Watercolored Pearls

by Stacy Hawkins Adams

  "Filet mignon will be fine," she said and laid the menu aside.

  "You sure? We haven’t dined together in a long time. This is special. Let me order for you."

  A chill went up Erika's spine. Some things hadn't changed. She wound up with butternut squash bisque and crusted filet of ahi tuna.

  She tried to ignore the knot forming in her stomach and asked a pointed question to gauge his reaction.

  "Why did you want to meet with me? To hand over the divorce papers?"

  Elliott raised an eyebrow and paused for effect before responding.

  "I do have them with me. But let’s not start off our night together with that stuff. This is the first time in the two years I've been asking that you agreed to go out with me. I thought you’d like me bringing you to what used to be one of our favorite spots, for old times' sake."

  Erika frowned. This used to be his favorite spot. Not hers.

  "Clearly you haven't been missing me for the entire two years," she said. "When are you getting married?"

  Elliott shrugged. "Mara's thinking about a Christmas wedding, but I'd like for it to be sooner, if you and I can settle our business before then."

  Mara. So that was her name.

  Erika remembered how he had talked her out of having a wedding. They had eloped to Jamaica instead, so he could attend a law firm conference with his "wife" in tow, prepping him for partnership in the firm.

  Sure enough, it had worked. He became partner within the first year of their marriage. They were the postcard pretty couple in public, but at home, Elliott's pretense melted like ice sizzling on a hot stove.

  He reached for her hand, and Erika hesitated.

  Here's your chance to know whether you still feel something, she told herself.

  When she rested her petite palm in his larger one, he spread it open and weaved his fingers through hers.

  Erika held her breath.

  "You know," he said softly, "we were beautiful together. If you would give us another chance, we could be again. Aaron needs us."

  The waitress arrived with their soup and Erika pulled away.

  That was her problem: She wanted to believe the fairy tale too. But this was for real; she couldn't just change the channel or pause the movie when things got ugly. Black eyes and bruised ribs hurt.

  "Weren't we just talking about your wedding plans to someone else, Elliott? And besides, how could I ever trust you again? You treated me worse than some people treat stray animals."

  Elliott gave her a puzzled look. "Erika, I've apologized for my behavior over and over again. I've gone to anger management counseling. I've become a faithful Christian. I accept supervised visits with our son. What else do you want me to do?”

  He stared at her, waiting for her to answer.

  Erika peered into his eyes, as if she could detect deception there. She'd never been able to do it when they were together, so why she believed she had that ability now eluded her.

  Because you have me, now.

  Ah, that was right. But was that enough? Could God really help her discern someone else's intent or see into his soul?

  Charlotte's wisdom played through her mind too: "Anybody can talk a good game. The truth comes out when they're put to the test. That's when you find out whether their talk and their walk line up."

  She considered Elliott's question, the one he'd been asking for quite some time now. What did she want him to do? Was there anything he could do to make her want to give their marriage another try?

  Instead of answering, she played dodge ball, as usual.

  "I'll ask you again, Elliott. Why are we here when . . . what's her name? Mara, is somewhere waiting to marry you? What are you going to do? Break it off with her and move Aaron and me back into your place? If you can cast her aside so easily, do you really love her?"

  "Of course I love her. She's a beautiful woman, inside and out." Elliott smiled proudly, as if he deserved no less. Then he leaned toward her again.

  "But you were my first love, Erika, and the Bible that you and I live by clearly says to love and honor the wife of your youth. No one is more beautiful to me than you. You’ll always have a special place in my heart. Always. The fact that you are the mother of my son, my firstborn, is even more meaningful.”

  Erika's heart softened. Part of her would always love him, too. It wasn't the desperate love or the thrilling love she'd once felt when she saw him enter a room, or heard his name, or feared what life would be like without him. But she was older now, so maybe that made a difference.

  Elliott was simply . . . familiar. And how awesome was it that each of them had connected with God? She relaxed and decided to enjoy this fancy meal.

  "You're still good with words."

  "I can be a good husband, too."

  She reminded herself that Elliott was a lawyer. He could banter with the best of them.

  They ate mostly in silence, with Erika playing over and over in her mind what life would be like if being with him were her reality again, and with Elliott gazing at her.

  After the meal, as they waited in valet parking for their vehicles, Erika stood next to Elliott with an ease she hadn't felt in a long time, if ever, really. She wasn't any closer to a decision about whether to move forward with a relationship with him or grant the divorce he had requested. Then again, after tonight, she wasn't sure he still wanted it.

  Elliott bent over to kiss her and she backed away.

  "Moving fast, aren't we?"

  "We are married, aren't we?"

  When she didn't respond, he pulled a slate gray envelope out of the inner pocket of his suit jacket.

  "Here are the papers. Take them and read them and let me know what you decide. I meant everything I said tonight. If you will remain my wife, I will do everything in my power to make you and our son happy, Erika. The minute you let me know you want to start over, I will call Mara and tell her we're finished."

  The power he had placed in her hands was intoxicating.

  Before she could form a response, the parking attendant pulled up and held open the door to her five-year-old Lexus sedan. She waved goodbye and drove away.

  As she slowly rounded the curve, she saw Elliott say something and slap palms with the attendant who had delivered her car. Another attendant arrived with Elliott's Mercedes. He stuck his hands in his pockets and strutted to the vehicle with a smile. All these years later, little had changed in his self-assured swagger.

  Thoughts of Derrick invaded the moment.

  20

  Serena knew the instant she opened her eyes that God had especially kissed this day. She couldn't pinpoint any particular reason, but she felt it with a knowing that defied explanation.

  Maybe it was the lightness in her spirit after her heart- to-heart talk with Micah last night. She fell asleep in his arms with a peace that had eluded her in recent days.

  She had gone to dinner with him prepared to inform him that now wasn't the time to start wavering on his vows, but that hadn't been necessary. He had been smart enough to take her to the place that reminded her why she married him.

  There, she could be as honest with him as she had been when they had their very first lunch and became instant friends. There, instead of thinking about the dirty laundry he scattered on the floor or the household repairs that remained undone, she remembered all the times she had needed him to stand with her, or for her, or to love her in spite of her shortcomings, and how Micah had never let her down.

  Or maybe her joy this morning was related to having Tawana and Misha under her roof. Their presence had already added a warmth to the household, as if the old Colonial functioned better with more people, connected to each other, underfoot.

  Serena wasn't sure what about this day was speaking to her, but she uttered an extra-special prayer of thanks before lifting her head from her pillow.

  She stretched and looked at the digital clock on her bedside, surprised that the twins hadn't served as her alarm. Seven-thirty was late for them
to still be sleeping. Tawana had allowed them to stay up until just after nine, though, with an apology to Serena and Micah about a movie delaying bath time.

  Serena had understood. They were going to be a handful to settle down at bedtime for a while until they got used to having Misha around. This morning, Serena was grateful for the reprieve.

  She rolled over to greet her husband with a kiss and found his side of the bed empty. Ah, Sunday morning prayer. He had made his way to his attic-level study.

  Serena nearly jumped out of her skin when she descended the stairs and heard the clang and clatter of pots. Then she remembered Tawana.

  "Good morning, Goldilocks," Serena said as she entered the kitchen, clutching her chest. "You almost gave me a heart attack."

  Tawana turned from the stove where she was flipping pancakes. "Goldilocks?"

  "Yeah, as in 'The Three Bears.' I didn't know who was up in my porridge."

  The two women laughed until tears almost rolled.

  Serena started a pot of coffee for Micah. He never ate before he preached, but she usually got him to consume something liquid.

  She turned on the small TV attached to one of the cabinets and channel surfed, clicking past two prominent local ministers, the Rev. Garland Greer on channel 8 and the Rev. Ulysses Hawthorne of First Baptist on NBC 12. She paused when a commercial featuring Pastor Jason Lyons caught her eye. The PGU Network was now airing Standing Rock services at 8:00 a.m. and again on Sunday evenings.

  Tawana turned to look. "He is a good-looking man. And he can preach."

  Serena didn't respond. She scanned the faces in the choir behind him and recognized some of her former friends, the ones who saw her in Ukrop's or at one of the area malls and averted their eyes.

  Micah came up behind her and rubbed her stomach. "Mornin', love."

  Serena looked up at him and smiled. They had decided to keep the baby news to themselves for a while. She grabbed the remote to turn the channel.

  Micah waved his hand and sat at the table.

  "Don't worry about it. You can't live in Richmond and avoid Jason and Standing Rock. They are doing their thing."

  Tawana looked at Micah curiously. "How does that make you feel?"

  Serena brought him a cup of coffee and sat across from him. She thought she knew the answer but wanted to hear it firsthand.

  Micah looked heavenward and then at Tawana. "I'm not going to lie to you. Some days I'll be listening to the radio or I'll pass a Standing Rock billboard and I will ask myself what was I thinking. Something says to me, 'That could be you on the cover of Black Visionaries, driving the Hummer, living large out in Short Pump. You lost your mind.'"

  Serena raised her eyebrows in surprise. Micah took a sip of the plain, black coffee and continued.

  "That's what I call my bad angel."

  He laughed and looked at Serena.

  "Then God scolds me. He reminds me what he was speaking to my spirit three years ago. Not once during my prayer time did he nudge me to say yes to PGU or to give in to the demands of Standing Rock's deacon and trustee board and focus on prosperity gospel."

  Micah shrugged. "We all know that God works in ways we don't understand. At least I know it. I can speculate all day about why I was fired and why this ministry is thriving under Jason. I just believe that God's Word is true: What God has for me is for me, and that everything happens as it should, even when I don't understand.

  "We have more than a thousand members now, and they've blessed me with a full-time livable salary, thank God."

  He sighed heavily. "But, we're still meeting at Stillwell Elementary School for services. I can only have 'office hours' with church members when school is over and the administrators have cleared the premises. Things could be a lot more comfortable. Every time I start to feel sorry for myself, though, or question whether I'm successful, somebody will share with me how a New Hope ministry, one of my sermons, or one of our members helped them, and I'm grateful again for where God has planted me."

  Micah pushed his chair away from the table and strode to the counter to pour himself another cup of coffee. "Guess you ladies got your sermon already today, huh?"

  The three of them laughed.

  Tawana flipped the last pancake on top of a large stack and put the platter in the oven to keep them warm. She brought plates of pancakes, eggs, and bacon to the table for herself and Serena and apologized to Micah.

  "I didn't realize you fast before your sermons. There are plenty if you want brunch after service."

  Micah chuckled. "Don't sweat it. Go ahead and eat. I'm used to Serena and the kids wolfing down food in front of me."

  Serena feigned an attitude before she took a bite. "Excuse me?"

  Micah winked at her and looked at Tawana. "Thanks for getting up early this morning to cook, T, but don't feel like you've got to be the nanny around here. You're family; you don't have to earn your keep."

  Serena nodded in agreement as she consumed the delicious meal. He had spoken before she could.

  She picked up the remote and flipped the channels, this time stopping when she saw a breaking news banner on Channel 6. She turned up the volume.

  The weekend anchor was reporting the latest regarding the search for suspects in the murder of the teen whose disappearance and tragic discovery had been the top local news story for weeks. The community had been on pins and needles, worried sick that other youths in their quiet suburban area might be at risk. But the anchor announced this morning that a suspect was now in custody.

  "Eighteen-year-old Neal Lewis, the son of prominent banker Walker Lewis, has been charged with first degree murder for the slaying of Drew Thomas. Neal Lewis is a recent graduate of the prestigious Seward School in Washington, D.C., and is slated to enroll in Stanford University in the fall. Sources close to the case say that Neal Lewis was a frequent visitor to Richmond and that he and the victim met at a party earlier this year at a mutual friend's Richmond home. No motive has been released at this time, but late yesterday, the young suspect's parents retained the services of Wallace, Jones and Johns, the nationally respected criminal defense firm based here in Richmond."

  Micah and Serena simultaneously turned to Tawana.

  "That's your firm," Serena said.

  With her eyes still glued to the tube, Tawana nodded.

  "Looks like I'm not going to have much time for cooking after today anyway."

  21

  Serena arrived at Stillwell Elementary School for New Hope's 9:00 a.m. service and got a possible inkling of why she had awakened this morning with such conviction. God was going to make her a more patient woman today—her limits were already being tested.

  The classrooms in the third grade wing of the school had flooded during a heavy overnight rain, so there would be no nursery care today. It was every parent for himself or herself. Besides that wing of the school, the only other areas of the building Micah had permission to use were the gym, where members worshipped, and the cafeteria, which the ministry used as a fellowship hall.

  Mr. Bracey, the school's janitor, arrived just after 8:30 a.m. so he could dry and clean the three affected classrooms for the students and teacher who would need them tomorrow.

  "None of the books or desks were damaged, but how many times are they going to let this happen before they do something?" he grumbled. "If this hallway didn't slope down, the standing water in here could have flowed in the other direction and messed up the gym floor."

  He shook his head and pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his small nose.

  "The last week of school and the kids have to come back to this mess tomorrow. I told the bigwigs around here a long time ago that a good storm was going to flood these classrooms. This wing of the building sits lower than the rest of the school, and when it was added on, it wasn't constructed well. Plus, it's just plain old. I've been complaining about water seepage and leaks in the roof for years, but don't nobody listen to me."

  Serena smiled and patted his arm. She was gl
ad he cared so much about the students and the school.

  "I'm guessing a lack of money is partly to blame, Mr. Bracey," she said. "Since you're already here, are you going to stay for service this morning?"

  He clutched the vacuum hose that he would use in a few minutes to suction the water before he mopped.

  "I guess I could, First Lady McDaniels."

  Serena didn't argue with his formality. She had invited him on several occasions to call her Serena, but knew that Mr. Bracey's generation didn't play when it came to respecting their church leaders.

  "Good," Serena said. "Feel free to sit with me, but don't worry about me being offended if you choose not to. Since the nursery's closed, I'm going to have my hands full."

  She pointed down the hallway at the twins, who were running in circles around Tawana, with Misha right behind them.

  "They slept later than usual this morning, but I'm hoping they'll still fall asleep in church."

  Micah rounded the corner and approached just in time to respond. He shook Mr. Bracey's hand and playfully nudged hear Serena’s comments.

  "Sorry, lady. I'm not that type of preacher. My sermons leave even the babies spellbound."

  Serena rolled her eyes. "How about I let them run wild just as you're getting into your message?"

  Instead of teasing her further, he nodded toward the door. Serena turned and waved when she saw Erika enter, with Aaron trotting behind her. Micah touched Serena's shoulder.

  "Gotta run and get ready. Looks like you'll have lots of help with the boys, love. I'll keep the service short and sweet—for all of you parents who've lost your quiet time today."

  Serena narrowed her eyes and shook her fist at him. She turned and hugged Mr. Bracey. "See you in the gym, Mr. B. Let me round up my little fellas."

  He returned to his work, and to his grumbling.

  Serena approached her friends and lifted Aaron in the air for a hug.

  "How's my little man?"

  "Hi, Auntie," he said and squeezed her neck tight enough for his miniature muscles to bulge through his blue collared shirt.