by Pat Simmons
In hindsight, Trey should've arrested Malcolm the moment he lunged at him. "No, I chose to push my Holy Ghost aside. My flesh had some fun at the expense of shaming God." He was sure Malcolm was taking pleasure in calling him one of God's hypocrites. "Why didn't you stop me, Lord?"
Going into his bedroom, Trey didn't undress, but removed his gun holster as he fell on his knees. Sighing, he unloaded, praying for forgiveness. "Lord, I slipped last night. I know I've disappointed you. I've failed you by not using your restraining power. I've quoted Romans 12:21 so many times on my job, Be not overcome with evil, but overcome evil with good. Yet, when it came time for a trial, I forgot it. Lord, please don't let me lose your favor or become a hindrance in Malcolm's salvation. Amen." Trey heaved his body on the mattress and fell asleep.
I have forgiven you. Do not be angry about what you saw today. It's my will that Hallison and Malcolm are together, God spoke.
"What!" Trey slurred as he stirred.
God continued, You are the vessel I have chosen to accomplish that task. Finish that work that I have begun through you.
Trey rolled over, alarmed. When he didn't get enough rest, he had the wildest dreams, sometimes nightmares. After Trey got up, showered, shaved, and performed other grooming necessities, he couldn't shake the dream. Did God really speak to him? If so, was it ludicrous to hand over the woman he loved? Not to any man, but to Malcolm? It was absurd, but the nightmare got stranger. God said not to mention a word of His plan to Hallison.
God didn't say anything about talking to Malcolm, but Trey wasn't feeling that. The request was almost enough to cause Trey to backslide in rebellion.
Let no man take your crown, God whispered Revelation 3:11.
Trey gritted his teeth in frustration. "How did I become a main character to advance God's story?" In the past, when God spoke, Trey listened and tried to obey, but this was emotional suicide. He needed confirmation. Opening his Bible, he scanned the pages, looking for a scripture.
Instead God spoke again, I will present you faultless before the presence of my glory with exceeding joy.
Frustrated and still confused, Trey picked up the phone. His brother was a skillful listener who could decipher meanings behind words without explanation. Once Emmanuel answered, Trey recapped the entire scenario, starting from Malcolm pounding on Hallison's door to his dream.
"You almost got in a fight?" Emmanuel couldn't stop laughing. It was as if he didn't hear a word about what God had instructed Trey.
"No, key word, I did get in a fight with Hallison's ex."
Emmanuel hollered, barked, and spit out a laugh. Finally, he sobered. "You're going to lose your Holy Ghost or career over some fool?"
God had already chastised Trey, so he didn't need another reprimand. "E, listen. God said Malcolm was Hallison's blessing for her obedience and steadfastness to His Word. What about my blessing? What about my obedience to God? What about me?"
His brother sighed. "Hmm. That's deep. At least we know God is still in the blessing business," he said solemnly.
"Man, did you hear me? Evidently, I'm not a part of Hallison's blessing."
"Trey, calm down. You must've found favor with God for such a heavy task. I don't know what to say. All I know is God doesn't always reveal the whole picture. Look at Job, Abraham sacrificing Isaac, or Moses' forty years in the wilderness."
"I don't want to be lost in the wilderness for forty years! God mentioned He's preparing my wife. I wish I'd known that before I proposed. The future Mrs. Washington must be a nutcase. It seems as if I'm the go-between man between Hali and Malcolm because she needed encouragement. Malcolm needed to be brought to his knees. He wanted no part of a godly life, so He sent Malcolm a woman who was not after His own heart."
"I need to see you work this. How about a double date?"
"E, you aren't helping."
"You don't need my help, my brother. God's got your back. Just remember, Paula is mine."
* * *
"We need to talk," Malcolm told Lisa on his way back to the office after seeing a client. Two days had passed since Lisa's showdown at the hospital. Since then, Malcolm had done a lot of soul searching.
"I tried to give you time with your family, but I've been waiting for you to call. You want to have dinner at my house or yours?" Lisa replied.
"Neither. I'm in Chesterfield. How about meeting me halfway at the Gashouse Grill in Creve Coeur? I know the owner and can eat him out of his sweet potato fries. We might as well grab a bite to eat there."
"That's doable. Although I prefer for you to pick me up. Oh, how is Cheney? I've been sending good vibes her way. I hope she liked the flowers from Gertie's Garden."
"She received them," Malcolm said, becoming bored with the conversation. "Thank you, Lisa. We appreciated it. See you in a few."
Hours later, Malcolm relaxed on the patio outside Gashouse Grill, waiting for Lisa. He had already put away two orders of sweet potato fries. When she pulled into the lot, Malcolm stood. By the time Lisa parked, Malcolm was at her car door.
"Hi," she said, breathless. "Sorry I'm late."
Malcolm kissed her cheek and swept his arm out for her to lead the way back to the patio. In her classic black attire, she swayed her hips with the wind. Malcolm shook his head. What a waste. Pointing to their table, he held out her chair before he sat. They ordered and ate, and then Malcolm unloaded his memorized speech. "Lisa—"
She reached out and laid her hand on top of his. "I overreacted the other day. I'm secure in your feelings for me." She paused, lifted her face in superiority, and sighed. "It's another bump in the road in our relationship, but we can work out the kinks." She displayed a bright, enticing smile.
Loosening her hold, Malcolm leaned back. He formed a teepee when he folded his hands. Even though her eyes were pulling at him, he blinked to break her spell and looked away. Finally, he cleared his throat and carefully explained his position. "I have three don'ts, Lisa: Don't you ever, ever lay your hands on Hallison again. The woman has too much class for that, and I thought you did, too." He glared as she gasped in shock, but he continued. "The Jamiesons are a proud family. Babies in our family are a big deal. Losing little Parke was a generation lost. For you to say Cheney can have another one was not only the worst timed comment I've ever heard, it was callous, too. We don't know if another baby will come from her womb."
"Sorry, but I like to deal in reality. Sometimes I get emotional, but rarely. I didn't know." Suddenly moisture covered her eyes, hinting at her sincerity.
"I know you didn't." He squeezed her hands, accepting her apology. Very few people could comprehend his family's obsession with the birth of Parke VII. An African ceremony, savings bonds, yearly treasures stored away, and property listed in his name for later use and more were waiting for him at his birth. No one outside his family would understand the depth of their celebration.
"I'll send her more flowers. The Sympathy Ship is our most popular."
"That won't be necessary, which brings me to my next point. The past few days have been a wake-up call for me.
"I saw God's power of life and death. I also witnessed how my brother and sister-in-law are recovering despite the loss. While they were holding it together, I broke down. I don't know if He was listening, but I talked to Jesus. Lisa, my life can't continue as it is—unsettled. I don't know if Jesus has all my answers, but I want to find out. Care to join me on this spiritual expedition?"
"I can't."
"Why?" If Lisa had the same aversion to religion, he could understand. It had taken him a year, and losing two people close to him, for him to wake and smell the flowers from Gertie's Garden.
"Malcolm, I practice Wicca," she stated boldly as if he should've known.
He froze, waiting for any sign that she was joking. She didn't blink, but he exhaled. Parke was right. It did get worse. He was dating a modern day witch. No wonder he felt he was being pulled in two opposite directions. "Well, I'm not a warlock or whatever the male counterpa
rt is. I'm not into that. Our relationship isn't going to work."
"I'm not ready to let you go."
"I am." He reached into his back pocket for his wallet to pay their bill.
"It's because of Hallison, isn't it?"
"Unfortunately, Hallison is engaged, but I'm finally hearing what she, and my brother, and sister-in-law have been telling me for a long time. I've got nothing to lose by trying Jesus."
"It’s possible you could lose me."
Malcolm didn't say anything, but he sure did think that may not be a bad thing.
Chapter Thirty-one
When Hallison opened her front door, Trey was leaning against the doorjamb with a large bouquet of flowers and a smile. "Hi."
Hallison stood on her toes and brushed a kiss against his lips. He swiftly wrapped his arms around her, causing her to squirm. His embrace was also a death grip, as if he were saving her from drowning.
"Sorry, baby. I've missed you."
She grinned. "Can't fault a man for loving a woman. I missed you, too." She stepped back to let him in. She closed her eyes and inhaled his cologne, which drifted in after him. Their clothes matched, different shades, but the same color scheme of mint green or sage. The most important thing was their souls matched.
He whistled. He shook his head and whistled again. "You look gorgeous," Trey complimented as he strolled to her sofa and relaxed. His eyes seemed to dance as he followed her on the way to the kitchen with the flowers. Hallison thought she saw a flash of longing. She surmised he was ready to set a date.
Trey shouted from the living room, "What's the latest with Cheney and Parke? I haven't seen them since I took her flowers early—real early—the morning after she lost the baby."
Hallison walked out the kitchen, arranging the flowers. She thanked God he didn't find her in Malcolm's arms as she found herself when she awoke. Malcolm had still been knocked out, but she was able to slip from under his arms. That was one scenario Trey wouldn't have understood.
"It's going to take time for them to emotionally recover. Let's continue to pray for them and Tavia, too. She's halfway through her chemotherapy."
He nodded. "I haven't stopped since you told me."
"Me either. You know Parke and Cheney really wanted that baby. I also want to mention Malcolm."
"If you must," Trey said dryly as Hallison gathered her purse and keys from her sofa table.
She chuckled. "Trey, be nice. I believe the prayer in the hospital helped calm his spirit."
Standing, Trey reached for her hand. "Speaking of prayer, I could use a short one right now myself."
Alarmed, Hallison squinted, studying his face. "Is everything all right?"
"Can't a man get a little prayer every now and then?" he teased.
Hallison seemed suspicious. People didn't ask for prayer randomly. Either they or someone close was going through something. There were no intentional secrets between them, so Hallison shrugged away the negative thoughts. Bowing their heads, Hallison led, praying for strength, encouragement, and the Jamiesons. After they said amen, she ran back into her bedroom to grab her banana-and sage-colored shawl that complemented her attire and strappy shoes—a gift from Alexis from one of her shoe safari parties after seeing Hallison's dress.
During the thirty-minute drive downtown, Trey's conversation was filled with spiritual growth and recognizing the voice of God.
"You know I'm back with the Lord today because I recognized His voice. I didn't want to hear it. I wasn't seeking Him, but God was talking to me, whether I wanted to hear it or not," Hallison reminded him.
"His ways are not our ways neither is His will our will," Trey said, paraphrasing Isaiah 55:8.
Hallison chuckled and squeezed his hand. "Just think, I responded to God out of obedience. God sent you to me, and I thank Him." She turned their linked hands over to brush a kiss against his knuckles. Before she looked out the window, she noticed a glaze over his eyes. She smiled that her words could touch him so deeply.
They arrived at the Millennium Hotel and rode the elevator twenty-eight stories to the top where a restaurant revolved 360 degrees, overlooking St. Louis' Riverfront. Paula and Emmanuel, who suggested a double date, were already there. They stood from the table to greet Trey and Hallison.
Paula and Hallison exchanged hugs. Emmanuel slapped Trey's hand in a handshake. "I've got your back, man."
Trey shoved him. It was a playful gesture between brothers, but Trey gave him looks as if saying, don’t start nothing, and it won't be nothing. Paula shrugged and Hallison frowned. She wondered if the two had an unresolved dispute and that's why Trey had asked for prayer.
Once seated, their server appeared and suggested Asian duck tacos and Peekytoe crab cakes as appetizers. Emmanuel licked his lips. "Sounds good to me."
Everyone laughed at Emmanuel's appetite, even Trey. Hallison relaxed. Prayer did change things. It was going to be a great night. When the platters arrived, Hallison and Paula hesitated to sample it. Once they did, Trey and Emmanuel interpreted their moans and smiles as signs to help themselves.
Throughout the night, Hallison caught Trey staring at her. "Why are you looking at me like you've never seen me before?" she teased. Breaking off a piece of bread, she gave him a nibble then she took a bite.
He exhaled. "Can't I admire God's beauty?"
"Good answer, bro." Emmanuel grinned.
Twisting his mouth, Trey squinted at his brother. Hallison rolled her eyes. Brothers. Paula ignored them as she inquired about Cheney, her family, and Mrs. Beacon. Hallison also told her about Octavia.
Paula frowned. "She's the doll lady, right?"
Hallison chuckled. "I guess you can call her that. She seems to escape in a world of fairytales, creating black princesses, queens, and superwomen dolls. I'm worried about Tavia." She had Trey and Emmanuel's attention as she explained, "I'm so afraid that she's going to die—eventually, yes, but sooner. I don't know how to interpret her avoidance of talking about it. Is she scared or in denial? I want to know what's going on with the cancer. How long does she have to live? Is she prepared to die? Those questions are always in the back of my mind." Hallison shrugged. "Anyway, she's going through chemotherapy again. I want to go and be with her, but she refuses until after her treatments. She says she doesn't want me to see her sickly. I can't take any more bad news right now."
"I'm sorry, Hali." Paula shook her head in sympathy. "What about Cheney? Is Cheney still in the hospital?"
"Oh, no. She's been home. I plan to stop and check on her after church."
Trey cleared his throat. "Is Malcolm going to be there?"
"I don't know. Why? Please tell me you're not still holding a grudge."
"You have no idea," Trey mumbled.
Chapter Thirty-two
Monday morning, Malcolm strolled into his office, whistling. He had succumbed to attending church with Parke while Cheney was still convalescing at home; plus, he couldn't refuse a Sunday service after reading a humorous billboard, "Shock your Momma, Go to Church this Weekend."
The message humored Malcolm. God is advertising on billboards now? Surprisingly, he didn't feel any pressure to commit and had survived. When he left service, he couldn't remember why he was so dead set against it.
"Good morning, sunshine," Malcolm said, nodding toward Lilly.
"Excuse me? Are you coming down from a weekend hangover or has another personality invaded your body?"
"Nope. I just went to church," Malcolm stated nonchalantly as he picked up his messages.
Lilly lifted her brow and came from behind her desk. Her fingers were set to snap. "Praise the Lord—"
"Don't put your dancing shoes on yet. I said I went to church. I didn't join. I was comfortable being a visitor—at least for now."
"Humph. A visitor today could be a preacher tomorrow," Lilly mumbled, dismissing him as she returned to her seat. She perched her reading glasses on her nose and resumed pecking away on her computer keyboard. "Oh, by the way, is that wit
ch, Lisa, still on the list?"
He stopped and looked at Lilly, frowning. "You can erase her off your pad. How did you know she practiced Wicca?" He shivered. "That's creepy, even for me."
Lilly stopped typing and reached inside her desk drawer for her pen and paper. "When you're my age, you've seen it all. I don't care how bright the smile, the darkness never leaves those kind of folks." She took out a first-grade size eraser and performed the task. "Okay, Hali still reigns on the list."
Malcolm snorted. Oh yeah, Hali still reigned, period. God, all I need is a second chance. He had hoped Hallison would be in attendance at service, but per Parke, she was visiting Paula's church. Although he wasn't going to Sunday worship to impress Hallison, it would've been nice if she'd been there.
It hadn't really mattered. Sunday service had been directed at him. Malcolm jotted down Psalms 68, 102, and 116 to rethink later in the day, but he never got around to it. Pastor Scott seemed to answer a silent question in his sermon, "Try going to the doctor without insurance. I guarantee, you'll be charged full price, but if you've got benefits, your costs are reduced to maybe ten or twenty- dollar co-pays," he continued citing other examples. "What's the conclusion of what I'm preaching today? God's benefits make you a cut above the rest."
When the altar call came, and the pastor asked those who wanted the extra benefits to come, Malcolm didn't budge, and Parke didn't nudge him. He witnessed several people get baptized, and then rejoiced. Yet he still wasn't persuaded. It would definitely take more than one visit for him to make a move.
Sometime later, Malcolm sat at his brother's table while Kami entertained them. "Daddy, Mommy says you didn't add enough salt yesterday to our hamburgers."
"Kami, hush," Cheney scolded, blushing. Parke waited for her to make eye contact and she never did.
"I'm just calling it like I see it," Kami stated, scrunching her nose at the baked chicken.
The adults laughed, and Kami grinned. Parke cooked one of the basic five dishes Cheney taught him, one for every day of the week. Actually, Parke's baked chicken, green beans, mashed potatoes, and fresh salad was decent minus the pepper.
