by kj lewis
“I thought I would lay down a few minutes. I’m about to get up and practice some more.”
“What are you working on?”
“Pearl asked me to play a hymn called ‘It is Well With My Soul.’ Are you familiar with it?”
“I know the song.”
“Do you know the story behind the song?” I turn my front to him sliding my leg between his. He shakes his head no.
“My grandma would tell it to me every time they played it in church. The man who penned the words in the late 1800’s was influential, financially successful. Married with five kids, a son and four daughters. His son died, I can’t remember why but he was young. He lost a lot of property in the Chicago fires, so he decided to take his family on a vacation. He sent his wife and four daughters by ship ahead of him while he wrapped up some business. The boat collided with another and all four daughters died at sea. His wife was the only one to survive. On his way to be with her, so strong was his belief that he wrote the song, to which someone later added the music. Whenever I hear it, I think about what he must have been feeling when he wrote the words. How strong his faith had to have been. How strong he and his wife had to be to survive it.”
“You’re the strongest woman I know, Emelia. And I was raised by Ruth. You make me a better man.”
“I love you, Graham.”
“I love you, Emelia.”
A large clap of thunder wakes us, moving us inside. Graham pulls on a sweater before following me down.
“I have a few more things to tend to. I’ll be in the office a couple more hours if you need me.” He sets a coaster with a Diet Coke on the piano we had added as part of the design. I reward him with a smile and a kiss as I play, taking a break from the cello.
A while later, Adam sits next to me on the piano bench and starts to play, looking at me from the corner of his eye to see if I will take the bait. A sly smile on both of our faces, I follow his lead, and we play next to each other for almost an hour. I wondered who played piano in the family that they would keep one at their beach house. He’s much better than I am. He plays a quick melody that my fingers can’t keep up with, making us both laugh—him more than me—and I ponder how much he and Graham are alike. Like Graham, Adam plays a little faster, a little more involved each time. Pushing me. Just like my husband. By the end, my hands are cramping and I am way out of my league, grateful when he puts me out of my misery by ending the piece on a tricky note that sends me laughing over the keys.
Pulling me to him, he laughs with me. “You’re going to be okay.” He says giving my shoulders one last squeeze, popping a quick kiss to the side of my lips.
“If one more person kisses my wife,” Graham utters.
“If it makes you feel better you can kiss me,” Jules says teasingly while she flips through a magazine. She puckers her lips at Graham as he walks by and he rubs her on the head like a kid.
“I’m not into this hippie love like all of you,” he says dryly.
“She’s not a dog to pet, Graham.” Adam walks over to her and places a sweet kiss on her playful frown.
“I had no idea you could play. You’re really good,” I tell Adam.
“So are you. My fingers are longer.” He waggles his fingers to explain why I couldn’t keep up.
“Stop,” Jules says never looking up from her magazine. “You’re making me horny.”
“Could we not.” Graham makes a face.
“Where is everyone?” I ask.
“They went to pick up the boys.” Jules puts her magazine down, stretching before moving onto Adams’s lap, his hand landing between her legs. “It’s about to storm. Why don’t we stay here and cook?” she asks, sitting straighter when Adam flexes his hand.
“These fingers?” he asks seductively.
“Excuse us,” Jules laughs, pulling on Adam and leaving me in the living room giggling while Graham remains unamused.
“So they won’t be back for an hour. What do you want to do?” I ask.
“What Adam and Jules are doing.” He pulls me off the stool and throws me over his shoulder carrying me up to our bedroom where he throws me on the bed. “Only we’ll do it better.” His competitive gaze makes me laugh as he lowers himself onto me.
Once everyone returns to the house, we start dinner. Matt sears the shrimp while I start the linguini. Graham comes around the corner holding four bottles of wine he’s picked to go with our meal.
“I talked to Joy a little while ago. She said Teague was resting,” I say.
“Good. He’s doing better than I hoped. He’s healthy and that is helping his cause.” He checks the bread in the oven. The others join us and the conversation is light and easy.
“What are you thinking about?” Graham asks me while I watch everyone setting the table and getting ready to eat.
“Who were your friends before you met me?”
“Charlie. Adam. My dad. I wasn’t into a big group. I almost didn’t go to poker that night at your apartment, but Adam guilted me into spending time with him. He was right. As usual, but don’t tell him.” He whispers the last part before playfully kissing me.
Graham takes his time making love to me that night. Each time he moves in me it’s like a salve to his soul, knowing that I’m here and I’m going to be okay. My insides caress and ripple around him as he explodes inside me. His weight holds me to the bed as his breathing comes under control. It’s only then that the ringing finally stops.
The funeral is harder than I anticipated. Graham stays by my side the entire time, while I sit with Pearl to comfort her. But in the end, it’s she who comforts me. Despite Matt’s protest, Teague is here for the services. We are in an old wooden church with beautiful stained glass windows. The papers got a hold of the story and in a surprising twist, the city has rallied behind the family. Strangers show up to pay their respects, angry that life works the way it does. Wanting to take back their children. Get them the education they deserve. It’s brought about a greater discussion on how to save the kids in our city. The Mayor and Commissioner Ralston are both in attendance. Commissioner Ralston with his date, Colleen. Never in a million years did I think he was the man she was talking about.
The pastor introduces me and the notes of my cello amplify around the sanctuary as I play a melody of hymns that I worked on ending with Pearl’s request.
When I finish, I take my seat and Pearl squeezes my hand as she wipes a tear. I turn to Graham and am surprised when he stands. Buttoning his suit jacket, he takes the steps up to the front of the church, shaking hands with the pastor before standing behind the pulpit.
“For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Graham Taylor. Miss Pearl asked me to speak today about the young men I had the privilege to know.” He puts one hand in his pocket and one on the pulpit. At ease being in front of people.
“I first met Reggie when my wife introduced us. When I met Emelia, she told me about a dream she shared with Terrance to create a program that helped kids gain workplace experience while interning in a company that would later pay for their college education. I thought it was a noble plan, but I wasn’t sure it would work. I really didn’t think companies would get behind it. It didn’t take long for me to realize this wasn’t just a dream—it was happening. Why I ever doubted her, I have no idea. For those of you fortunate enough to know Emelia, you understand what, at time, I was just learning. When Emelia sets her mind to something, it’s going to work. But nonetheless, I was new to our relationship, new to Emelia, and I was doubtful. Until the first day she introduced me to Reggie. Then the picture came into focus and I understood who and what they were fighting for.
“Reggie wasn’t your run-of-the-mill kid. He was smart. Kind. Considerate. He was meek in nature but strong in values. He knew what was wrong and he knew what was right, and he wasn’t afraid to defend it. He was ethical, honest, trustworthy, but most of all he was loyal. Loyal to his family. Loyal to Emelia. And loyal to Taylor Organization. In a fraction of time, he was outperfo
rming his peers who had grown up with all the world had to offer and whose walls hold Ivy League degrees. I taught him what it means to work smart, and he taught me what it means to work with gratitude. It’s a lesson that I will carry with me always.
“Reggie and Emelia would often eat lunch together. Emelia of course, would be eating,” he smiles, “most likely something Pearl sent for her, and Reggie would be talking and telling stories. Always wearing a grin as big as his ears. I would watch the joy they had for each other and for the family they spoke of. For Reggie, that joy was unmatched when he spoke of Terrance. At the time, I hadn’t met Terrance, I knew were the pieces Reggie or Emelia shared with me. I was quick to label Terrance as trouble. As the gang leader he was. Responsible for the life he had chosen.
“Meeting Terrance validated the saying, ‘never judge a man until you have walked in his shoes’. Despite his young age, Terrance was a man. He made decisions that I won’t excuse, advocate, or defend. But if we place our children in an education system that’s broken, in the outskirts of the city so they won’t be seen, what do we really expect from them? When Terrance was growing up, he wasn’t making his decisions based on having the coolest tennis shoes or cell phone. Terrance was operating from a place of survival. How to help keep food on the table. How to make sure Reggie could get an education and not follow in his footsteps. He didn’t glorify the street life, like others in his situation. He used what he knew.
“I talked with Terrance the day before he died. He had just learned he was a father to a beautiful baby girl named Olivia. He was telling me what he wanted for his daughter and kind of life he wanted her to have. We started working out the logistics of what it would take to get him into a stable environment. I wanted to help him, but also make sure his dignity stayed intact. I wish now I wouldn’t have worried so much about his dignity, but more about the urgency. The urgency to change his situation.
“That urgency didn’t die with Terrance. At the beginning, I didn’t see past his label. I grew up with affluence. It wasn’t until I met my wife that I really understood what it meant to live in this neighborhood. What it means to be scared to let your kids play outside. What it means to go to a school where the system is broken. What it means to not have food on your table. To send your child to bed hungry knowing you wouldn’t have anything in the morning to give them. I also didn’t know what it meant for a black family to take in a blonde, southern girl as their own. To make sure she made it home safely from the subway each night. To make sure people understood to mess with her was to mess with them. For that, I will always owe a debt of gratitude for the man others have described unsuitably as only a gangbanger. I’m grateful to have had the opportunity to know that wasn’t Terrance’s only label. For me, it’s one of several: son, brother, friend, provider, and protector.
“Lastly,” and I see CEO Graham make an appearance, “Terrance and Reggie taught me there’s more to be done than throwing money at the problem. We have to be prepared and willing to roll up our sleeves to work on fixing the issues to bring about change. Emelia and I will be partnering with several organizations to start a not-for-profit that will focus solely on the issues I mentioned today. Our first goal is to address hunger. Our second goal will be to address the education system, and our third goal will be to drive community businesses by providing small business loans and offering classes so you can reinvest in your community. In your own backyards. We can’t do it without you. You are the real heroes of the story. The ones who get up every day and make a difference. Emelia and I hope you will join us in honoring Reggie and Terrance by being a vital part of the village it will take to make the changes needed. Thank you.”
Graham steps off the podium and walks down the stairs to an uproar of praises and ‘Amens’. Pearl stands with the room quickly following her lead.
“You did my boys justice. Thank you.” She smiles at him and he kisses her cheek before putting his arm around me.
The reverend delivers a lovely sermon before we sing a hymn and are dismissed. We have arranged a catered dinner in the dining hall at the church. I’m pleased with the turnout from Reggie’s team members, including Bear and the guys he ate with most days.
“You should run for Mayor,” Teddy says to Graham.
“He should run for President,” Colleen corrects him.
“I think I’ll stick with running Taylor Organization, thank you,” Graham says.
“If you’ll excuse me, I want to talk to some of the people in the neighborhood.” Teddy excuses himself while Colleen gives me a knowing look.
“What am I missing?” Graham asks, catching the looks between us.
“Nothing,” Colleen and I answer together.
Graham and I make our rounds, confirming that Pearl is taken care of before making sure she is taken to the hotel where the family is staying. This will be her last night in the city. We had the movers take everything yesterday, and in the morning, she will be leaving for Virginia.
We’re the last to leave, and while walking down the stairs of the church, we’re stopped by a woman who identifies herself as Mrs. Burnett.
“Mrs. Taylor. I’m with the State of New York.”
“How can I help you?” Graham asks, moving me slightly behind him while Smith and his men continue their presence around us.
“As I’m sure you are aware, we were able to prove Terrance was indeed Olivia’s father.” She pauses for us to confirm and continues as we wait for her to finish. “He and I met on several occasions to have all of the legal documents put in place, part of the parent plan. One of which names you and your husband to become Olivia’s adoptive parents in the case anything should happen to him.”
“What about Pearl?” I ask. “Doesn’t he want Olivia to grow up with his family?”
“I asked him the same question. He said you were as much his family, and that you would be able to provide the life he wanted for her.” She hands us an envelope. “This is a letter he wrote explaining his decision. He wrote one for his grandmother, too. I’ve spoken to her and she agrees with Terrance. This is my card. Call me tomorrow please to arrange a time to meet and discuss the logistics. It was a lovely eulogy you gave.” She smiles at Graham.
Graham helps me in the car before sliding in behind me. I’ve already opened the letter and am reading it.
“What does it say?” he asks.
“He didn’t choose Reggie because he wanted Reggie to have the opportunities to finish college, and he was afraid Reggie wouldn’t be able to manage the program and an infant. And that he wants us to adopt her and give her our last name. He wants her to be a Taylor. To belong to the family that raises her.” I look at him shocked. He’s cool and collected.
“Why aren’t you surprised?” I ask.
“Terrance called me and told me he was going to list us. I didn’t want to say anything to you until I knew what direction Pearl wanted to go in. I would have respected her wanting to raise Olivia. Dad’s been working with the State’s attorney to determine the necessary steps for either decision that was made.”
“What do you want to do?” I ask, knowing in my heart I have felt protective of Olivia from the first time I saw her picture.
“Well, I hadn’t really planned on us being parents two months into our marriage. I mean we haven’t even had a real honeymoon yet, but I find myself pulling up the picture you texted me when Terrance first told you about her. I keep looking at her, studying her, and wonder if we can do this, or if it’s putting too much on our marriage at the beginning.” I nod, hearing him but unable to keep the disappointment of reality setting in off my face. “Then yesterday, I found myself doing the oddest thing.” He reaches for my hand, toying with my wedding ring. “I found myself counting her fingers and her toes. And I knew then if I held her she would be mine. We always knew we would adopt at some point.”
“Oh my God. We’re really doing this? We’re going to be parents,” I whisper in awe. Never having really thought this would happen to me.<
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“We’re doing this.”
“Has your dad told anyone?”
“Not even mom.” He smiles knowing I want to be the one to surprise everyone.
“Do we know yet how long it will take for us to get her?”
“If we pay to rush the paperwork, which we will, we can get her in four weeks.”
“That long?” I ask, disappointed and frustrated with the process already. “It’s not a normal adoption. It’s not like we’re having to go through the application process. He chose us.”
“Yes. And that’s with me greasing the wheels as it is.”
“Are we safe to tell everyone?” I ask, unable to contain my smile.
“As long as we’re all in, we’re good to go. So, yes. You can tell people.”
“We can tell people,” I correct him.
“Yes, but this time it was reversed. Usually it’s the wife who tells the husband. I got the chance to be the one to tell the wife. You’re the one I wanted to tell, baby. So you can tell everyone else.” He smiles like it makes complete sense to him.
“Mr. and Mrs. Taylor.” Mrs. Burnett steps off the elevator into our apartment.
“Graham and Emme, please,” Graham says politely before helping her with the baby carrier.
“I’d like you to meet Olivia,” she says removing the blanket draped over the carrier before turning her towards us. She’s asleep and peaceful. She is the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen, and in this moment, I know in my heart that she is ours. I undo her carrier and pull her into my arms, placing a sweet kiss on her cheek. I inhale her baby scent, and I swear cartoon hearts and flowers surround me. Turning to Graham, I see the awe and wonderment in his eyes, and I know we have made the right decision.
“Your daughter.” I offer her to him and he tentatively takes her in his arms, his thumb brushing over her cheeks. She responds to his touch, opening her brown eyes with a sweet smile, before going back to sleep.
“She’s a good sleeper,” Mrs. Burnett says. I wipe a tear from the corner of Graham’s eye as he leans down and kisses me gently.