Cherished

by Kim Cash Tate

  Cyd took a deep breath. “Logan said Heather needs someone to disciple her, that she doesn’t know much about the Bible and has a lot of questions. He asked if . . . if I’d be willing to do it.”

  Dana let go of Scott’s hand and sat up. “You told him no, right?”

  “I told him I’d pray about it.”

  “Cyd, how could you?”

  “How could I pray about it?”

  “How could you even consider helping her after what she did to me? She was in my bed sleeping with my husband. She’s despicable!”

  Scott lowered his eyes.

  “Dana, I was there.” She gazed into the eyes of her friend. “I’m the one who wanted to slap the girl. This is not easy for me. But God reminded me that I started praying for her a little while after that, for her to be changed. What am I supposed to do now that He’s answered?”

  Scott put his hand over Dana’s. “The last thing I want to do is relive everything we went through last fall, but I was as much to blame for what happened as Heather. And I was shown mercy and given another chance.” He paused. “What if Heather really has committed her life to Jesus? What if she truly wants to learn and grow? Shouldn’t she be given a chance too?”

  “You know what, Scott?” Dana said. “I really don’t feel like hearing you defend her. But fine. Let’s agree she should have every chance in the world to learn and grow. But it should be with someone else’s best friend.” Dana lifted her hands in frustration. “I can’t believe we’re even having this discussion. Doesn’t Logan know we’re best friends? Why would he ask you to do this, Cyd? It’s not fair.”

  Cyd was on the verge of tears. It really didn’t seem fair. “I think,” she said slowly, “Logan asked because I was there when the need arose. But I also think”—Help me, Lord—“that somehow, even that might’ve been part of God’s plan. I wanted to reject Logan’s request instantly, but I couldn’t. And I kept praying for God to give me a peace about telling him no. Instead, He gave me a peace about doing it.”

  Dana stared at her for long seconds. “So that’s it? You’re going to disciple the girl who almost tore my family apart?” She pushed back from the table. “I need to go for a walk.”

  “I’m going with you,” Scott said.

  Dana turned. “I need to think this through by myself right now.” She cast a glance at Cyd and went out the door.

  Cyd’s heart was breaking. She couldn’t remember the last time she and Dana had had a disagreement, but she was sure this one beat every one they’d had since junior high.

  Scott stared at the door. “I understand how Dana’s feeling, and I know this will rehash a lot of stuff I’d rather leave alone. But how can I not be glad for Heather? And she couldn’t ask for a better mentor.”

  “Well . . . pray,” Cyd said. “I still don’t like her. But I really want to see her as God sees her.”

  “I’ll be praying. For Dana too.”

  “BRIAN? DID YOU HEAR ME?”

  Brian snapped his attention back to Stephanie and the laptop in front of them. They were in the office just off the family room.

  “Uh . . . can you repeat that?”

  “Show me one more time what to do once we’re done recording. How do we convert it to, whatever you call it, so we can e-mail it?”

  “The mp3 file? Yeah, that’s easy.” Brian walked her through it.

  “This is great. I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “No problem at all.” His thoughts drifted again. He’d hoped to get a glimpse of Kelli, but she was obviously determined to steer clear of him, to the extent of missing her own party. He’d stayed longer than expected, but with the tutorial done, it was time to go. His phone rang, and he glanced at it. “Excuse me, I need to get this.”

  Stephanie stood. “And I need to see what’s taking these guys so long to get this food off the grill.”

  He answered as Stephanie left.

  “You won’t believe it,” Harold said. “Got some good news.”

  “What’s up?”

  “My old connections paid off. I sent your stuff to G-Freddie, and he digs your style. Said he’d be willing to guest on your album. That’s huge, man! Crazy airplay on the radio. He could put you in the stratosphere. And check this out. He thinks you’d be helping him too. A feature on your album might clean up his image . . . he had a little problem with that jail stint recently.” Harold laughed. “What do you think?”

  Brian had to temper what he wanted to say. “I think we need a face-to-face. Let’s set a date. Will you be in St. Louis anytime soon?”

  “What about? Just tell me now.”

  “Okay.” Brian nodded, resolved. “This isn’t working, Harold. We’re not seeing eye-to-eye, and I don’t even think you’re listening to me anymore.”

  “Oh, you just gonna dump me now? After I got you where you are?”

  Calm coated Brian’s insides. “You helped me get a deal, and I’ll always be appreciative. But God got me where I am. If I had followed your advice along the way, I wouldn’t have the ministry or the following I have now.”

  “True,” Harold said. “You’d have a bigger following—but it’s all good. I feel like God’s been telling me to go back to secular anyway. Maybe He wants me to minister to those artists.”

  “I appreciate your understanding, and I wish you well. I’ll hit you up later this week so we can talk more about what we need to do.”

  Brian got up, exhaling, feeling one weight lifted . . . but he still had a ton on his mind. He found Cyd and Phyllis in the kitchen setting out plates, glasses, and soft drinks.

  “You’re staying to eat, aren’t you?” Cyd asked.

  He put his hands in his pockets. “Thanks, but I need to head home.”

  “You got a home-cooked meal waiting for you?”

  He smiled slightly. “Grandma usually cooks, but she made Sunday her day off. There’s always leftovers, though.”

  Cyd stepped closer. “Let me put it this way. Are you hungry?”

  “Well . . .”

  She passed him a plate. “Brian, get some food.”

  “But I saw the balloons and signs and everything. This is Kelli’s celebration, and I know she’s upstairs because of me. I need to go.”

  The women looked at one another.

  Cyd took the stoneware plate from him and exchanged it for two paper plates. “Pile the food high, and I’ll wrap it up for you.”

  “That’ll work,” he said.

  Phyllis passed him the baked beans and potato salad on her end of the counter. “Are you working on your next album?” she asked.

  “Good question.” He gave an empty chuckle. “I should be, but nothing’s really coming to me.”

  “How can we pray for you?” Cyd was taking some macaroni and cheese out of the oven. “You’ve got to get some of this. It’s Phyllis’s specialty.”

  “Oh, that’s awesome—the prayers, I mean,” Brian said, then added, “but the mac ’n’ cheese looks awesome too.” He turned from the food. “Please pray for direction. A couple of months ago I thought God was moving me away from my graduate studies and telling me to focus on music. But now I don’t know . . . He might be saying the exact opposite.”

  “Oh, Lord, please keep him in music,” Phyllis said. “Anybody who can reach my husband needs to keep doing what he’s doing.”

  Brian gave her an appreciative smile.

  “Brian, I think we should all pray for you while you’re here,” Cyd said. At his nod of agreement, she walked to the back door and called everyone in.

  They trooped into the kitchen moments later, though he noticed one of the families had left. The dog trotted in with them, panting from an obvious workout outdoors, and went straight to her water bowl.

  “Time to eat?” one of the little guys asked.

  “Yep,” Cyd said, “but first we’re going to pray for Brian.”

  They formed a circle, and after Brian shared his heart with the entire group, Cedric began to pray. Brian was
suddenly teary-eyed. Maybe because it was remarkable to see how far God had brought them both. Maybe because he had been needing a close circle like this more than he knew.

  But maybe the tears stemmed from something else. Maybe because the one person he wished was in the circle, holding his hand and praying with him, was upstairs avoiding him.

  thirteen

  KELLI BOUNDED DOWN THE STAIRS FRIDAY, READY FOR A FUN night out with her brothers and sisters-in-law. After dinner they’d catch a movie, and if they still had energy she’d pitch a stop at Ted Drewes for frozen custard, a St. Louis favorite she hadn’t had in a long while. Being able to spend time with family like this was a new treat, but she looked forward to it for another reason as well—to get her mind off the mental roller coaster it had been riding all week.

  She looked down at her constant companion. Reese had already fashioned new headquarters in her room, complete with a blanket the dog had dragged upstairs and lodged in a corner, along with a collection of toys. And now she’d started letting Kelli know when she wanted a walk. She’d just dropped her leash at Kelli’s feet.

  “Didn’t Cedric walk you when he got home? And I know I walked you this morning.” Kelli rubbed her behind the ears. “I think I’m spoiling you.”

  Cyd and Cedric were upstairs getting ready. They had thirty minutes before they needed to meet Stephanie and Lindell at the restaurant. Plus those eyes looked so pitiful.

  “Okay, girl, come on. I’ll give you a quick trip around the block.”

  Kelli attached her leash and led Reese out the back door and down the driveway. A downpour earlier in the afternoon had ushered in a nice cool summer breeze. Kelli breathed it in as they trekked down the sidewalk and tried to breathe out everything on her mind.

  The week had started on a high. She loved the experience of recording the song, even learning how to use the computer keyboard and other instruments in GarageBand on the Mac. Laying down her own music and lyrics and hearing them back gave her a thrill she hadn’t expected, permission to bask for a moment, to accept that God might very well be about to bless her with a deep desire of her heart.

  The excitement increased after they’d sent the mp3 late Sunday to Monica’s assistant. Monica replied herself the next morning, excited to receive it, saying she’d already forwarded it to the production team. She added—with a yellow smiley face—that she’d be calling her team within the hour to get feedback and told Kelli to expect an update soon.

  The rest of Monday and all day Tuesday, Kelli’s imagination soared. Maybe she’d get to go to the studio to watch Monica record the song. And maybe, just maybe, she’d get to sing some background vocals. She’d never dreamed of being a singer—so many did it better—but Monica’s comment about her voice had encouraged her. She caught herself singing the background melody to the song as she went about her day.

  When no word came by Wednesday evening, Kelli began to back away. It didn’t take three full days to listen to a four-minute recording. They didn’t like it. They’d moved on . . . and neglected to let her know.

  On Thursday she focused her energy where it should’ve been the last two weeks—on finding a job. She reviewed her folder of information on public relations firms and corporate marketing departments in the St. Louis area and perused their websites. She would target those who were hiring first, hopeful that Cedric could get her in the door with a few of them.

  Miles had helped focus her too, e-mailing a Dallas Morning News article that profiled a local PR firm and its successful launches of different brands. Felt good to get her head back in the game, remember why she’d gone to graduate school. She didn’t need to be up in the clouds thinking about music again. She needed to find a position and start working.

  But Stephanie had called to give her a pep talk that morning. “We haven’t heard anything, and I know you’re thinking the worst, but there could be a million reasons for the delay, none having to do with you or the song. Don’t forget—Monica loves it!”

  Kelli smiled at a dog walker coming her way and moved Reese to her other side, fearing the Great Dane might come at her. But little Reese was the one who caused the beef, growling and straining to get at the other dog.

  “Reese, no,” Kelli said, using both hands to pull her back.

  The man smiled, tightened the leash, and moved his dog onward.

  Kelli rounded the bend back to their street. All day she’d teetered between the clouds and the ground, not sure which to cling to, praying for an answer. But tonight she just wanted off. She didn’t even want to talk about it. She just wanted to enjoy the company of her fam—

  Was that Stephanie and Lindell’s car?

  Kelli watched as the car pulled up in front of the house and Stephanie and Lindell got out.

  “Hey, guys!” Kelli called. “Decided to meet here instead of the restaurant?”

  They glanced at her, then at one another.

  Kelli frowned a little as she came closer. “Y’all look funny. What’s up?”

  “Why don’t we go inside,” Lindell said.

  Kelli walked in and unhooked the leash as Cyd and Cedric came down the stairs. She noticed the four of them eyeing one another.

  “Okay, what’s going on?” Kelli said. “You two knew Steph and Lindell were coming here?”

  A big smile eased onto Cedric’s face. “I guess we can go ahead—”

  “Wait,” Stephanie cut in. “Cyd and Cedric don’t know this either. I sent Monica an e-mail today, asking for an update. I got a reply from her assistant only a few minutes ago.” She pulled out her phone, pulled up the message, and passed it to Kelli.

  Kelli’s hand shook as she took it. The message was two lines.

  Our team liked the song but decided to go another direction.

  We apologize for not getting word to you sooner. Best, Laura

  Decided to go another direction . . . decided to go another direction . . . Kelli forced her eyes away from the words and passed the phone back.

  “Let me see that,” Cyd said. She and Cedric read it together.

  Kelli picked up her purse from the chair by the door and slung it over her shoulder. “Ready?”

  Cedric eyed the others before responding. “Kelli,” he said, “we’ve got something for you. That’s why we’d already planned for Lindell and Stephanie to come here first.”

  Kelli stared at them. Please don’t let it be music related. She simply wanted to pretend that none of this had happened and get back to life as usual. Maybe they got her a MacBook, and she could use it for her job. “What is it?” she asked.

  Cedric and Lindell slipped back out the front door, Cyd and Stephanie following. She heard a trunk slam. The women returned first, with Cyd holding the door for the guys. Lindell walked in with a big black stand and set it in front of her, then Cedric brought in a keyboard and placed it on the stand.

  Kelli walked away from it. “We have to take it back.”

  “I told them you’d say that,” Lindell said, “but so what if Monica’s camp turned down the song? They affirmed you as a songwriter by giving it consideration.”

  “This is our way of tangibly saying we support you,” Cedric said. “We want you to have what you need to create fantastic music. You might have several more rejections before you hit—but you’ve got to keep plugging. Don’t give up.”

  Cyd nodded. “Monica’s just one recording artist. I know God will open a door for you. I just know He will.”

  “No, He won’t, and it’s okay.” Kelli inhaled, trying to keep it together. “God’s just making clear what I already knew. I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up. I’m done with music.”

  Cedric touched her shoulder. “Kel, it’s one rejection. Don’t let that stop you from—”

  “That’s not what’s stopping me.”

  They’d never understand—or leave her alone—unless she made it plain. She took a big breath, making eye contact with each of them.

  “It’s me. All me. Okay? I’m the one who mess
ed up God’s call on my life. Everything changed when I . . .” Her voice gave out on her. She looked down, mustered strength. “When I had the abortion.”

  The tears came halfway up the stairs, and they came like a flood. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been clinging to the clouds, to the only dream, the only heartfelt passion she’d ever known, clinging to the faint hope that maybe God did have plans for her music, maybe He would give her a second chance.

  It was a long fall from those clouds.

  She collapsed on her bed, watching as Reese eased slowly into the room, as if aware something was wrong. She jumped onto the bed, nuzzling Kelli’s chin. Kelli wrapped her arms around the dog and cried into her fur.

  The stairs creaked under several sets of footsteps. All these years she’d kept her secret. What would her brothers say? What would Cyd and Stephanie think of her? She felt the bed sink as bodies joined her and Reese. Cedric sat closest, took her hand. For the longest time, the only sounds were Kelli’s sniffles.

  Cedric cleared his throat. “Kel, I’m so sorry. I had no idea you were dealing with this.” He kept silent for several seconds. “You said everything changed. Was this in college? Grad school?”

  “End of high school.”

  Lindell said it. “Brian?”

  Kelli nodded into the fur.

  “Dear God . . .” Lindell muttered. “You were so young. Was Mom there for you?”

  “I never told her,” Kelli mumbled.

  “What about Brian?” Cedric asked.

  “He wasn’t there either,” she said amid more tears. “He wasn’t with me at the clinic, and he wasn’t there for me afterward.”

  “He left you to deal with it alone?” There was anger in Cedric’s voice.

  “That’s why I have nothing to say to him.”

  Cedric stood, letting out a heavy sigh, and walked a few feet away.

  “Sweetie,” Cyd said, “is that why he wanted to talk with you at the conference?”

  Kelli nodded again. “He asked me to forgive him.”

  Cedric sat back down, shaking his head. “I was ready to pick up the phone and go off on him and then . . .” He paused, emotion building in his voice. “Then God pulled me up. Reminded me that I did the same thing to somebody else’s sister.”