Cherished

by Kim Cash Tate

  Aaron gave him a look. “You know I’ve got mad love for you, but me and thousands of Christians? Not happening. Keep praying for me.”

  “I’m on it. One day . . .” He popped a fry into his mouth. “What brought you back from LA, anyway?”

  “Cedric got married yesterday.”

  Brian swallowed hard. “Cedric? London?”

  “Yeah, if you can believe it. Mr. Ladies’ Man.” Aaron dipped his own fry into a little cup of ketchup. “Seems really happy too. My mom and his mom are still close.” He lifted his drink. “And, uh, I was wondering . . . has the statute of limitations run out on the no-dating-former-girlfriends-of-friends law? ’Cause your girl was there, looking finer than ever. I’m ready to make a move.”

  Brian’s heart rate sped to a million beats a minute. “Did my name come up?”

  “No. I learned my lesson years ago when I ran into her and asked if she’d talked to you. You never told me what happened, but clearly it didn’t end on the positive.”

  Brian stared into the distance, past the faces of customers in the restaurant, seeing only one face in his mind. “I wonder if she’s still in town.” He only realized he’d spoken aloud when Aaron answered.

  “Not sure. Why?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve tried to reach her over the years, but I can never get a hold of her. Knowing she might be here in St. Louis . . .” He looked at Aaron. “Do you have her number?”

  “No, but wouldn’t take much to get it.”

  Brian looked hopeful.

  Aaron looked skeptical. “I’m asking again. Why? I don’t think she wants to hear from you. You’ll only upset her.”

  Brian sighed. Aaron was right. She’d definitely be upset. But that’s why he wanted to talk to her, to ask her forgiveness. He hated the way things had ended between them. But maybe she’d be better off if he left her alone.

  It saddened him, the thought that they might never speak again, that he’d never be able to apologize. But deep down, the sadness stemmed from more than that. He harbored the remotest hope that she might actually forgive him one day . . . that maybe they could even find their way back to a friendship . . . a ludicrous notion at best. But the truth was, he missed her still.

  With all the uncertainty about his future, there was one thing about which he was painfully certain. He wouldn’t be sharing it with Kelli.

  three

  KELLI COULD FEEL HERSELF BEING PULLED FROM A deep sleep, but mind and body fought hard to hold tight. She felt like a deadweight, unable to move, muscles pleading for more time to rest and regenerate. She vaguely wondered what she’d done to aggravate them—when she found herself swatting something away from her face. She'd seen her share of critters in Texas, but what in the world was—?

  She jerked upward, opening her eyes—to find Cyd’s dog, Reese, pawing and licking her in the face. She blinked, gaining her bearings. She wasn’t in Texas anymore.

  “Hey, girl,” she said, stroking the wavy-haired little dog. “Is this a special welcome or are you planning to do this every morning?”

  Kelli checked the clock. Seven twenty. Sunlight was streaking through the mini-blinds. Felt weird to be waking up in Clayton. Although Kelli had grown up in the city of St. Louis, she’d gone to Clayton High as part of the school district’s voluntary desegregation program. But she’d never imagined herself or anyone she knew living here. Seemed like another world.

  She yawned, then suddenly reached for her cell phone, remembering she was supposed to call Miles last evening. The screen showed two texts and as many missed calls. She tapped his number, and he answered right away.

  “What are you doing up so early? You must be on the golf course.”

  “Headed there. Dad and I decided to play a round.” His voice— a little deep, a little Texas Southern—always drew her in. “So you made it safely? I thought you were gonna call.”

  “I was planning to, but I was so tired I must’ve fallen asleep.” She smiled into the phone. “Glad to know you care.”

  “You already knew that.”

  She let his words warm her inside.

  “I was hoping you’d call and say you changed your mind.” He paused as if there was still hope. “I’m still not excited about you moving so far. It’s already been forever since I’ve seen you. No telling how long we’ll have to wait now.”

  “Forever, Miles? You were in Austin three weeks ago.”

  “Three weeks away from you is forever.” His phone shifted, and Kelli heard his car door shut as he greeted his dad. He spoke back into the phone. “I thought we were working on getting closer, not farther apart.”

  “I know. I wish something had opened up in Dallas. I think I blanketed the whole town with résumés.”

  “Something might open up yet,” he said. “I’m glad you get some time with your family, but I’m hoping St. Louis is temporary. I’m looking forward to us living in the same city again.”

  Seemed Miles had stepped up talk of the future once he learned Kelli was moving.

  “Well, they say if you’ve got a job, it’s easier to find a job. If I gain some experience here, maybe somebody in Dallas will be willing to give me a shot.”

  “I can be patient about the job part but not the seeing you part. Let’s make plans soon, either here or St. Louis. As long as we’re together.”

  “Reese, where are you?” a voice called from downstairs.

  Kelli covered the phone. “She’s in here, Cyd!”

  “I’ll let you go,” Miles said. “Dad’s waiting for me. Call you tonight?”

  She smiled. “You better.”

  Kelli clicked off as Cyd entered the room in her silk robe. “Oh no.” She bent over, patting her thigh. “Reese, come.”

  The dark chocolate dog rolled over on her back, showing her patches of tan underneath, paws dangling in complete comfort as Kelli continued to stroke her.

  “I’m totally enabling her disobedience but she’s too cute.”

  Cyd gave Reese the eye. “She woke you up, didn’t she? I’m sorry. She’s normally in our room, but I guess she wanted to check out her new playmate down the hall.”

  “It’s fine,” Kelli said, legs still under the covers. She scratched behind Reese’s ears. “Better be glad you’re adorable.” A yawn escaped. “What time do y’all leave for church?”

  “I’m not sure today,” Cyd said. “We normally go to the nine o’clock, but with the road trip yesterday, eleven thirty’s looking pretty good. Cedric’s still asleep.” Cyd paused. “Don’t feel like you have to come with us. I know you’re tired.”

  Kelli’s bones issued a hearty amen. She could easily rest till noon. But before she could give it more thought, they heard slow steps moving down the hall, the hardwood creaking underneath. Cedric appeared, wearing wrinkled athletic shorts, a T-shirt, and a slouch that said he wanted back in bed. “Howdy.”

  Kelli exchanged an amused glance with Cyd. “You look terrible.”

  “I want to know one thing.” Sleep coated Cedric’s voice. “Whose idea was it to leave Austin in the middle of the night, drive fourteen hours straight, then unload a moving van?”

  “Yours,” Kelli and Cyd said.

  And Cyd added, “While pumping your fist in the air and saying, ‘Let’s do this!’”

  “And if I remember correctly,” Kelli said, “you called Lindell a chump for suggesting we leave later and find a halfway point to stop overnight.”

  “I must’ve lost my mind.” Cedric ambled over and collapsed across the foot of her bed. “I thought I was still your age.”

  Reese traded Kelli for Cedric, pouncing on him immediately.

  Cyd sat beside him on the bed, massaging his back. “Poor baby. I’ll get you some ibuprofen. You and Kelli should go back to bed. I wish I could. I got up to let Reese out, and now I’m wide awake.”

  Cedric looked at Kelli. “How are you feeling?”

  “A little sore. Not too bad. You and Lindell did most of the heavy lifting.” She smiled
. “I kinda like having my brothers around again. Y’all are handy.”

  Cedric cocked his head, as if considering. “I kinda like having you around too.”

  “I know I do,” Cyd said. “I’m so glad you decided to come.”

  “Thanks, Cyd, but I was thinking . . .” Kelli switched to lotus position. “You’ve got to be a tad overwhelmed. All these years, you’ve had this house to yourself. Then you got married a month ago, and Cedric moved in. And now, here I come.”

  “Are you kidding?” Cyd asked. “I bought this house eight years ago hoping it’d be filled with other bodies.” Clayton was a perfect location for her, since she was a professor at Washington University. “I just hate that it took so long. Come here.” Cyd leaned across the bed, and Kelli met her halfway for a hug. “I really want you to consider this your home, for as long as you want to stay.”

  Kelli’s eyes misted. “Okay.” She’d gone back and forth about this move, especially when things progressed faster than anticipated. She’d thought it would take weeks to sublease her apartment— time to ponder further, time to change her mind. But an occupant surfaced quickly, and next thing she knew, all her belongings were on a highway headed north . . . along with her and her mixed feelings. But one thing was sure. She loved being here with Cyd and Cedric . . . and she loved that Stephanie and Lindell were only minutes away. Suddenly she giggled.

  “What?” Cyd and Cedric asked.

  “You might need some Spanx,” Kelli said, imitating Stephanie’s voice. “What a nut! I don’t think I’ve laughed that hard in years.”

  “Ah, yes,” Cyd said. “Only the privileged few get to experience Stephanie in all her nuttiness over the course of several hours.”

  The three women had taken turns driving Kelli’s car from Austin, while the guys drove Cedric’s with the moving trailer attached.

  Kelli laughed again, remembering. “If you want to learn to cook gourmet meals for your husband but don’t want to learn your way around the gym . . . and you want to pretend you still wear the same size, you might need some Spanx.”

  Cyd was laughing now. “If you’re bound and determined to keep wiggling your rear end into those skinny jeans—”

  “—even if it kills you—”

  “—you might need some Spanx,” they finished together.

  “Oh, man,” Kelli said, “remember this one? ‘If you don’t want everybody and their momma to see your sea billows roll . . .’”

  Cedric had been eyeing the two of them with creased brow. “And here I thought you girls were having deep intellectual conversation in your car, like Lindell and me.”

  “Uh-huh,” Cyd said. “Must’ve been too deep for words, ’cause from what I could see, whoever wasn’t driving was asleep.”

  Cedric chuckled. “Exactly.”

  “Maybe we should’ve taken our cue from you and done the same,” Kelli said, “but we couldn’t stop talking.”

  “I’m guessing Stephanie and Lindell won’t be making the nine o’clock either,” Cyd said.

  “Oh!” Cedric sat up. “I have to go to the nine o’clock. Actually, I’m supposed to be at both. Scott and I are announcing the new ministry for young guys.”

  “Oh, I forgot too,” Cyd said. “And I’m so excited. You and Scott are perfect for this.”

  Cedric sighed a little. “Yeah. We can certainly share from personal experience what not to do in life.”

  “And about God’s grace, Cedric. It’s awesome. Did you ever think you’d be talking to young men about God? And Scott . . . he thought God was through with him in public ministry, and not even a year later, here comes an opportunity.”

  Kelli stretched out on the bed again. “Is this the Scott who was in your wedding? Dana’s husband?”

  They both nodded.

  “I guess I shouldn’t ask . . .”

  Cedric and Cyd looked at one another.

  “It’s okay, Kelli,” Cyd said. “Scott confessed in front of the church, so it’s not a secret. He had an affair last year.”

  “Wow. I never would’ve thought. He and Dana look so happy together.”

  “Trust me, they didn’t look like that last fall,” Cyd said. “They went through a whole lot. But again—God’s grace. It’s been incredible to watch.”

  “Wow,” Kelli said again, thinking more about that word grace than about Scott.

  “I’d better get rolling,” Cedric said. He stood, yawning.

  “I’m coming with you to the nine o’clock, babe,” Cyd said. “I’ll run downstairs and get you the ibuprofen.”

  Cyd left, with Reese trailing behind. On his way out, Cedric looked back. “You coming, Kel?”

  “Umm . . . I don’t know. Might shoot for next week.”

  He stepped back into the room. “You okay?”

  “Just tired. Why?”

  “I remember you used to bug me about going to church. You were so on fire for God. But you said you haven’t been going to church at all in Austin.”

  Kelli felt a sudden sadness. What irony—Cedric asking her about church. As much as their mother had done for them, she hadn’t raised them in church. It was her best friend, Brian, who’d invited her to go at the beginning of high school, and her whole world had changed. Lindell was away at college, but she got her mother to come now and then. Cedric, who was already working, always declined. She’d prayed for God to change his heart. Now here he was, on fire, involved in ministry. And she . . .

  “I guess I kind of drifted during college,” she said.

  “I can understand that.” He sat next to her. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to you about the ways God changed my life. You know how I was.” He gave a lopsided smile. “Cyd had a lot to do with where I am now, but as I think about it, Kelli, so did you. God used you to plant the seed a long time ago.”

  She tried to will them away, but tears started in her eyes.

  Cedric put an arm around her and brought her close. “I’ve still got a lot to learn about God and how He works,” he said, “but I think this move is about more than you being with your family again. This is about you and God.”

  Kelli knew he was right. She found it hard even to talk to God now.

  “God’s got a plan for you, Kel. Know how I know?”

  She answered reluctantly. “How?”

  “Because if He didn’t have a plan, you’d still be in Austin staring at four walls, unemployed and by your lonesome. And I’m thinking He put the crazy idea in my head to drive through the night and get here so we could all go to Living Word today. Yep, I’m putting it on Him so I can feel better about suggesting that drive.”

  Kelli tried not to smile.

  “So you have to get up and come, or my backache will have been for nothing.” He raised his fist.

  She blinked back tears. “What?”

  “Fist bump.”

  “Fist bump?”

  “You know the rallying cry. Let’s do this!”

  Kelli stared at it, then raised her own, a weak one, and tapped his fist with it.

  BRIAN ENTERED THE MAIN BUILDING OF LIVING WORD for his first Sunday of worship. For the past four weeks he’d met with Dr. Lyles on Tuesday mornings. Without planning to, he’d poured out so much of his heart on his first visit that the pastor invited him to return the following week. Now it was a standing appointment.

  He had no doubt that this would be his new church home, although out-of-town concerts had prevented him from getting here the past month. But it was hard to break it to his grandmother. To her, church wasn’t church unless it was held in that one building she’d been going to for fifty years. Over oatmeal this morning he said, “Grandma, come visit Living Word with me this one Sunday.”

  “Boy,” she said, “only way I’m leaving Christ Temple is if they carry me out in a box.”

  The common areas were already filled with people when he arrived, and Brian was struck by many things—the multi-ethnic nature of the crowd, the young age, and the mostly casual dress. The church
he’d grown up in was predominantly black, average age fifty, and you’d better be wearing a suit or a dressy dress and a hat. But the church he’d attended in college was more like this, so it was easy to feel at home in his khaki slacks and shirt.

  He walked past several pockets of people, some drinking coffee in the café area, and went straight to the sanctuary where an usher handed him a program. Down a far right aisle, he chose a pew about halfway up and sat on the end. There were still fifteen minutes to go before the start of service, so he settled in and opened up his Bible.

  KELLI HAD MIXED EMOTIONS AS SHE ENTERED LIVING Word. Coming here for weddings was one thing, but now she felt strange, like an outsider with a sign taped to her back that read Prodigal Daughter. None of these people knew her—or that she hadn’t been to church in seven years. But that’s how she felt as she walked past them—that they were all watching, that they all knew her story.

  Still, it felt good to be here with her family—special bonus running into Stephanie and Lindell in the parking lot. And it felt good to finally feel her feet turning back to the path where she knew they belonged.

  She followed the others through the fellowship areas, stopping every few feet as they greeted people. Cyd and Stephanie had grown up in this church, and it had become home for Cedric and Lindell as well. They seemed to know everybody.

  Inside the sanctuary, Kelli learned, the whole crew sat together in the same place, week after week—left of center, fourth pew from the front. Dana, Scott, and Phyllis were already there and moved down for the rest of them.

  Kelli whispered to Stephanie, “Where’s Phyllis’s husband?”

  “Oh, Hayes doesn’t come.”

  She wondered why. Had he never gone to church? Or had something happened in his life that caused him to turn away, as with her?

  The praise and worship team assembled on the platform. Kelli stood with the rest of the congregation, waiting for what had always been her favorite part of the service.

  “We want to welcome you to Living Word this morning,” the worship leader said as the band started playing some opening notes. “Some of you may be here each and every week. Others may not have been to a service in years. We want you to know it doesn’t matter. God’s arms are opened wide. Won’t you run to Him? Run to His throne of grace.”