How or if that sermon was an answer to his prayer about Jada was yet to be seen.
Chapter 8
One good thing about working for a major chain of pet clinics was the fact that Mayfield specialized in household pets. Time in veterinary school had prepared Knox for operating on animals from turtles to horses, but the contract at Mayfield meant he didn’t have to remember everything at once.
This morning had been routine—spays and neuters followed by check-us, vaccinations, and other appointments. The newest vets handled the walk-ins. Knox had been at Mayfield for two years. He was no longer the rookie now that they’d hired Dr. Fritz Lewis six months ago. Knox had to admit, though, that he missed working with the walk-ins. Many were people who didn’t routinely take their animals to see vets; they only brought them in when there was a problem. The problem was often pretty far gone, which presented special challenges. That’s what Knox missed—the challenges.
Every once in a while, the routine surgeries posed threw a curve ball. Knox was often amazed at how God not only gave every human being a unique thumbprint, but He also made each animal all its own as well; no two exactly alike.
Surgery time provided an opportunity for Knox to meditate not only on the marvel of God’s creation, but on the issues in his life. The operating room was quiet. The animal was asleep. His assistant was monitoring vital signs and Knox preferred to keep conversation to a minimum. Before coming to work, Knox had spent half an hour or so in prayer and reading scriptures for wisdom and guidance about Jada. Is she safe at her sister’s house? Is she someone I can trust? Do I reach out to her again? If so, how? He had not exchanged numbers with her. The only way he knew to get in contact with her was to return to her sister’s house.
Knox finally got an opportunity to take a breather when the office closed for lunch. He scrubbed his hands clean and rested for a minute in the breakroom. He took a moment to text his friend, Allen, about Jada’s car: A—don’t fix it. She said let it go. What I owe you?
Knox bought a pack of peanuts from the vending machine and drank one of the bottled waters available to all employees in the refrigerator.
“How’s it going?” Dr. Lewis asked as he sat for a moment as his food warmed in the microwave.
“Pretty good. How are you?”
“Tired. Long weekend.”
“Same here,” Knox agreed.
Fritz smirked. “Hot date?”
“No. She was nice-looking, but I wouldn’t call it a date.”
Fritz smacked Knox on the back. “Oh! A one-nighter! I didn’t think you had it in you.”
The microwave beeped. Fritz got his food and rejoined Knox at the table.
Knox shook his head. “Naaaa. I’m not the one.” This conversation was beginning to annoy Knox.
Dr. Fritz Lewis was in his mid-twenties. Blonde-hair and blue eyes. Worked out. The kind of guy Knox imagined the ladies swooned over in the club, especially when he mentioned that he was a doctor, which was probably the first sentence out of his mouth.
“Should have known. Church boy,” Fritz teased.
“Through and through. You should come with me—first Saturdays we have a men’s fellowship. Inspiration, motivation. Networking.”
“Networking?”
“Yeah.” Knox knew that the prospect of personal advancement would catch Fritz’s attention. But if Fritz heard the life-changing gospel of Jesus Christ, he just might leave the fellowship with more than he’d bargained for.
“I’ll think about it.” Fritz leaned in. “Mayfield might be merging with Cox & Leimberg soon.”
“Where’d you hear that?”
“Buried in a report online. A rumor, for now.”
“Mmm.” Knox wasn’t alarmed. A merger would only mean more customers, greater job stability.
“Mergers are murder. New guys coming in, pushing the old guys out. Changing the system. Rocking the boat. We’ll have to fight to keep our jobs.”
Knox noted the glint of fear in Fritz’s eyes. He felt sorry for people like Fritz who didn’t have the assurance of a God whose plans for them were good, who worked all things for their good. If only Fritz knew.
As Fritz went on and on about how terrible things could get for their company and for the world in general, Knox felt the Holy Spirit pricking him inside. He prayed silently, asking the Lord for the right words to minister to his younger co-worker. He doubted there would be a full-blown conversion in the breakroom, but he didn’t want to miss this opportunity to plant a seed or water a seed that, perhaps, another believer had planted previously.
When there was a break in Fritz’s monologue, Knox said, “You’re right, bro. This world is crazy. We can’t control the circumstances. That’s why we need an inner peace, you know?”
Fritz exhaled. Then he chuckled at Knox. “You’re not the typical preacher’s kid. They were always the ones sneaking girls and weed into the woods at summer church camps.”
Knox laughed. “Can’t say I wasn’t tempted to do those things—I’m not perfect. I’ve been blessed to see, at an early age, that the right way is usually the path that’ll end up costing you less, with a better outcome in the end. Why complicate life, you know what I’m sayin’?”
His co-worker’s eyes were fixed on his bowl of spaghetti, but Knox knew that Fritz was listening. He added, “The truth will set you free, doc.”
Fritz chewed. “That’s what they say.” He held up his water bottle for a toast with Knox. “Amen.”
Knox followed suit, tapping the side of his bottle against Fritz’s. “Amen.”
“Hey—you think the Cowboys have a chance this year?” Fritz asked.
Knox allowed the flow of the conversation to change courses. He was confident that his watering had been successful and entrusted the real growth to God.
“Only if the key players stay healthy,” Knox said.
The two men enjoyed a spirited debate about which was the best team in the NFC East, followed by good-humored political banter.
Knox’s phone buzzed with a text from Allen: OK. You want to come get the stuff from her car? He smiled to himself as he typed: Yes. I’ll be there around 4.
He could hardly wait for his last scheduled appointment at 3:30. Joo-joo, a temperamental tabby, had gotten into a fight with a neighbor’s cat a week earlier, and a tiny bite-wound had gotten infected. Knox quickly cleaned and covered the wound. He wrote a prescription for an antibiotic.
Joo-joo’s happy owner whisked the cat away, and Knox whisked himself over to Allen’s garage.
The shed smelled of oil and metal. Sixties R&B crackled from an old radio sitting atop a case of tools. Two men were working under cars, while a third man was behind the hood of another. Knox greeted them and walked on to the office, where he knew he’d find Allen.
His shirt was stained black in two spots, despite the fact that Allen had recently decided to leave the hard work to his employees. Allen had been working on cars since he and Knox were eleven years old. His repair and maintenance shop was the only one Knox trusted with his own vehicles.
“’Sup?” Knox gave Allen the bro-shake.
“It’s all on you,” Allen said jovially. He sat behind his desk again. “Man, that car was in terrible shape. It’s a miracle it was still running. I’ve never seen so much duct tape holding a vehicle together.”
“She did say she was broke,” Knox said.
“She wasn’t lying,” Allen attested. “Here.” He gave Knox a large manila envelope. “She had a lot of papers in the trunk. Looked important. Thought she might want them back.”
Knox grasped the package. “Thanks.”
“Does she have the title?”
“I don’t know. Would it help if she signed it over?”
“Yeah. Otherwise, I’ll have to file a mechanic’s lien and send her notices before I can scrap it, legally.”
“Got it. I’ll get the title from her.” Knox could have done a cartwheel. Now he had a valid reason to contact Jada again.
<
br /> “Great. Saves me trouble. Whose car is it, anyway? Rainey’s?”
“No. She’s a woman I met recently.”
Allen crossed his arms and tilted back in his chair. “You’re finally getting over Dominique, huh?”
“Man, I been past that chick,” Knox defended himself.
“Good thing.” Allen straightened his chair. “She brings her car in here sometimes. Wearing tight dresses. Flirting with my employees. Trying to keep tabs on you.”
“On me?”
“Yeah. I had another black Jeep with tan, leather interior in here the last time she brought in her car for an oil change. She runs into my office, asking me if it’s yours. I told her I didn’t know whose it was. I wasn’t here when the owner dropped it off. So she asks me to look up the bill and I told her to get out. So then she waits across the street. For three hours! To see if it was you.”
Knox muttered, “Wow.” Dominique must really be having some trouble in her marriage.
“Anyway, I’m glad she’s out of your life,” Allen said. “Keep movin’ until you find the right one.”
“Word,” Knox said. “You sure I don’t owe you anything?”
“We’re straight. If I get the title. I’m sure I can break even.”
Knox gave Allen some dap. “Thanks, man. I’ll talk to you later.”
Back in his car, Knox tore through the envelope’s seal and searched for something bearing Jada’s contact information. He found the treasure easily. Front and center on her resume were her current mailing address, phone number, and email address.
Knox snooped a bit more.
Jada Moniece Jones. Graduate of Southwest Tennessee Community College– Accounting. She’d finished high school a few years after him, which he figured meant she was around twenty-eight. She had a solid work history since earning her associate’s degree with a strong GPA.
She’s smart. Somehow, that made him happy. If she could do well at a smaller college, she had what it took to earn a 4-year degree. A master’s. A doctorate. He wondered why she hadn’t pursued further education. He thought of his sister, Rainey, and how she’d made the choice to go all-in with her degrees. He wanted that for Jada, a sense of accomplishment that could never be taken away.
He called the number listed on the resume and sighed with relief when her familiar voice answered, “Hello?”
“Hello, Jada. This is Knox Stoneworth. How are you?”
“I’m…I’m fine. How are you?”
He could hear the shock and the smile in her voice. “Listen, my friend who towed your car said you’d left some important paperwork in your car. I hope you don’t mind that I got your number from your belongings.”
“No, no problem at all. I’m glad you called.”
“Me, too,” Knox said.
The sweet silence between them confirmed his hope that Jada also wanted to keep in touch.
Knox said, “My friend who towed your car is more than happy to get rid of it. But he needs the title to make things easier.”
“No problem. I have it here. You’re welcome to come by.”
“Perfect. How about an hour from now?”
“I look forward to it, Knox.”
“Same here.”
Chapter 9
Jada’s chest bubbled with excitement. She was seeing Knox Stoneworth again in ten minutes. “How do I look?” she asked Sam.
Sam stood behind Jada and glanced in the full-length mirror on the back of Jada’s closet. Together, they surveyed Jada’s ensemble—stone-washed blue jeans, a bulky pink and black long-sleeved, crew-necked Nike shirt, and a pair of pink Crocks.
“This is not a particularly attractive outfit,” Sam noted as she propped the baby up on her hip.
“I know, but it’s all I have outside of professional clothes. It’s not like I’ve been all up in the club.”
“You gotta at least put on a necklace. And these earrings are microscopic, like you’re a kindergartner who just got her ears pierced.”
Jada laughed with her sister.
“I’m going to get you a different shirt.”
Sam left the room. Jada removed the shirt she was wearing and waited for her sister’s return. The house was silent. This was one of the better days in her sister’s household. Mondays and Tuesdays were Patrick’s off days. He usually slept late, which meant a morning of peace and quiet. Then he’d get up and eat whatever Jada prepared and lock himself in his man-cave. There were no arguments. No put-downs.
Come to think of it, Patrick hadn’t even made any snide comments about the baked chicken or the mashed potatoes Jada cooked. Maybe the Lord was involving Himself already.
Sam returned with a gray V-cut shirt and a white tank to go underneath. “This will at least hint at your curves.”
“I don’t want him to be turned on by my curves,” Jada fussed. “For once, I want a man to like me for me.” She pulled the tight shirt over her head nonetheless.
“But your curves are a part of you.” Sam poked out her lips. “I know if I had a body like yours, you couldn’t tell me nothin’.
“And it wouldn’t hurt if you tightened up that interview suit of yours. People like attractiveness in an employee.”
“You’ve gone too far now, Sam. I worked hard to earn my degree. My future employer needs to look at my resume, not my behind.”
“Suit yourself.”
Sam gave Jada a pair of blinged-out, loopy earrings and a silver necklace with a heart-shaped pendant. She pushed a swath of lipstick onto Jada’s lips. She swiveled Jada toward the mirror again. “Much better. Despite the big band-aid on your head.”
Now that she was a little more snazzy, Jada was ready to see Knox again. She kissed the baby for good measure. His sweet cheeks and lotion-scent made Jada feel alive all the more.
The doorbell rang. “That’s him!” Jada announced unnecessarily. She was more nervous than she should be. More nervous than she had ever been about seeing a guy.
“I’ll let him in. You stay here so you can make an entrance,” Sam ordered.
“What? That’s crazy. This is not prom night,” Jada quipped.
“Look. You want to ‘wow’ him or what?”
“I want to ‘hello’ him, not make him drool.”
“Like I said, your body is a wow-factor in and of itself. You need to dress it up. Make it pop. The way to a man’s heart is through his eyes, little sister. Once you’ve got his attention, your conversation, your personality takes it from there.”
“If you say so,” Jada agreed as Sam left the room.
As Jada waited for her sister’s cue, she wondered if she should be taking relationship advice from Sam. If this was the norm—capturing a man’s attention with your body first, making a grand entrance for a small meeting—what other games were women playing in order to catch a man who turned out to be not even worth the bait?
Jada snatched off the tight shirt and put back on her oversized top. She didn’t want to be anything but herself when she saw Knox again. He had seen her at her worst and still liked what he saw. Jada saw no need to show him what he wasn’t going to get on a regular basis…if they had a future together.
Jada walked out of her bedroom and interrupted Sam’s light, stalling conversation with Knox in the foyer.
Sam’s eyes questioned Jada as she took in the reversal of appearance.
Jada ignored her sister and focused on Knox, who was beautiful enough for three or four people put together. “Hi!”
Knox’s face brightened. “Hello. You look great.”
Jada smirked at Sam. “Thank you.”
“It’s the earrings,” Sam said.
Jada slapped her sister’s arm. “Anyway.”
She and Knox shared a loose hug. Even with an appropriate space between them, she could feel the raised muscles in his arms and chest. She thanked God for making men so very different from women and also prayed that she wouldn’t become so engrossed in his looks that she lost all sense.
“Here a
re your personal items.” He gave her the large envelope.
“Thank you.” Jada set them on a half-table against the wall.
Sunlight streamed through the front door’s stained glass, beckoning Jada toward fresh air. “You want to walk to the park?”
“Sure,” Knox said.
She turned to her sister again. “See ya later.”
“You two behave yourselves,” Sam chided.
“Yes, ma’am,” Knox played along.
Once outside the house, they strolled down the sidewalk, with Jada leading the way up the street and toward the community playground.
“How was church yesterday?” she asked him.
“Amazing. My father is the pastor but my parents are out of town, so we had a guest preacher. He blew our minds by comparing common beliefs with Greek myths. Sent me to my knees for sure.”
“Sounds interesting,” Jada said. “Any scriptures you can share?”
“Definitely. I can text them to you.”
“I’d appreciate it. Thank you.”
Two little girls on bicycles breezed past, taunting each other in high shrills. “You can’t beat me!”
“Yes, I can!” The younger one pedaled faster, trying to catch up.
Knox laughed. “Those were the days, huh? Racing down the street on bicycles, not a care in the world.”
Jada shook her head. “Ummm…no. I don’t have those memories, either.” Once again, the fact that they had grown up in two different worlds reared its ugly head.
“You never rode a bicycle?”
“No. My mom didn’t get us bikes.”
“Oh.”
Jada was glad he didn’t say anything insensitive. For his politeness, she’d give him the hood explanation. “She had her reasons. First of all, we lived on the third floor of an apartment complex. Lugging those bikes up and down stairs would have been a pain, and there’s no such thing as leaving your toys outside in the hood. Secondly, there were too many crazy dogs in the neighborhood. A pit bull on a chain will just about break its neck to chase a kid who seems like she’s running. Third, we didn’t know our neighbors like that. People move in and out of low-income areas. She didn’t feel safe letting me and my sister roam the streets on our bicycles with people she didn’t know. So, no. We didn’t have bicycles.”
All This Love (Stoneworth Series Book 2) Page 6