Cherished

by Kim Cash Tate

  Cyd and Kelli were listening. Heather never talked much about her family.

  “But the main thing is I want to get her a Bible,” Heather said. “I know she’ll think it’s weird, but I’ve been praying for her to know Jesus too, and this could be a first step. I guess. I don’t know, I’m really nervous about it. Can we pray?”

  THE FRONT DOOR WAS AJAR, PEOPLE COMING AND GOING as Heather walked up to her mother’s house. Her mother had lived in this north St. Louis neighborhood for more than ten years. If nothing else, she’d built a great camaraderie with the neighbors.

  “Heather, haven’t seen you in a while!”

  She turned. “Hi, Mrs. Harris. Good to see you. You’re looking quite festive.”

  “When Diane said she was throwing a seventies party, I got excited. That was my time, you know.” The raspy-voiced woman was in her sixties, decked out in polyester bell-bottom pants and a long-sleeve paisley shirt. She flicked her cigarette, and orange-colored ashes fell to the ground. “I still had the clothes, and my daughter found me this wig at some secondhand shop.” She fluffed her Afro. “Ain’t it nice?”

  Heather chuckled. “Just don’t stand next to me. You’ll show me up, for sure.” The most she’d done to get in costume was wear her widest-legged jeans and a T-shirt with a peace symbol on it.

  Heather and Mrs. Harris walked inside the ranch-style home together. The front room had been transformed with tie-dyed sheets over the furniture, but the main action was obviously in the basement. “YMCA” blasted through the floorboards, along with loud voices.

  “Hey, I love that song!” Mrs. Harris went straight for the stairs.

  Heather headed to the kitchen to drop off her gift bag. Her mother probably wouldn’t open gifts until tomorrow. Heather hoped she’d discover this one in just the right mood, quiet and reflective, though she wasn’t sure it would make a difference.

  She stepped inside the kitchen—and turned right back around. A couple she didn’t recognize was leaning against the counter, kissing. They didn’t even pause when they heard Heather’s footsteps.

  She headed to the basement instead, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the disco-ball lighting as she joined the partiers. Donna Summer was playing now, the crowd lively, covering most of the floor space. Heather saw many of her mother’s friends as well as neighbors, all of them wearing some form of throwback attire—and almost all of them with a beer bottle or other drink in hand. Finally she spotted her mother, disco dancing in a sparkly minidress and go-go boots, her blond hair styled like Farrah Fawcett’s.

  Her mother saw her too. “Heather,” she called. “You made it. Come here, honey!”

  “Happy birthday, Mom,” Heather said, giving her a hug.

  Her mother stopped dancing and posed. “Not bad for fifty, eh?”

  “Not bad at all,” her dancing partner said.

  Diane smiled and poked him in the chest. “You, sir, are a shameless flatterer. And I love it.” She looked at her daughter again. “Heather, honey, let me introduce you. This is Cliff. He’s a friend of . . .” She looked confused. “Who did you come with?”

  “Mike.”

  “Oops.” Diane laughed, covering her mouth. “He’s my boyfriend.” She glanced around. “I’d better find him before he gets mad at me.”

  Heather leaned close to her mother. “Mom, what’s that smell? Are you letting people smoke that stuff down here?”

  “Since when is that a big deal? Don’t people use it as medicine these days? Certainly makes me feel better.”

  Heather sighed, ready to leave already.

  Diane grabbed a younger guy walking past. “Tim, this is my daughter, the one I was telling you about. Didn’t I tell you she’s a hottie?”

  Heather gave her mother a look. “Mom, please.” She turned back to the guy and extended her hand. “Hi, I’m Heather. Nice to meet you.”

  He lifted her hand and kissed it. “Pleasure’s mine. Wanna dance?”

  “Um, not right now. But thanks.”

  Diane tugged on her hand. “What is with you? That guy’s gorgeous.”

  Diane had always acted more like a girlfriend than a mother, setting Heather up with guys, handing her mixed drinks as a teen. But it never seemed sad to her until this moment.

  “I’m really not feeling my best,” Heather said. “Maybe I can come visit with you tomorrow.”

  “Aww, but I’d hate for you to miss the party—hey, is that a gift for me?”

  Heather remembered the bag in her hand. “Oh, I meant to leave it in the kitch—” Why try to explain? “I’ll just take it to your room.”

  “You’ll do no such thing. I wanna see my gift. Is it the perfume I like?” Diane took the bag from Heather and stuck her hand beneath the tissue. “What’s this?” She lifted it out. “A Bible?”

  Heather cringed.

  Diane burst into laughter. “Hey,” she called to those around her, “my daughter gave me a Bible for my birthday.” She held it up in the air. “Think she’s trying to tell me something?”

  People raised their beer bottles and cheered.

  “When’s the Bible study, Diane?” one of them asked.

  Diane thought that was even funnier. “Yeah, I’ll let you know,” she yelled. She turned to Heather. “So what’s the deal? You turn religious on me? You must be conspiring with that brother of yours.”

  Heather frowned. “Ian? What does he have to do with it?”

  “Oh, he tried sending me a Bible a few years ago. Now he just puts Bible verses in birthday cards. Got one today. Haven’t even opened it.”

  “You never told me that,” Heather said.

  Diane shrugged. “You never asked.” She put the Bible back in the bag and handed it to Heather. “No offense, honey, but I would’ve used the perfume.”

  Cliff took her hand and got her dancing again.

  Heather eased back upstairs, avoiding the eyes of those in her path, wondering about her half brother. She didn’t know him well at all. Diane had given birth to him at nineteen but had no interest in raising him. His paternal grandparents took him first, and when Ian’s father married, the father’s wife adopted him. Heather remembered a couple of visits here and there when she was younger and school pictures in the mail, but it had been years since she’d seen or heard about him. He was a believer?

  She walked down the hall, took the Bible out of the bag, and tucked it inside her mother’s nightstand. Then she stopped back in the kitchen, which was deserted now. Out of curiosity, she checked her mother’s mail pile. There in the stack was a card with a return address sticker that said Ian and Becky Engel. So he was married. She wondered if they had any kids—if she had any nieces or nephews.

  Heather wrote down their Illinois address. After all these years, she suddenly had a real desire to know her brother.

  twenty-two

  CYD HAD A GROGGY UNDERSTANDING THAT A PHONE was ringing, but she didn’t know how to answer it. When she realized that it wasn’t a dream, she reached for her cell from the nightstand and answered, but no one was there.

  Cedric rolled over. “Babe, get the phone.”

  “I’m trying.”

  Forced to pry her eyes open, she realized it was the landline. Goodness. What would she do when her baby needed her in the middle of the night? Was there a mommy thing that kicked in to help a person get her bearings?

  “Hello?”

  “Sorry to wake you, Cyd.”

  She sat up. “Dana?” She saw the time now—6:00 a.m. “Is something wrong?”

  “No. Well. Can you meet me before church to talk, maybe at Starbucks?”

  “Uh, sure.” Cyd worked to gather her faculties. Until two seconds ago, she wasn’t sure what day it was. “What time?”

  “Seven thirty?”

  Cyd was about to ask why she needed to call so early, but given the climate between them of late, she thought better of it. “That’s fine.”

  They agreed on a Starbucks, and Cyd sat in bed pondering what this could
be about, that it couldn’t wait till after church. She remembered Heather’s heartfelt prayer yesterday. Was God answering already? It would certainly encourage Heather. She’d called last night to say the gift hadn’t gone over well, that her mother had laughed. Maybe God was giving her a gift by touching Dana’s heart. Or maybe Cyd was getting ahead of herself. Dana might have an altogether different issue in mind.

  Cyd felt a pull to get up, make coffee, and spend the time before their meeting with God. Whatever it was, depending on how it went, things could end up worse than ever between them.

  CYD PULLED THE STARBUCKS DOOR OPEN AND SAW DANA behind one person in line. She hated the jumpy feeling she now got when she saw her friend, not knowing what to say, how she would be received. Sucking in a big breath, she stepped inside, surprised to see that the place was fairly empty.

  She walked up beside her friend. “Good morning.”

  Dana turned and gave her a slight smile. “Good morning. Thanks for coming.”

  “No problem.”

  Their gazes landed on the menu board, as if they needed to survey what was available. Dana moved forward and ordered her usual, a grande nonfat vanilla latte. “I’m taking care of hers too.”

  “Thanks,” Cyd said. She took a step up. “Is it possible to get a decaf mocha latte?” She still wasn’t used to thinking of herself as pregnant.

  Dana looked surprised. “Decaf? Early in the morning? Never seen you do that.”

  “I know. I’m . . . changing things up.”

  The barista handed them their drinks, and they settled at a small tabletop by the window, each taking a first sip, staring at their cups.

  “Okay, so, I pretty much haven’t slept well since Maggiano’s.”

  Cyd looked at Dana, waiting for more.

  “But last night I really couldn’t sleep.” Dana was studying her cup. “And it’s not just that I couldn’t sleep. I felt all weepy inside, like I was grieving.” She looked directly at Cyd now. “Like I’d lost my best friend.” She sighed. “And for the first time, I talked to God about it, about this . . . situation. And then I got weepy for real.”

  “Why?”

  “He showed me me—and I hadn’t even asked Him too!”

  Cyd smiled faintly. The Daughters liked to say one of the hardest prayers was, “Lord, show me me,” because He usually responded with something they wouldn’t like.

  “Yeah, He’ll do that, won’t He?”

  “I was wrong, Cyd.” Dana’s brown eyes showed her sorrow. “I let my bitterness toward Heather get in the way of so many things. As if God can’t get ahold of her heart? I should be glad she’s been changed, but it was like . . . it was like I wanted to keep hating her, and the only way to do that was to keep believing the worst about her. When you befriended her, I didn’t know what to do with that.”

  “I know. It’s been hard for me, too, knowing how you felt. I can totally understand.”

  “But that doesn’t make it right. I’m sorry for giving you a hard time about helping her. I know you. You wouldn’t have done it unless you were convinced God wanted you to.” She shook her head. “But what really got me about ‘me’ was thinking I was better than she was. Boy, did it sting when God showed me I’m as much a sinner as she is, that we both need a Savior.” She paused. “I was able to forgive her, Cyd, just like you said. I had to call you right after that breakthrough.”

  “Dana, wow.” Cyd got up and embraced her. “I’m so happy for you. I know it was hard. No one should have to go through what you went through. But forgiveness is so huge. What’s that old saying? ‘We’re most like God when we forgive.’”

  “Hmm.” Dana pondered it. “I love that.”

  Cyd sat down again. “So . . . now might be a good time to give you my news.”

  “What news?”

  A huge smile lighted Cyd’s face. “I’m pregnant. Cedric and I are going to have a baby.”

  “What?” Dana covered her mouth and looked around, embarrassed by her own volume. She leaned in and said it again in a whisper. “What? How far along? When did you find out?”

  “Not sure how far along because I haven’t been to the doctor yet, but I’m guessing six weeks or so. Found out on Monday.”

  “But we were all at dinner on Tuesday. Why didn’t you say anything?”

  Cyd gave a light shrug. “I had planned to.”

  “But I got an attitude and walked out. Wonderful. Ruined your big moment.”

  “No big deal,” Cyd said. “But it would’ve really been a problem if I had to go through this whole pregnancy without Aunt Dana in the mix.”

  “Oh no, sweetie. We’ve waited much too long for this. Maybe that’s another reason God shook me up, so I’d get a clue about what I was missing out on. You’re having a baby!”

  Dana got up this time to give Cyd a hug, tears springing to her eyes. “All those conversations we had through the years, wondering if God would send you a husband, whether you’d ever have a child. I’m just . . . wow, wow, wow.” She laughed. “You will be an awesome momma.”

  “Thank you.” Cyd had a sigh in her voice as they took their seats. “Pray for me, though. I’m worried about the age thing. Cedric said we need to trust God, and of course he’s right. But every time I get a little excited, I get this warning that nothing’s guaranteed. Something could go wrong. So I shouldn’t get too happy until the baby’s actually here.”

  “Oh, Cyd. I hate that I haven’t been praying for you about this. I’m getting the ladies together for a DF prayer-and-praise celebration. We’re going to pray over you and the baby and praise God for this blessing He’s given you and Cedric. And we’re praying those worry thoughts away. This should be a time of joy!”

  Now Cyd had tears in her eyes, and a memory surfaced. “Remember when I was leaving for grad school?”

  Dana nodded big. “And you were sad because we’d been together for middle school, high school, and college—”

  “And I said it would never be the same, that we’d grow apart.”

  “And what did I say?” Dana asked.

  Cyd smiled. “That I’d been accepted into Harvard, and it should be a time of joy.”

  Dana nodded again. “And God would take care of the friendship. Seems to me He did.”

  “To this very day.”

  Dana eyed her friend suddenly. “Did you eat before you left the house?”

  “No.”

  “You might’ve been able to go to church with nothing in your stomach in the past, but that’s not gonna work now.” Dana rose from her seat. “Be right back.”

  “Where’re you going?”

  “To get a whole grain bagel. Baby needs nourishment.” Dana got back in line.

  Cyd rubbed her stomach. This would probably be the longest nine months she’d ever experienced, but she needed to stop thinking she had to hold her breath the entire time. Right now a baby was growing inside of her, a baby God was molding and shaping. Dana was right. She should actually enjoy the process.

  But the thought made her a little sad too. She realized that with the pregnancy, she had a slight window into Kelli’s pain, her feeling of loss. As she caressed her own tummy, she prayed right there for Kelli and for the song she and Brian had recorded, that it would bring healing and hope to those who would hear it.

  twenty-three

  KELLI FELT STRANGELY GLAD TO SEE BRIAN AT CHURCH. She knew he’d be gone Friday, with Monica—though she didn’t know where—but she’d expected to hear from him on Saturday. She’d been looking forward to sharing her newest song idea, the love letter to young men. At the rate they’d been collaborating, they might’ve been able to knock it out by evening. But he didn’t call, and when she texted him after the Bible study with Cyd, she didn’t hear back then either, which wasn’t like him.

  But there he was now in the back of the sanctuary, among the crowd heading to their seats.

  “Girl, go get him,” Stephanie said. “I don’t know why he doesn’t just come over here.”r />
  “I’m supposed to walk back there?”

  “Yes, let him know he’s welcome. It’s the Christianly thing to do.”

  Kelli smirked at her. She wasn’t opposed to Brian sitting with them, but she didn’t want to go out of her way to invite him either. “Looks like I won’t have to.”

  Cyd and Dana had come in and were talking to him.

  “Thank God.” Phyllis was on Kelli’s other side. “I was really praying for those two after that dinner at Maggiano’s. Good to see them smiling together.”

  Cyd and Dana started down the aisle, with Brian in tow. When they got to the pew, everyone stood and did a pew version of musical chairs. Cyd moved in next to Cedric. Dana walked further down to sit next to Scott. And space suddenly appeared between Kelli and Stephanie.

  Brian filled it. “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  Brian eyed her. “How was your weekend?”

  “Good. How was yours?”

  Brian nodded. “Real good, actually.”

  Kelli wanted to roll her eyes. Probably spent Saturday with Monica too. But why should she care?

  Logan and the praise and worship team walked out on the platform, and the band launched into the first song. The congregation came to its feet.

  Brian leaned over. “I didn’t get your text until late last night. Sorry.”

  “No problem.”

  It was his album. If he could afford to lose a working day, that was his business. She’d never seen him ignore his phone for long stretches, though. Must’ve been totally preoccupied.

  Brian allowed the worship music to consume him. He didn’t whisper another word. With hands raised, he sang the song in a low voice, eyes mostly closed, yet he knew all the words. Kelli told herself to stop peeping at him. She got lost in the praise herself and practically forgot Brian until they sat down for announcements . . . and fell into an old habit.

  Brian started it, asking if she had a pen. He drew a tic-tac-toe board on the back of the program and passed it to her. Without a word, she got another pen and filled in her X in the middle. He did his corner O, and they finished four boards without a winner. Brian drew a fresh board as an announcement was made about the young men’s ministry. He paused and looked up front to catch it.