“And now it’s your turn.”
The waitress brought their plates, and after they were settled, Deborah bowed her head and prayed. When she looked up, Phoebe was smiling at her.
“I haven’t done that in a long time.”
Deborah merely smiled and laid her napkin on her lap.
“In fact, I haven’t seen anyone do that in a long time. Boy, that brings back memories, though—of going to church with my grandmother.”
“In Detroit?”
She nodded. “Every Sunday and many days in between. Sunday school, Bible study, prayer meetings, youth groups. Whatever was going on, Lavelle and I had to be there. His daddy was the preacher.”
Deborah couldn’t hide her surprise. Judging from Phoebe’s description of her childhood with Lavelle, it seemed there wasn’t much difference from the way she herself had grown up. But she and Lavelle both seemed so different from her now. They did things that made her blush even when she thought about them.
“Lavelle and I used to sing in the choir, and we would have those seats rocking,” Phoebe continued.
Deborah laughed. “It seems we all got started that way. I sang the solo almost every week.”
“Girl, you just had one solo a week? Lavelle and I sang a solo or duet on every song. People came to church just to hear the concert.”
“Do you still go to church?”
Phoebe shook her head. “It’s hard on the road. And when I get home, all I want to do is rest. Plus”—she paused and dropped her eyes—“the last time I went to church, one of the deacons told me that he didn’t like the last video I made. He said it dishonored God.” She took a sip of water. “I haven’t been back since.”
“Sometimes, people can be judgmental, but you shouldn’t let anyone keep you from your relationship with God.”
Phoebe nodded as if she agreed. “But you can’t go to church on the road, either. What do you do?”
“It’s hard. I try to read my Bible every day, and I pray a lot.”
Phoebe looked thoughtful. “Next time you’re praying, would you say a little prayer for me?”
Deborah smiled. “I’d be glad to, but maybe tomorrow morning we could have Bible study together.”
Phoebe shook her head. “I don’t think so; just the next time you’re talking to Him, remember my name. Anyway,” she said quickly, wanting to change the subject, “have you ever thought about going solo?”
The question surprised Deborah. “No. When I used to dream about singing, I saw myself as a solo singer, but I think it’ll be a while before I think about that.”
“Why? You’re really good.”
Deborah shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought of anything much since I began singing with Lavelle. I’ve just been working.”
Phoebe leaned across the table. “Let me give you a little piece of advice. Always think about your career. Always be looking for the next gig.”
“Really? I would think that you’d want to get settled with a group first and learn the ropes.”
Phoebe shook her head emphatically. “Oh no, honey. No one is settled in this business. Everyone is looking for the next best thing. You never know what’s going to happen, so you have to look out for yourself.”
The look on Deborah’s face told Phoebe that she was confused. “Don’t worry, honey. It’s always good to have someone on your side, and I’ll look out for you.” Deborah smiled, and Phoebe patted her hand. “You’ll be all right with me.”
Deborah sighed. There was so much to learn in this business.
They chatted and laughed through the rest of lunch and continued all the way back to the hotel. It was the first really enjoyable time she’d had on the road. When they returned to the hotel, Phoebe gave Deborah a hug.
“I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed myself so much.”
“Me too, Phoebe. I guess I’ll see you in Ohio.”
“Yeah, and we’ll have to do this again. I have to check something with the front desk, so I’ll see you later.”
As Phoebe walked away, Vianca came off the elevator. Her eyes narrowed, and she stomped over to Deborah. “So I see you really are hanging out with Ms. Phoebe,” she said.
“We had a nice lunch,” Deborah said, walking into the gift shop.
“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Vianca rolled her eyes as she followed Deborah into the store. “I guess now you’ll be spending all your time with her.”
Deborah stared at Vianca. “What’s this about? I had one lunch with her, and you sound like you’re jealous.”
“I don’t have anything to be jealous about,” Vianca protested. With her lips pursed, she walked over to the magazine stand and picked up one of the tabloids. “Well, looky here.”
Vianca’s lips spread into a smile as Deborah looked down at the magazine in her hand. The cover of The Grapevine was filled with a photograph of Triage and Tia, the hottest African American model on the European runways. They were embracing in what looked like an elevator.
“So I guess your man decided to hang with Tia while you were away.” Vianca smiled and glanced at Deborah.
Deborah stared at the picture, then looked up and smiled. “I keep telling you Triage and I are just friends.”
“Um-hmm, then why do you have tears in your eyes?”
Deborah couldn’t believe Vianca’s hurtful words, and she was tempted to fight back. But instead she turned to the cashier and purchased a copy of Essence magazine.
“So you’re not upset?” Vianca asked. When Deborah remained silent, Vianca said, “I know I would be if he were my man.”
As Deborah took her magazine she said, “Vianca, instead of being all in my business, maybe you should spend more time trying to keep Lavelle in your bed instead of having him wandering the halls when you’re asleep!”
Deborah stomped out of the store, but not before she saw the pain that spread over Vianca’s face. She was relieved that an elevator was already waiting, and when she was inside, she pressed the Close Door button as quickly as she could. She leaned against the mirrored panel and closed her eyes. She wished she hadn’t said those words. Deborah knew that Vianca had to know what was going on with Lavelle. But for her own reasons, Vianca chose to ignore it.
There was no reason for her to affront her friend that way—except for one. Vianca had gotten under her skin with that talk about Triage. She had been hurt, and she wanted to hurt back. But what Deborah couldn’t figure out was why. If she and Triage were just friends, why did she react to his picture that way? And why did she feel like crying?
CHAPTER 26
DEBORAH LOOKED OUT THE WINDOW AS THE VAN turned into the circular driveway of the hotel.
“Girl, we should talk more often,” she heard Vianca saying to Kim.
Deborah rolled her eyes. Vianca had avoided her during the ride over to the Mecca and throughout the rehearsal. On the way back, Vianca plopped down next to Kim before Deborah had a chance to say anything.
But as Vianca passed Deborah to get off the van, Deborah tapped her arm gently. “Vianca, can I speak to you for a moment?”
Vianca glared at her, then shrugged her shoulders. “Sure.”
Deborah followed Vianca from the van, then took her hand and led her to the far side of the lobby.
“Vianca, I’ve been trying to talk to you since last night. I am really sorry about what I said yesterday.”
Vianca stared at her with hard eyes and then broke into a smile. “Girl, I know you were kidding.”
Deborah nodded. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
Vianca’s smile disappeared. “I said you were just kidding, right? So why are you going on about this?”
“I’m not . . . I just—”
“Don’t worry about it.” Vianca held up her hand. Her smile returned. “Listen, I have to talk to Kim about something. Let’s get together later, okay?”
Deborah watched Vianca saunter away from her. She knew things were not okay, but there was nothing mor
e that she could do, and she took the elevator to her room.
There were still a few hours of daylight left, and Deborah stared into the sapphire sky. The clouds that rolled past looked soft to the touch.
Deborah sighed and basked in the beauty of God’s creation. With all that was going on, this scene reminded her of what was important. When she lived in Villa Rica she always took a few minutes each day to appreciate her surroundings, but she hadn’t done it recently. The view outside her window inspired her, and she reached for her journal to write the words to another song.
When she finished, she stared at the words and smiled. There was nothing better than being inspired by the Lord.
CHAPTER 27
THE CITIES WERE PASSING BY, AND A FEW WEEKS later they were in Chicago. The city reminded Deborah of New York—a jungle of concrete occupied by cars and cabs.
They had arrived early, so their calendars were free until the next day. Deborah was looking forward to some time alone, and as she began to unpack the bag on her bed, she heard a knock on the door.
Her mouth dropped with surprise when she peeked through the peephole.
“Triage!”
“Hey, girl,” he said, hugging her.
“What are you doing here? I thought you were wrapped up in some big project. How did you get to Chicago?”
“Whoa, girl.” He closed the door behind him. “Give me a chance.” His eyes roamed up and down her body. “Look at you. You looking good, girl.”
She beamed. “So what are you doing in Chicago?”
“Well . . .” He plopped on the bed. “I had to come see my homegirl, in my hometown. My parents live here in Chicago, remember?”
“I forgot!”
“So I came to see you onstage and to take you to meet my folks. They have a big dinner planned. Tonight!”
“I can’t believe this.”
“So are you ready?”
Deborah glanced at her reflection in the mirror and ran her hand through her hair. “Look at me. I can’t meet your parents like this.”
“Deborah, you look great. It’s just a backyard barbecue.”
She looked in the mirror again. Her black-and-white-striped blouse and white capri pants would just have to do. “Will you at least let me freshen my makeup?”
In the bathroom, Deborah touched up her foundation, then smoothed her lips with gloss. As she puckered her lips, she smiled and then jumped when she heard the knock on the bathroom door.
“Deborah Anne! Get out of that bathroom. You have been summoned. My parents are anxious to meet you!”
The moment they drove up in front of the two-story brick house and Erlene Waters opened the door, Deborah felt at home.
“It’s so good to meet you.” Erlene pulled Deborah into her arms. She was a smaller, younger version of Mother Dobson. “Milton talks about you all the time. His homegirl,” she said, mimicking her son.
“Hey, hey, hey!” Walter Waters rushed into the hallway. “You must be Deborah Anne Peterson. You look just like your mother.”
When he lifted her in a bear hug, Deborah laughed.
“Pops, put her down before you hurt her.” Triage joined in the laughter.
They led her into the large living room, and Deborah took in her surroundings, surprised at how similar the room looked to her parents’ house. The centerpiece in the room was a grand piano that eclipsed the other furniture.
Triage pulled Deborah onto the couch next to him, and even as they chatted with his parents, Deborah was acutely aware of his arm around her shoulders.
“How are your parents, Deborah?” Erlene smiled at her. “I haven’t seen them in years.”
“They’re fine, ma’am. I know they’re going to be excited that I had a chance to meet you.”
“Are you kidding, Deborah? They already know you’re here,” Triage said.
Deborah frowned questioningly.
“My folks may live in the North, but the South still runs through their blood. I’m sure the moment I walked out of here to pick you up, Mama was on the phone to Grandma.”
Walter’s laughter filled the entire room. “Erlene, your son certainly knows his mother. Milton,” he said, turning to Triage, “your mother was on the phone before you put the key in the ignition.”
Erlene pouted playfully. “I’m not paying any attention to either of you. And, Deborah, don’t you pay them any mind.” She stood, straightening her five-foot-two frame. “I’m going to finish dinner. Walter, you need to tend to that barbecue.”
“Is there anything I can help with, Mrs. Waters?”
“Absolutely not. You’re a guest, and I know how busy you are on the road.” She patted Deborah’s hand. “You just relax.” She started toward the kitchen. “Walter, turn on the TV for the kids.”
Walter chuckled, then tossed the remote toward Triage. “I think you kids can turn on the television for yourself.”
They laughed as Walter headed to the backyard.
“Your parents are great,” Deborah said, opening a photo album that sat on the coffee table.
Deborah laughed as Triage grimaced at the pictures that his parents had collected of him and his sisters over the years. When Erlene heard them laughing, she brought out stacks of other albums. They spent an hour going through the pictures until Walter called them into the backyard.
Deborah and Triage helped Erlene carry the food outside, and Deborah was pleased when Walter told them to hold hands and bow their heads, to bless the food.
As they sat down with their plates filled with barbecue chicken and ribs, Walter said, “Milton, you sure are blessed today. Your mother listened to you this time and didn’t tell the whole neighborhood you were coming home.” He turned to Deborah. “Usually, Erlene has everyone on this block stuffed in this house to see her baby.”
Erlene pushed her chin forward. “You think I’m the only one? Deborah, when you get back to Villa Rica, I’m sure it will be the same way. We’re just proud of our children.”
They sat in the backyard until the warm afternoon began to fade into the cool of evening. Inside, they ate pieces of peach cobbler and coconut cake, until Deborah screamed, “No mas!”
It was almost nine when Triage announced that he had to get Deborah back to the hotel.
“Mrs. Waters, I can’t tell you how much fun I’ve had.” Deborah reached for her hands. “And thank you so much for the food. After weeks of restaurants and hotels, this was wonderful.”
“We were glad to have you. You’ve grown up to be such a beautiful young lady.” She touched Deborah’s cheek.
“Now, we’ll see you tomorrow,” Walter said. “Thanks to Milton, we have backstage passes.”
“I’m so excited. I just love Lavelle,” Erlene gushed.
“Geez.” Walter laughed.
“What about your own son?” Triage asked.
They were still laughing as Erlene and Walter walked Triage and Deborah to the car.
By the time Triage walked her to her room, Deborah thought that she couldn’t remember when she’d had a better time.
“Thank you, Triage. I can’t tell you how much today meant to me.”
He took her hand and smiled. “That’s what I wanted. I know how tough road life can be, so I wanted you to have a good time.”
Deborah put her key in the lock, and when she turned around to say good-bye, Triage leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. A gentle kiss, just like the one they shared the night of the premiere.
He pulled away and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He walked away, leaving Deborah with a smile wider than the one she’d been wearing all day.
The next day, Deborah waltzed through rehearsals. During the show, knowing that Triage and his parents were watching, she sang each song from the depths of her soul.
After the show, Triage met her backstage with a huge bouquet of roses. Deborah was surprised at the joy she felt at seeing him.
“Where are your parents?”
“I sent them home in th
e car. Mama was tired, but she said to tell you that you were wonderful. The way she was beaming, you would have thought you were her own daughter.”
Deborah buried her nose in the flowers. “So how long are you going to be in Chicago?”
He looked at his watch. “Actually, I have to be at the airport in an hour.”
She was glad that her back was to him, so he couldn’t see the way her face dropped at this news.
“I have to get back to LA in the morning.”
She forced a smile and turned to face him. “I understand.”
He took a step toward her. “But we’ll see each other in a few weeks, right?”
She lowered her head and nodded. Why did she feel so sad?
“You’ll be finished with the first half of the tour, and I should be just about finished with what I’m working on.” He lifted her chin with the tips of his fingers. “We’ll get to spend some time together.”
She swallowed. “I’m glad you came to Chicago. Thank you.”
He kissed her again and silently walked out the door.
CHAPTER 28
AFTER CHICAGO THEY PLAYED ST. LOUIS, AND THEN they arrived in the hot, humid air of an Atlanta August. Deborah was so excited to be home. She’d spoken to her parents almost every night for the last week, each time listening to her mother recite the growing list of people who were coming to the show.
“I think all of Villa Rica is going to be there to support you,” Virginia had boasted.
Deborah had been excited, but now that they had checked into the Atlanta Regency, jittery nerves began to set in. The ringing phone didn’t give her a chance to give in to them, though.
“Hi, Deborah, it’s Phoebe.”
“Phoebe, I wasn’t sure if you’d be back,” Deborah said, referring to the fact that Phoebe had missed the St. Louis show. “I was so sorry to hear about your grandmother.”
“Thanks,” Phoebe said. “I had to get out of town pretty quickly. But I’m back now.” She sighed.
“Are you up to performing tonight?” Deborah asked.
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