by Pat Simmons
Cheney couldn’t contain her laughter. “You’re kiddin’, right?”
“Nope, brush up on your dance moves, Heney. You haven’t seen anything until you see me salsa and mambo.” Mrs. Beacon demonstrated a quick spin, scaring Cheney.
She hadn’t missed Mrs. Beacon referring to her as Heney. It no longer irritated her, but had become a term of endearment. Cheney held up one hand like she was stopping traffic. “Okay, okay. I hope for your sake they play some slow jams so you won’t hurt yourself and something familiar to me, so I can stay alert to carry you home.”
Her adopted grandma had shooed Cheney off her porch. “Now go get dressed. I’ll drive. I’m in a rush to get there.”
“We’ve got all night.” Cheney then rushed next door to get dressed.
Now, hours later and sipping punch, she watched Mrs. Beacon mingle with other older women, fashionably dressed and just as youthful looking as Tina Turner and Cher. Cheney fanned herself, exhausted from repeats of the Cha-Cha Slide—the long version.
Tapping her sandal, Cheney hummed along as the band wooed its guests with Motown favorites.
“R-E-S-P-E-C-T”.
“Yeah, ‘Retha, that’s what I’m talking about,” yelled a middle-aged White woman who blushed when some twenty-something sistahs gave her high fives.
Pairing off to rumba, the band eventually played a romantic Latin beat. Men openly flirted with women as they spun them around, turning them under their arms. The couples’ touches were possessive, their stares seductive, and their movements natural.
Cheney didn’t ask for it, but Larry’s dark face materialized as in an old black-and-white movie. Memories of them dancing the night away appeared after acing their finals. The image fizzled, replaced with something colorful, full of energy, and blossoming with love. Cheney imagined Paki and Elaine dressed in African garb, dancing together in sync, oozing with passion, hypnotized by love. A defying love that would accept challenges together, no matter what the cost. Why Larry? Why couldn’t you accept the challenge?
Munching on hors d’oeuvres, Cheney continued to watch. “Because you were a loser. I’m a loser. Good luck, Parke, with finding your Elaine.” Cheney shrugged. “The prince I found was an imposter—the dog, wolf, and mutt.”
“Stop eating and talking to yourself, girl, it’s time to get some exercise. C’mon, it’s salsa, baby,” Mrs. Beacon said in an Austin Powers drawl.
Groaning, Cheney complied. Mrs. Beacon dragged her to the center of the dance floor. Together they resembled Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny DeVito, but Cheney was having a ball despite the lateness of the hour. Funny how first impressions were deceiving. The ruthless, tactless Mrs. Beacon was fast becoming a close friend.
Cheney also didn’t know what to think about Parke. After spending that day with him and listening to his family background, she’d have to rethink her opinion of him as annoying. He was as fascinating as he was fine, and she hated that she noticed. Parke also caused her to miss her dysfunctional family. Plus, she had yet to figure out what the deal was with his prayer over their food.
She stole a moment to fantasize about a genuine family. If she could have one wish, one hope, one blessing, or one prayer, it would be for her to start her own family. But she’d relinquished her dream and when Mrs. Beacon wasn’t looking, she sneaked off the dance floor.
Chapter Fourteen
Looping a leather belt through the waist of his jeans, Parke hummed along with Brian McKnight’s Love of My Life. Closing his eyes, Parke listened as the singer’s pitch grasped at an incredible and sometimes unimaginable love.
A long, carefree paintbrush appeared in his imagination, stroking a canvas, building layers of what he proposed consisted of a relationship—admiration, deep attraction, and mutual respect. Beauty was a must, but he had to have someone with a sense of humor.
He had to have a son to continue the Jamieson name, and a daughter just because. The adorable little girl featured in one of Brian McKnight’s videos came to his mind. So far, something was always missing with his dates. Yet, when he reminisced about his ancestors with Cheney, his yearning increased to continue the Jamieson bloodline.
The sound of the phone ended his daydream. Parke reached for his cordless and lowered the volume on his CD player. He checked the caller ID. “Hello, Nettie.”
“Hey, did I disturb you or ya heading out for a wild, sinful date?”
“Ooh, Annette, you know me so well,” Parke baited her because for once she was wrong. “I’m on my way to Mom and Dad’s for family night. Believe it or not, alone.”
“Hallelujah. My prayers are being answered. Please keep working on him, Lord.”
“Jesus and I are just fine. I believe in Him, and I accept Him. You don’t have to request a work order for me.”
She softened her tone. “We all need Jesus to work on us. How’s your prayer life?”
“Good when I remember to do it.” Parke racked his brain to actually pinpoint the last time. It had been with Cheney. Surely there were other times. He couldn’t put his finger on one. “Just because I don’t go around quoting scriptures, praying for people, living celibate, and bugging folks about Jesus, doesn’t mean I’m going to hell. Jesus and I have an understanding. He accepts me as I am, and I’m cool with that.”
“You’re off base. God always gives a warning before destruction. Listen, God told me to tell you ‘Behold, now is the day of salvation.’ Read 2 Corinthians 6, like your number. Remember, God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten son, that whosoever believeth on Him, won’t perish. I don’t want to see you perish.”
“Annette, Annette, Annette, you’ve got too much church drama for me.”
“That’s okay. You can’t insult me because I’m praying for your soul. God revealed to me that somebody close to you really needs the Lord. Pay attention!”
Why the desperation in her voice? He never recalled her pleading with him before. He wanted to say something witty to lighten the moment, but thought better of it.
“I love you, Parke,” Annette whispered so soft, he barely heard her.
“I love you, too, Nettie.”
“God gave me a job to do, and I plan to carry it out.”
Always the little soldier to fight for whatever she believed in. He loved her determination, just not her agenda this time. “Bye.” Dismissing Annette’s so-called prophecy, Parke grabbed his keys and left.
***
Something was about to change for Hallison. After leaving “the church” five years ago, she still felt the invisible hands holding her back from things others might have considered sinful. Malcolm wouldn’t put his sexual desires for her on hold forever. It was time. If she felt guilty afterwards, she would repent. God said, ‘If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.’ Exactly, this was something she wanted to experience, presumptuous sin or not.
Hallison glanced at her bedside clock. Malcolm would arrive soon to take her to his parents’ house. Massaging ripe-raspberry cream into her pores, she hoped the scent would seep into Malcolm’s brain throughout the night and drive him crazy. She dressed in a brown off-the-shoulder crocheted top and a leopard-print crinkle long skirt with side splits up to her thighs that were sure to keep Malcolm’s attention.
The doorbell rang as she slipped her feet into her heeled scandals. Taking a deep breath, Hallison examined her reflection and smiled. “Your temptress is coming.” Swinging open the door, Hallison stood surprised, embarrassed, flabbergasted, and felt as naked as Eve. “Mama?” Suddenly, she needed a cigarette.
“Hi, baby. I was leaving prayer meeting and the Lord sent me over to check on you.” Her mother reached up and kissed her cheek. Addison’s fifty-nine-year-old face was naturally beautiful and youthful with no need for makeup. Long, black wavy hair with strands of gray hung behind her shoulders in a tightly curled flip. Confidence mixed with humility was her trademark. Her aura and modest appearance was unmi
stakably that of a Holy Ghost-filled saint. It wasn’t in her hair, face, or clothes, but her spirit. She had the brightest smile and a soft-spoken voice that had comforted Hallison many times.
“Me? Mama, church is twenty-five minutes in the opposite direction. We’ve already spoken once this morning. See, I’m fine, but I got a date tonight.”
Addison waited patiently to be invited inside. “I won’t hold you. Mind if I sit a few minutes before I travel all the way back home?”
She tightly hugged her mother. “You mean until you’ve met Malcolm?”
“Well, since I’m here.” Coming inside, she made herself comfortable on the sofa.
On the way to the kitchen, Hallison could feel her mother’s eyes following her. “Is grape juice okay?” The doorbell kept her mother from responding. “I’ll get it.”
When Hallison opened the door, a large colorful bouquet blocked her view. Slowly, Malcolm removed the flowers and captured her in an alluring kiss. She placed her fingers on his chest before he could deepen it. “Behave. My mother’s here.”
“Is she as beautiful as you?” he whispered as he handed her the flowers.
“You’re a big flirt, Mr. Jamieson.”
“Only with you, Miss Dinkins.” He handed her the flowers and kissed her hair.
She turned around and led the way to her mother. Malcolm followed. “Mama, this is Malcolm Jamieson. Malcolm, Mrs. Dinkins.”
Instead of extending his right hand, he bent and kissed Addison on the cheek. Hallison smiled, crossing her fingers. Brownie point.
In turn, her mother patted the space beside her. “Hali, why don’t you give Malcolm and me a few minutes to chat?”
Hallison groaned and Malcolm winked. He crossed one knee over the other, folding his hands. “I guess you want to know something about me.”
“That would be nice.”
“I’m twenty-six years old. I’m gainfully employed as a CPA at Winfield & Young Accounting Firm. I earned my business degree at University of Missouri at Columbia. I have two other brothers. I’m—”
“But are you saved, young man?”
“Saved from what, Mrs. Dinkins?”
Eavesdropping, Hallison gritted her teeth as Addison gave him a stern look, no smile was forthcoming. “Your sins, son. Do you know who Jesus is?”
“Oh, ah, yes, I know who Jesus is.”
“Good, then maybe you and Hali will come visit my church one Sunday.”
This is not happening. Hallison quickly reappeared and handed Malcolm a glass of 7-Up and her mother a bottle of grape juice. “Mama, I need fresh material, new ideas, youthful approaches, things like that in a church.” When Malcolm reach for her hand, Hallison took it for support.
Tilting her head, Addison said nothing right away. “I see. A few weeks ago, I counted seven young ministers heading several youth ministries. You seemed to have forgotten my church, our church, has something for every member. Singles, divorcees, teenagers, children, new couples, new mothers—”
“Mama, that’s not the only church in St. Louis. I’m asking God to lead me to a good church.” I haven’t asked Him yet, but it’s on my to-do list. She didn’t believe a word she heard from preachers; therefore, she questioned everything.
Sipping her juice, her mother wore an unreadable expression. “Sooner or later, He’ll answer, sweetie. By the way, when was the last time you two have been to church?”
You don’t have to answer, Hallison wanted to scream but it was too late.
Malcolm shrugged. “It’s been a long time, Mrs. Dinkins, but I do pray before I eat my food.”
Placing her bottle on a coaster on the end table, Addison stood. “I see. Then, you won’t mind if I pray for you two right now.”
Malcolm got on his feet, grinning. “Of course not, do we, Hali?”
Fretting, Hallison bowed her head. Malcolm just didn’t know what he agreed to.
Reaching inside her handbag, Addison withdrew an aspirin-sized bottle. She untwisted the cap and turned it upside down against her finger. “I’m going to anoint you with Holy Oil for protection against the devil.” She dabbed a spot on their foreheads. Bowing her head, she began to pray, “Father God, in the name of Jesus, we come boldly to Your throne of grace, thanking You for Your mercy and Your goodness. Lord, I especially thank You for watching over and protecting my only daughter. Jesus, You said You’re married to the backslider. Let her come back before it’s too late.”
The more Addison prayed, the tighter she gripped their hands. “And, Jesus, You know where Malcolm’s mind and thoughts are. Your Word says, ‘No man can come unto the Father, unless You draw him.’ Draw Malcolm tonight. Lord, show him Your way.”
Hallison watched as one of her mother’s eyes popped opened. “Please lead him to read Colossians 3:2-5. That’s the book of Colossians, third chapter, verses two through five. ‘Set your affection on the things above, not on things on the earth’ and ‘Mortify therefore your members which are upon the earth; fornication, uncleanness, inordinate affection, evil concupiscence, and covetousness, which is idolatry.’ Again, the Book of Colossians, that’s in the New Testament between Philippians and 1 Thessalonians.”
Despite being annoyed with her mother for taking advantage of an open door, Hallison couldn’t help but smile at her slick way of witnessing to Malcolm. Hallison thought she was about to preach.
Then Addison’s strong voice dropped to a whisper, “Thank You, Jesus. Thank You, Jesus. Thank You, Jesus for what’s already done.”
It’s almost over. Hallison relaxed and readied herself for the conclusion.
Suddenly, her mother came back with renewed strength. “God, we know the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.”
Without a doubt, Hallison knew that wasn’t an idle hint. It was for Malcolm. Her message was probably next.
“Lord, You told the saints in Romans 12:1: ‘I beseech you, therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service’.”
She got it—the message from her mother and the Lord. Please close the prayer, Hallison silently pleaded.
It was not to be as her mother added, “Verse two says, “ ‘And be not conformed to this world but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God.’ In Jesus’s name. Amen.”
Amen. Finally, it was over. Hallison was afraid to look at Malcolm as they released hands. Her mother, however, seemed exceptionally happy as she reached to retrieve her purse off the sofa, but Malcolm beat her to it.
“Well, I came and did what the Lord had me to do, pray. You two have a blessed night in the Lord. Malcolm, it was a pleasure meeting you. Take care of my daughter.”
Hugging Hallison, her mother whispered in her ear. “I love you, and Jesus loves you, too. By the way, Malcolm is very handsome and very unsaved. Be careful.”
Hallison sniffed, hoping Malcolm wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes. “I love you, Mama. I’ll find my way,” she whispered, walking her to the door. But Hallison wasn’t looking. She had seen with her own eyes, church folks stealing and sleeping around. And they got blessed anyway with cars, jobs, and homes. She’d heard with her own ears, gossiping and cursing. Lightning didn’t strike them dead. They were in excellent health.
What she was feeling for Malcolm and what she planned to do about it was her business. No pastor was going to tell her what not to do with her man like the advice given to Tavia, an old friend. God wasn’t in control. Sinners got blessed while children of God suffered and died. When she was ready to fool herself again, she would return to church.
With tenderness, Addison brushed a kiss against her cheek. “Jesus is the only way, the truth, and the light. I know He will lead you if you allow Him.”
Malcolm came to her side. “Mrs. Dinkins, let me walk you to your car.” Then turned and gave her a loving look. “I�
��ll be right back.”
Hallison paced the wheat-colored carpet in her living room, waiting for his return. “I’m sorry. I’m so embarrassed.” Hallison’s hands covered her face.
“Why, baby?”
“My mother’s beliefs aren’t mine anymore.”
Pushing her hands away, Malcolm guided her chin to his face. “Hali, I like your mother. She’s beautiful, sweet, and a strong person, like the woman I’m crazy about who promised to spend some time with me and my family tonight.” He trapped her in a secure embrace. “You’re the woman who has had my attention for the past six months, two weeks, and one day. I haven’t counted the hours and minutes yet.”
“Can I share something?” When he nodded, Hallison continued, “I chose not to have God in my life. I detest dictatorship or censorship of my decisions.”
“Baby, don’t get upset. I can take or leave God. We’ve got each other. That’s what’s important.”
Hallison encircled his neck with her arms. Through blurred vision, she met him in a soft kiss. “You’re too much of what I want and need. Thank you for understanding.” She exhaled. Thank God Malcolm had not been swayed. What a contradictory thought.
“C’mon, my parents, Parke, plus his woman of the hour are waiting.”
As Hallison locked her apartment door, Malcolm chuckled. “You know, sweetheart, if I ever get deathly sick, please have your mom pray for me.”
“Believe me there would be no way I could stop her.”
***
Parke walked through the front door of his parents’ Paddock Estates ranch home in North St. Louis County yelling, “Hello.”
Charlotte Jamieson opened her arms for a hug. “PJ, welcome home, it’s been lonely without you and your brothers.” Releasing him, she stepped back, giving him a curious look.