Julia turned so suddenly, Maxwell nearly tripped and fell. Her brow furrowed as she turned toward him, Julia waved a hand in warning. “Let’s not get carried away here, Doctor. We’re a long way from you interacting closely with Amber.”
“O-kay.” Maxwell looked back at an older couple that had been waiting to exit through the same door. “Excuse us, please.” He held the door for the senior citizens, and once they had passed him, he stepped out behind Julia.
“Too much to ask about meeting the kid, huh?” he said, tone playful. “I just meant that I’m enjoying all this. Getting to really know you after all these years —well, it’s the best experience I’ve had since returning to Dayton.”
Julia frowned mildly, aware that her brisk pace challenged Maxwell’s ability to keep up. “I’m going to guess that’s not setting a very high bar.” She crossed her arms, disturbed by the cynical spirit creeping through her being.
“Okay.” Maxwell stepped directly into her path, keeping his hands to himself but letting his eyes shine with urgency. “What changed just now?”
“Don’t bring my niece into this,” Julia replied. “Okay? I’m not asking much of you. I’m content to just live in the moment and enjoy whatever it is we’re doing. When you start talking about meeting Amber, it raises unrealistic expectations.”
“What’s unrealistic?” Maxwell splayed his gloved hands wide, a pleading tone in his voice. “Julia, I thought we agreed to spend time together, hang out, and trust the Lord to guide the results?”
“Yes, we did.” Julia took off again, her high leather boots clacking against the sidewalk as Maxwell tried to look cool while moving fast to keep up. “But it’s not like this is going to end the way I’d really like it to.”
“Marriage?” The word tripped off Maxwell’s tongue with a bit of uncertainty, as if it were loaded with more weight than he could accommodate. “Not that I would ever rule it out with the right woman, but isn’t it early to be talking like this?”
“You’re the one who wants to play family, not me.” Julia didn’t even look at Maxwell as she bolted into an open elevator leading to the parking garage, and she barely looked toward him when he slid in just behind her.
“I’ve apparently triggered something,” Maxwell said after they had stood in silence for several seconds. As the elevator descended, he drilled into her with a narrowed stare. “Why do you think there’s no chance of this working out?”
Julia sighed as the elevator doors opened, keeping her head down as she massaged her forehead. “In the car, Maxwell. Once we’re in the car.”
Julia was relieved to get a few minutes to stew in her own reflections as Maxwell cruised his car through downtown Cincinnati and onto I-75 North. Hoping to camouflage her unease, she pretended to check messages on her cell phone as she prayed for calm. The very thought of Maxwell meeting Amber in a social setting had sparked thoughts for which she was not prepared, a budding hope that this surprise friendship might actually blossom into a storybook tale: girl loses boy, only to capture him two decades later. Julia was proud of one thing —the fact that she’d immediately recognized the thought as lunacy.
They had been in the car nearly thirty minutes when Maxwell tried to coax her promised explanation. “We’ll be home pretty soon,” he said, trying to keep his tone light. “Out with it.”
Looking over at him from the passenger seat, Julia drew her back up, ready to shift the spotlight. Neck working, she said, “So tell me, when were you going to take me out for dinner again with your buddies and their wives?”
“Oh, come on,” Maxwell replied, chuckling. “Like you really want to go out with Lyle and Jake again?”
“Why wouldn’t I? Lyle’s wife gave me that lovely check to help the school system.”
“Yeah, but that was despite the fact you guys hit it off about as well as Barack and Hillary in a presidential debate.” Shrugging as he switched highway lanes, Maxwell glanced over at Julia. “Truth be told, I’m enjoying keeping you to myself for now.”
“Of course you are —anything to keep me in my place.”
Maxwell slapped his steering wheel, involuntarily turning to stare at Julia. “What?”
Julia could feel the heat of her own glare as she faced him in the evening dusk. “Have you even told them we’re seeing one another?”
“Those who need to know, know.” Maxwell kept his eyes on the road, although Julia aimed her eyes toward him like lasers. “I’ve been focused on enjoying our time together. I’m not real worried about who else knows just yet.” He finally braved a glance at her. “Who all have you told?”
“No one,” Julia grumbled, nearly under her breath, feeling increasingly silly for having raised the topic. “But that’s because I have only one real friend here, and she’s got enough on her mind without the trivia of my barely functioning love life.”
Maxwell arched an eyebrow. “So why the accusing tone about whether I’ve told Lyle or Jake?”
“I don’t know, Maxwell.” Julia sighed, a deep exhalation full of years of anxiety. “Maybe I was foolish enough to hope that something had changed since the good old days, you know? The ones when you and your friends clearly thought that long, feathery hair, white or ‘plenty light’ skin, and D-cup breasts set the standards for beauty. If that’s what you still want, there’s no point in me taking any of this seriously.”
Maxwell shook his head, taking a minute to accentuate his indignant tone with a glare. “Where is this coming from?”
“Oh, come on.” Julia met his eyes and shifted toward him. “Have you ever even dated a black woman, Maxwell?”
Julia didn’t miss Maxwell’s hesitation, the way he nervously began drumming on his steering wheel. “What kind of question is that?”
“One that has a yes or no answer, Doctor.”
Maxwell grunted. “It doesn’t even deserve an answer, it’s so insulting.” Huffing, he reached forward and increased the volume on his car radio. As the car swelled with the thumps of Kirk Franklin’s new CD, he set his eyes hard on the road ahead, clearly unwilling to continue the conversation.
Dismayed at what the evening had come to, but glad to have beat back the vulnerability Maxwell had nearly ripped open in her, Julia waited another few minutes before delivering her rejoinder. “Just for the record, ‘brother,’ your silence is deafening.”
26
Seated in their pastor’s waiting room, opposite an empty receptionist’s desk, Cassie and Julia spoke to one another in hushed tones. Julia leaned hard on her own right elbow as she placed her lips near her friend’s left ear. “Are M.J. and Marcus still staying out of trouble?”
“So far, so good,” Cassie replied, shrugging as her eyes darted around the room, clearly tracking whether any inquiring minds had wandered in. “M.J. really took the news well —I was afraid he would either get irrationally angry or feel so threatened by Whitlock that he might overcompensate and retreat into a shell.”
Julia crossed her legs, let her posture slump just a touch. “He’s young, Cassie, but he’s strong. I’m not surprised that he can handle it. And you’re sure he’s not still hanging with Dante?”
“Marcus is seeing to that pretty well,” Cassie replied, smiling. “Now that football season is over, M.J. doesn’t have many excuses not to come home shortly after school lets out. Since Marcus is his own boss at the magazine, he’s able to take off in the afternoons now and accompany M.J. to all these meetings with college football recruiters too. So M.J. doesn’t have much opportunity to make any stupid moves.”
“And Marcus is setting a good example, hmm?”
“Ever since Whitlock decided to drop the assault charges, Marcus has done more than I could ask. I haven’t had to set M.J. straight in weeks —not about Dante, not about some random fast little girl, you name it. Marcus is reconnecting with him. Their father-son bond has been restored. I guess that’s why I’ve been able to focus more on Heather and Hillary lately. God is working.”
“Well, l
et Him be praised,” Julia replied, patting her friend’s hand. “M.J. and Marcus have their wits about them, and Whitlock’s bark is still worse than his bite.” While they were under no illusions that the detective had gone away —in fact, he had lately taken to driving by Julia’s house on a regular basis in addition to Cassie’s —he continued to keep his distance.
Although she found herself sleeping with one eye open as a result, Julia was convinced that Whitlock’s desire for revenge was now at war with his respect for the legal process they had initiated. “Another week of collaboration between our attorneys, and we may be ready to finally have the air cleared.”
Cassie looked into Julia’s eyes, appreciation pouring forth. “Won’t it feel good to finally have clean hands about all this?”
“Yes,” Julia agreed, nodding and patting Cassie’s hand again. “The spiritual relief will be great. I’ll be able to focus more on what’s most important again —Amber, Christian Light —and who knows? Maybe I’ll be able to think more clearly about Maxwell.”
“Maxwell?” Cassie jumped in her seat, and her flustered tone reminded Julia that she had just revealed more than planned. “What you got to be thinking about Dr. Maxwell, Julia?”
Julia bowed her head, letting it fall into her open hands. “You did not hear that.”
“Oh, please, girlfriend, I sure did —”
“Ladies?” The tall oak door to the pastor’s study swung open suddenly, revealing Reverend Barbara O’Neal. Peering out at Julia and Cassie through a pair of stylish glasses with black frames, she beckoned them with the wiggle of a finger. “Sorry to keep you busy professionals waiting. Let’s get this show on the road.”
“We appreciate you agreeing to see us with late notice, Pastor,” Cassie said as they removed their coats and settled into seats at the large round table adjacent to Pastor O’Neal’s desk.
“Not a problem,” the pastor said as she grabbed a large leather Bible from an end table. “You know I value the contributions —in time and finances —that you each make to our congregation. It’s in our interest to provide spiritual insight whenever you need it.” Taking a seat at the table, she reached for each woman’s hands. “Let’s pray.”
Silence descended for several seconds once Pastor O’Neal completed her prayer. It took a light kick in the shins from Julia to get Cassie to open her mouth. “Pastor, Julia and I have agonized over this, but we felt moved by the Spirit to get your guidance regarding a very sensitive issue from our respective pasts.”
Julia practiced what was for her remarkable restraint as Cassie continued with an account of the tragic facts, from the moment of Eddie’s initial attack on her, up through Pete Whitlock’s harassments. They had agreed that the best way to lay it out for a new observer would be to have one person tell the foundational story.
Once Cassie had accomplished that, Julia took over. “Pastor, now that we have obtained legal representation, we’re looking at what to do as the rubber meets the road.”
“Let me be sure I understand,” Pastor O’Neal said, rocking back and forth in her chair. “Your criminal defense attorneys are going to contact the Dayton district attorney, and enter your accounts as confessions?”
Julia nodded. “Yes.”
The pastor frowned. “And was this the counsel of your lawyers, that your accounts have to be shared with the authorities?”
“Oh, no,” Cassie replied. “Our attorneys have to treat any information we give as confidential, unless we release them to share it. But Julia and I agreed, we wanted to confess to our involvement in that terrible night’s events. We just couldn’t live with this secret any longer.”
“Well, I can’t argue with any action that’s in support of telling the truth,” Pastor O’Neal said, crossing the legs of her pants suit. “I obviously have no legal training —so what exactly is at stake here?”
Julia glanced at Cassie as she said, “Both of our attorneys are of the opinion that —as it’s clear that the injuries that incapacitated Eddie Walker were related to the truck that ran him down —our confessions to injuring him in self-defense wouldn’t have earned major sentences even when the case was fresh.”
“Hmph.” Pastor O’Neal’s eyes flickered with a dizzying combination of protective sympathy and insistent scolding. “Four black girls, in the eighties, admitting to involvement in an episode that ended with the near-death of a white boy? They would have tried to throw the book at you.” She sat up straighter in her seat, seemingly catching herself. “That’s not to say you shouldn’t have come forward with the truth then, of course.”
“Yes, Pastor,” Cassie replied. “You’re correct, and I think Julia agrees that if we could go back in time, we’d have trusted God to protect us, and just told our parents the whole truth. Believe me, we have prayed for forgiveness more times than you could imagine.”
“Well,” the pastor replied, “you’ve sat up under enough of my teaching to know that Jesus doesn’t require us to ask forgiveness multiple times. You confess to him once and ask for forgiveness and cleansing, and know that He has done it. More important, though, you marry confession to restitution. And you are clearly taking that step now. Two questions.”
Julia nodded. “Go on.”
“How will your confessions impact the other two women who were with you that night?”
“This is the most uncomfortable aspect for us,” Julia replied, “and one of the main reasons we wanted your insight. I believe, personally, that God holds each of us accountable for how we deal with sin in our lives, and that we ultimately answer to Him only with respect to making restitution. Am I on the right track?”
Pastor O’Neal nodded grimly. “Absolutely, Julia. Wouldn’t it be nice if we could delay confession and restitution of wrongs, by saying we’re waiting on everyone who was involved to take the same steps with us? There is no evidence in the Word of God expecting us to operate that way. Every sin we commit grows out of our individual decision to depart from God’s way, not anyone else’s. So while it’s great that the two of you are on one accord about this confession, you certainly should not wait on your other friends to do the same. You should, however, let them know what you are doing.”
Cassie and Julia looked at each other across the table, and Julia mentally replayed her many unsuccessful attempts the past month to reach Toya. Terry had at least responded to Cassie’s message that they were seeking counsel from defense attorneys; Terry had insisted she had no money with which to retain counsel, but to keep her posted on whatever decision they made about how to move forward.
“What will Terry do?” Cassie’s question was met with silence as Julia looked into her lap.
Pastor O’Neal cleared her throat before saying, “I suggest you two simply contact both of them and let them know this is what you are doing. They can decide how to proceed for themselves.” She looked over at Cassie and patted her hand. “If Terry is more open to it when she learns what’s coming, maybe you two could pay her legal fees. Now, for my other question.”
Julia wiped sprouting tears from her eyes. “Yes?”
“Let’s say that it turns out that there is no significant penalty associated with your confession. Will you feel that sufficient restitution has been made?”
“To be honest, Pastor,” Cassie replied, standing and walking over to comfort Julia, “we were hoping you could help us answer that question.”
27
Maxwell was in constant motion, darting back and forth between his bedroom and bathroom in a rush to keep an appointment to see Nia, when someone buzzed his intercom. “I’m in your lobby,” Julia said, her tone as close to sheepish as he could imagine from her.
“Come on up,” he said, hitting the appropriate button without hesitation. Not like he had a minute to spare before heading down to Mason to get Nia, but something told him this was no time to put her off.
“I owe you an apology,” she said as he pulled his door open. Stepping insistently past him, she paused in the foyer, her
neck craning up toward the vaulted ceiling. “Oh,” she said, her voice sounding weak with desire. “Maxwell, these are really nice. I mean, from the street they look impressive, but —”
“You want it?” His hands in the pockets of his baggy jeans, he smirked. “If you’ll pay me what I spent to get into it, it would make my life easier.”
“Let me think about that,” Julia replied, a smile teasing her lips as she stepped down into his sunken front room, full of nothing but glass and stainless steel as far as the eye could see. “Live in a place like this, or send Amber to college? I think I’d rather place my bets on her being able to take care of me in my old age.”
“Smart woman,” he said, laughing and ushering her to a seat on his couch. “To what do I owe the pleasure, ma’am?” He didn’t bother sharing his shock that she’d called him, much less come for a visit after their recent spat.
“Like I said, I felt I had to clear the air with you, in more ways than one.” Julia sat with her hands folded in her lap, her hips on the edge of the couch. “Maxwell, I spent some time this week talking with Cassie about our falling-out.”
Maxwell tried to sound as dispassionate as he could. “Really.”
“Yes, and she helped me see that I needed to stop managing my image with you. I think one reason I was so defensive the other night is that I’ve been so twisted into knots about some things I really need to share with more people. And because I value your friendship —whether it ever becomes more than that —I want to be transparent with you about them.”
“Julia,” Maxwell said, scooting a little closer to her but swinging one knee up onto the couch to show he was respecting boundaries, “why don’t I address your concerns from the other night first? About whether I’ve ever dated black women before?” He was ready to go there now; when she had blatantly questioned whether he had ever dated another sister, he’d recoiled primarily at the “yes or no” nature of her question.
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