The plane began boarding her section, and Dayna knew she needed to sign off quickly. She waited for Warren’s reply and was surprised by his silence.
“Warren?”
Her heart sank when she realized she had somehow dropped the call. There was no time to call him back; she needed to board the plane. Hopefully when she reached her destination there’d be another message from him, and hopefully it would make everything right with the world.
sixty
Returning to Atchity was like stepping back in time for Dayna.
Within minutes of leaving the Birmingham airport in a four-door rental car, she was breezing down a two-lane highway that served as a straight shot to her parents’ home. Passing through one small town after another meant waving at porch-sitting strangers who might be offended if she didn’t and watching clothes wave in the wind on outdoor clotheslines. Cows still grazed in fields just off the busy road, and some farms still grew cotton.
Atchity was considered one of the more important little cities in the state because it was home to a respected university. As an elite college town that served as home to what some considered the greatest football team this side of the Mississippi, its beautiful brick buildings and expansive sidewalks gave the place a fairy-tale feel.
Dayna’s parents lived near the church in the downtown section of Atchity. When she pulled into their driveway just after nightfall, streetlights flickered on and helped her get her bearings.
She was surprised to see a light on in her parents’ kitchen, since it wasn’t yet eight p.m. and Good Friday service was still underway. She was stunned speechless when the front door opened and out stepped her sister Shiloh.
“You’re missing a church service?”
Shiloh came down the steps and stood next to Dayna’s rental car. “Well, hello to you, too, sister! Welcome home.”
Dayna blushed at her rudeness and climed out of the car.
“Sorry about that, Shiloh,” she said, and hugged her sister. “That was rude, wasn’t it? What I meant was, what a nice surprise. I hadn’t expected anyone to be home. I was going to use the key under the doormat to let myself in.”
Shiloh beamed. “Greeting guests is ministry work too. I volunteered to stay home and welcome you. I’m so glad you came, Dayna.”
Her sister, three years her junior, was taller, heavier, and older looking than Dayna, but, if Dayna was honest with herself, Shiloh had the biggest, kindest heart Dayna had ever encountered, and her enthusiasm this evening was obviously sincere.
Dayna brought her bag inside and spent the next half hour getting updates on the neighbors, her three nieces and nephew, and anything else Shiloh could remember to tell her about their birthplace.
Dayna relaxed. As long as they stayed on safe, neutral topics, all was well. When Mama and Daddy came home and ventured into why she wasn’t remarried yet or whether she’d be able to produce some beautiful grandchildren like Shiloh, things might get sticky.
Dayna decided then and there to do her part to keep her visit light and fun. What good would it serve to bring up old resentments or issues from the past that hadn’t changed for decades and wouldn’t now? And since Warren hadn’t accompanied her, she didn’t even have to fight the battle of where he would stay and how they would “present” him to the congregation. Daddy could have his moment in the spotlight without anything detracting from it.
Jessica and Keith would arrive in the morning and offer another distraction. In the meantime, Dayna decided to appreciate the good things about being home — the slower pace, the wonderful meals, the Southern hospitality. Of course Calero was a Southern city too, but as a Florida tourist spot, it lacked the quaint charm of a college town like Atchity.
Shiloh took a break from their chatter to check on the dumplings Mama had left simmering on the stove. Dayna pulled her cell phone from her purse to see if Warren had left her a message after their call had dropped in the airport. He had not, which led her to believe that he would wait till after her visit home to talk with her again.
She tried to turn her thoughts back to Shiloh, who was asking whether she wanted water or tea. Looked like nursing a broken heart was destined to be routine. Might as well put on her mask and hide behind her smile.
sixty-one
Tamara had sent Dayna a text just yesterday in an attempt to make peace; now it was time to call.
She made that decision as she sat next to Brent’s bed, watching the heart monitor beep, the blood pressure machine swoosh and pump, and her husband’s chest rise and fall to the rhythm created by a drug-induced sleep. Seeing him in this state was like watching the center of her soul wither; yet she was thankful she was here. After enjoying a day at home with Tamara, his mom, and his brother Winston, Brent had taken a turn for the worse only this morning, and he’d been admitted to the hospital by noon. Grasping the seriousness of his condition, Brent’s mother called the rest of the family and told them to come as soon as they could.
Tamara and Brent hadn’t been to church much since he fell ill, for reasons that ranged from not feeling well to anger at God; but whatever their excuse or state of mind, Pastor Stephenson never failed to be there for them. Today was no exception. He waited just outside Brent’s door, prepared to join the family in prayer around Brent’s bed when they were ready. Mrs. Chestnut was on her way too.
Brent’s eyes flickered open, and Tamara caressed his cheek.
“Baby? Can you hear me?”
He nodded and tried to lift his hand, but when he couldn’t, Tamara leaned toward him, to see if he was trying to speak.
“What do you need, baby? Water? Pain medicine?”
Brent shook his head, and she struggled to understand his whispers. Finally she made out the words “Psalm” and “Kiss.”
“Psalm and kiss?”
Brent’s mother had been watching from the doorway, so nurses wouldn’t chide them for breaking the one-visitor-at-a-time rule. She walked over and kissed her son.
“When he was a little boy and came running to me because he was angry or afraid or facing a challenge, I would lead him through the twenty-third Psalm,” Mama Davidson told Tamara. She too leaned closer to Brent. “Is that what you’re asking for, son? Someone to recite Psalm 23?”
Brent fixed his eyes on his mother’s face and nodded once. The request sent a streak of panic through Tamara. She closed her eyes and reminded herself that God’s strength was perfect when her own was weak; she needed to keep her composure for Brent’s sake.
God, help me.
Tamara motioned for Brent’s mother to do the honors, but Mrs. Davidson shook her head.
“No, sweetheart,” she told Tamara. “I had that privilege when he was my little boy. You are his beloved wife, and he is in your care now. You recite the Scripture to him. I’ll get my Bible out of my purse.”
Tears spilled down Tamara’s cheeks. “No need. It’s one of my favorite passages too. I know it by heart.”
Tamara tenderly kissed Brent’s parched lips and was rewarded with a smile. He gripped her hand as firmly as he could while she uttered the six verses of the Psalm in a shaky voice.
Minutes later, he dozed off, and she stepped out so his mother could sit with him. Tamara strolled to the exit door at the end of the fifth-floor hallway and stepped into the stairwell. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and, despite her trembling fingers, managed to dial the number scrawled on a piece of paper. This was the right thing to do, even if it gave her heartburn.
sixty-two
The Sunday morning routine in the Wilson household hadn’t changed since Dayna’s childhood; it had merely expanded to include grandchildren. Daddy — and now her brother-in-law Randy — didn’t eat breakfast with the family or speak to them. Each delivered a slight nod hello when they strode past everyone in the kitchen on their way to church, clear in heart, mind, and belly, ready to deliver the Lord’s Word for the day.
Dayna and Jessica exchanged glances between bites of Mama’s pancakes, b
acon, and eggs. How was it possible that Shiloh had married Daddy’s clone? Or had Randy been a nice guy before getting to know their father and emulating him? Either way, it disheartened Dayna to see her sister living her mother’s life. She worried that her nieces and nephew were suffering from the same emotional abandonment she and her siblings had experienced because of their father’s singular devotion to the church.
The few times she broached the subject with Shiloh, her sister grew defensive or mustered a high-wattage grin to prove her family’s happiness. Dayna wanted to shake Shiloh and remind her that the “smile mask” didn’t work on the person who had developed it. Eventually, she’d decided to let it be. She couldn’t live Shiloh’s life, and who knew — maybe someday they’d be the kind of sisters who trusted and supported each other unconditionally, through fantastic and difficult circumstances, and everything in between.
Just hours into her stay, Dayna’s plans to go-along-to-get-along changed. After tossing and turning all night Friday with thoughts of Warren, Brent, and Tamara racing through her mind, she’d realized that the truth was priceless. She decided not to spend this visit painting a sugarcoated picture of her life just to put her family at ease. It was what it was, warts and all. Maybe walking in that truth would help everyone else do the same. Yesterday during an outing to the mall with her mother and sisters, she’d admitted over lunch that she was sad because of her recent estrangement from Warren and how close she’d come to finding happiness with a good man. Without sharing specifics, she acknowledged her efforts to stop being judgmental and help a friend who’d made some bad choices survive a difficult time. She told her mother and sisters about Duchess and how she loved this woman’s honesty and spunk.
“She’s not afraid to live life and have an opinion about it, and she loves the Lord too,” Dayna said and smiled. Her praise of her elderly friend seemed to offend Mama, and Dayna was surprised. Maybe Mama wasn’t as satisfied with the life she’d carved out for herself as she portrayed. Perhaps she’d had to set aside some of her own goals and desires for her husband’s benefit.
Dayna wished she and Mama and her sisters could talk about those things comfortably, instead of whispering about who was wearing what, who sat where in church, and who had the audacity not to speak to whom. The meaningful stuff would help her — in fact, all of them — grow into being better people.
This morning, though, after the kids were shooed away to brush teeth and finish grooming themselves for church, Jessica returned to Dayna’s revelations.
“About what you shared yesterday … what happened with Warren?”
Dayna shrugged. She wondered whether the sorrow engulfing her spirit at the mention of his name was visible in her eyes.
“I took him for granted and let him slip through my fingers, and probably into the arms of another woman.”
Mama frowned. “That sounds a bit … like déjà vu.”
“It’s also inaccurate.”
The baritone uttering that statement caused a temporary hiccup in Dayna’s breathing. It couldn’t be … but it was. She turned away from the kitchen table and saw Warren standing in the doorway, with Daddy and Randy on his heels looking concerned and puzzled.
“We were pulling out when he showed up in a taxi,” Randy said. “We thought your boyfriend wasn’t coming!”
Dayna ignored him and flew from her seat to the place she most wanted to be: in Warren Avery’s arms.
Thank you, God.
He kissed her, in front of her entire family, until he needed to come up for air. “I missed my salsa partner,” he said, and grinned.
With Dayna secure in his arms, Warren turned toward the frowning Reverend Wilson.
“Sir, this is not how I planned to do this, but this is long overdue. Since we’re all here together now, and I honestly don’t want to wait any longer, I’d like to respectfully ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”
Daddy seemed frozen. When he didn’t respond, Jessica jumped in. “Don’t worry, Daddy — you don’t have to marry them at Riverview Baptist; we know this might be too progressive for the congregation.”
Shiloh swatted Jessica’s arm, but Dayna buried her face in Warren’s shoulder to muffle her laughter.
“I love her, sir,” Warren said to Dayna’s father, “and it’s taken some minor drama on both of our parts for me to realize what we have is worth the challenges we’ll experience as a couple. If we can work together, we can overcome anything. I will love Dayna, serve as her spiritual leader and partner, and do my best to make her happy.”
Mama left her seat at the table and stood next to Daddy. She peered up at him, awaiting his reply. Dayna would have given her firstborn to know what excuses, prayers, or pleas were rattling through his mind.
Daddy cleared his throat and looked at Dayna, whose head still rested on Warren’s shoulder. His eyes softened more than she’d ever noticed before, even when Brent had gone through this process.
“If you’ll do all those things you promise, plus keep God first in your life and in your marriage, you have my blessing — and my wife’s — to marry our daughter,” Daddy said. “You’ve got to take good care of her. She’s tough, but she’s still our baby girl.”
Dayna was speechless. This was the man the church members knew and loved. Maybe if she kept at it, she’d see more of this side of him.
Daddy cleared his throat. “I, uh, do have some questions about how this different race thing might cause trouble for you two, but we can talk that over later. Love can triumph. I believe that.”
Warren nodded. “We do too, sir. Thank you, and you too, Mrs. Wilson, for your blessing. I’m looking forward to taking care of her.”
Dayna hugged him. “Please don’t tell me that was your formal proposal.”
Warren shook his head and chuckled. “Not hardly, babe. I will take care of that later. I figured I’d get the preliminaries out of the way while your parents are both here. I actually came bearing some sad news. I need to get you back to Florida as quickly as possible. Tamara called last night; things aren’t looking good.”
Dayna gasped. “Let me grab my things. Are we driving or flying? How will we get there in time?”
“John is helping us out. He’s waiting at the airport on a private runway.”
She remembered that one of Warren’s golf buddies flew planes as a weekend hobby and owned a small four-seater. She had purposely avoided riding in that crop-duster, but today, it appeared she would have to endure the bumpy ride for Brent’s sake.
“You’re leaving now? What about your Easter Sunday solo?” Mama asked. “You two can’t stay for a few hours, at least through the first half of the worship service?”
Dayna’s lack of frustration surprised her. She hugged Mama and took her hand. “If Tamara made the effort to call Warren, this is serious, Mama. Brent must be nearing the end, and one or both of them want me there. I need to go.”
“Brent?” her sisters screeched his name at the same time. Dayna tried not to glare at Mama. Any other news she would have spilled within seconds of receiving it, but somehow she had forgotten to tell the family that Brent was terminally ill and that he and Dayna had reconnected.
“Mama will fill you all in; I’ve got to get there.” Dayna trotted to her childhood bedroom and tossed her toiletries and clothing into her suitcase. She shed her bathrobe and slid into the jeans she’d worn the day before and a T-shirt she had planned to wear after church.
Minutes later, she clutched her suitcase and paused in the doorway, remembering how the last time she’d slept in this room before becoming a wife, she’d been full of optimism and unshakable certainty that she was leaving to flourish with her life partner. This time, that same sentiment filled her, but it was accompanied by an unfamiliar peace she hadn’t manufactured herself. This time, she knew God was pleased with two mature people making a decision to dance hand in hand through life’s peaks and valleys.
The last time she’d left this room with marriage on her min
d, she’d been eager to get away from the façade of a happy family so she could create an authentic one. This time, she was leaving with the understanding that God was the true source of joy, no matter her marital status, and that regardless of how far she went or how long she stayed away, her family was so integral to who she was, she’d always take a piece of home with her.
Dayna returned to the kitchen and kissed Mama good-bye. Daddy had already left with Randy to open the church for Sunday school, and her sisters must have retired to their rooms to dress.
“Tell Daddy I love him,” Dayna told Mama. “I’m sorry about missing service today.”
Mama hugged Dayna and looked into her eyes. “It’s okay; you’re doing the right thing. I’m proud of you, Dayna. We’ll say a prayer for Brent at church, and as a family when we get home.”
“Say one for Brent and for Tamara, Mama,” Dayna said. “She’s going to need it as much as he does.”
sixty-three
Dayna and Warren began the private seventy-five minute flight from Atchity’s tiny airstrip into Melbourne’s central Florida regional hub with each of them uttering a prayer for Brent and Tamara.
“What did she say when she called?” Dayna asked.
“What struck me most was what she didn’t say.” Warren sighed. “She confirmed that you were in Alabama and said if I had any ideas about how to get you home quickly and safely, she’d like my help. The fact that she called me instead of you let me know that Brent’s time might be waning. She knew you were out of town and didn’t want you upset and trying to travel, I guess.”
Dayna sat next to Warren in the rear of the small plane, straining to hear him over the hum of the engine. They wore seat belts and sat in close proximity to John as he concentrated on the flight path. She was thankful he wasn’t trying to banter with them; she wasn’t in the mood for small talk. The priority was to get them where they needed to be in a hurry.
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