Secrets of a Sinner

by Yolonda Tonette Sanders

  “Well, first thing I suggest you do is be honest with people when you call them.”

  “I know. Again, I’m sorry. So you don’t know where she is?”

  “No, I don’t. I’m worried about her, though.”

  “Yeah, I am, too.”

  “So you’re not buying the whole family-emergency story?”

  “No.”

  “Me, neither. Dennison is really picky about people providing documentation for emergency leave. We can take up to two weeks, but you’d better have documentation to back your story or you’ll risk losing your job. I would hate to see something like that happen to Natalie. She’s been going through so much lately.”

  “If I give you my cell phone number, will you call me if you hear from her?”

  “I—I don’t know about that.” Aneetra hesitated. “I wouldn’t feel right calling you behind her back. If she didn’t tell you where she was going then she must not want you to know.”

  There was something in Aneetra’s voice that made Troy wonder if she’d known Natalie had been pregnant, but he didn’t call her on it.

  “But,” Aneetra continued, “I will tell her that you’re looking for her. If you happen to speak with her before I do, will you ask her to call me?”

  “Yes, I will. I promise,” Troy pledged. “I’m gonna let you go. I’m really sorry about calling your house this late.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Your heart seems to be in the right place.”

  “It is. I just want to find Natalie.”

  “Try your best to relax. I’m sure she’ll contact you eventually.”

  “I hope so.” Frustrated by the lack of information his investigative efforts had yielded, Troy slumped down in the chair at Natalie’s desk. He felt solely responsible for her actions. He noticed that a sheet of paper wasn’t lying flat on the desk, and he picked it up. It was a poem. The title, “My Secret,” drew him into reading its contents:

  When I look in the mirror, what do I see? Someone who doesn’t like to look back at me.

  I close my eyes so very fast; I open them back up and see my past.

  If only I could turn back the hands of time, I’d fix all those things that now weigh on my mind.

  Taking a trip down memory lane, I see things I did which I now think are insane.

  There was a man who had been my first. That experience was by far my worst.

  I was so young and very naïve, he planted the seed and I conceived.

  What age you ask? I may never reveal; it’s between God and me, my lips are sealed.

  Now another one is gone, what shall I do? A little voice suggested popping a pill or two.

  I must admit that I am very close to riding on the freeway of overdose.

  But I got scared and began to cry, I don’t know if I am really ready to die.

  Tears formed in Troy’s eyes. She was obviously hurting. This poem seemed to be a cry for help. He wanted to find her so badly. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and comfort her. He would apologize for being such a jerk when he found out about the pregnancy. If only he knew where to find her....

  Troy folded the poem and put it in his back pocket. He didn’t know why he was taking it. Nothing made sense anymore...her letter, his reaction, the poem. He had more questions than he had answers. He pulled out his cell phone and tried to call Natalie on hers. Once again, he got her voice mail. With a trembling voice, he began speaking. “Um...Nat...it’s Troy. I really need you to call me. I got your letter today. Please call me. I just want to know you’re okay.”

  Chapter 22

  Always Welcome

  Natalie lay on her back in the queen-size bed of the small roadside hotel in Tennessee where she’d been secluded. She was now about halfway to Mississippi and planned to get up first thing tomorrow morning to complete the trip. She needed some time to think things through and get over her fears about facing the unknown. She hoped that after all these years her story wasn’t still making headlines in the community, but she wondered if the whispers of people who had unfairly labeled her as promiscuous could still be heard.

  Her cell phone rang, interrupting her thoughts. Troy’s cell phone number flashed across her display screen, so she didn’t answer it. A few moments later it beeped, indicating that he had left her a voice message. She listened to it and noted that he’d gotten her letter, but she didn’t call him back. She didn’t want to talk to him. In fact, she felt stupid for letting her guard down and allowing herself to care about him. She had done a good job of not letting anyone through her defenses until she’d met Troy. Now she was paying dearly for the risk she had taken to love him. Talking to him wouldn’t change what had already happened, and he couldn’t help her with what she now needed to do.

  The next morning, Natalie awoke early to finish her journey. She studied her sad countenance in the mirror as she brushed her hair back into a ponytail. Staring back at her was a woman who had been scarred with deep emotional wounds that had never truly healed. It was as if life had enjoyed mocking her by not allowing her to have a normal childhood. First, she’d been traumatized by the death of her father when she was only five, then she’d witnessed her mother’s heartache brought on by her stepfather, Jesse, and to top it all off, when Natalie was thirteen, she had given birth to a child that had been given up for adoption.

  Instead of being concerned with normal adolescent issues like acne and peer pressure, her thoughts had been consumed with whether her baby had been a boy or a girl and with dealing with postpartum depression. As if all of that wasn’t enough, within weeks of the baby’s birth, her mother had ripped her from the only community she’d ever known and the two of them had moved to Ohio. At the time, Natalie had resented leaving Jackson. Now, however, she understood her mother’s actions and agreed that getting away was the best thing. Besides Sylvia, no one in Ohio knew the situation, and thus the stigma didn’t follow them. What haunted Natalie even more than the circumstances of her pregnancy was that she had given up her baby and had no clue what happened to it. Now she felt as if the only way truly to put the past behind her was to revisit the place where her past began.

  * * *

  It was sometime mid-Saturday afternoon when Natalie arrived in town. She passed her former elementary school on the way to her grandmother’s house and chuckled at the recollection of the time when she was in second grade and got into her first fight. Natalie had been standing in line, waiting her turn to ascend the stairs and go down the slide when a boy named Corey Daniels cut in front of her. When she told him that he needed to go to the back of the line, he responded by saying “yo’ mama,” and Natalie had hauled off and punched him in the stomach.

  Guilt immediately followed the amusement as she continued thinking about the incident. Believing that Corey Daniels had somehow disrespected her mother, Natalie had been quick to defend her honor on the playground. Yet, last year while her mother was in the hospital fighting for her life, she had been busy trying to seduce another woman’s husband.

  Natalie pulled up across the street from her grandmother’s house and she was about to step onto the paved street but decided to wait when she saw a young, slender girl with long copper-brown hair get out of a charcoal, four-door Nissan Altima and go in. Her stomach churned from a combination of nervousness and hunger as she sat back in her car and waited. She assumed the girl would not be there long since there was a female passenger in the front seat. She jumped when her cell phone rang. It was Troy...again. She had originally left her cell phone on in the event her grandmother had tried to reach her, but since she was here now, there was no point in having it on, so she turned it off.

  Looking around, Natalie noticed how little the neighborhood had changed. Besides a few updates, the house was just as she remembered it: dark-red brick siding and concrete steps leading to the covered front porch. Down th
e street was the beauty shop, and across from it the drug store where she and her cousins would buy candy. The memory of her grandmother reaching into her bra and pulling out a rolled wad of cash was still amusing.

  Natalie remained in her car for about fifteen minutes before the girl came out and got back in her car. She waited until the car was no longer in sight before stepping out of her own vehicle. The weather in Jackson was much warmer than in Columbus. Her navy-blue cardigan had been all she needed to keep warm the further south she drove. She opened the wire gate in the fence surrounding the property and crept up the stairs. With shaky hands she knocked on the door. “Just a minute,” she heard her grandmother call out. Within seconds, the door opened and the big-chested, full-figured, gray-haired woman she called Big Mama stood there.

  “Hi...” Natalie said with a faint smile.

  “Oh my land!” Big Mama’s eyes immediately filled with tears. “Natalie...” she whispered and embraced her tightly.

  “I wasn’t sure that you’d recognize me...”

  “You think ’cuz you’re all grown up now, I wouldn’t know my own grandbaby?” Ida Mae smiled adoringly.

  “I hope you don’t mind...I should’ve called first. My apartment is being fumigated and I thought it’d be nice to come down for a visit...you know...just to say hi...face to face.” Natalie was getting teary-eyed herself.

  “You know I don’t mind. You’re always welcome here.” She hugged Natalie again. “Where’s your stuff? I know you didn’t drive down here empty-handed?”

  “No, I left everything in the car.”

  “Go get it and bring it in. I’ll go ahead and get some food started.”

  “Big Mama, that’s okay. I can run and get something real quick.”

  Ida Mae shooed Natalie with her hand. “Nonsense! You ain’t gotta go nowhere for nothin’. Just get your stuff, then c’mon in and make yourself at home,” she ordered, walking back inside.

  Natalie obediently started back to her car to retrieve her luggage as Big Mama’s words—make yourself at home—sank into her spirit. Though her overall experience in Jackson hadn’t been good, Natalie recalled many wonderful memories about being at her grandmother’s house. A few tears spilled from her eyes as she thought about how good it felt to be home.

  Chapter 23

  The God Thing

  With her luggage in hand, Natalie stood at the front door for a moment scanning the living room. Though the decor had changed quite a bit, Natalie still felt a sense of familiarity. She hadn’t been at this house in years, yet just as she’d expected, the sofa hid under a plastic covering, there was a Bible lying on a tray next to her grandmother’s recliner, and Big Mama still had a collage of pictures around the room, though many of the faces in the pictures were new to her.

  Spotting a picture of herself in a blue-and-white polka-dot dress on the piano, Natalie set down her bags and walked over to pick it up. In it, her long, dark ponytails hung way over her shoulders, and she had such a bright gap-toothed smile. She couldn’t have been more than four at the time because she remembered her father taking her to get ice cream after the photo session, and he had died shortly after her fifth birthday. It touched her heart to see that her grandmother still displayed this picture of her after all these years. Life had been so good back then.

  “Natalie?” Big Mama called from the kitchen.

  “Yes?” She set down the picture, picked up her luggage and walked toward the sound of her grandmother’s voice.

  “You can set your stuff upstairs in whatever room you want. My room is still down here,” she said and turned toward Natalie. Her hands were covered with flour and there was a pan of grease crackling on the stove.

  “Okay,” Natalie replied, checking out the kitchen. The light blue wallpaper and the basic, almond-colored appliances were still a little old-fashioned for Natalie’s taste, but it was a vast improvement from the yellow-painted walls and puke-green stove and refrigerator that Natalie vividly remembered.

  She took her bag and walked up the stairs. Natalie knew exactly which bedroom she wanted. It was the second one to the left—the one she used to stay in as a child.

  The wooden door creaked when Natalie pushed it open. She stood still for a moment in astonishment, absorbing the room’s appearance. Except for the twin bed in the corner, the room had changed drastically over the years. A light brown carpet now covered the hardwood floor, tan venetian blinds had replaced the white frilly curtains and off-white paint concealed the once-pink walls. No matter how foreign the decor made the room look to her, it was still her room.

  It took about twenty minutes for Natalie to unpack all of her things. Afterwards, she rejoined her grandmother in the kitchen. Her mouth watered at the smell of chicken frying. “Do you need any help?”

  “No. Everything will be done in a bit. You just sit on down and rest. So, how long did it take you to get here?” Big Mama asked, now chopping lettuce.

  “Totally, about twelve hours. I stayed overnight in Tennessee.” Really, she had stayed two nights, but admitting it might seem strange and spark further questions.

  “How long do you plan on staying?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe a week or two.”

  Her grandmother turned and looked at her suspiciously. “It’s gonna take them that long to finish your apartment?”

  “I don’t know. I just thought it would be nice to get away for a while. The fumigation gave me a chance to do so.”

  “Mm-hmm.” There was something about her grandmother’s response that suggested she wasn’t fully buying her story. “Well, I’m glad to see you.”

  “I sat out in the car for a while because I noticed you had company and I didn’t want to interrupt.”

  “You must be talkin’ about Corrine. She’s been down at the center today helping Tommy with the bake sale. That’s Toni’s daughter.”

  Toni’s real name was actually Antoinette and she was Natalie’s father’s only sister. “Is Aunt Toni still practicing law?” Natalie asked, recalling how Toni had graduated from law school several years before Natalie and her mother moved to Ohio.

  “No, motherhood changed her motives. She said she felt like she was spending too many hours at the office and not enough time at home. She tried teaching for a while, but eventually became a stay-at-home wife and mother.”

  “Wow...I always thought Aunt Toni would own her own law firm one day. She was so passionate about being an attorney. Every time I see a rerun of Law and Order, I think about her. Was the other girl in the car Aunt Toni’s daughter, too?”

  Big Mama shrugged her shoulders. “I didn’t know anyone else was in the car. My guess is that it was probably one of Corrine’s friends. She and Toni have been into it because Corrine’s been hangin’ around with this girl that Toni cain’t stand,” she chuckled.

  “What’s so funny about that?”

  “Nothin’ really. I’m just thinkin’ about earlier when I was talkin’ to Toni and she was all worked up because Corrine got herself a tattoo. She showed it to me when she was here and my heart ’bout stopped when I saw the word sexy written inside a red heart on her shoulder. But I didn’t say anything because Toni had already fussed her out.” This time her grandmother laughed heartily. “Turns out that Corrine’s tattoo is washable. She scratched it off right in front of me and I got tickled to death. She said she has a whole stack of the same one that she puts on every morning. I told her to let her mama know it was fake so Toni could quit havin’ a fit. Toni has her ways at times, especially when she thinks she’s right, but she is a really good mother and she loves those children to death.”

  “How many children does she have?”

  “Five altogether—three boys and two girls.”

  The phone rang, interrupting their conversation. “You want me to get it?” Natalie offered.


  “No, I got it, baby. You go on and wash your hands so you can eat.”

  * * *

  It was almost one o’clock in the morning—actually two o’clock if Natalie went by Ohio time, but she and her grandmother were still up. After Natalie had eaten, she took a short nap, then she and Big Mama spent the rest of their time talking and looking through old photo albums. “We better get to bed if we’re gonna get up for church tomorrow,” her grandmother announced.

  “Church?”

  “Yeah, we got time to get a li’l sleep. Service don’t start ’til nine.”

  “Uh...I didn’t really pack anything to wear to church,” Natalie commented.

  “Chile, ain’t nobody runnin’ a fashion show. Wear whatever you brought. If you really wanna get somethin’ different, we can run up to the shoppin’ mart real quick. It’s open twenty-four hours. I got a couple hundred on me right now.” She started to reach into her bra.

  “No, that’s okay.”

  “So you just gonna wear whatcha got, then?”

  “Well, I...”

  “Good, ’cuz when Earl called earlier I’d already told him that Crystal didn’t have to pick me up.” She got up out of her recliner. “Good night, sweetie. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Natalie knew she would have a hard time coming up with an excuse her grandmother wouldn’t have a ready response for, and so she didn’t even bother offering a rebuttal, figuring it wasn’t going to kill her to go.

  * * *

  Sunday morning Natalie—in a silver blouse and black pants—found herself walking into the white-and-gold building alongside her grandmother. Her clothing was definitely not traditional church attire. From the moment she had started getting ready, she started feeling self-conscious and she wished she’d gone out and bought something else to wear. However, her grandmother reminded her that the only opinion of importance was God’s, and that she need not overly concern herself with what anyone else would think. To make Natalie feel more at ease about her apparel, and to prove her point, her grandmother wore something casual.