with you and CeCe? You've been down in the mouth for weeks now. Marvin commented on that, too, by the way. Are CeCe and her work still bothering you?"
When Nate didn't immediately answer, Stuart said, "I love you like a brother, Nate. So does Marvin. We want to help if we can."
Nate took a deep breath. He knew he'd been keeping his thoughts and feelings about his relationship with CeCe bottled up, and he realized now that wasn't a good idea. Not if it resulted in his treating badly the people he loved most. "It's rough, man. I love her and want to marry her, and she says she loves me and wants to be my wife, but..." Nate thought about CeCe's work, Eric, CeCe's relationship with her parents. So much seemed to stand between them.
"But w
hat?"
"But sometimes love is not enough." Nate then proceeded to tell Stuart about Eric and the reason CeCe was working so much. "I can't get her to see that she's going about it all wrong. The simple solution to this whole matter is for her to call the guy, ask for forgiveness, and arrange some repayment schedule. Why can't she see that?"
Stuart didn't answer, and Nate watched as his friend took two more bites of his cake. "So you don't have anything to say?" Nate asked when he grew tired of waiting for a response.
"So you think CeCe is in love with this guy? You really think that?"
Nate searched his heart. Did he really think that? The way Stuart posed the question made it sound ridiculous. "Not really," he said, "but what if she does? She says she loves me and I believe her, but..."
"But Naomi said she loved you, too."
Nate nodded. How could a person really know what was in another person's heart? "I try not to think about that, try not to make the comparisons, but I can't seem to stop myself."
Stuart swallowed another bite of cake. "Let me ask you something, Nate. You're always talking about how God taught you a lot from your relationship with Naomi. What exactly did he teach you?"
Nate considered his friend's question. What had been the basic lesson? "To wait on God. To be sure of his voice and not go speeding off on my own."
"Have you done that with CeCe?"
Nate nodded. He thought he had. He'd certainly tried. If it were left up to him and his timing, his ring would be on CeCe's finger and they'd have a date set for the wedding.
"Then I don't see the problem."
Nate's cake lost its flavor, and he put down his plate and his fork. "I love her, and I'm losing her—that's the problem. Losing her to some guy from her past."
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