by Pat Simmons
She couldn’t wait until the day was over, and it showed when she left thirty minutes earlier than normal. Having skipped over lunch, the only thing on her mind was food. Gabrielle was prepared to go home, throw together some spaghetti, and eat alone. Cameron had a prior commitment to some charity event or something.
She had to give him credit. No one could ever say Cameron Jamieson didn’t give back to the community in the form of time and money. Everyone benefited, except the Lord.
Turning into the complex, she noticed Cameron’s Audi. First, a frown appeared and then a smile. Why was he sitting outside on a bench near the front door? What a total surprise. She grinned.
Out of the corner of her eye, Gabrielle watched him as she parked. With a swagger he had copyrighted, Cameron was there to open the car door. “Why aren’t you at home getting ready for your meeting or whatever?”
He didn’t answer until he had helped her out. “Besides being tired and still missing and loving you, I was summoned to your place by a certain relative. She instructed me to use whatever means necessary to persuade you to come to the Jamieson family reunion. All in all, those were good enough reasons for me to bow out of my meeting.”
Even in heels, she didn’t match his height, but she met his stare. His good looks covered his weariness and his eyes didn’t hide the excitement of seeing her.
“So I’m here to see my woman,” he whispered.
Exhaling, she shook her head to break his pull. “Umph, umph, umph. That Denise.” Gabrielle scrunched her nose and announced, “She could have saved you the trip. I had already figured if she could crash a wedding, I could crash a family reunion.”
“Then my mission is complete. I wanted to see you, and I didn’t care about the reason.” Cameron unexpectedly grabbed her around her waist and lifted her off her feet. She screamed and playfully punched him in his chest. “Put me down.”
He did. “Hungry? I can take you out.”
“You didn’t go to a meeting that I know was important to you. I can see how tired you are, so you don’t have to take me out.” Gabrielle swallowed. Could she handle being with him alone? They had been together for months and knew where each other stood. It would be a test for both of them, that’s for sure. “I guess that means you’re invited to dinner. We’re having spaghetti. I hope you know how to cook.”
Cameron laughed. “My woman invites me to dinner and makes me cook my own meal too.”
“You know it!” She said aloud, while silently, she prayed. Jesus, please help me. I know I’m a big girl, but I still need my Daddy—You—to keep me pure.
Cameron studied Gabrielle’s expression. He suspected she was deciding whether she could trust him with the two of them alone in the apartment or maybe herself.
No other woman ever hesitated to extend an invitation, but he didn’t love any of them. For some reason, he had something to prove to Gabrielle. And he knew material things wouldn’t cut it.
Cameron didn’t want to pressure her; he wanted her to believe in him. He loved Gabrielle and wanted to hear those words from her lips.
After they entered her apartment, the first thing he noticed was how she had transformed empty rooms into a tasteful living space. Looking around, he complimented, “This is nice.”
Resting her purse and computer bag on the table, she glanced over her shoulder. “Thanks. I forgot you haven’t seen it since the day I moved in.”
“Yeah.” Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Cameron didn’t remind her that she hadn’t invited him.
“Come on in the kitchen and wash your hands.”
He obeyed. Grabbing an apron from its hook, Gabrielle laughed as she held it up for him.
“What’s so funny, me wearing a pink apron or me letting you do this?” he asked when Gabrielle stood behind him and tied it around his waist. Seizing the opportunity, he trapped her hands and brought them to his lips for a kiss.
“It’s a toss-up,” she said, prying their hands apart and backing away.
After changing, she returned to the kitchen and busied herelf bringing a pot of water to boil and then pouring pasta into it.
Left to his own creation, Cameron seasoned the ground sirloin and Italian sausage while she stood beside him, dicing onions and garlic. He caught her smiling again.
“You’re very beautiful when you smile. I wish you were looking at me.”
“I’m just happy.” Gabrielle’s eyes sparkled. Forty minutes earlier, she was just as gorgeous when she stepped out of the car in a designer suit and was now in an oversized T-shirt and Capri pants.
“Would I be conceited to hope that I have something to do with it?”
“God knows you make me happy,” Gabrielle said with a sigh. “I just don’t know how this is going to play out between us. There’s a Scripture—”
He groaned but held his breath. The Bible was the last thing he wanted to talk about with his woman.
“No, wait. In Ecclesiastes 4, there’s a reason why two are better than one: ‘If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help him up.’ Just think how wonderful things could have been if Adam would have had Eve’s back.” She paused with a shrug. “Unfortunately, they fell together.”
“How do you do that? Unbelievable. How can you take a simple statement and connect it with a Scripture?” he asked. Talk about sexual tension. Gabrielle gave him plenty of that, in addition to his own source of spiritual frustration.
Her eyes pleaded for his understanding. “God was in my life long before you. Now that you’re in it, I don’t want the Lord to leave.” She stopped dicing and dried her hands. “As a saint of God, He expects us to walk in the natural and spiritual way. He wants us to be aware of the warfare going on in the spiritual realm for our souls. And right now, with us alone, knowing you love me …” Gabrielle shook her head and admitted. “I’m weak.”
He couldn’t take her philosophical argument any longer. Cameron cut her off with a slow, drugging kiss that seemed to set off an alarm. When they jumped apart, they realized it was the smoke alarm. The meat for the spaghetti sauce was burning.
They sprang into action. Gabrielle grabbed an oven mitt, reached for the skillet, and turned off the stove. The smoke began to billow and drift throughout the apartment. Cameron quickly opened the window over the kitchen sink and then hurried to open more windows in the living room. Just then, Gabrielle yelled.
He raced back to her side. “You okay?”
“I’m fine, but I spilled sauce on my shirt. I’ll have to change.”
He nodded and went back into the living room. While she walked down the hall into her bedroom, Cameron reached over a lamp table to open another window. He accidently bumped against it and a notebook fell to the floor. Placing it back on the table, he noticed his name scribbled several times. Curious—or maybe downright nosey—he peeped closely at it.
“I’ll be right out,” Gabrielle yelled from behind a closed door.
“Take your time,” he shouted back. Flipping through some pages, Cameron realized it was a diary or journal of sorts. He smiled at the entry where she wrote the date, time, and location where she was when he texted that he loved her. Romantic! She had added to that entry.
Cameron shook his head. His woman had no idea how romantic things could be if she would only trust him. Grabbing a nearby pen, he scribbled in her diary, I need to know if you love me. Tell me or text me. Cam.
When he heard Gabrielle fumble with the doorknob, he put the notebook back in place and rushed to the kitchen. As she entered the room wearing another Boston University college T-shirt, he was trying to look busy doing nothing.
“There goes the masterpiece dinner,” he joked, attempting to mask his suspicious behavior. “Why don’t I help you clean up this mess, then we can go out and grab a bite. After all, it’s my kiss that was a scorcher.” He grinned and wiggled his brow.
“You are so cocky,” Gabrielle said with a laugh. “I can’t be mad at yo
u about the kiss because I enjoyed it too. But God set off that smoke alarm.”
God again. Cameron held his tongue.
Gabrielle didn’t wait for a response and kept talking. “Actually, I’d rather stay in. I enjoy cooking when I have someone to eat with me. I was smiling earlier because I thought about when my mom was here. She helped me break in my kitchen, and we cooked up a storm.”
After filling the sink with soapy water, she soaked two dish towels. She then squeezed one and threw it at him without warning. “Wipe off the stove,” she ordered, adding a quick, “please.” Her smile was priceless.
Cameron caught the towel, thanks to his sharp reflexes. “Yes, dear.” He winked and did as he was told.
Suddenly, a somber mood seemed to come over her. “I also enjoy the process of preparing and tasting and tweaking meals. It’s always exciting when you have someone to share the experience. Otherwise, it’s a chore.”
Opening the refrigerator, Gabrielle pulled out a bag of lettuce to make a salad. Grabbing a bowl, she rinsed off the romaine lettuce and then sprinkled cheddar cheese, dried cranberries, miniature mandarin oranges, and pecans over it.
He restored the stove back to its pre-disaster state and turned around. Taking the moment to observe her, Cameron admired how she fussed over the placement of the garnishments. She was so cute. In the back of his mind, he wondered when she planned to tell him what she had written about her feelings toward him.
Scrunching her nose when she caught him staring, Gabrielle slid a plate in front of him. “Here, eat this as an appetizer and I’ll warm up some leftovers.”
Bowing his head, Cameron silently said grace and stabbed at his salad. “Tell me more about your cooking escapades.”
“Meals were always a big deal at our house. Dinnertime became a community moment because we all stayed at the table until everyone was finished. It’s quirky, but it’s a Dupree thing.” She shrugged and punched in a time for defrost on her microwave.
“Anyway, I cooked at home alongside my mom and then in college with Denise. Even now, when I want to try a new recipe, I’ll call my mother. Mom will walk me through it as if she were in my kitchen, telling me when to taste it.” With a smile, she added. “That’s how you got dessert on the Fourth of July.”
When he finished his salad, he rinsed the bowl and forced Gabrielle to have a seat. He took over warming up what appeared to be meatloaf and collard greens. Without saying so, Cameron enjoyed the experience of them preparing, cooking, and enjoying a meal together. It was a sensual experience, a term he would have never associated with food alone.
After they had eaten, once again he assisted her in cleaning up the kitchen. From there, they moved to the living room where she showed him galleys of childhood pictures. Then came a bittersweet addition to the evening. With Gabrielle cuddled up next to him, Cameron “endured” a romantic comedy. The only problem was, the film couldn’t hold his attention and he didn’t see anything funny.
Although he enjoyed the intimate moment they were sharing, Gabrielle was oblivious to the fact that the window to her soul lay open within an arm’s reach. Finally, bored from lack of concentration, Cameron gave up his struggle, picked up the remote, and clicked off the movie.
She frowned. “What did you do that for? It was just getting to the good part.”
Cameron thought she was about to hyperventilate she was so mad, but he felt like a ticking time bomb too. He needed to hear three words from her. Standing, Cameron went to the table in the corner and picked up her notebook. The horror that raced across her face turned into fury.
“What are you doing with this?” She rushed over and snatched it out of his hand.
“I read it.” Cameron blinked, anticipating his cockiness was going to earn him a whack upside his head, maybe more than once.
Instead, her eyes misted as she hugged the notebook to her chest. “You had no right. These are my private thoughts … in my possession … in my private domain.”
“Well, my private thoughts are now in your possession too.” Pointing at the book, Cameron’s face showed his level of frustration.
Glancing down, Gabrielle quickly flipped through the notebook and scanned the pages. When she found what he had written, she looked back at him. Her expression was unreadable. “Good night,” was all she said.
Shocked, he gritted his teeth. “What? I’m an open book. You know how I feel. Why is it so hard for you to tell me that you love me? Maybe you don’t. We’re going to settle this now—”
“Oh, we’re going to settle this all right. Get out!” she screamed, pointing toward the door. “Or do you need for me to write it out for you?”
Storming to the door, Cameron gripped the doorknob. “Women …” he growled. Speechless, he walked out. With too much force, it slammed shut behind him.
A tear slid down Gabrielle’s cheek. She was mortified when she saw her handbook of romance in Cameron’s hands. In addition to her hopes and dreams, her insecurities and prayers to Jesus were written on those pages. Only three people knew about that book: her mother, Denise, and Talise. And none of them had ever read it.
To ask him how much he had read would mean she would have to explain herself. With God, she never had to explain her thoughts. Jesus already knew she was afraid to love Cameron.
Chapter Thirty-One
What did I say?” Cameron asked his reflection in the mirror two days later. As he dressed for Sunday service, he was still perplexed. He hated when women got the last word. Before Gabrielle ordered him out, his plan was to walk out. She had some nerve.
On top of that, driving home that evening in a bad mood caused him to get a speeding ticket. It seemed like the weekend went downhill from there. With the ticket in his hand, he stormed through the front door of his extremely hot house—the thermostat read eighty-three degrees.
Not only was he sizzling mad, he was irked that he had to drive somewhere and buy a window air conditioner. Refusing to spend an uncomfortable night in extreme heat, a window unit would hold him until he could get a serviceman out the next morning. Of all times for his central air to break down, tomorrow was forecasted to be the hottest day of the summer.
The technician did arrive the following day, but it wasn’t until ten at night. By that time, Cameron had already installed two units.
Gabrielle hadn’t called or texted him and neither had he tried to reach her. As a matter of fact, she didn’t even know he was planning to attend church. He tried to swear Ace to secrecy. However, his cousin quoted him not one, but two Scriptures about swearing: James 5:12 and Matthew 5:34.
“I give you my word, cuz. That has to be good enough,” Ace had said. Then he added, “Good luck, because Talise told me that your woman was upset big time about something you did.”
Frustrated, Cameron had thrown his arms up in the air, thinking, How could I know? It was a raggedy, torn notebook. “What did I really do anyway?” he asked aloud.
SO, here he was tying his silk tie, getting ready to plead her forgiveness. He was going to surprise Gabrielle at the church she had attended faithfully since moving to St. Louis. He would eat humble pie. It seemed like yet again.
Of course, thinking it over for the millionth time, Cameron had to be honest with himself. He shouldn’t have invaded her privacy. Besides, Drexel’s words had come back to haunt him repeatedly. Gabrielle was causing him to jump through too many hoops.
Before he knew her, Cameron had already given up hard liquor. By her influence, he had added beer and wine to the do-not-consume list as well. Ever since they met, he had abstained from what he called love-making. Gabrielle called it an act of sin against the body and a one-way ticket to hell.
For her, he had rearranged his Sunday morning plan. It was too hot for golf that morning anyway. With a sneer, he wondered if that Sunday morning treat was going to be permanently taken away from him too. Deals were made on the golf course. For him, serious money was committed on behalf of his charities on the tee.
&
nbsp; Satisfied with his appearance, Cameron walked out of his house but left his Bible. He went back outside. After retrieving it, he got behind the wheel. With a ticket in his wallet, he was careful to drive under the speed limit.
Arriving at Salvation Temple, admittedly, it had been a while since attending church was a part of his schedule. After he found a parking space, Cameron cleared the foyer with a purpose. He remembered where his brother and cousin sat and headed toward that section.
Cameron spotted Gabrielle first as he neared the family’s pew. She wore a light purple dress with a hat practically smothering her head. “Excuse me.” He climbed over Ace and kissed Talise. Frowning, Talise hesitated before creating an opening for him to sit next to Gabrielle, who was holding the baby and never glanced his way.
God had to be the orchestrator because, as he took his seat, Gabrielle stood up. The choir began singing a song that was upbeat but seemed to go on forever. Talise stood and took the baby from Gabrielle, so that she could be free to worship God. Others around them were doing the same, but Cameron remained seated and kept his eyes trained on her.
Finally, when Gabrielle reclaimed her seat, he tried to speak to her. Once again, timing wasn’t on his side. She shhed him, as the pastor stepped up to the podium.
“Praise the Lord, everybody,” Elder Taylor greeted. “Thank you, choir, for that moving selection. And now, church, will you turn your Bibles to the book of Acts, chapter two. In verse forty, Peter is pleading with the crowd to be saved. What is so fascinating about this Scripture is that the men of God had to warn the people and beg them to be saved. With their God-given authority, they had to do everything in their power to get people to turn their lives around …”
Cameron was halfway listening. He wanted to hear the message, but his heart was heavy and aching to make things right with Gabrielle. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
