My Soul Then Sings

by Michelle Lindo-Rice

  Nigel nodded before commencing. “Mr. Oakes entered into an agreement to pay Jackson Higgins the fee Mr. Higgins asked for. Mr. Oakes recompensed Jackson well for his labor by paying him double his fees. Jackson accepted and deposited the check with the note, paid in full. He doesn’t have a case. Mr. Higgins is demanding a whopping 60 percent based on the premise that Spababies was his idea.”

  “We are prepared to submit proof,” Kyle said.

  “We have records of all Jackson’s notes,” Nigel said. “We have all his proposals in writing. Spababies was and always will be the brainchild of Ryan Oakes and Michael Ward. We have substantial evidence.”

  “We have a taped conversation,” Kyle said. He sank back into his chair, content to let that information marinate.

  Ryan froze. Questions rushed through his mind. Was that legal? He tried to replay in his head many of their conversations and couldn’t think of anything he could have said to Jackson that would make the other man feel as if he owed him something.

  Ryan loosened his tie.

  Kyle must have seen his discomfort and offered Ryan a cup of water. “Do you need to take a break?”

  When Ryan looked at him, he saw a snake smiling back at him. Ryan shook his head. Kyle needed salvation.

  “Ms. Stevens, I would like to schedule another meeting,” Nigel said. “I need time to review this taped conversation and consult with my client.”

  “Fair enough.” Eloise snapped her Coach bag open and took out her iPad. With quick sweeps, she had her calendar open. “We will meet again at nine forty-five in two weeks.” She faced Kyle. “Mr. Manchester, please submit a copy of the recording to my office before then.” She packed up her case and belongings and departed.

  “See you soon,” Kyle chuckled.

  Jackson scrambled behind him.

  Ryan and Nigel walked out of the office into the heat. Ryan squinted against the sun. “That was unexpected.”

  “It will work out. Let’s talk in a couple of days,” Nigel assured him with a pat on the back. He pulled out his phone and began rapping orders to someone on the other end.

  Ryan entered his Navigator. He rested his head on the steering wheel. If he didn’t squash this thing with Jackson, his name would be plastered all over the news. He groaned. It seemed as if since he had given his life to God, his entire life had nosedived. Ryan had put his life into God’s hands, so why did he feel as if he was the devil’s plaything?

  Maybe it was time Ryan played the devil’s game his way.

  He reached over and opened the glove compartment and swished the contents around until he located the small business card. It was Frank’s contact information. Ryan grabbed the card. He tapped the card against the steering column.

  Jackson wasn’t playing nice, and Ryan was tired of being the harmless Christian. He was among wolves, and he wasn’t about to bleat with the sheep. Making up his mind, he tightened his resolve. He might have lost his wife. He might have lost his son.

  But the devil was not going to get his hands on Ryan’s money.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  In the privacy of her offices, Patricia admitted she was tired of crying. She had sobbed enough to fill the Hudson River. “Lord, what’s happening to my marriage?” she whispered. How had things between her and Ryan soured so quickly that he was breaking down doors?

  Mere weeks ago, they were snuggled in each other’s arms. Now she couldn’t stand for him to touch her.

  Seeing it was close to five p.m., she shut down her computer and reached for her purse. She hoped their meeting with Pastor Ward would help, but she felt tried. Tried and tested.

  Timothy saw her dragging her feet down the corridor toward the parking lot. He rushed over to her.

  Not now, Tim, she thought, but Patricia gave him a welcoming smile.

  “Where are you rushing off to?” he asked, lining up his step with hers.

  “I’m off to meet my husband and my pastor.”

  “I won’t keep you, then,” he said. He stopped and rested a hand on her shoulder.

  Patricia met his tender gaze.

  “I’m here too. I’ll have my phone with me if you need to talk, or text, or . . .”

  Patricia felt a light buzz where his hands rested on her shoulder. In a deft move, she sidestepped him to break contact. “Uh, thanks, Tim. I really appreciate that.”

  With a brisk nod, Patricia hastened her stride and made it inside her vehicle with a relieved sigh.

  The devil is using that man to shake me up. Patricia knew it, but she was surprised at how easy her body could betray her. She had to be careful to keep herself under subjection. A verse from James shouted into her spirit, “Resist the devil and he will flee from you.”

  Yes, that’s what she had to do. That’s what she would do. After a brief prayer for strength, Patricia navigated her way through the rush-hour crowd to Zion’s Hill Baptist.

  Ryan and Pastor’s cars were in the lot when she arrived.

  She exited the vehicle. As she made a step, her heel twisted, and Patricia had to grab the door to keep from falling. She attributed her clumsiness to her crowded mind. Patricia took a tentative step on her foot. She groaned. Her left ankle hurt. Hobbling, she made her way into the building.

  Her foot throbbed as she picked her way to Pastor Ward’s office with extreme caution. Greeting the two men, she fell into a chair.

  “I twisted my ankle in the parking lot,” she offered by way of explanation. She lifted her left leg.

  Ryan bent to hold her foot. “Honey, I hope you’re okay.”

  “It might be a slight sprain, but it’s not broken,” she said. For the first time in days, Patricia and Ryan shared a smile. She reached out to touch his forehead.

  During all of this, Pastor Ward jumped from his desk and snagged another chair from the hallway so she could prop up her foot. “Should I get you some ice?”

  Patricia waved him off. “I’ll take care of it once we’re done.”

  “I’ll get it.” Ryan rushed off in the direction of the kitchen.

  Once he returned with a Ziploc bag filled with ice, Patricia placed the cold compress on her left foot. It felt better already.

  “We can put this off,” Pastor Ward said.

  “No,” she replied. “It’ll take more than a hurt ankle to slow me down. Besides, Ryan and I really need this session.”

  From the corner of her eye, Patricia saw Ryan straighten. “I broke a door in our house last night.”

  Pastor Ward’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “Let’s begin with prayer then. Lord, we invite your presence in at this time . . .”

  Patricia listened with half an ear. She adjusted the ice on her ankle as quietly as she could, saying the “Amen” in tune with everyone else when the prayer concluded.

  “Okay, Ryan, care to elaborate?” Pastor Ward asked.

  “Patricia refuses to sleep with me,” Ryan said. “First, she was sleeping in Brian’s room, and then she relocated to the guest room. I couldn’t take one more night of her sleeping in there. I need her next to me.”

  Wow, Ryan had made her the bad guy in less than ten seconds!

  Pastor Ward gave her a nod. “Why don’t you tell me how this all got started?”

  Patricia backtracked to the beginning. “I don’t sleep in there all the time. I sleep in there sometimes because of his teeth grinding. Ryan doesn’t know it, but he does that whenever something is bothering him. I asked him so many times what was wrong, but he wouldn’t say. Then, finally, he tells me Karlie might be his daughter.” She tilted her head toward Ryan. “And for the record, I’m not the only one refusing intimacy. He’s shunned me too.”

  Pastor Ward nodded. “You said Ryan told you Karlie might be his daughter. How did you feel hearing that?”

  Ryan jumped in. “Turns out she already knew. I can’t believe she knew all this time, Pastor, and didn’t tell me.”

  “Yes, I knew!” Patricia snarled. “I told you why I didn’t say anything. Why are yo
u trying to make me look disgraceful before our pastor? That’s not what I’m mad about, and you know it.”

  Ryan puffed his chest. “I told you why I tried to sabotage Brian and Karlie. I couldn’t afford them getting together when I know they’re related.”

  “You could have killed them!” she screamed. “They were dunked into an alligator-infested river. How’s that sabotage? That’s attempted murder!”

  Ryan sailed to his feet. “Are you calling me a murderer?”

  By this time, the ice on her leg had started to melt. Patricia curved over to fetch the Ziploc, but Ryan beat her to it. His fingers grazed her leg. Like a jolt, electricity shot through her being. She squirmed but wasn’t about to succumb to any attraction. Patricia folded her arms about her chest, cutting her eyes at him.

  She glared at Pastor Ward. “Are you going to say anything, or are you content with being a fly on the wall while we bicker?”

  Ryan’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “I can’t believe you just talked to the man of God like that. You have no respect at all.”

  Patricia bit her tongue to keep from telling Ryan off. She hated that he was right. She had disrespected Pastor Ward, who was only trying to help. She couldn’t believe she had sassed the pastor out.

  Patricia lowered her lashes. “I’m sorry for snapping at you, Pastor. I’m just frustrated.” She shook her head. “I don’t even know how Ryan and I got to this point.”

  Pastor Ward nodded. “I’m married myself, so I understand.” He motioned for Ryan to settle into his chair.

  The warmth their pastor exuded made her eyes water. Patricia wiped her face with the back of her hand.

  “There’s only one person who loves to create division, and that’s the devil,” Pastor Ward said. “He is your enemy. He’s using both of your fears to interfere with your relationship. You both have to decide if you’re going to lie back and let the devil win. He’s having a party while you’re in misery.”

  “I love Patricia,” Ryan said. “I’ve never loved another woman the way I love her, and there won’t be another for me. I’m sorry I slept with Tiffany all those years ago. If I hadn’t, then none of this would be happening right now.”

  Patricia swished her head to face him. “Is that the real reason you didn’t claim Karlie as your own? That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Ryan, that happened over two decades ago. I forgave you a long time ago. I’m not even sweating that issue.”

  Ryan lowered his head. “I couldn’t forgive myself. Then, when Anna died, I couldn’t bring Karlie into our home.”

  “I would have welcomed her,” Patricia cried. “You don’t know how much I wanted Karlie to be yours—both of ours. I wanted a daughter to replace the one I lost.”

  “I take it you lost a child,” Pastor Ward said.

  Ryan gave Pastor a look because Pastor knew that already. Pastor gave Ryan the eye. Ryan nodded with understanding. Pastor knew Patricia needed to share her pain.

  Patricia nodded. She touched her womb. “I lost her at four months.”

  “I’ve made a mess of things, haven’t I?” Ryan asked. He reached for Patricia’s hand. “Honey, I’m so sorry. Please, forgive me.”

  “I’m sorry too,” Patricia said. “You’re not the only one who’s done wrong. At least you’re trying to own up to it.” She surprised herself with her choice of words, but Patricia quickly recovered.

  “God has forgiven you, Ryan,” Pastor Ward said. “Your wife has forgiven you. It’s time you forgave yourself.”

  Ryan’s chest heaved as his emotions let loose. Patricia felt compassionate, but it wasn’t enough to soften her heart fully. Pastor pushed the tissue box in his direction.

  “Patricia, what happened when you told Karlie and Brian?” Pastor Ward asked.

  “They were both upset,” she said. “I think they’re battling . . . feelings for each other.”

  Pastor Ward’s right eyebrow arched. “Oh.”

  “Yes . . . oh,” Patricia said.

  “Brian hates me, and Karlie has disappeared,” Ryan added. “No one has seen or heard from her for about two weeks now.”

  “I’m sure Brian is angry, but he doesn’t hate you,” Pastor Ward said. “Give Karlie time. She’ll come around.”

  “We have to do a paternity test to make sure,” Patricia said. “Though we believe in our hearts Karlie is Ryan’s daughter.”

  “That’s understandable,” Pastor Ward said. He asked Ryan and Patricia to join hands. “Lord, I come before your presence asking for your love, mercy, and grace to be present among us tonight. The devil desires to destroy marriages, but that is not your plan. I ask that you will increase Ryan and Patricia’s love for each other. Help them unite and face whatever lies ahead. Strengthen their bond, Lord. Please forgive them for the many ways in which they have failed you, and I ask that you throw it in the sea of forgetfulness, so that they will be even stronger than before. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”

  Then he made both Ryan and Patricia pray. Ryan said, “Lord, thank you for giving me the courage to tell my truth. Thank you for loving me in spite of all my faults. I ask, Lord, that you renew my heart and my mind. Help me to live for you as I should. Amen.”

  Patricia was next. “Lord, give me more love for my husband. Help me to stand by his side. Forgive him—no, forgive us of our lies and deception. Wash us and make us clean again, Lord. Cover us with your blood. Help me to be the Christian I need to be, all the time to everyone around me. Amen.”

  As they shouted praises, Patricia felt the pain in her heart recede. Ryan praised God for forgiveness.

  When they were done, Ryan said, “We’re ready for anything.”

  Patricia smiled and nodded, but she wasn’t as convinced. It would take serious praying and fasting to fix their home.

  “You can’t rush Brian or Karlie’s forgiveness, but you can do something about yourselves,” Pastor Ward advised. “You both can work on your marriage and build a united front, so when Karlie or Brian wants to talk, you’re standing to face them together.”

  “Together,” Patricia repeated, although she was not fully sure.

  Pastor Ward gave her a wide smile of encouragement, and a heat rocked her body. She drew in a breath. What in blue blazes was wrong with her that a man only had to touch her or smile at her and she was . . . excited?

  Patricia looked away from the brilliance of Pastor Ward’s white teeth. Her gaze collided with her husband’s piercing eyes. Had Ryan seen her reaction just now? She broke eye contact and shifted.

  What was going on with her?

  Chapter Thirty

  “As much as I’ve enjoyed having you, I think it’s time you called your father,” Merle said, entering the family room with two ice-cream sundaes.

  “Did you put on extra caramel like I like?” Karlie asked, reaching for the treat.

  “Of course. That’s what grandmothers do. Spoil you rotten.” Merle handed Karlie hers and placed the tray on the cherry coffee table. She picked up her own sundae and spoon.

  Karlie smiled, curling her legs under the printed empire sofa. She had been staying with Merle at her home on Edward Street in Baldwin just over a month, yet she could not get used to viewing her as a grandmother. Karlie called her Merle, Ms. Merle, hey—anything but Grandma. She did enjoy their chats. Merle was proving to be a good listener. Karlie had arrived on her doorstep, heartbroken and confused. Merle had nurtured her, and now Karlie felt like herself again.

  Merle had not pushed Karlie for information. She had taken care of her. This was the first time Merle had even mentioned her adopted family.

  Merle took two bites of her ice cream. “Do you plan on calling Neil?”

  “Yes, I do.” Karlie sighed. She scooped some more of her sundae. “I also plan on leaving.”

  “Leaving?”

  Karlie nodded. “I can’t stay here with you forever.”

  Merle bit her lip. “I understand. I . . . I hope we won’t lose our connection.”

 
; “We won’t. We’re blood. Nothing can change that.”

  “Are you coming to Bible study with me tonight?”

  Karlie scrunched her nose. Her grandmother went to church almost every day. Merle hadn’t been kidding when she said she had gotten religion. Karlie tagged along to each of the services, but tonight she needed a break.

  “If it’s all right with you, I’m going to chill out here,” she said, finishing the last of her sundae.

  Karlie could use some alone time. Sometimes Merle freaked her out when she stared at her for no reason. “You look so much like Tiffany, I think I’m talking to her,” Merle would say. Karlie did bear a strong resemblance to her mother. She was Tiffany’s mini-me, but she was very much herself.

  Merle gave a tentative nod. She busied herself by gathering their spoons and bowls. When Karlie moved to help, Merle waved her off. “I’m making up for lost time.” She moved to the doorway and looked back at Karlie.

  “What is it?” Karlie asked.

  “Will you be here when I get back?”

  “Yes. I wouldn’t leave without thanking you.” She gave her grandmother a tender smile.

  Satisfied with her response, Merle left the room.

  Karlie eyed the vacant spot for several minutes. She puttered around the three-bedroom house before settling back into the family room. The plush printed couch had become her favorite sitting spot. The mustard-colored walls soothed her.

  Then out of nowhere, a strange feeling assaulted her being. An urgent desire rose from deep within her. Overcome, Karlie opened her mouth and exhaled.

  Flashing her hands, Karlie released staccato breaths. She wanted to sing. Needed to, actually. She hadn’t felt that churning inside since Ryan tilted her world with his news. She shrieked with excitement, and in a flash, she was on her iPod and on Google. She plugged in some words.

  Within seconds, the lyrics to “Just a Closer Walk with Thee” flashed on her screen. Karlie practiced a few notes. She listened to variations of the song on YouTube several times. The first verse in particular resonated with her. Tears rolled down her face.