“Sounds like an attack to me. But since you’re talking about the natural, what did Emmitt do?”
Charity pushed her rice around the plate with her fork as she spoke. “When he dropped off Xavier yesterday, he didn’t come alone.” She looked up at her best friend. “He had a girl waiting in the car for him.”
“That don’t mean nothing,” said April.
Charity could only imagine what kind of expression was on her face.
April continued, “The enemy ain’t gonna just give you your husband back. You’re gonna have to take him. The Bible says the kingdom of God suffereth violence and the violent taketh by force.”
Charity made direct eye contact with April. “So when I take him by force, do I take his one-year-old daughter, Destiny, too?”
April’s mouth dropped wide open. She grabbed Charity’s hands. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“Me too.”
The two sat in silence and just held hands. Finally, April prayed and asked God to strengthen Charity and give her wisdom. She prayed protection over her emotional well-being and upon her spirit. Then she prayed for herself, asking God to give her the right words to say and to be a source of encouragement.
“Amen,” they verbalized their agreement to the prayer in unison.
Charity used a napkin to wipe the tears that rested on her cheek. “Thank you for that prayer.”
“Please. That’s the least I can do.”
“It means more than you know. So,” Charity changed the subject. “Has Minister Adams made any moves yet?”
“No, nada, nothing. All he does is speak and keep going.”
“Have you thought about saying anything to him?”
“A woman is to be found, not to find.”
“I know, but the least you can do is unearth yourself,” Charity giggled. “Would you like for me to hook you up?”
“No, I’m still recovering from the trauma of your last hookup. Matchmaking is not your forte.”
“Well, let me just introduce you two. I want to start letting people know how blessed I am to have you as a friend.”
“No, it’s the other way around. After church yesterday, I was proud to say that I was your best friend. You had the whole church up worshipping God. The good reverend doctors have never been able to do that.”
“And, they are not happy campers right now.”
“So?”
“Like I need to ruffle feathers in the church. The glass ceiling for women is thicker in the church than it is in the workplace.”
“The way Pastor was talking in that church meeting, some things are getting ready to change. You better get prayed up because I believe you are going to play a major role in it.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Iesha was still beaming and replaying everything in her mind that Wallace said and did at lunch. She flitted around the office suite straightening up the magazines in the waiting area, cleaning up the coffee area, and neatly arranging the papers on her desk. She was sure that today was one of the best days of her life. She had met a man who was different from the men she usually attracted. To her that was a sign that she was really changing.
Sha-Lai’s and Raquan’s fathers both were what she called “roughnecks.” They were a challenge to get, hard to keep, and almost impossible to get rid of. Just last week, a man in a pair of jeans with a sag low enough to display the contour of his muscled behind would’ve had her slobbering at the mouth. But that was until she met Wallace. She didn’t know a man could look so sexy in a suit. As far as she was concerned a roughneck could never pronounce her name in the same way a brother in a suit could. Wallace pronounced her name as I-e-sha. It sounded like music compared to the one syllable she was used to hearing. Iesha.
The ring of the telephone reminded her that she was at work.
“Horizons Counseling Center, this is Iesha… Yes, I’m Sha-Lai Brown’s mother. How can I help you?… Sick? Is she all right?… Oh, good,” she said in relief. She looked up to acknowledge Charity coming in from lunch.
“Another appointment?” Charity mouthed with a look of excitement on her face.
Iesha shook her head and scribbled a note that it was the school’s guidance counselor. “Uhm mum… Yes ma’am, physical discipline?… Yes, I do physically discipline my children but…”
Iesha saw Charity’s expression. She’d gotten on Iesha many times for putting her hands on Sha-Lai and Raquan. Iesha now wished she had listened.
Iesha looked at her watch. “Yes, ma’am. I can be there at three… I would like for y’all to know that I don’t abuse my children. I just made a mistake. Me and my daughter talked about it right after it happened. So, I would appreciate it if you—”
“Hello, ma’am?” Charity took the phone from Iesha, who was crying and raising her voice. “My name is Charity Phillips. I’m Ms. Brown’s sister. She is really upset right now, is there any way I can help?… Yes, ma’am… Okay, I’ll have her there at three.”
Charity hung up the phone. “Do you want me to get Harmony to take my one o’clock?”
“No,” Iesha said blowing her nose. “Harmony’s not back from lunch and this is your one o’clock coming in now. I’ll be all right. I’mma call and talk to Momma.”
“You sure you want to call Momma right now? I can get out of my session if you want to talk.”
“You’re right, calling Momma’s the last thing I need to do. I’mma just go to the bathroom and get myself together.”
Charity grabbed her sister’s hands, hoping Iesha would receive the same strength Charity had just received from April. “Okay, but don’t go anywhere. I’ll be free to talk after my session. Do you think talking to Harmony might help?”
Iesha forced a smile. “Girl, don’t make me cuss.”
Iesha handed the client a clipboard, and Charity went to her office to pray that God would use the situation to draw Iesha closer to Him and not drive her farther away.
Chapter 9
CHARITY AND IESHA WERE ON THEIR WAY OUT THE DOOR when Iesha asked if she should let Harmony know they were leaving.
“Is she in session right now?” Charity asked.
“No. I think her next appointment isn’t until three o’clock.”
“I’m going to warm up the car. Will you run back there and tell her to lock up when she is done? Let her know that you’re riding with me and that your car is still out front.”
Iesha knocked on Harmony’s door. When she did not hear a response, she knocked again. She opened the door to get a piece of paper to leave a note on her chair.
Harmony was sitting Indian-style on a mat on the floor, with her eyes closed. Iesha couldn’t decide if she should disturb her. She knew that Charity didn’t like to be disturbed while she was praying. Then again, Charity doesn’t pray like this.
“Harmony?” When Harmony didn’t move, Iesha called her again, but louder. “Harmony?” Iesha walked slowly over to her and put her hand on her shoulder and yelled, “Harmony!”
Harmony jumped and Iesha screamed. “Why you didn’t answer me?”
“I didn’t hear you. I was meditating.”
“I called you three times. Seemed like you were in a freaking trance or something. You scared me.”
“I’m sorry,” Harmony said, pushing herself up off the mat. “I’m preparing for the workshop I’m giving this evening, ‘Change Your Mind, Change Your Life.’”
Iesha shook her head. “Whatever. I’m just glad I didn’t walk up on a dead body. Charity sent me in here to tell you that she’s leaving with me, so you’ll have to lock up. My car’s out front, I’ll pick it up later.”
“Okay. Tell Charity to say a prayer for me for the workshop tonight. I want to help my participants be all they can be.”
“What army are you enlisting them into?”
“The Lord’s army, of course. We all could use a little help finding joy and happiness in our everyday lives, grasping a hold of our higher selves, and tapping into our potent
ial within.”
Iesha shook her head and closed the door. That woman ain’t playing with a full deck of cards.
Charity and Iesha arrived at the school almost thirty minutes early. The drive had been completely silent except for small talk about the terrible way people in Charlotte drive. As much as Charity loved to talk and as much as she usually had to say as a minister and a therapist, she was at a loss for words. She had never seen Iesha look so somber.
“Do you want to talk?” Charity asked as she parked the car.
Iesha looked in the direction of the school. “I don’t know what to say. I just hope they don’t take my kids away.”
“I bind that up in the name of Jesus. My niece and nephew aren’t going anywhere. What exactly did they say to you?”
“Charity, look. On the way home from Momma’s I got to thinking about all that was said and done and I just…” She paused, trying to think of how she could explain what she meant. “I was just frustrated. Sha-Lai was whining about her head hurting. And I just hauled off and slapped her. The mark the school sees on her face is the print from these two rings.” She held up her hand for Charity to see. “Cherry, I don’t want to lose my kids.”
“Well, let’s pray about it.”
Iesha started crying again. “I can’t pray. I don’t feel right going to God just because I need something. I know He’s tired of my promising to do better if He’ll just get me outta this and get me outta that.”
“Iesha, that’s a lie from the pit of hell,” Charity said, retrieving some tissue out of her glove compartment for Iesha. “You have to trust God in this situation. He loves you and wants you to commit your life to Him. Give your life to Him, Iesha, He’s the only one who can help you out of this.”
“But if I come, I wanna come correct. I don’t want to break any more promises.”
“And you don’t have to. Remember earlier this morning? You said you were turning over a new leaf. Well, God heard your confession and He wants to help you do it. Without Him you can’t.” She took Iesha’s hands to pray. “If you could’ve done it by yourself, you would’ve done it already. Do you mind if I pray with you?”
“Yes, please pray for me. And while we’re at it, pray for me to be saved.”
Warm tears streamed down Charity’s cheeks. She let go of Iesha’s hands long enough to raise her hands to God in thanksgiving. She took her pocket Bible out of her purse and turned to Romans 10:9. “Iesha, salvation is a gift from God to us. It’s not something we have to earn or pay for. Jesus Christ paid the price for us on the cross more than two thousand years ago. Our salvation is based on Romans 10:9, read what it says here.”
Iesha leaned over and read the verse: “That if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised Him from the dead, thou shalt be saved.” She read it again silently. “That’s it?”
Charity nodded. “That’s it. We confess what we believe and we walk it out. If we believe that Jesus is Lord, we walk like we are under His reign. We live according to the way He does things, we have what He says we can have, we do what He says we can do, and we believe that we are who He says we are. And, we find all these things in His Word.” She held up the pocket Bible. “Are you ready to accept Christ as your Lord and personal Savior?”
Iesha took a deep breath. “Yes.”
“Good. I want you to repeat after me.” As soon as Iesha nodded, Charity saw tears roll down her cheeks. “Lord, I come to you in the name of Jesus… Your Word says in Acts 2:21… that whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord… shall be saved… I’m calling on You… I pray and ask Jesus to come into my heart… and be Lord over my life according to Romans 10:9… I confess that Jesus is Lord… and I believe in my heart that God raised Him from the dead . . . I am now reborn!… I am a Christian… I am saved.”
Charity and Iesha locked themselves in an embrace and comforted each other.
“We better go in,” Charity said, patting Iesha on the back. “Are you ready?”
Iesha looked at the clock. “As ready as I can be.” She pulled down the mirror on the passenger’s visor. “I look rough.”
“No, you look like a concerned mother.”
They walked toward the elementary school building. Not even the winter chill could speed them up. They followed the signs to the office.
“Good afternoon, ma’am,” Charity approached the heavyset white woman at the desk. “I’m Charity Phillips, here with my sister Iesha Brown. We’re here for a three o’clock appointment concerning Sha-Lai Brown.”
The woman smiled slightly, or slightly frowned. Her expression was difficult to read. “Oh yes. The conference room is right this way,” she pushed herself up off the chair to lead them around the corner. She led them into a room where six people were already seated. A short, brown-skinned gentleman with a balding head and a wide smile stood with his hand extended to Charity, as she was the first to walk into the room.
“I’m Mr. Robinson, the principal here at Thomasboro.”
Charity accepted his gesture. “I’m Charity Phillips. I’m here with my sister Iesha Brown.” She looked over her shoulder at Iesha.
Iesha stepped forward to acknowledge Mr. Robinson but refused his handshake. “Where’re my kids?”
“They’re next door working on their homework. They—”
Iesha turned toward the door. The people who were seated stood simultaneously like the mob squad. Mr. Robinson held his hand out to stop her. “They are expecting you after this meeting is over.”
Iesha dusted his hand off of her. “Well, let’s hurry up and get this over with then.”
The others sat down. Mr. Robinson pulled out two chairs for them to join the others at the table. “Please have a seat.”
Iesha locked her knees. “I don’t want to sit down.”
Charity whispered in her ear. “You sit. I’ll talk.”
Iesha looked intently at each person in the room. She sat down with her arms folded across her chest.
“Mr. Robinson,” Charity said, breaking the silence. “Will you please explain to us what is going on?”
He cleared his throat. “Yes, but before we get started, I’ll go around the table so these folks can introduce themselves?” he said, directing his attention to the five people who were with him.
A middle-aged white woman with a blond Halle Berry haircut spoke up. “I’m Mrs. Sauvain, the school’s nurse.”
Charity liked the iridescent fuchsia shirt the woman wore who spoke next. “I’m Ms. Tuttle. We spoke earlier.” She blinked her eyes a few times and then took her glasses off. She pulled at her eyelashes, like one was stuck in her eye. “I’m the guidance counselor,” she said, still messing with her eye.
“Hello, Ms. Brown.” Charity smiled. It was good to see a black woman at the table, she knew she’d be on their side. “I’m Sha-Lai’s teacher, Mrs. Davis.”
“I’m Mr. Mance… Raquan’s teacher,” offered a white man with a few gray strands moussed over to one side of his balding head.
Charity and Iesha looked at each other with the same question on their faces. Charity’s facial expression told Iesha that she did not know why he was there either.
“Ms. Brown,” the woman in the last seat called. “I’m Dawn Styre. I’m a social worker from the Mecklenburg County Department of Social Services.”
“Lord, have mercy,” Charity whispered, and shook her head.
Iesha frowned and leaned forward in the chair. “DSS? How y’all gone call DSS on me?” she asked as she slammed her fist against the table. “I have not abused my children.”
“Iesha, please.” Charity turned to whisper to her sister. “Don’t give them what they’re looking for. Calm down.” She turned to the principal, “Mr. Robinson, we can understand a conference being called to address the situation, but why has DSS been involved?”
“In the state of North Carolina, the law obligates any citizen to report to DSS any case in which they suspect a child
is being abused. Mrs. Davis noticed a mark on Sha-Lai’s face this morning, and when she asked her about it, Sha-Lai told her that she had been fighting with her younger brother. In less than an hour, Sha-Lai complained that her head was hurting and was sent to see Mrs. Sauvain, the nurse. Mrs. Sauvain inquired about the mark as well. Sha-Lai told her that you ‘messed around and slapped her on accident.’ When the nurse talked with Sha-Lai’s teacher, they realized they’d gotten two different stories. That’s when Ms. Tuttle, the guidance counselor, was called. And then DSS was called.”
“Okay but—” Iesha started.
“That’s understandable,” Charity said, cutting off Iesha. She thought it would be best if Iesha remained quiet. “But why is Raquan’s teacher here?”
Iesha nodded to let Charity know that she was going to ask the same question.
The social worker answered. “Once a report is made, we begin an investigation. That just means we gather as much information as we can. We start with the school and then the parents. In cases where there is more than one child in the home, our investigation includes them as well.”
The guidance counselor added, “To aid the investigation, the school provides information that in many cases helps the parents. We submit attendance records, the child’s grades, parent-teacher conference reports, anything we can find with hopes that it will paint a favorable picture for the family.”
Charity could tell that Iesha did not trust the guidance counselor. “So, have you already started getting information or is that what we’re here for?”
“Yes, to both of those questions,” the guidance counselor answered.
Iesha snapped, “Well, did what you turn over to DSS paint a favorable picture?”
The social worker intervened. “Ms. Brown, I can understand your frustration right now. Let me assure you that the Department of Social Services is not interested in taking away your children. Our goal is to thoroughly investigate reported cases of abuse to make sure that the children are safe. In a very large percentage of cases reported to us, abuse is not substantiated and the cases are closed just as quickly as they were opened. But I need you to cooperate with me if you want your case to be one of them.”
Good to Me Page 9