A Million Blessings

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A Million Blessings Page 10

by Angela Benson


  Craig closed his eyes. The little girl was right. He was poor, and in more ways than one.

  Blessed are the poor in spirit.

  He gave the little girl his best smile. “Yes, sweetheart. I’ll be there.”

  Chapter 2

  Winning the house in the divorce was a hollow victory for Brianna. She’d insisted they buy it even though Craig’s contract was ending. He’d been cautious, but Brianna had pushed and gotten her way. He owed her. And besides, he always got a contract. Until now, anyway.

  Now she’d been served with foreclosure papers—by the same messenger who’d served Craig his divorce papers—and her only way out of this was to convince Craig to stop playing crazy and rehab his knee. He’d been injured before, but this time he seemed frozen, as if he just didn’t have the will to recover. Her father said it was because she’d divorced him, ripped his heart out for the world to see. Well, she thought as she stepped into Soul Harvest Worship Center where she and Craig had grown up together, she was just getting started.

  She was late, but not too late to hear the burning—no, scathing—message from the pastor. If she’d been a weaker woman, she might have walked the aisle herself. Craig, who was seated next to his aunt with all eyes on him all service, looked as though he might jump up and limp down the aisle himself.

  As if.

  Brianna settled back into the plush balcony pew, sick of looking down on so many people whose lives hadn’t changed since high school. She sat back, but not before seeing Craig be the first one to respond to the pastor’s altar call. He’d walked stiffly without his cane, but Craig made it to the front. There, he did something that made Brianna cringe. He went down on one knee. His bad one.

  She’d heard his screams in therapy sessions when they’d bent his knee like that, but Craig looked as though he were somewhere else, somewhere bigger than his pain. Brianna made a mental note to encourage Craig in his church attendance. All this shouting and carrying on might be just the thing to help Craig get his mojo back. God knows he needed it. So did she.

  Craig’s aunt Theresa, always one for the dramatic, went down and took the microphone and stood over Craig. “I’ve prayed for you since you breathed your first. And God let me see you get in before I take my last. I’m mighty glad about it, too.”

  And she isn’t the only one. The whole church started clapping and rejoicing like crazy All except for one visitor, who wasn’t impressed.

  Just when Brianna decided she’d had enough and got up to leave, the pastor pointed her out to the crowd.

  “And this is Craig’s wife, Brianna Richards. She was once a junior usher here. You all know her daddy, too. Come on down, Brianna. Everyone wants to meet Craig’s wife.”

  “Ex-wife,” she corrected the pastor when someone shoved a microphone up to her mouth.

  There was silence for a moment, then a booming laughter that unnerved Brianna. She didn’t want to know what their laughter was supposed to mean, but she had a copy of the divorce decree in her purse, for times just like this.

  “Don’t mind us, Sister Richards. God has a sense of humor. He always gets the last laugh,” the pastor said before dismissing service. “May God bless you and shine His face upon you. You are dismissed.”

  As the women from the Ladies Hospitality Committee whisked her downstairs for a “light repast,” Brianna conceded. God might be getting the last laugh after all. For today, anyway. No doubt she wouldn’t be able to eat any of the food. Things weren’t that bad yet for her to start letting herself go.

  Once downstairs, Brianna held her breath as the women helped her to her chair, the seat next to Craig’s. The women and families who came to hug her and thank her for what they received from the Craig Richards Foundation kept Brianna from lighting into Craig about his Jesus act. It was a nice try, but she wasn’t buying it.

  Just as she was about to give Craig a piece of her mind and flee the scene, an older woman grabbed Briana’s hand and whispered in her ear.

  “My son wouldn’t be alive today if y’all hadn’t paid for that medicine. Look at him now. He’s about to graduate. First one to go to college. Give her a hug, Montez.”

  Moved by the moment, Brianna hugged the boy and leaned into Craig and laughed. Craig hugged her and continued talking to the mayor. She laced her fingers in his and squeezed. A few seats away, her father, the church janitor, beamed. For a moment, they were Craig and Brianna again, the power couple, the forever lovers.

  It wasn’t long before Brianna pulled away. Love was for fairy tales, and Brianna was done trying to play Cinderella. She had to get out of this town. And quick.

  Craig didn’t know what to make of Brianna. One minute she was screaming across the sanctuary, telling everyone she was his ex-wife, and the next minute she was reclined against him at the dinner table, laughing.

  He’d been holding steady, disregarding the strawberry scent of her hair, the intoxicating closeness of her body, but her laughter disarmed him completely. It had been years since she’d laughed like this, talking fast and loud with food still in her mouth. Money had made Brianna too cultured. Too careful.

  Against his better judgment and the advice of his attorney, Craig had reached out and grabbed Brianna’s hand. He’d braced himself for a slap, but he’d gotten a squeeze before Brianna caught herself and let go. She was good at that, letting go.

  You’re not too bad yourself.

  “Where’s she going?” Aunt Theresa asked when Brianna got up to make her escape from the church.

  Far away, I hope. “I have no idea,” I said, watching in horror as my aunt ran after Brianna. I didn’t move, and it wasn’t just because of my knee. I’d chased enough women to last a lifetime, especially this woman.

  “Aunt Tee! Let her go. I think Bri has somewhere to be—”

  Brianna stopped and walked back to the table with Craig’s aunt. “Actually, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I was supposed to stay with Asia, my friend, but I guess she must have gone out last night and hasn’t made it home—”

  “Uh-huh. Well, you just forget about that. You’re family. Come on home with us. Right, Craig?”

  Hmph. “Yeah. Right.”

  Brianna looked up at Craig with questions in her eyes as Aunt Theresa took her hand and led her out of the church. Having no answers, he looked away. It was bad enough that he’d had to come home, but the two of them under one roof again? He wasn’t so sure if even Aunt Theresa could handle that.

  She looked back. “Craig, you don’t have to—”

  He raised a hand, thankful for the ringing phone in his pocket.

  “Hello?”

  “I tried to talk to you after service, but you and Brianna were so busy playing king and queen in the basement that I couldn’t get to you.” Dante sounded agitated. Craig couldn’t blame him. He felt like an addict heading home with his worst drug, only Brianna was more addicting than anything Craig had ever tried.

  “About the king and queen thing. I never planned to—”

  “Whatever, man. Look, when I got home there was a message from the principal. I told him I doubted you’d take it, but I’ve been instructed to offer you a coaching job. It’d be you, me, and Butler. Tim Butler. Remember him?”

  Craig remembered. Butler had been his nemesis in high school, his second. They’d battled for first-string position all four years. He wasn’t about to battle him again for some high school coaching job.

  Face reality. This is it. The end for you.

  His friends from the NFL would never let him live it down. “I don’t know, man. I’m starting rehab tomorrow….”

  “So you’re still trying to get picked up? I thought you were over that.”

  Craig watched Brianna disappear out of the church on his aunt’s arm. “I thought so, too. I don’t mean to be ungrateful. I just don’t know. I’ll be glad to come and help while I’m here, though. I’m just not sure about something permanent.”

  “Let it go, man. That’s all I’m going to say. L
ater.”

  “Later.”

  Rehab was going well. Almost too well. With Brianna around, Craig had to do all he could to stay away. His days seemed like one long workout interspersed with lots of cold showers.

  After a particularly long lukewarm one, Craig wrapped a towel around his waist and started to shave. He’d been doing the caveman beard since arriving here, but it was time for that to go. He might not be playing ball anymore, but the scruffy look was played out. For Craig, anyway. Dante’s beard and locks looked quite professional on him.

  He mixed the soap in the mug his aunt had bought him when he turned thirteen and dabbed at his chin. He lifted the razor and started in. This was going to be a big job.

  “Let me help you with that.”

  Craig jerked and nicked his chin. The soap stung, but only for a second as Brianna took the razor from his hands and started shaving. She knew how to do it just right so that he didn’t get ingrown hairs. Even the barbers on the road couldn’t compare.

  Though his head was tilted up at the ceiling, Craig tried to meet her eyes. “I didn’t hear you come in. You don’t have to—I could go so you can have your privacy.”

  He could hear her breathing against him, slowly and evenly. She was nervous, too.

  “I wasn’t paying attention. I just sort of came on in, and you were so intent on shaving that you barely noticed me.”

  That was hard to believe. It was more like he was so busy thinking about her already that he hadn’t differentiated the real Brianna from the one who was always with him: in his dreams, in his heart. “Oh, I’m noticing you. Lift up that towel and you’ll see just how much.”

  She curved in, next to his mouth. “Craig…”

  He shrugged. “I’m just keeping it real. Some of my body doesn’t know we’re divorced.”

  Some of my mind doesn’t, either.

  Brianna made quick work of her ex-husband’s face. She reached down into a bag she kept under the sink. “I’ve got something that will be really good for your face. Hold on.”

  “Take your time,” Craig said, his eyes on the slip of Brianna’s back that refused to stay in the towel. He’d spent a lot of time curled around that back in his lifetime. It was hard to believe that he’d never do it again. Even harder to consider Brianna in the arms of someone else.

  She stood and shook her head. “This was a bad idea. Take this and put it on your—”

  “I think I’ve got an idea of my own,” Craig said, pulling Brianna against him. The state of Georgia might not consider them married, but to Craig, Brianna was still his wife. Till death do us part, he’d once said. Though many of their vows had been broken, that one stood out, even in the small bathroom clouded with steam.

  He lifted her into his arms and stepped toward the shower, dropping his towel on the way.

  “Wait…your knee…” Brianna said in a half whisper as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

  “Will be fine,” Craig answered, turning on the warm water with one hand. “Just like you.”

  The water rained down, drowning out the sounds of their reunion, washing away both their tears.

  Chapter 3

  He felt as if a car had run over his knee…and he’d never been happier. Brianna, however, was not happy. She was scared to death. And for that, and that alone, Craig was sorry.

  “About the other morning—”

  “Let’s not talk about it, okay? We got caught up in the moment. It happens. The trick is to make sure that it doesn’t happen again.”

  Okay, so she’s got tricks.

  “And how does that work exactly?” It was a rhetorical question. The Louis Vuitton bag on her bed said it all. He could see it and the rest of the things she was packing from where he stood in the hall.

  “By leaving. I never should have come here. We both know that. I just couldn’t say no to your aunt. She was like a mother to me. She still is. And now I’m afraid that the Richards family will be disappointed in me once again.”

  He wanted to reach for her, to touch her, but he didn’t. Once Brianna got like this, there was no stopping her. Not with human hands, anyway. Not that he could chase her, anyway. As it was, he was minutes away from his legs buckling beneath him. He wanted to give Brianna’s exit speech the proper attention, but the pain was almost as blinding as the pleasure that had caused it.

  He took a deep breath and started for his room with a bit of a limp.

  Brianna put down her purse. “Is it your knee? Oh no. I knew we shouldn’t have…Craig, I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

  Yes, head back to the bathroom. “No. I’ll be fine. You just do what you think you need to. Are you going to Asia’s? Your dad’s?”

  Brianna’s eyes narrowed. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m going back home. Atlanta.”

  “Atlanta?” That wasn’t Brianna’s home, or at least he hadn’t realized she thought of it that way. But what would he know? Most of the year, he just got off a plane and hugged his way through the crowd until he got to her.

  He stared at her, really looked at his ex-wife. She could be so powerful at times, but now she looked like a little girl afraid of being hurt, afraid of falling in love. She looked like his angel.

  “You don’t have to leave, you know.”

  She pulled out the vial of oil that she’d had in the bathroom and rubbed it across Craig’s cheeks, over his chin, his lips…” This is kissi oil. It’s Asian. It’ll make your skin feel wonderful.”

  Craig reached up and placed his hand over hers against his face. “My skin already feels wonderful, but a little kissi can’t hurt.” He started to kiss her, but—

  Let her go.

  Craig had been praying for God to speak to his heart, but this didn’t seem to be the best timing. And yet, he obeyed.

  “Good-bye, Brianna. Be safe.” It took all he had to keep from kissing her hand, but Craig let things drop once he’d given her a deep bow.

  She didn’t curtsy back. She made a run for it. All the way to her car.

  Craig didn’t laugh as he tumbled into his bed with pain shooting up both sides of his legs. Love was no laughing matter.

  “I still think you should be careful, Brianna. I mean, he’s a football player, for goodness sake. Just because he let you walk out of his house doesn’t mean it’s over. It’s never over with Craig. You know how he is.”

  Brianna shifted gears and turned back onto I-75. ATL or bust. She was headed back to Georgia, and as always, Asia was along for the ride. “That’s just it. I don’t know how he is. This Craig isn’t someone I know at all.”

  For that matter, I don’t know this Brianna.

  Brianna braked to yield to the flow of traffic and for a moment held her latte with both hands, even though it burned her palms. She needed to feel something, to know that north was still up and Starbucks was still hot as hell. One thing hadn’t changed—Asia wouldn’t shut up.

  “See, he has you fooled with all this Jesus bit, but I ain’t going for it. He was playing church when we came to move you out. Bible all up in the bed and foolishness. Like that means anything?”

  What did mean something was that Asia had scoped out Brianna’s bed hard enough to know what was in it. Brianna hadn’t even caught that little tidbit. Having her and the girls come with her to move Craig out was a mistake. She’d disrespected Craig in the worst way, Brianna realized. If he’d gone off on her like she’d expected, she would have felt like it was warranted, but he’d been so calm, like he’d seen it all coming. Like it was a movie and only he knew the ending. Well, he and Asia. She seemed to think she knew everything about their marriage. And Brianna was sick of it.

  “Look, let it go, okay? I don’t want to talk about Craig. He’s still my husband—”

  Asia threw up her hands like a kid on the playground. “Umm, not the last time I checked. He’s your ex-husband, hello? I heard how you played him at church. And remember how you schemed to get the papers delivered? Bam! You got served, b
aby! I wish I could have been there.”

  I bet you do.

  Brianna put her latte in the drink holder and ran a hand through her hair. She was glad that she hadn’t been there when Craig got the divorce papers. Craig had a thing about divorce. Even though both their parents had split up, he hadn’t wanted that for himself. They’d both agreed that they’d never split up, that they were forever. One day, Brianna woke up and realized just how long forever really is.

  Turn around, Bright Eyes…

  A song Craig used to sing to her popped into Brianna’s head. Turn around. Was it possible? Was it too late to admit that maybe she’d made a mistake? To tell Asia and everybody that she was mad and confused but still wanted Craig?

  “All those girls. The drinking. Everything he did to you. He had it coming. It’s a good thing he found God. He’s going to need Him.”

  Something in Brianna turned crisp and hard. Asia was right. Craig had this coming to him, all of it. She didn’t dare tell her friend about the money, though. Craig was rehabbing his knee. Brianna had called the trainer in Tampa. He said it was bad, but there was always a chance that some team might take him for one last season. She’d once been willing to be a starter wife, but those days were long gone. She’d paid her dues. She couldn’t be like Tenisha and move back to Tampa and be the wife of the local has-been…no matter how cute he was.

  That’s all Brianna needed, a chance. And when it came, she’d be there, waiting to get everything what was hers, to reclaim everything Craig had given away.

  Asia reached across Brianna for her latte. “Are you going to drink that?”

  Brianna shook her head. “No. I don’t feel so good all of a sudden. Take it.”

  With a shrug, Asia chugged down her friend’s drink without a thought. Craig wasn’t the only one who had changed. Asia would have never drunk after Brianna a year ago, but that was when she had a husband keeping her in style. These days, the most interesting man in Asia’s life was…Craig.

 

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