Aunt Cee-Cee stood up. “If you’re not going to help me, then I don’t want to hear this junk. I don’t care about hearing anything about Jesus or your Lord and Savior. We need a thousand dollars in order to move into this place your uncle found for us. Can you loan me that so we can get out of here?”
Gabrielle laughed. “Whether I can or not, let me be honest with you. I’m not. And the reason is not because I’m mad at you, or I haven’t forgiven you, or that I’m trying to make you pay for something from the past. It’s not even because I know, like the money I’ve already loaned you, I’ll probably never see it again. It’s because God is not leading me to do any such thing. And not to sound insensitive, but if you really need money, I think you should talk to Jesse about taking that wonderful new stereo system he just bought back to the store for a refund. Then all of you need to pray to God for some wisdom, because some of the things you’re repeatedly doing are never going to lead you back on the right track.”
“All I asked you for was to borrow some money. If you’re not going to do that, then frankly, you can keep your unsolicited advice to yourself.” Aunt Cee-Cee started to walk away. “One day, when you need us, I can only hope that I treat you a lot better than you’ve treated us these past several days. Good-bye, Gabrielle. You won’t have us to be kicking around any longer. Me and mine are out of your place. And just so you’ll know: none of us liked being here anyway! It’s too restrictive.”
Gabrielle watched as they vacated her premises, thankful that only a few of her own possessions had managed to somehow make their way along with them.
Chapter 64
A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pictures of silver.
—Proverbs 25:11
After they were all gone, Gabrielle’s doorbell rang. When she opened the door, Zachary stood before her.
“Hi,” Zachary said.
“Hi.”
“I’m sorry for coming by without calling first,” he said. “I promise I won’t stay long since you’ve made it abundantly clear that you want some space between us.”
“It’s okay, you can come in.” Gabrielle opened the door so he could walk through. She closed the door and spun around to catch him looking around.
“It looks like a cyclone hit.”
“Yeah, my houseguests just vacated the premises about an hour ago. My maid will be here later to clean up. You know I have my own personal maid, don’t you?” she said, speaking of herself. “She’s really good, too.” She led Zachary to the kitchen. “I was about to make myself something to eat. I didn’t eat breakfast before I left for church. Then I came home to total chaos, and now this German shepherd . . . this pit bull inside of my stomach is growling and letting me know I need to eat something.”
“Would you like to go and get something? I haven’t eaten yet myself. In fact, I wanted to ask you out to dinner today, but I realize something different is going on between us, and you likely would have said no,” Zachary said. “I called you yesterday. Twice, in fact. You never returned either of my calls.”
“Yeah. I just got the messages this morning. My cousin liked talking on my phone, but she didn’t believe it was her job to take down or relay, in a timely manner, any messages from people who were calling for me on my phone. A phone that, incidentally, I rarely heard ring because she had her ear glued to it night and day.”
“Oh, see. Now that’s why people shouldn’t jump to conclusions without getting the full facts first. I was thinking you hadn’t called me back because you were letting me know you really weren’t interested in anything more with me.” Zachary stepped over to her and grabbed both of her hands. “Is there a chance we can move forward with us?”
“Zachary, I don’t want to do anything to hurt you . . . ever. And I don’t want anything from my past life to mess up your future life later on. It would kill me if, instead of being a blessing to you, I became a curse to both you and your career.”
“Those sound like words straight from Leslie Morgan’s lips. Gabrielle, I want you to know that I’m not giving up on us. You might think you’re going to walk away from me, but I’m telling you: I’m not letting the best thing that ever happened to me—after being saved, of course—get away from me without a fight.” Zachary pulled her over toward the kitchen table and, while still holding both her hands, he sat down, pulling her along with him.
“I have things in my own past that could hurt me. What am I supposed to do? Run away from myself? No, I realize that all of us have something we’re not proud of or that we know was a mistake. We can’t change our past, but the decisions we make now will impact our future. I am making the decision now to pursue you with every fiber in my body. Because years from now, I want my future to include you. I want us to be together . . . raising our own children to know and to love God just as much as, if not more than, us. I want us to grow old together . . . more in love, even than we are now.”
“You love me?” Gabrielle asked. She looked up, her eyes meeting his straight on.
He took a deep breath. “Gabrielle Mercedes, I love you so much that I can’t even think about a world . . . my world without you in it. I love you so much that I’m here now letting you know I’m not planning on going anywhere. Even if you tell me you’ve made up your mind, I want you to know that you are worth fighting for and that if I go, I’m not going away easily. I don’t care what you did in your past. I don’t care that you clean or have cleaned other people’s houses. I don’t even care that you’ve had a child and that you gave her up for adoption. Honestly, I admire you even more for doing that. You were thinking about that little girl and her future. All of these things are part of your past. What I do care about is that I’ve found you now, and that you love the Lord. I want to live my present and plan a future with you. And even though you have offended me greatly—”
“How have I offended you?”
“By telling me I don’t know what or who’s best for me. Or that I apparently make really bad decisions.”
“When did I do or say that?” Gabrielle asked with a frown.
“When you listened to my mother tell you that you should walk away from me, as though I don’t know what’s good for me. I found you, Gabrielle. Do you hear what I’m trying to tell you? I found you.” He touched her face. “And Proverbs 18:22 says, ‘Whoso findeth a wife findeth a good thing, and obtaineth favor of the Lord.’ Gabrielle, I believe you are my wife. At least, that’s the Word I hear from the Lord. We can play this courting game, but you and I both know there’s something strong between us. I want God’s favor in my life. And regardless of your past or mine, God has the final word. You want more time? Fine. I’m willing to step back and give you that time. But if you think I’m giving up on you completely or planning on not being there when you need or are looking for me, then you’re sadly mistaken, sadly mistaken.”
Gabrielle raised her hand slowly and touched the left side of his face. “I’d be a fool to walk away from you. And I’ve already done enough foolish things in my life. I want to walk in the steps just as God is ordaining them for me.”
“So what’s your heart telling you, Gabrielle? What do you hear the Holy Spirit saying to you right now?”
“To not let the devil talk me into walking away from the gift God has prepared for me. I’m hearing God say to let His Word be true and to let every word contrary to God’s Word be a lie. My past is my past. And your past is your past. But God doesn’t deal in time the way we do. And all that counts to Him is now. I hear God saying, faith is now.”
“Girl, you’d better stop this.” Zachary grinned. “Or else you’re going to cause me to get down on one knee right here, right now, and ask you for your hand in marriage.”
Gabrielle laughed. “Zachary, we’ll proceed with our courtship as we originally agreed. I really do want to get to know you better. The you that’s inside of here.” She placed her hand lovingly on his chest. “I can’t say whether later you and I will agree that we’re really supposed to be
together. But I’m going to trust God. I trust God, therefore I can trust Him to take care of whatever comes my way. And that includes the good and the bad. And speaking of good and bad, I’m scheduled to take a blood test to see if I’m a good match for my . . . for the little girl I gave up for adoption.”
“When are you scheduled to do that?”
“I’m calling tomorrow to set up a time. We’re doing things in a more secretive way. You know, because of the unique nature surrounding all of this. They won’t use my name, just assign me a special number. We’re trying to respect the adoption process we agreed on. I just pray I’m a match, because I want to do whatever I can to help her.”
“Well, there are generally six HLA markers. . . .” Zachary noticed the frown come across her face when he said HLA. “HLA is histocompatability antigens. They will take your blood and hers to compare HLA markers. That’s how they determine how great of a match you are. The more markers that match, the more likely the transplanted bone marrow will take without causing a severe immune reaction. When people want to be donors, they generally do a cheek swab initially to work up the numbers, then they perform a more in-depth blood test to match markers. Since they know you’re her birth mother and that you likely have some matches, they don’t need to do a swab. That’s why you’re doing the blood test at this point.”
“Plus, her mother said, they’re running out of time.” Gabrielle wiped away a tear from her eye. “I just want her to be all right. That’s all I want. And whatever I have to do to help her, I’m going to do it.”
“And if it turns out you’re not a good match?” Zachary said. “What are you prepared to do then?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, if you’re not a match, are you going to talk to her birth father to see if he’s willing to step up? Although, in truth, a sibling is generally an even greater match for other siblings. If he has other children, it’s possible one of them may be a match, even a perfect match, if neither of you are.”
“Well, I’m not going to ask for any more trouble than one day brings to me. One day at a time. And today, all that is before me is me being a match. I pray so much that I am. And if I am, I’ll gladly give the bone marrow without deliberation or hesitation. She’ll get well, and things will go back to normal. She’ll grow up in her loving home, I’ll keep working at improving my life, and everything will be right with the world again.” Gabrielle made a face as though she knew in her heart this was a lot to hope for.
“Well, let’s pray,” Zachary said. He held her hands as he prayed for the health of the little girl in need of a bone marrow transplant as well as the many others they didn’t know by name. He prayed for his aunt Esther, his family, Gabrielle’s family, and for peace and joy to multiply between the two of them and all those they cared about. He prayed for Pastor Landris, his family, their church family, and all elected officials.
“Now,” he said after he finished his prayer, “how about some dinner?”
“Can I have a rain check?” she said. “You saw this house when you came in. It’s going to take me the rest of the day, and then some, just to get it straight. I really don’t understand how folks can not respect other people’s property that they work so hard to get. I’m not worshipping my things, mind you. But I thank God for what I have, and I appreciate what He’s blessed me with. I want to be a good steward of what God has placed in my care.” She shook her head. “I just don’t get it.”
“I’ll tell you what. I’ll go and pick us up something to eat. Then I’ll help you clean up.”
“Careful there, Doctor Z. It looks like I may have already become a bad influence on you.”
“What? You think I don’t know how to clean a house? I know how to clean. I’m not above getting down and dirty. You show me to your mop, and it’s going to be on.” He grinned.
Gabrielle started laughing. “See, that proves you’re a fake. Who even uses a mop anymore?”
“Oops, my bad,” he said with a laugh. “So, are we back? Are you and I back together again?” He held out his hand as one waiting for another to give him five or accept an invitation for the next dance.
“We’re back,” she said, quietly slapping her hand into his.
He held on to her hand, then carefully . . . and lovingly . . . brought it up to his mouth and placed a soft and gentle kiss on it. Then quietly, he exhaled.
Chapter 65
If a man beget a hundred children, and live many years, so that the days of his years be many, and his soul be not filled with good, and also that he have no burial; I say, that an untimely birth is better than he.
—Ecclesiastes 6:3
Ransom Perdue was officially turning one hundred years old on Wednesday, November the fourth. Memory flew in from Asheville, North Carolina, on Tuesday so she would be in town for his actual birthday. The rest of Memory’s family would be arriving on Saturday, as was most of the family coming in for the party. Her being there alone worked out well because Memory was able to spend time with her father and sister Zenobia. Zenobia had called Memory shortly after her father told her about yet another sister. Only this daughter he’d never even known existed.
“Are there any more sisters or brothers we need to know about?” Zenobia had asked her father when he’d informed her about Arletha. She hadn’t been teasing, either, when she’d asked.
“None that I know of,” Gramps had said. “But then again, I was a little floored myself when I learned about Arletha.”
Memory had not been prepared to hear her newly discovered father tell her of his latest birth announcement. She knew he had two other children besides Zenobia from his only marriage. Zenobia had been excited about having a new sister, an older sister at that. Although, she had confessed to her sister, she would have liked it more had they grown up together. So when Zenobia had called and told Memory that their father wanted to talk to her about something, the last thing she expected to hear was that he’d just learned he’d fathered yet another child, another daughter, who it turns out was younger than Memory, yet older than his other children.
Memory couldn’t help but wonder why something like this would come out now. Most folks come forward when a person dies and they feel there’s an inheritance to be claimed. Maybe this was yet a ploy constructed by Montgomery Powell the Second in his attempt to try to take some of Sarah’s properties away from her. Maybe Montgomery had learned that Ransom Perdue was alive and that she and he had connected after all these years. Maybe he was setting Ransom up to ask for something to give to this daughter . . . something Montgomery wanted to get his hands on. It wouldn’t be beneath him to use a real or even fictitious sibling or family member to get what he wanted.
Of course, Memory didn’t share her initial thoughts with her father. She just listened and let him tell her his version of things. How he hadn’t known the child even existed, as though it was important that Memory understand he was never, and never would have been, a deadbeat father—ever. In her case, she understood that none of the things that happened was his fault. With this new daughter, he started out by letting Memory know that he’d never even been told she existed. And his finding out now was totally an act of God, revealing the truth no matter how long it may have been coming.
He told Memory how he’d met her and been convinced beyond any doubt that she was indeed his child—no DNA test would be necessary. In truth, it would have been an insult to both of them had either one requested one be performed.
Memory told her father she looked forward to meeting this new sister at his birthday celebration, along with her other two brothers she had yet to meet.
“Well, here’s the funny thing,” Gramps said. “From all she done told me since we talked, you and she have already met. She said you two already know each other.”
Memory was puzzled about that. She thought about her various travels around the country when she was running from her shady life’s dealings before she put away childish things and got her life together
by giving her life to the Lord. Was this someone she had crossed or wronged in her life? Was her sister someone she would have to ask for forgiveness for something she’d done? And if so, would her sister forgive her?
“Who is she? What’s her name?” Memory asked.
“Arletha Black. That was her birth name. She said you knew her as Arletha Brown. Says the two of you actually lived together for a spell when you lived here in Birmingham. Small world, ain’t it?” He chuckled.
Memory tried to laugh back, but she couldn’t. “Arletha Brown? My sister is Arletha Brown? Are you sure this isn’t some trick? Because I hope you know that Montgomery Powell and his crew will stop at nothing to try to bring us down.”
“Memory, there is no doubt that Arletha is my daughter. The truth is the light. And the truth always comes to light. No matter how well folks think a thing is hidden, the truth is gonna make its way to the light one way or another. Arletha is mine, just like you’re mine, and Zenobia is mine. You’re all sisters, all of you. You and Arletha are sisters just like you and Zenobia are. You had no problem accepting Zenobia, nor she with you. Now, when you come for my birthday, I’ll get to introduce the two of you as blood.”
When Memory hung up, she stared at the phone. She thought about how Arletha had treated her when she’d stayed with her. How she had been so judgmental. How she had threatened to turn her in to some guy who was looking for her. How she’d taken her to the church—Followers of Jesus Faith Worship Center, in fact—and dumped her off at the front door without even a second thought, merely because she was trying to live right and Arletha disagreed with her choice of churches.
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