"You know I love God too. I know that God hates divorce. But He also says that a husband is supposed to love his wife in the same way that Christ loved the church."
He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "I'm not trying to compromise your faith or your integrity. I don't want for either of us to be outside of God's will. But I also don't think our Lord wants to keep you in a relationship that could be dangerous for you and for Aaron."
Erika hunched her shoulders and leaned forward too. "That's part of it, Derrick. How do I know that he's still abusive? Elliott says he's changed. Don't I have an obligation, out of respect for God, to give Elliott a chance to prove it?"
"If that's what you believe, then why haven't you gone back home?"
Erika sat up straight. The question caught her off guard. Why hadn't she?
"When we're in tune with God, He gives us discernment, Erika. You know that inner voice that we want to call intuition? That's God nudging us to do one thing or another.
Something has kept you from reconciling with Elliott. You need to figure out what that something is, and I don't want it to be just because of me. You need to make the decision that's going to be best for you and for Aaron, and if you feel like that's staying married to Elliott, then so be it. But I refuse to continue being strung along. I love you, but I love myself too. I deserve better."
Erika's eyes widened. "What are you saying? Didn't you just tell me you care about me?"
Derrick cupped her hands in his. Erika was stunned to see tears pool in his eyes.
"I don't just care about you, Erika. I love you. I've known that for a long time."
He said it so softly she thought she hadn't heard correctly. But he wasn't finished.
"You're used to a love that hurts; I'm not. If we will ever be together—and that is just a hypothetical if at this point—you've got to learn a better way. Love isn't supposed to hurt. It's supposed to build both people up. Where you and I are now . . . it's tearing both of us down.
"You concentrate on Erika, on loving yourself and figuring out what you want. I am always here for you and for Aaron, even if you decide to stay with Elliott. But for now, we are just friends, and when we're in the office, colleagues. I'm praying for you, Erika."
Erika pulled her hands from Derrick's grasp and wrapped her arms around herself. She thought she might lose it, right then and there.
When Derrick laid fifteen dollars on the table and picked up his briefcase, she realized she already had lost him.
11
Today the tears stopped.
The way her mother looked at her this morning told Tawana if she didn't pull herself together, she'd soon find herself admitted to a local hospital.
"You've been crying for two weeks and you won't tell me why. Misha doesn't hear you every night, but I do. You're losing weight, drinking bottle after bottle of wine, and using all the tissue in the house. What is going on with you, Tawana? Do I need to call a doctor?"
Mama had ranted before, but today she picked up the yellow pages to find some help.
Tawana dashed over and snatched the book from her. "No, Mama! I'm fine; I just have a lot on my mind."
"I can see that, Tawana."
Ms. Carter extended her hand for Tawana to return the phone book.
"Since you won't talk to me, you're going to talk to someone. I didn't come up here with you to this highfalutin' place so this fancy education you're gettin' could drive you crazy. Misha needs you."
She fell silent and formed a thin line with her lips, but Tawana already knew what her mother was too proud to admit: she needed her too.
Tawana fell to her knees and laid her head on her mother's lap. Sobs wracked her body.
Ms. Carter rubbed her daughter's back and wept too.
"What is it, Tawana? What is wrong?"
When the tears finally abated, Tawana found her way to the futon and sagged next her mother. She wiped her eyes with the heels of her palms.
"I don't want to talk about it, Mama, but I'm going to be okay. I'm sorry I've scared you; it’s just been a stressful time. It's going to be alright."
Ms. Carter stared at her, and Tawana knew Mama was struggling to believe her.
"One of them boyfriends did something to you, didn't he?" Tawana turned away. "I'm okay, Mama. I don't want to talk about it. Everything is going to be fine."
She left Ms. Carter staring at her back and strode to her room, closing the door behind her. She fell across her bed and willed the tears to stop. There was too much at stake for her to allow her world to come crashing down.
But her mind kept traveling back to the night she had made that split-second decision to sell herself to Grant.
The contempt in his eyes haunted her. "You want me to pay for it? Look at me, Tawana." He had sneered at her and looked himself up and down. "Do I look like I need to pay somebody to sleep with me? I like to have a good time, but I ain't desperate."
Grant looked at his wallet and saw what had caught her eye.
"You need some money? Here."
He slid the $200 from his wallet and threw it onto her lap.
Tawana, near tears, shook her head and tried to give it back.
Grant pushed the money away and started the car.
Tawana folded the cash and tucked it under his wallet. He pulled out of the restaurant parking lot and headed toward her apartment.
"Are you that strapped for cash?"
She lowered her head and shrugged. "I've never done that before. I ... I don't know what came over me. I'm worried about a place to stay this summer, and I... I don't know. I'm sorry."
Grant took a deep breath and placed his hand over hers. "Don't worry about it."
It should have ended there, with the ultimate humiliation and a strained goodbye.
But she had squeezed his hand and looked at him, wanting him to still like her. "Can we still go back to your place?"
Grant didn't reply, but he steered his car right instead of left at the next intersection.
That night had been different from the others. Her previous suitors had at least whispered sweet lies in her ear and pretended to care. They said all the loving words she wished they meant. She knew they didn't—how could they, after one or two dates? Yet hearing them made her feel good, all the same.
Grant, on the other hand, simply seemed determined to give her what she obviously wanted. She stayed until the wee hours of the morning, allowing him to do and say things to her that let her know he saw her as nothing more than a piece of meat.
It wasn't against her will; she had offered. But after that night, she would never be the same.
When he was finally ready to sleep, he rolled to one side of the bed, away from her.
"How did you get into Harvard with a name like Tawana anyway? I'll take you back to your car in the morning, 'kay?"
He was asleep before she could respond to either question.
The next morning, on the drive to the parking lot adjacent to her apartment, he apologized.
"Um, I want you to know that I'm a really nice guy. You said you don't normally do something like that. Well, I try to respect girls too. I guess we were both thinking out of our heads."
He pulled up beside her car and leaned across her to open the passenger door so she could step out. "No hard feelings?"
Tawana didn't look at him. He sped away while she stood there fumbling through her purse for her car keys.
It had been hard to live with herself ever since.
She had crossed a line, and it scared her. Could it happen again? How had she done it so easily? Sleeping with Grant had been insane, but if it had been for pay, she could have been arrested. Before it had begun, her career would have been over.
Those thoughts fueled a fresh round of tears, but Tawana breathed them away.
An India.Arie song floated through her mind. Get it together ... Whatsoever you sow you shall reap ...
That was one of Serena's favorite songs. Her influence was palpable even when she wasn't aro
und.
In that instant, Tawana knew what she needed to do. She reached across the comforter for the cordless phone and dialed Serena's cell. It was the middle of the afternoon on Saturday, and Tawana knew it was unlikely that she'd be at home.
Surprisingly, Serena picked up on the first ring. Tawana could tell she was at a park or in her backyard, because the boys were yelling about kicking and throwing balls.
"I've been waiting to hear from you. Glad you finally called."
"Huh?" Tawana sat up in bed and frowned.
"Your mother reached out to me last week and told me something was wrong. Instead of trying to wring it out of you, I decided to wait for your call. I knew I'd hear from you when you were ready to talk."
"What made you so sure I'd call you?"
"I told you a long time ago that I'm always here for you, T, and you know I meant it. I just prayed that you would remember.
"Whatever's going on, I've got your back. And you- know-who does too."
"God?"
"God."
12
Before she changed her mind, Tawana poured it out.
At least most of it.
The date. The sex. The regret.
She waited for the verbal beat down from Serena, but when the prolonged silence continued, she realized Serena was crying.
"Do you hate me?" Tawana asked.
"No, baby," Serena sniffled. "I hurt for you. I want you to stop believing you need to give your body to others to be loved. That's not how it works, T. Why'd you do it?"
Tawana hesitated. She couldn't bring herself to tell Serena she'd initially been after money. She also didn't want to lie. "It's a long story, Serena. Can we skip that part for now?" Serena usually didn't let her off the hook that easily. Today was no different.
"I'm asking for two reasons," she said. "I want to know only if there's something I can say or do to keep you from going down this road again. But the other reason I asked is because you need to know why you did this, T.
"It's not the first time you’ve slept with someone you barely know. You need to figure out why you keep repeating the same mistake. You know I love Misha, but if you aren't careful, you're going to wind up in law school with two babies. Or you just might not finish."
Serena's words felt like a slap in the face. What if she knew the whole truth?
Tawana knew, though, that her friend's questions were valid. If Tawana hadn't been worried about a place to stay, she might not have snapped.
The truth shall set you free.
Tawana frowned. Where had that thought come from?
"T, you still there?"
Tawana remembered Serena was on the phone. She could still truthfully answer the question without adding the background details.
"Yeah, I'm here," she paused. "I know you've got a lot going on, Serena, but I need a huge favor."
"Anything."
"Don't you want to know what it is first?" Tawana asked and smiled.
"You're at a place right now where you need to know that you're not alone. Whatever it is, you've got it. Now, it might require some maneuvering with my babies, but I'm there."
Tawana laughed. "You know they aren't babies anymore."
"Back to the subject, Miss Thang. What do you need?"
Tawana went for it. "A place to stay this summer. With Misha. For twelve weeks."
She held her breath and waited for the understandable excuse Serena was about to render.
"The guest room will be ready. Is Ms. Carter going to stay with us too? Why didn't you ask me when you were here for the weekend?"
Relieved, Tawana laid back across the bed. "I'm going to be a summer associate at Wallace, Jones and Johns while I'm there. Misha's already enrolled in a summer camp during the day, and Mama's going to be staying with Ms. Brenda and working in a church nursery for the summer.
"I wanted to ask you that weekend, but then you mentioned that Micah's sister and her kids were coming and what a headache it would be to have more children underfoot. I've been trying to figure out something else so we wouldn't have to bother you."
"Oh, Tawana," Serena said and sighed. "This lets me know that the First Lady has some work to do—on my attitude and my mouth.
"I was just doing my routine griping. I didn't really mean it. I'm glad Evelyn, Zuri, and Tyra are coming; I want to get to know my sister-in-law better. I get overwhelmed sometimes and start ranting, and then I'm okay. I didn't mean for you to take it the wrong way.
"You and Misha are family," Serena said. "It shouldn't have been a second thought, regardless of who comes to visit. If it would be too much for me, I'd tell you, okay? When are you coming and when do you start work?"
Words escaped Tawana. She'd been on the brink of living death. She had crossed a line that could have consumed her soul. Only one thing had saved her.
Grace.
13
Serena ended the call with Tawana and looked across the yard at Jaden and Jacob. Micah was throwing a football and both toddlers were scrambling to catch it.
She shook her head. They were going to be filthy.
"You've got bath duty, Daddy!"
Micah gave her a thumbs-up before ordering his sons to get into position.
"Hut! Hut!"
Serena laughed. They didn't have a clue what they were doing. But if their Daddy said run and catch the ball, they were in the game.
"I'm going for a walk," she called to Micah.
The day was warm but cloudy, so a midafternoon stroll shouldn't leave her too uncomfortable. After Tawana's disturbing call, she needed some time alone. With her heavenly Daddy.
She strolled down the sidewalk, past well-kept houses and neat lawns, and replayed the conversation with Tawana in her mind.
She gave me part of the story hut not all of it, Serena mused.
Ms. Carter had been frantic with worry when she called. But you've got this, Daddy. As long as you know what's going on, she'll get through this.
Serena's thoughts turned to herself, and how her pessimism had affected Tawana's comfort in confiding in her. She remembered her anxiety over Bethany's visit to her house, and her comments about the bother of having her sister-in-law's children in her space, plus her snide remarks about Bethany and Victoria during the cookout.
Serena vividly recalled the times she'd been the brunt of catty conversations herself. As the wife of the senior pastor at their former church, Standing Rock, she had been under constant scrutiny, and it hadn't felt good. People at New Hope watched her too, but thankfully this was the kind of ministry that put people on a level playing field. She was respected but not revered, and that was how she liked it.
Now Bethany was another story. That woman craved attention like some women coveted chocolate.
But I've been wrong, Daddy, Serena prayed. This has nothing to do with Bethany. She's yours to handle. Help me to keep my eyes and my heart focused on you. You've blessed me with so much, Lord, I don't know why I'm having such a hard time appreciating it.
She smiled and waved at a neighbor while continuing to stroll the neighborhood and pray silently.
People look at me and think they're seeing an example of who you are. That's a scary thought, Lord. I feel so way off track sometimes that I don't even know who I am. I've got the wife part down. Thank you for blessing me with a loving and giving husband, Daddy. And he is fine too. Thank you for that. But everything else? I'm just a mess.
She thought about the recent newspaper article about her former colleague. She had penned a note of congratulations to Casey, despite the twinges of jealousy. Then there was the house. Even if she had the money to paint, refinish, and refurnish everything she longed to, she wouldn't have the time. The twins consumed so much of her spirit that her brain and her body often felt like mush. And what was she going to do if what she suspected was true? She'd lose her mind.
Do you hear all of this, Daddy? How did I get here?
The answer came quickly. Be still and know that I am God.
>
"I know," she said out loud.
As a woman thinketh, so is she, came the response.
"So now you're telling me I'm a mess because I think I am?"
Serena realized if she didn't stop talking to herself, passersby might call mental health authorities. She understood, though, what Daddy was trying to tell her. If only it were that simple.
She reached the end of the sixth block of her walk and decided to head back home. The mail carrier was pulling away from her curb just as she turned the corner. When she reached her mailbox, she filled her arms with a stack of envelopes, magazines, and direct mail fliers.
Minutes after entering the house, it became a struggle to remember the conversation she'd just had with God. Micah and the boys were in the kitchen slurping ice cream cones. A small, countertop TV droned in the background, with an update on that teenage boy who had gone missing two weeks earlier. Apparently he had been found dead. Serena turned down the volume so the boys wouldn't hear more, then sat next to Micah at the table.
"What kind of walk was that? You look like you're ready to go off on somebody," Micah said.
She waved a perfumed, rose-pink envelope at Micah.
"Here's a letter from Bethany. Addressed to you."
She dropped it in front of him, along with the new issue of Black Visionaries magazine. The headline and subtitle read, "Ministers on the Move. Congregations light up the faithful in bold new ways."
Three prominent ministers were featured in the cover photo: Bishop T.D. Jakes of Dallas, Eddie Long of Atlanta, and Micah's former assistant pastor at Standing Rock, who had taken the helm after his firing—Jason Lyons of Richmond, Virginia.
Micah sat back in his chair and looked at Serena. He held up Bethany's letter and shrugged. "Who knows?"
Then he held up the magazine.
"Now I understand how you felt when you read that newspaper article about Casey Divers."
14
Erika checked her watch.
"I love coming to this place, but the lunchtime wait is entirely too long."
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