Amani swallowed his food hard. “Thanks, Dad. I mean, sometimes, when I’m chillin’ with the twins or at somebody’s house and they start arguing with their brothers and sisters and cousins, I feel jealous because all our family is, like, not here. When we went to Mama B’s, I felt like I belonged.”
“You do belong. Here. With us,” Sharla finally spoke.
“Yeah, but you guys are, like, old. And boring. No offense. And y’all hardly let me go anywhere, so it’s like, maybe if I had some family members, y’all would loosen up, like when we were in Peasner,” he explained. “I need peeps.”
Sharla dove into her waffle. Mark wondered why on earth his wife was taking this so personally. Amani was growing up. He needed more than his Mommy and Daddy.
“I hear you, ‘Mani.” Cutting the waffle with his right hand slowed the process and sent shockwaves through his arm, but Mark followed his therapist’s orders. Patience.
“What about your church friends? You’ve known them for more than half your life now,” Sharla groped.
“They’re cool.”
Mark stared at the side of Sharla’s face, but she didn’t look at him. He felt he owed it to both Amani and Bria to orchestrate a reunion; he wasn’t so sure he wanted Sharla there. Amani seemed to be handling the situation gracefully, but Sharla wasn’t ready.
Mark transitioned them into devotions by reading from Ephesians 4. He prayed for them all to find their truest sense of family in the body of Christ. Then he announced, “I told Miss Bria we’d come by the hospital this morning. You ready to meet her?”
“Cool.”
Sharla’s fork tinked loudly on her plate. “Today?”
“Yes. Today,” Mark said.
She wiped her mouth with her paper towel. “May I see you in private?” She didn’t wait for his answer, but stormed off to their bedroom.
“Put these dishes in the dishwasher and go ahead and get dressed,” Mark told his son. “We’ll be leaving in a little while.”
“Dad, go easy on her,” Amani pleaded for his mother. “She still thinks I’m, like, a baby.”
“Gotcha.”
Mark couldn’t have said it better. He was glad to know that Amani had some sense of how hard this must be on Sharla. Of course, he didn’t know about the bribery. Maybe it was best that he never knew about what shady lengths Sharla had gone to, to adopt him.
Unsure of exactly what Sharla would say, Mark asked God for the wisdom to interpret her heart, no matter what words came spilling out of her mouth. He closed the door behind him, then leaned his backside on the dresser.
Sharla sat on the bed, arms folded. “Why do we have to go today?”
“What’s wrong with today?”
“I need more time to…to process,” she pouted.
“Process what?”
“Everything! What if…what if she wants to visit him regularly? What if she wants to blackmail us? What if Amani…” Sharla slapped her forehead. “What if it’s already been planted in Amani’s heart to love her more? Why wouldn’t God let me have kids, too? What if God loves her more, too?”
And now Mark was hearing something he hadn’t heard in nearly a decade: this business about having babies. Mark had wanted a blood-related son as much as the next man, but given his relationship with his father, Mark knew there was no magic to having a natural kinship. Growing up, he’d had more of a relationship with the men at the barbershop than his own father. He had hated the fact that he was named after a man everyone in the neighborhood talked about negatively—for good reason, too.
God hadn’t given him a son by birth, but He had allowed them to raise Amani, and he’d given Mark a peace about the situation. To hear her rip the scab off that old wound angered him slightly. Until he got the answer to the prayer he’d prayed before entering the bedroom.
Rather than give Sharla a lecture about how it wasn’t about her, how she was going on forty years old and needed to get over the fact that she wouldn’t or couldn’t give birth and be thankful that they’d been able to adopt, seeing as so many people couldn’t even do that much, Mark listened.
He walked over to his wife and kneeled down, cupping her hands into his. “Baby, there is no way anyone can question your love for Amani. You’ve been a great mother to him and he knows it. It was wrong of you to bribe Bria’s mom. It was also wrong of Amani’s grandmother to accept money in lieu of her grandson. The whole deal was bad on both sides. Maybe her family will want to blackmail us. Maybe Bria will go to the authorities. I don’t know. But we can’t keep hiding behind our faults to protect ourselves. This isn’t about me or you or even Bria. It’s about Amani and what’s best for him.”
Her warm, wet tears dripped onto his hands as he looked up into her face. The makeup she’d so delicately applied ruined in the wake of emotions. “But how do we know that meeting Bria is what’s best for Amani?”
“How do we know it’s not? This whole saga started with her trying to reach out to him. After all that’s happened, all she’s been through, all we’ve been through, it would seem ridiculous not to let her meet him.”
Sharla dried her eyes with the back of her hand. “If you say so.”
“I say so. You trust me?”
She sniffed. “Yes.”
“You trust God?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s do this.”
Chapter 35
The thought of seeing Bria again after so many years seemed to split Sharla’s personality right down the middle. On one hand, she wanted to take Amani and run as far away from the female who’d been so busy partying that she put her precious son in danger. On the other, Amani was so obviously obsessed with meeting his birth family that denying him the opportunity could leave him hurt and embittered to the point where Sharla would probably end up losing him emotionally forever.
She’d told Mark that she trusted both him and God. She trusted them both, alright, especially since Mark had been teaching her things in God’s word that she’d never even considered before their family devotions time. But still…Amani was her baby. If he decided to make Bria his “real” mom, where would that leave Sharla?
Mark forged ahead, knocking on Bria’s hospital room door. “Hello?”
Sharla held her breath as her husband entered first, then Amani, then herself, relatively far behind. The room was filled with flowers and cards. Obviously, a lot of people cared about Bria. Where had they all been when it was time to adopt Amani? Were these new acquaintances? Co-workers who’d sent things to be politically correct? Attorneys who wanted to represent her?
Despite her pale skin, the darkness under her eyes, and scars crisscrossing her face, Bria exuded an optimistic air. Someone had also recently braided her hair in cornrows.
Stop it, Sharla. She knew better. For Amani’s sake, it was a good thing that people loved his birth mother. Maybe she’d gotten herself together and become a better person.
“Pastor?” a woman’s weak voice creaked.
“Yes, it’s me. And I brought someone to meet you.”
Startled at the sound of the hospital bed’s movement, Sharla grabbed the cross charm on her necklace. She zipped the charm across the silver links a few times, calming herself with the familiar rhythm.
Mark and Amani stepped to the side of Bria’s bed, within view. Sharla stayed several feet away from the foot. Amani inched closer to Bria’s head.
She reached for him, ran her hand down the length of his arm. “Hello, Amani.”
“Hi…um…” Amani stuttered.
The three laughed together. Watching them standing there—her husband and son with that woman—was almost like watching her family with someone else.
“Just call me Bria.” She laughed slightly. “I’m not much older than you.”
Amani gave an awkward grin and waved. “Hi, Bria.”
Mark stepped away, joining Sharla’s side. The quick squeeze around her shoulders reminded her to breathe.
Now that Amani and Bria were st
anding side by side, Sharla saw their close resemblance. With all the publicity Mark got because of the church and the remnants of Amani’s tell-tale port wine stain, it was only a matter of time before she found him.
Even from that distance, Sharla could see tears trickling down Bria’s face. Her insides melted as she witnessed the tenderness of Bria’s gaze into Amani’s eyes, how her fingertips gently outlined Amani’s strong features. For what it was worth, Sharla could appreciate what it must have felt like to finally meet the son she’d been thinking about all those years. There was no denying the love for Amani branded on Bria’s heart. Sharla could do nothing except respect it.
Maybe someday Sharla would meet the children she’d lost before they were ever born. If it were possible, she hoped their meeting would be that sweet.
“It’s so nice to see you again,” Bria whispered. “You’re so handsome.”
“Well, you know, uh, what can I say?” Amani joked in classic J.J. Evans mode.
Bria laughed herself into a coughing spell.
Mark rushed back to her side. “Are you okay? You need some water?”
“No,” she sputtered to a calm, “I’m fine. And he’s quite a character.”
“Definitely,” Mark agreed. “His sense of humor sometimes gives my wife a headache.”
What? Why on earth had Mark insisted on dragging her into the conversation? She was just fine being a fly on the wall.
“Yes. Sharla, I’m so glad you’re here.” Bria motioned for Sharla to come closer.
What do I say? What if she hates me? Does she know about the money? She fought the instinct to flee with every step toward the other side of Bria’s bed. “Hi.”
“Hello.”
Grasping Amani’s hand on the left and Sharla’s on the right, Bria breathed deeply. She looked up at the son she’d given birth to. “I’m so happy right now. I can see that your mom—” she squeezed Sharla’s hand,“—has done such a good job of raising you. I’m thankful. There’s no way I could have done better.”
Sharla squeezed back, letting the dam of her soul break. “Thank you. He’s a great son.” There was no doubt in Sharla’s mind—Bria had become a better person. Maybe the best person.
Mark moseyed up to Sharla’s side. “I’d like to think I had a little something to do with this, too.”
They all shared a laugh, which loosened the last of the tightness in Sharla’s chest. Until the room’s door swung open again.
“I know you didn’t come back here! And got the nerve to bring your wife with her triflin’ behind up in here!” Lisa raged.
The fury in her face reignited Sharla’s fears. Mark grabbed his wife’s free hand.
“Mama, stop it,” Bria intervened with a sharpness Sharla was surprised to hear coming from such a frail-looking body.
“I don’t think so.” Lisa marched herself right up to Sharla’s face.
Mark, of course, made himself a shield. “Let’s not do anything crazy.”
The alcohol on Lisa’s breath had already made its way around the room. “You got a lot of nerve, after what you did.”
“All she did was raise Amani. And raised him well, at that,” Bria said.
Lisa stopped cold, looking past the adults to Amani. “Oh my gooooooodness! My grandson!” Lisa flew around the hospital bed and swallowed Amani in a bear hug. “I’ve been looking for you all your life!” She wagged him back and forth, kissing his face with a ferocity that could only be explained by her apparent inebriation.
“Hello, ma’am,” Amani choked out, bewilderment written on his features.
“Mama, that’s enough, you’re cutting off his circulation,” Bria ordered.
“I ain’t got to let him go. This my grandson! They took him from us!” she spat back at Bria.
“That’s not true,” Bria argued.
“Oh, yes they did. Paid a pretty penny, too,” Lisa hinted.
The hair on Sharla’s arm stood on end. Was this woman about to air all their dirty laundry in front of Amani?
“Wonder who they paid it to?” Bria threatened.
Amani managed to respectfully free himself from Lisa’s grip. He rushed to stand by Sharla and Mark.
Lisa drew in closer to Bria. “Honey, you can’t side with these people. We suin’ them, remember?”
“There was never a we. Only you tryin’ to sue. But you won’t win. I’ll testify against you.”
Lisa gawked in disbelief. “But what about—”
“If I’d raised Amani, he’d have been on the streets, under the jail, or probably somewhere slingin’ with Boomie right now, wherever his crazy behind is. I hope they catch him, too.”
“They will,” Mark interjected.
Lisa looked him up and down and snarled, “You betta hope they do ‘cause he don’t appreciate you ridin’ around in the car with his girlfriend.”
“Ex-girlfriend,” from Bria. “And we weren’t riding around, I told you. I was asking about Amani.”
“Is that what this was all about?” Amani asked. “Me?”
“Yeah,” Mark said, slapping Amani on the back. “Everybody in this room cares about you.”
All except one, Sharla thought to herself.
“Cool.”
Once Lisa reluctantly sat her happy behind down, Mark, Sharla, and Amani were able to talk with Bria for a few more minutes before a nurse came in and said that visitors needed to leave the room.
“Certainly,” Mark answered for them all.
“Sorry,” Bria apologized. “Gotta go to the restroom. In a weird way.”
“No need to apologize,” Sharla offered. She couldn’t imagine what Bria was still going through. Of all the things she’d hated most when she went to visit her grandmother, before they put her in the nursing home, the worst was helping her go to the restroom, a humiliating experience for everyone involved.
“We’re going to let you rest,” Mark said. “We’ll be back to visit again.”
“Wonderful,” Bria gushed. “I should be moved to rehab soon.”
“Great. Wherever you are, we’ll find you,” Mark assured her.
“Good-bye, Miss Bria,” Amani said, still standing by his parents.
Bria smiled. “Such a respectful young man. Good-bye, Amani. It was good to meet you.”
“Same here.”
“Come give your grandmomma another hug,” Lisa demanded.
Though Sharla felt tempted to tell him he didn’t have to, Amani complied.
“We love you. You hear?” Lisa proclaimed.
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”
Sarcasm bubbled in Sharla’s throat. You didn’t love him more than you loved my five thousand dollars. Still, she bit her tongue.
Amani had to stop off at the restroom on the way out of the hospital. When he ducked into the passageway, Sharla sank into Mark’s arms.
“That was so hard,” she spoke into his shirt.
He kissed her forehead and said with a country twang, “You done good, Mamasita. Real good.”
As she sopped up the last seconds in Mark’s arms before Amani emerged from the restroom, Sharla reveled in this new, more attentive husband she’d encountered after the accident. Though she didn’t think God had caused the wreck, it was clear that He had used the wreck to bring them closer to each other. Closer to Him.
For quite some time, she’d been asking God to restore what they used to have—that giddy, wild-and-crazy kind of love they’d had when they first got married. Then she realized that the situation had deepened their love. Matured it. Whatever God was doing in Mark, she’d definitely been the beneficiary. She was even ready to be a part of it. Even if “being a part of it” meant supporting him more at New Vision. She would do it so long as this new Mark continued to take care of home first.
Oh, she could definitely be a first lady under those circumstances.
Chapter 36
Mark, Sharla, and Amani sat on the first pew of New Vision. Thus far, the service had been a refreshing display of
God’s gifts and callings on the lives of the young people at New Vision. Well, the ones who were left. A quick glance at the audience yielded roughly half the number of people who’d attended before the accident.
And yet, miraculously, they were in no worse shape financially. With Kit gone and many of the programs cut from the budget that Mark never really was keen about supporting anyway, New Vision had managed to stay in the black, despite the distraction.
Mark and his remaining advisors could only credit God for balancing their books. Even Marshall had remarked in their last meeting, “I’ve heard people testify that they lost jobs, lost income, but somehow their bills never missed a beat. Now I know what they mean. On paper, looking at the charts and graphs, the trends, I don’t know how He did it. I just know He did.”
As Jonathan took the pulpit for the first time to deliver the Sunday sermon, he recounted to the church how faithful God had been to the congregation. He thanked them all for their continued support. “But,” he noted, “it’s not me you’re supporting. It’s not Pastor Carter you’re supporting. It’s the work of the Lord, the work Jesus commanded us to continue—feed His sheep. Make disciples of men. Love one another. This is what you support.”
Mark nudged Sharla. “That’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout.”
Sharla smiled and nudged him back.
He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Are you flirting with me in church?”
She licked her lips slightly, rolled her eyes at him and returned her gaze to the pulpit.
Yes. She definitely was flirting with him, something she’d been doing a whole lot more lately, thanks be unto God.
“Before I begin, however, I would like to thank Pastor Carter for being an example of a man of God before me. Um…I’m pretty young.”
The congregation chuckled.
“But I’ve had an opportunity to work with several men of the cloth. I can say beyond the shadow of a doubt that Pastor Carter’s integrity, his convictions, and his heart for Jesus has impacted me in a way that he may never know. Pastor, thank you for your example. I’ve never been more honored to serve anyone,” Jonathan commended. “He’s not just a preacher, he’s a pastor. A shepherd under the Great Shepherd. We love you, Pastor Carter. I’d like to officially say welcome back.”
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