by Neta Jackson
When she and Sam first arrived, someone was playing gentle music on a keyboard as people slowly filed past an open casket flanked by two large flower arrangements, but they’d simply found seats toward the back. When the service started, the casket was closed, and then Harry and Estelle Bentley, followed by Rodney Bentley, his son DaShawn, and a few other people who must be relatives walked up the middle aisle and took their seats in the front row.
Grace looked at her program, wondering where she was scheduled to sing. A sweet picture of a smiling black woman filled the front page. Wanda M. Bentley, 1922–2010. Wow, almost ninety years old. The inside page had a biography on the left and an order of service—called a “Homegoing Celebration”—on the right: Prelude … Processional of Family Members … Praise and Worship … Remarks … Resolutions of Condolence … Reading of the Obituary …
Oh, there it was. “Give Me Jesus” by Grace Meredith, Soloist, just before the eulogy.
The praise and worship time was so exuberant and joyous—not like any funeral service Grace had ever been to—that by the time the pastor leading the service finally called on her, she felt wrung out. But with an encouraging squeeze on her arm from Sam, Grace walked to the front of the room, took the cordless mike that was handed to her, and nodded at the man standing at the soundboard in the back of the room. Glancing at the Bentley family in the front row, she got an encouraging smile from Estelle, dressed in lovely black and white, but her husband’s eyes were closed, as if waiting expectantly. As the instrumental track began to play, Grace focused her gaze on the family, took a deep breath, and began to sing the rich old spiritual.
Give me Jesus,
Give me Jesus
You may have all the world,
Give me Jesus.
She sang first one verse, and then another, and saw tears sliding down Harry’s face.
And when I come to die,
And when I come to die,
And when I come to die,
Give me Jesus.
But not only tears glistened on his face. A smile of perfect peace.
As Grace sat down, the words of the song were still echoing in her spirit. You may have all the world … Give me Jesus. Would she be willing to give up all her world for Jesus? Her singing career? The concert tours? The admiration of her fans?
Easy to say. She didn’t think Jesus was asking her to give it up.
But … would she be willing to give it up for Roger?
Chapter 35
The burial was going to be a private affair later that day, so after the service, tables were set up and mountains of food appeared for the repast. Grace and Sam stayed for a little while, but soon had to excuse themselves as Barry had scheduled yet another practice with the band that afternoon.
“When you leavin’ for the tour?” Estelle asked as they hugged good-bye.
“Tuesday. We’re taking the train, you know. The first concert is in Seattle on Friday, but we have to allow three days for travel.”
Estelle wagged her head. “Mm-mm, hope Harry doesn’t get assigned to one of those long-distance routes, but … I shouldn’t complain. Just glad he has a job.”
Grace was tempted to ask whether Rodney had gotten a job, but decided this wasn’t the time.
“So you’ll still be here on Monday?” Estelle was saying. “Good. I’ll come over to pray for your tour—and will keep you covered each day you’re on the road. God’s got your back, you know.” The older woman wrapped Grace in another big hug. “Thanks for singin’ that song,” she murmured. “Meant a great deal to my Harry.”
The homegoing service for Mother Bentley—which Sam said was pretty traditional for black folks—stayed with Grace the rest of the weekend. The Resolutions of Condolence from various churches and organizations, as well as the remarks of family and friends, made Grace wish she’d known Harry’s mother. It was so easy to think of the elderly as just … old, forgetting that they too had once been rambunctious kids with big dreams, had worked hard to support their families, had suffered disappointments and sorrows along the way with dignity and courage, and had influenced their worlds, big or small. Once again Grace felt a pang that she’d never taken the time to get to know old Mrs. Krakowski across the street.
Monday night’s practice with the band would be the last one before the tour, but Grace felt Saturday’s had gone so well, she honored her promise to have Sunday lunch with her brother and his family after church. Her nephews had gone gaga at the prospect of spending days on a train and peppered her with questions. Where was she going to sleep? Could she get off? Did they show movies? What if bandits robbed the train? Laughing, Grace said it was her first cross-country train trip, but promised to regale them with her adventures when she got back.
But once Marcus and Luke left the table to play video games, Grace took a deep breath to bring Mark and Denise up to speed about her new focus on Just Grace—and why. Denise got teary when she told them about her teenage abortion and reached out to hold Grace’s hand, but Mark looked positively stricken. “Have you … have you told Mom and Dad?”
She shook her head. “I … I mean to, just not sure when. Or how. I know they’ll be so disappointed in me.” A tear slid down her cheek.
Her brother pushed back from the table and came around to Grace’s chair, leaning over her from behind and wrapping his arms around her. “I’m so sorry you went through that alone, sis,” he said, his voice husky. “At sixteen! We should’ve been there for you. But at least I can be there for you now. Why don’t you wait to tell Mom and Dad until we’re together, and I can be with you too?”
She nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. Another gift of God’s grace …
But her brother’s mood changed when, in the interest of full disclosure, Grace told them Roger had admitted he was wrong to end their engagement so suddenly, and wanted to back up and give them a chance to work things out. “You gotta be kidding,” Mark growled. “You aren’t actually going to give him another chance, are you?”
“I … I haven’t said yes or no. But I did promise I’d think about it. He seemed very sincere when he apologized. After all, people make mistakes—I should know, right? So maybe Roger needs some grace too.”
“Now, Mark,” chided Denise as her husband snorted, eyes rolling. “Don’t make your sister fight you too.” She squeezed Grace’s hand. “We just don’t want to see you hurt again, sweetie. So just … be sure, okay?”
Grace felt a little unsettled by her brother’s reaction to the news that she was considering a reconciliation with Roger. If she and Roger did get married, she’d want him to be a welcome member of the family. If she could forgive him, maybe Mark could too.
Well, it had been a lot to dump on her brother and sister-in-law. He was just being a protective big brother. He’d come around.
Sam decided to work from home on Monday, since she also had laundry and packing to do. Most of the permissions had come in, and she’d been on the phone with Jeff Newman at Bongo Booking about the few holdouts.
As much as Grace enjoyed Sam’s easygoing presence, she was grateful for a quiet day at home before leaving on her trip. She skipped her session at Curves to get her laundry started, spent the morning doing voice exercises and running through several of the songs she’d be doing on the tour, and then took Oreo to Meeow Chicago right after lunch so she’d have time to start packing before the evening session at the studio.
“Good-bye, buddy,” she murmured, nuzzling the cat before reluctantly releasing him to one of the attendants. “Gonna miss you.” For a brief moment she wondered if she could’ve arranged to bring the cat along—after all, didn’t some of the big secular music stars travel with pets on their tour bus?
Yeah, right. Now you’re getting nuts, she told herself, watching Oreo disappear in the attendant’s arms behind swinging doors.
Later, folding laundry on the couch, Grace saw Estelle Bentley pull up and get out of the car. But instead of going into the house, she waved at s
omeone, and a moment later Grace saw her come across the street and stand on the sidewalk talking to the twins’ mother from next door. Grace glanced at the clock … almost three thirty. If her neighbor was going to come over to pray one more time about the West Coast tour, Grace hoped she’d come soon, so she wouldn’t be late to rehearsal.
The doorbell rang fifteen minutes later. Grace jumped up—good, they still had time. But when she opened the door, she was startled to see that Estelle wasn’t alone. The twins’ mother smiled self-consciously as Estelle said, “I ran into your next-door neighbor here comin’ home from work—you’re a caseworker with DCFS, right, Sister Michelle?—and she looked mighty troubled so … uh, may we come in?”
“Oh, yes, of course!” Grace stepped back, flustered. “Please, sit down … just let me move this stuff.” She grabbed a pile of folded laundry off the couch and ran it into her bedroom. Returning to the living room, where the two black women had settled on the couch, she said, “I’m sorry, just trying to get my laundry done before I leave on a trip tomorrow.”
“Which is what I was telling Sister Michelle,” Estelle beamed. “Told her I was comin’ over to pray with you about your trip, and she said … well, why don’t you tell Grace here what you said, honey.”
Michelle Jasper, still in her trench coat and holding a purse and bulging briefcase on her lap, shook her head as if embarrassed. “I just asked Miss Estelle here to send up a prayer or two for me, because I sure need it, and next thing I know, she’s inviting me to join you. Feel like I’m barging in though … are you sure you don’t mind?”
Grace did mind, a little bit. Not that she had anything against Michelle Jasper, but her prayer times with Estelle had been very personal and adding someone else at the last moment, someone she hardly knew, put a damper on that. “No, of course not,” she said, then cast a questioning glance at Estelle as if to ask, What’s this about?
Estelle saw the glance and nodded. “See, the Bible says where two or three are gathered together ‘in my name’—that’s Jesus talkin’—he says he’s right there in their midst. And anything they ask in his name—meanin’ anything that lines up with God’s purpose an’ the Word of God—well, he’s gonna do it! So I thought, since we all have things that need prayer, let’s pray for each other in the name of Jesus an’ claim that promise!” She reached out and patted Michelle’s hand. “How can we pray for you, sister?”
Michelle Jasper shook her head. “Hardly know where to start. I had to come home early from work for a parent meeting with Tavis’s teacher—he got in a fight today over … honestly, I can hardly remember! This kid at school has picked on Tavis all year and I guess Tavis had had it. The other parent didn’t show—just as well. Last time Tavis got in a fight with this boy, the mother blamed everybody except her kid.”
Estelle nodded. “Mm-hm. I know the type.”
“I want Tavis to take responsibility for his actions, but it’s hard when this other boy is such a bully. Unfortunately, it also meant I had to reschedule an important home visit where we’ve gotten complaints from some neighbors about children home alone. I hated to put it off. If only my husband …” Her voice drifted off.
Estelle and Grace waited a long moment. Then Estelle said, “If only?”
“Oh, nothing. Just wish Jared was more available to handle this boy stuff. But his work schedule at O’Hare puts a lot of stress on the family. Even if this had been one of his early days when he’d get off at two, he needs to get some sleep before going back.” Michelle heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry. Don’t mean to dump my woes on the two of you. It’s just … on days like today I seriously consider quitting my job.”
“Well, that’s what sisters in Christ are for, to carry each other’s burdens!” Estelle reached for their hands and wasted no time moving right into a prayer. “Mmm, Father God, you are worthy to be praised! Thank you for your promise to pour out strength when we feel overwhelmed, and you said when we need wisdom, all we need to do is ask …”
As she listened, Grace felt a familiar pang. She lived next door to the Jaspers and knew next to nothing about them. Estelle had called Michelle a sister in Christ—which made it even worse. Fellow believers, and she didn’t even know it. Still, she couldn’t help sneaking a peek at the wall clock … 4:05. She still had more laundry to fold and had hoped to start packing …
“Thank you,” Michelle whispered as Estelle said amen. “I really needed that prayer.” She fished in her coat pocket for a tissue and blew her nose.
Grace looked at Estelle, wondering how to move things along under the circumstances, just as a phone rang from somewhere on Michelle’s lap. “I’m so sorry!” Michelle rummaged in her purse and pulled out the offending cell phone. “It’s one of my kids. I better take it.” She rose, causing her briefcase to fall off her lap, and with a frustrated glance at the case on the floor, stepped into the dining alcove off the living room. Moving to pick up the briefcase and a wad of brochures that had fallen out of a front pocket, Grace heard Michelle say, “All right. I’m just next door. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Returning, her neighbor shook her head. “Wouldn’t you know. Destin forgot to get his permission slip signed for driver’s ed and of course it’s due by five o’clock today. Teenagers! I wish I could stay but … I need to get home. Please forgive me for running off.”
“That’s all right. We understand.” Grace handed her the briefcase and a handful of brochures.
“Thank you. That was clumsy of me … oh!” She looked at the brochures in her hand, then at Grace and Estelle. “I volunteer at the crisis pregnancy center. If you know anyone who can use these, please send them to us.” She laid a few brochures on the coffee table, and smiled at Grace. “Will you be gone long on your trip? If there’s anything we can do while you’re gone …”
Grace thanked her but said no, her brother was going to stop in and check on things. A moment later Michelle Jasper was gone.
“Well,” Estelle said as Grace shut the door behind their guest. “Thanks for bein’ flexible. I could tell that sister needed some prayer and it’s always good to pray with someone, not just for them. But I’m glad we can have a few minutes alone. I have something for you.” Estelle reached into her large purse and pulled out a small, leather-look notebook with gilt-edged pages and a fold-over clasp. “I got you a journal for your trip—don’t know about you, but sometimes when life gets hectic, it helps to write down my thoughts and prayers.” She handed the book to Grace with a warm smile. “Took the liberty of writing down some scriptures to read when you have time.”
“Oh, Estelle.” Grace opened the clasp and peeked into the book. On the front flyleaf, Estelle had written: To Grace with love ~ “His grace and mercy will carry you through” ~ Your sister in Christ, Estelle. And the first page had several scripture references printed neatly in a list. “Thank you so much. I … I’m not real good at having a regular prayer time. And when I’m touring, it’s even harder! But I promise to use this—every day.”
“Good! Now, I know you’ve got to skedaddle out of here real quick, so … Lord, your precious lamb here an’ your other daughter, Sam, are heading out tomorrow for the West Coast …”
Grace couldn’t help but smile, even as Estelle’s passionate prayer filled the room. Like usual, it was hard to tell when her neighbor stopped talking to her and started talking to God.
Chapter 36
The last rehearsal. They went through all the songs one last time. As the final notes of “Your Grace and Mercy” died away, the room fell quiet, as if holding its breath. And then Samantha and Barry began to clap. “You’re gonna sing like a soul sister yet, girl!” Sam called over to Grace.
The band laughed and high-fived each other. It’d been an intense week. But good.
Grace begged off going out to eat, though, saying she really needed to get to bed. Still had packing to do in the morning. “But thanks, guys. You’re the best. We’ll keep in touch on the road—”
“On the ra
ils, you mean,” Zach snickered, packing up his electric bass.
“Right.” She grinned at the crew. “So, guess we’ll see you in Seattle. First concert is Friday.”
Sam stayed to work on some logistics with Barry about the tour, so Petey walked Grace out to the parking lot. She wished she’d worn a heavier jacket. The temperature had dropped into the forties, the lights of the tallest city buildings were shrouded by clouds, and the wind had picked up. “Not too late to change your mind about flyin’,” the saxophonist teased as Grace unlocked her car. “Just think. It’s gonna take you and Sam three days by train and it’s gonna take us four hours.”
Grace shivered—and it wasn’t just the wind chill. “Not a chance. I’m done with airports. Good luck with security, though.” She got into the car, but lowered the window a few inches. “Thanks for walking me to the car. Everything okay with you and your girlfriend?” She’d met the girl once. Nice. Studying to be a lawyer or something.
“Yeah, we’re good. She’s not happy when I’m gone on tour but … another reason to fly, I guess.” He slapped the roof of her car. “Drive safe. It’s kinda foggy.”
Not happy when I’m gone on tour …
Well, that was Roger too. Must be hard on all significant others left behind. Maybe she should call him, show some understanding. Besides, she really should touch base with him before she left town, even though she hadn’t promised an answer until she returned. She wanted him to know she was still taking his request seriously.
