All This Love (Stoneworth Series Book 2)

by Michelle Stimpson

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Knox said, looking down at his feet. “What did you do for fun?”

  “Watch TV. Read. We used to play video games until someone broke into our apartment and stole our entertainment system.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep.” She shrugged. “That’s the breaks sometimes.”

  “Man. That’s terrible.”

  “You never had anything stolen from you?”

  “Not that I can remember.”

  “Must be nice.”

  They rounded the corner of the block. The park was in view. A mother with two pre-school age boys was pushing her children in the swings.

  Jada guessed that Knox had memories like these, too. With his father playing professional football, his mother probably hadn’t worked. He might have even had a nanny.

  The swing set in her neighborhood never seemed to be able to keep its chains. People cut them and used them for other purposes like tying up those pit bulls, creating car-towing devices, or whatever else they could rig with the sturdy, heavy-weight material. Nothing that could be detached, repurposed, and/or resold had a chance at their playground.

  “I’ll race you to the slide,” Knox challenged.

  “No. We are too old for a race,” Jada said. Then she pointed down at the sidewalk. “What’s that?”

  When Knox looked down, Jada took off running, giving herself enough of a head start to beat him. She sprinted the fifteen yards to the base of the slide and tagged it. “Beatcha!”

  “That’s because you cheated!” Knox objected with a hearty smile. “Plus I’m wearing professional shoes. You wait until I get my kicks on.”

  “I ran track in high school. Shoes might not help you much,” Jada bragged.

  “We’ll see.”

  Jada climbed the ladder and took a victory trip down the spiraled slide. “This is a nice park. All parts in place.”

  Knox met her at the landing. “Not like the hood, I’m guessing?”

  “Naaa. We had those metal slides. Mostly too hot or too cold outside to really enjoy them.”

  The mother who had been pushing her kids on the slide was walking away with them now, one holding each hand.

  “Guess we can have the swings now.” Jada chuckled to herself.

  “Works for me.”

  Jada sat in the hard, green seat, pushing off slightly.

  Knox sat but there was no room for his legs to fold. He could only rock slightly.

  But at least she and Knox would have something in common—being African-American in a white-dominated world. Jada commented, “Some things doesn’t change, no matter where you go.”

  “What?” Knox asked.

  “White people. Scared of black people.”

  “Maybe they’ve been here for a while. Maybe it’s time for the kids to go home and take baths and eat dinner.”

  Jada narrowed her eyes as she looked over. “The moment we got here?”

  “Stranger things have happened.”

  Jada threw her head back and swung higher. “Why are you such an idealist?”

  “Why are you such a pessimist?” he countered. “I don’t waste my time conjuring up negative motives for total strangers. Even if people’s actions do seem odd, I give them the benefit of the doubt. Saves me from a lot of stress. Frees my mind to focus on things that actually benefit me.”

  This man is impossible. Jada opened her mouth to explain the entire world to him, but didn’t know where to start. She truly felt sorry for him because, one day, he would see things as they were, not through the buffer of all his father’s money, his education, and his cushy upbringing. People like him ended up going crazy when they came up against a brick wall in their lives. Unlike her, they didn’t know how to overcome the impossible.

  “Knox. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s a dog-eat-dog world. You have to look out for yourself because no one else will. My mother taught me that I have two strikes against me—I’m a woman and I’m black. You might have triple-strikes against you because you’re a black man. You feel me?”

  “No,” Knox said. “Because my father taught me that if God is for me, He’s more than the whole world against me. So I don’t build my life around who may or may not like me. It’s irrelevant. I wouldn’t be where I am today if I’d walked into my vet-school classes worried about who was trying to stab me in the back. Couldn’t waste my energy on that. I don’t think you should, either. Especially not if it detracts from the simple joys in life, like going to a park.”

  Jada posed, “So if a police officer pulls you over in your nice, shiny SUV for no reason, you won’t be upset?”

  “That particular situation is not an if, it’s a when,” Knox said.

  Finally, we agree on something.

  “I’m not happy about it. I file a complaint, follow up with his supervisor. Long-term, I research my local candidates and vote accordingly, support organizations that have my best interest at heart. But in the moment that I’m parked on the road’s shoulder, no. I’m not afraid because no weapon formed against me prospers.”

  Knox’s words and the conviction in his stern expression were enough to make Jada take off swinging a little higher. She knew from lessons she’d attended at her grandmother’s church that Knox was quoting scriptures from the Bible. This idea of his, that what he’d learned in the Bible actually applied to his real life, was…new.

  Everything about Christian life was new, really, but what if? What if Christ died and left her the kind of life where she didn’t have to worry? Where what He said in His word trumped the world?

  This was too much to handle for now. Jada slowed her pace on the swing and wiggled her way around to another topic. “How was work today?”

  “Good. A few surgeries. Appointments. No euthanasia candidates. No trauma—at least not any for me. How was your day?”

  “It started off well. Had an interview, but I knew after the first few minutes that I wasn’t going to get the job.”

  “And you knew that because…” Knox led.

  “Because of this bandage on my head. Looks like I’ve been in a street fight. The interviewer spent more minutes looking at my forehead than my eyes. So insensitive. What if I’d had some kind of birthmark there? Would she have stared at it the whole time, too?”

  “Possibly,” Knox agreed. “You got any more interviews scheduled?”

  “No. Still filling out applications online. If I don’t find anything this week, I’m moving back to Memphis.”

  Knox reached her swing’s chains and slowed her to a halt. “Wait…moving back to Memphis?”

  “Yeah. I can’t stay here forever and mooch off my sister and my brother-in-law. Besides, I feel like Patrick and I are one centimeter from having an Ike-and-Tina-Turner moment.”

  Knox’s brows furrowed. “If he hits you, Jada…we’re going to have a serious problem.”

  She liked how he said we. “You’ve been worrying about me since the moment we met. Please stop.”

  Knox nodded. “It’s my pleasure to care for a damsel in distress.”

  “I am far from the princess trapped at the top of a castle. I prefer to rescue myself.”

  “Impossible,” Knox disagreed. “If you could rescue yourself, you never would have gotten trapped in the first place. Such is the story of mankind.”

  Jada’s swing stilled completely in Knox’s grasp. The heat of his gaze filled her heart.

  “So may I help you try to find a job? I’ve got friends. Connections in the city.”

  Jada peered at him. “Why are you so nice to me?”

  “Why not?”

  “What’s your motive?” she rephrased the question.

  “To be honest, I wasn’t sure at first. But now, I’m thinking it’s to show you that someone can be nice without a self-serving motive. Even if you have to move back to Memphis, at least you’ll go knowing that not everyone is dead-set on hurting you.”

  The very possibility that there was such goodness to be found
in people made Jada think of how different her mind had been when she’d gone to church with her co-worker. The preacher had talked about Jesus as though His whole purpose was to see people free. And she had believed on Him, His goodness. She had even started reading the Bible and thinking about life differently, until she’d run into that problem at her previous job, her evil boss, and life with Sam and the brother-in-law who was actually a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Those things—life—had stolen the new hope she’d found in Christ.

  But now, He seemed to be restoring it through Knox.

  “I appreciate your kindness,” Jada said with genuine gratitude.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Knox walked her back to Sam’s house. He waited inside for Jada to give him the signed car title.

  “Good riddance,” she said as she handed him the papers.

  “Better things coming, right?” he suggested.

  “If you say so.”

  “I always speak what I want to occur in my life.”

  “Fine,” Jada relented, “I’ll say it. One day, I’m going to have a better car than the one I’m losing now.”

  “That’s what I’m talkin’ about.” Knox winked. “But first, you need a job. With your permission, I’ll share your resume. I kept the one I used to retrieve your contact information.”

  “No problem. I’ll follow up on the resumes I’ve already submitted.”

  “Touch bases tomorrow?” he proposed.

  “Yeah.”

  And then he did something Jada wasn’t ready for. He kissed her on the cheek. “Have a good night.”

  “You, too.” She could barely speak.

  Lord, please don’t make me move back to Memphis.

  Chapter 10

  “Hey, Braxton,” Knox said. “Since you got that big school contract with Dad’s friend, you need some help? I know someone with accounting experience. She can help you count all the dough.”

  To himself, Knox sounded like a telemarketer. Pathetic. But if it meant Jada didn’t have to return to Memphis, he was willing to humiliate himself.

  “Man, I wish you had called last month. I just hired someone to do my books. Sorry. You tried Paige? She might have something open in her division.”

  Knox spent his entire lunch break calling friends and family who might be able to help Jada. With her following up and him putting out feelers, they should be able to come up with something soon.

  Lord, please don't let her move back to Memphis any time soon.

  He finished his workday at the office, then checked his phone again as he walked to his car. Paige had texted him about a possible position at her retail company, and his other cousin, Shiloh, pointed Knox to a link for an accounting opening for his employer.

  He called Jada to share the prospects. When she answered the phone, he immediately heard yelling in the background. “Jada?”

  “Yeah,” she said.

  “Umm...is now a good time?”

  “No. As you can hear, my sister and her husband are having a disagreement.”

  The words he heard signaled more than a disagreement. They were goin’ at it ferociously.

  “Shall I call you later, or do you need me to come get you?”

  “No. I’m fine. Just text me what you’d like to say. I gotta go. Bye.” She ended the call.

  Just listening to the chaos second-hand had jarred Knox. He couldn’t imagine what it was like to live in that environment day in and day out. What was worse, a baby lived there, too.

  Knox set his phone on the passenger’s seat of his car and prayed. “Lord, You know what’s happening in that household. You know the frustrations and issues Jada’s sister and brother-in-law are dealing with. I pray that You would show Yourself to them—together or separately, however You wish to do it. Bring peace for Your sake, Jada’s sake, and the child’s sake. And protect Jada’s mind and heart until You open another door for her. Be glorified as You show them all a different way. Your way. In Jesus’ name I pray, Amen.”

  ***

  Jada was too angry to be embarrassed when Knox called. Patrick had crossed the line. Some woman had called the house earlier and told Sam to “keep herself up” if she wanted to keep her man. Sam, of course, had interrupted Patrick’s “quiet time” in the man-cave.

  The argument flowed from the man-cave to the living room, then to the kitchen.

  “Who is she?”

  “Someone who knows more than you, obviously!” Patrick retorted.

  Jada dared not clamp on her headphones again. She needed to listen in case there was need for another intervention.

  Jada continued texting Knox, trying to sooth the anxiety that seeped through every word on the screen. She did her best to assure him that she was perfectly fine. They needed to focus on her job hunt, not her brother-in-law.

  After several rounds of texts, Knox focused on the topic at hand. They agreed to talk again soon.

  As the argument ensued in the kitchen, Patrick said he didn’t know who the woman was or how she’d gotten Sam’s number, but that whoever she was had been right—Sam did need to step up her appearance if she wanted to prevent him from fooling around.

  “Have you lost your mind?” Sam screamed.

  Patrick didn’t answer.

  Sam’s voice went missing.

  All that could be heard was the tick-tock of the baby’s automatic swing chair.

  Jada’s heart thudded.

  She heard glass shatter and knew something was happening. Remembering her last conversation with Sam about Patrick’s particular form of abuse and how police disregarded the reports, Jada quickly grabbed her cell phone. She turned on the camera and tucked it into her plaid shirt pocket, lens facing outward.

  Accompanied by a digital witness, Jada threw the door of her bedroom open and rushed to help her sister. Though she was approaching from the side, she could clearly see that Patrick had Sam’s neck in the crook of his elbow. Sam couldn’t breathe.

  Jada grabbed a bar stool and slammed it against Patrick’s back. He and Sam fell forward onto the kitchen table.

  Sam gasped for air.

  Patrick groaned, rubbing his side. “You crazy?”

  “Takes one to know one,” Jada spewed. She was still holding the chair in case he tried to attack.

  “You’re going down today. Assault.”

  “I was defending my sister.”

  “You have no proof.”

  “That’s what you think,” Jada said. “I got it all on video.” She tapped her pocket.

  Sam, who was sitting on the floor, looked up at Jada with an increased fear.

  Patrick gritted his teeth and lunged at Jada, slinging the chair out of her grasp. He ripped the phone from her pocket, slammed it on the floor, and reduced it to pieces with three quick stomps.

  “Where’s your proof now, ma’am?”

  Jada bluffed. “I have automatic back-up to the cloud.” She pointed at the ceiling.

  “It doesn’t work that fast,” Patrick said.

  “You wanna bet?” Jada threatened.

  “Out!” he spat. “Out. Now. And don’t come back. Ever!” His nose flared as he fumed.

  Though she’d played it off well, Jada was still in shock at seeing her phone destroyed. She was so angry, she could cry. She wouldn’t give Patrick the satisfaction, however.

  Sam stood. Took Jada by the arm. “Let’s go.”

  Jada tried to jerk away, but Sam held on tighter and said into Jada’s ear. “You need to be outside. In public view. Now.”

  Déjà vu. Jada stepped outside the house again. Kicked out for the second time in three days. No, this is worse than Déjà vu. She had only a purse because Sam had insisted they get out before Patrick “really blows up.”

  Sam unlocked her car doors. Jada entered the passenger’s side. Sam drove off, then stopped around the corner from her house. She put the car in park. “Jada,” she panted, “I’ve never seen Patrick so angry in all my life.”

  “I don’t care.
”

  “I had to get you out of there. I didn’t know what he might do to you,” she squeaked as a tear fell down her brown cheek. “I gotta go back, though. I wouldn’t dare leave the baby with him for long.”

  “Right. Don’t worry about me. You’re the one who’s married to him. Living with him. Raising a child with him. What are you going to do? It’s only a matter of time before things get worse. You have to leave,” Jada pleaded with her only sister.

  “We’re fine. I just have to…try not to make him so mad.” She bore the onus for Patrick’s actions. “I shouldn’t have asked him about the woman.”

  “You had every right to know about the woman. He had no right to physically attack you.”

  “It wasn’t an attack, Jada. You’re exaggerating. And he only did it to calm me down.”

  Jada felt like slapping her sister silly. Who in her right mind thinks like this? Maybe that was the problem. Perhaps Sam wasn’t in her right mind. Maybe the abuse had warped her sense of herself and reality as a whole.

  Sam sniffed. Dried her face. “You think maybe you can go to Knox’s house?”

  “No. I don't know where he lives. And I don’t have his cell number, thanks to Patrick.”

  “I’ll get you another phone tomorrow. You can come back to the house tomorrow, too. Around eleven, after Patrick leaves for work. But tonight…we need a plan B.”

  The abrupt switch in Sam’s tone from panicked to cool and collected made Jada wonder all the more if her sister was sane. She was talking as though nothing life-threatening or traumatic had just happened. “Sam, we don’t even have a Plan A. How are you on to Plan B already? Wake up! Stop acting like everything’s okay!”

  Sam turned her head from Jada and looked out the window.

  Jada realized the last thing her sister needed was someone else yelling at her, but how else could she get it through her sister’s head that Patrick was a wife-beater? Even though his fist never made contact with her face, he was abusive. And yet, he’d somehow brainwashed her into believing that he wasn’t. Jada had to give him his due. He was a master manipulator.