The doctor said the cancer hadn’t spread and that there may be a chance to shrink the tumor if she went through chemotherapy. Momma May rejected it, saying if it was meant for her to be healed, Jesus Himself would do it. She told us that she’d lived a full, happy life and would go willingly if Jesus called her home.
I was sitting on the porch with Momma May, listening to the sound of the wind chime and imagining a world where there was no sickness, no tears, and no pain, only laughter and joy. One where everyone had a momma like May, where there was always food on the table, where no child felt alone and unloved.
Where love and friendship were requited.
A nice black car pulled up to the curb in front of the house. I squeezed my eyes to see who it was, but the windows were slightly tinted. The driver’s door opened. Dante got out of the car, dressed in nice black dress pants, new black dress shoes, a nice light blue button-up, and a pair of expensive aviators, and his hair was freshly cut into a nice fade. The world slowed around me as he walked up to the house. My mouth hung open in shock.
He stood below the first step and took his shades off, smiling up at Momma May. “Good morning, Pastor May.”
“Good morning,” I said.
Dante narrowed his eyes when he looked at me. “Hope.”
I narrowed my eyes back. “Dante.”
“Like my new car?” he said, finally coming up the stairs.
“How did you buy a new car? You don’t have a job.”
“I have a trust fund my mom left me when she died. It’s a lot of money.”
“What’s up with the new makeover?” I tried hard not to smile. Why did I want to smile anyway?
“I needed a change.” His smile was bright but there was something mocking about it, like he knew I thought he was very attractive. Especially now. It irritated me, but at the same time I was impressed. “Wanna go on a joy ride?”
I looked behind him at the car and smiled. Why wouldn’t a girl like me want to take a ride in a car like that? Especially next to a guy dressed like that? Who was this boy standing in front of me? It was like Dante turned into a man right before my eyes.
“Sure,” I said, almost too sweetly.
Dante turned a corner with too much speed, throwing me against my door. “Slow down!” I said, gripping the dashboard. The interior of the car was just as nice as the outside. He had nice black leather seats that, he explained, had the ability to heat up when it got cold; the dashboard and radio system were clean and top notch; it even had a built-in GPS system. It also had that new car scent that I loved.
“Scared?” Dante laughed, spinning around another curb, but then he slowed down and pulled into a pharmacy. He parked the car and turned toward me.
“Hope, I have enough money to pay off Norma’s mortgage on Pastor May’s home and pay for her medical bills,” he said. A glint of inspiration lit his eyes.
“How much money do you have?” I asked, gaping.
“More than I can count.”
“And you’d pay Momma May’s bills? Dante, that’s—”
“The least I could do for an amazing woman who has been there for me since my mom died. You’d do the same, too.”
I smiled. “I would. You got a big heart, Dante. And your swag is . . . better.”
He laughed. “Come on, I gotta go pick up Pastor May’s prescription.”
We got out of the car and walked into the pharmacy. Dante went to the back of the store to get the medicine. I wandered around the store, looking over cosmetics and little accessories. I picked up a tube of red lipstick, wondering how I’d look in something so daring. Maybe I could use a makeover like Dante. I was still walking about in my week’s worth of thrift store clothes. My pants had a hole at the bottom from wearing them so much. I could keep the money Momma May gave me since Dante was paying off her bills. Maybe I could do some more shopping of my own.
Thankfully I was able to straighten my hair with Momma May’s old hot iron, or I’d be walking around with a big fro. I shook at the thought.
“Hope?”
I turned around, expecting to see Dante, but it wasn’t him. I dropped the red lipstick on the floor, not bothering to pick it up as I gawked at John, who stood three feet away. He was a lot frailer than I’d remember, like he hadn’t eaten a good, healthy meal in months. His clothes were bagging and oversized, his shirt had a coffee stain on it. He held some prescription medicine in his hands. I tried to make out what he was taking but couldn’t. I met his stare. He almost smiled but his eyes were sad. He took a step closer and I took a step back. I came to my senses and picked up the lipstick, placing it back on the shelf with shaking hands.
“Hope, it’s good to see you.” His eyes darted to the ground with shame.
“Is it?” I hadn’t realized I was capable of speaking. It almost sounded like someone else’s voice. Someone who was scared and fragile.
He sighed, looking down at his hands, thinking of how to approach this conversation, I was sure. He looked back up at me, and then to my stomach. “How are you doing?”
“Fine.”
“How is the baby?” When I didn’t answer, he continued, meeting my eyes. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened. How I choked. How I made the biggest mistake of my life. Seeing your mother beat you like that—”
“And you ain’t do anything to stop it.”
He dropped his head again. “You’re right. I wish I could take it back. I’m sorry. I . . .” He hesitated, putting one hand in his pocket. “I couldn’t run away with a sixteen-year-old girl, Hope! That was the only thing holding me back. But then I thought about the baby, it’s all I’ve been thinking about. That and how life would be now if I would’ve taken off with you.
“We can fix this, Hope. Me and your momma aren’t together anymore. I have an apartment. It ain’t much but we can fix it up really nice, decorate the baby’s room. We can have our family, just like you wanted, Hope. Come with me, right now. We can raise our baby, like you always wanted. We can—”
“John!” I almost screamed, silencing him at once. There were so many things I wanted to say to him, to do to him. I thought about it all the time: what would happen if our paths ever crossed. I told myself I’d kill him, run him over. Break his legs. Tell him how bad he hurt me, how it still affected me every day. And now I had the chance, but I couldn’t find the right words. All I said was, “No.”
“No?” He was confused. “But I thought that’s all you ever wanted.”
“I was stupid.”
“Hope—”
“Ain’t no baby anymore. Momma killed it along with everything else. But I’m fine now . . . more than fine. Better. Stronger. Loved.”
“Hope.” It was Dante’s voice who interrupted me. He looked from me to John and back to me again. I watched John look over Dante’s nice attire and frowned. He looked back at me with questions in his eyes. “Are you okay?”
I shook my head and Dante was at my side in less than a second. He stood by me protectively.
“You got a problem?” he asked John, who paid no attention to him.
John’s eyes were focused on me, waiting. “Hope,” he pleaded. In a sick way, it made me feel good to see him beg for me the way I begged for him. The feeling went away as soon as it came. I still loved John and, regardless of what he did to me, I didn’t want to see him hurting. He looked bent out of shape.
“Dante, can we leave now?” I kept my eyes low, doing everything I could to avoid the man who broke my heart into millions of pieces. Dante grabbed my hand and guided me to the front and outside of the door. John said nothing as we walked away. I was glad that he did.
Dante opened my car door and waited for me to get seated comfortably before shutting the door. He ran around to his side and jumped in. He started the car and sped out of the parking lot. I leaned back in my seat, thankful for the radio’s music. I didn’t feel like talking about what happened.
He pulled up to a nice park where beautiful trees provided sha
de over the bright green lawn. Kids crowded a small playground as parents sat at benches or pushed their child on swings. Couples were sprawled out on blankets, kissing and talking. Some kids flew kites while others played Frisbee with their dogs. It was a nice, family-oriented place. It almost made me feel happy. Almost.
“Come on.”
Dante led me on a quiet trail that cut straight through the woods. If I had been in a better mood, I would’ve marveled at the nature. All of the different types of trees towering above us watched as we passed, passing secrets along in the wind. Bugs flew by, resting on nearby flowers and I could hear rodents in bushes, searching for food. It was nature at its best.
We walked in silence for some time; I supposed Dante was allowing me to cool off before broaching the subject. Surprisingly, I was ready to spill it out. Tell him everything. I needed a friend to confide in, and somehow, over the months, Dante became exactly that. A friend. Yes, he had his weird and awkward moments, but he grew on me. Some days I couldn’t wait to see him, just so I could pick on him and laugh. It was what we did.
But today was different, more serious.
I didn’t wait for him to ask questions. I let it all hang out.
I started by telling him about my relationship with my mom and I ended with explaining how I met Momma May. The whole time he listened and really took in everything I said. Not once did he judge me. I was grateful for that. I didn’t need any more judging in my life. I’d had enough judgment to last me a century.
“So, you lost the baby.” He said it more out of confirmation. “Wow. Hope, that’s . . .”
“Crazy?” I laughed, although there was nothing funny about it. Maybe I did it to lighten the mood. “I know.”
“I really think you should talk to Pastor May, confess it all to her and listen to what God tells you through her. You think God doesn’t love you because your mom never did, but that’s a lie. God said He will never forsake you.”
“I know what God says, I just have a hard time believing it.”
“Talk to Pastor May, she’ll help you. Maybe that’s why God placed you two on the same path, for confirmation. Maybe God knew you’d need someone who understands you to help you come to Him.”
“Maybe,” I said. I felt exhausted. Too many emotions. “Can we go back to the car now? I’m tired. I want to go home and take a nap.”
“Sure.”
Dante led me back to the car. We sat in silence on the way home. Somewhere along the ride, I fell asleep. I didn’t feel Dante as he parked in front of the house but I felt him lift me up and carry me inside. I should’ve told him that I was awake, but there was something about being in a man’s arms as he carried me.
Dante sat me gently on my bed and kissed my forehead. I didn’t stir as he lay down beside me and dozed off as well. Good thing Momma May was blind, because she would’ve caught a case seeing how we ended up napping in the same bed. I was glad that Dante lay next to me. Somehow he knew it wasn’t wise to leave me alone in my current state. For that, he was a great friend.
I woke up first, turning toward a snoring Dante. He was calm; he was at peace. I took the time to study his face. He had long black lashes and touched his cheeks as he slept. He had small brown freckles on his nose that I’d never noticed before. I smiled, noticing the drool escaping out of the corner of his mouth.
I decided to mess with him. I plugged his nose until a loud snore erupted from his mouth. His hand shot straight up and I moved my hand away as he rubbed his nose and settled back into a deep sleep. I waited a few seconds before I did it again, making him jump this time. I buried my face in my pillow and laughed. I looked over at him still sleeping. I raised my hand again, but his hand quickly sliced through the air and caught mine. His grip was tight.
“Don’t,” he said and opened his eyes. I laughed so hard, pulling out of his grip, turning on my back. Dante sat up, rubbing his eyes with a smile on his face. He looked out of the window to the dark sky. “What time is it?”
“After eight. We missed dinner. We should order pizza.”
He sighed. “I can’t. I gotta get home.”
He suddenly seemed distant, distracted. He quickly jumped out of bed and walked over to the door, putting his shoes on.
“Okay. How about tomorrow?” I asked, turning on my side and placing a hand under my head for support.
He didn’t look at me. He seemed to be avoiding eye contact. “I’m not coming over tomorrow.”
“The next day?” I frowned. Since when did Dante not come over?
“Maybe,” he said, and left the room, shutting the door behind him. I didn’t even get a good-bye. That was strange even for him. I lay back on my back, wondering what I could’ve done to chase him away like that.
Chapter 14
Momma May was in a great mood that next morning. I was awakened by the sound of gospel music exploding through the radio. I got dressed and headed downstairs and found her in the living room dancing in place. She didn’t hear me come into the room over the radio. I took a seat on the coach and watched until she grew tired.
“Good morning,” I said, watching her jump, scaring her half to death. Her laughter was childlike.
She took a seat on the couch. “An old lady’s gotta find a way to work out.”
I nodded, half listening. I had a lot on my mind due to Dante’s weird departure. I couldn’t stop wondering if I had done something wrong. Putting this morning’s episode behind me for the time being, I focused on what I wanted to talk to Momma May about.
“Momma May,” I began, but I quickly choked on my words. “Dante said I should talk to you about God, because I can’t come to terms with”—I took a breath before continuing—“with everything.”
She nodded, sitting back comfortably on the couch. “Well, let me ask you this, do you believe in God?”
I sighed, lowering my head. “I don’t know.”
“What do you think makes you question His existence?”
“I don’t know. I guess because I was never given the opportunity to have a personal relationship with Him. I never got to experience Him firsthand. I had to hear about Him through Faith.” I sighed. “And I feel like, if God loves me, why did He give me such a messed-up life?”
Momma May nodded. “God works in mysterious way, baby. I can’t begin to give you an answer, but I can give you some insight based on what I’ve been through.” She sighed, sitting back in her seat. “After I lost my sight, I felt lost and alone and there was no one there to guide me. How could I find a place to live if I couldn’t see? Everything became a dark place.
“I used to love to draw, but how could I draw if I couldn’t see what I was drawing? I’d lost everything, but God picked me up. He told me to have faith in Him and He’d be my eyes. He’d guide me to where I needed to get. I fought with Him, not wanting to submit to His will, wanting to rely on my own failing strength. ‘God!’ I said. ‘Why me?’ Do you want to know what He said? He said, ‘Why not?” I didn’t understand what He meant for a long time.
“After the mayor beat me blind, I walked for three days straight, not knowing where He was taking me. But faith is walking blindly on God’s path, relying solely on Him. I questioned Him along the way. Fought with Him, denied Him, but I didn’t leave His path. Eventually a young man named Curtis Baker found me passed out and dehydrated. He took me in, fed me, gave me water, and nursed me back to health. He was a preacher. A fine speaker. He was after God’s own heart. That’s the kind of man you want, one after God’s own heart.”
I thought about what Dante once told me, how he compared himself to David because David was after God’s own heart. The thought warmed me inside. I thought I knew a good man. I thought John was one, and maybe he was, in his own way, but he wasn’t after God’s own heart. He was for himself.
“Do you know how it felt when I had my first born, knowing I’d never be able to look at her face, see her smile, see her take her first step? I didn’t even know what Curtis looked like. I did
n’t get the chance to have those memories. I started doubting God again. He said a just man falls seven times. And girl did I fall. I’d get depressed and blame God. I thought it was His fault. He could’ve stopped the mayor and his wife from finding me. He could’ve provided me shelter like He did to so many men in the Bible. But He didn’t. I felt unloved.” I understood exactly what Momma May felt like, to be unloved.
“I thought being blessed was living a great life with no problems, no pain. But I was wrong. Being blessed is exactly the opposite. I think I know why God allowed me to be blind. I was too proud, too exalted. I didn’t stop and just listen to Him and His will. So He put me in a position where I had no choice but to rely on Him. It was the best thing He could’ve ever done.”
“So you think He purposefully blinded you so that you’d be obedient? I thought He gave us our own will.”
“He does. See, God knows our moves before we even make them. He knew that the mayor and his wife were out to get me. He didn’t interfere with their will. God doesn’t stop an angry man from hurting the innocent. Afterward, He lifts the innocent and weak up and makes them stronger. He brings good out of even the worst situations. People blame God for their misfortune, but they forget to praise Him once He brings them out of it. It’s not God’s fault. That’s what I learned. The only thing He did was picked me up and gave me a better life.
“And now I have a praise and a testimony far greater than the pain I once had. Hope, don’t blame God. Look at what He’s done for you. He gave you a new home, a new family who loves you, a new Hope. Look at yourself in the mirror and tell me that you’re the same girl who was starving, hungry, and helpless. You can’t. Even I see the growth in you, and I’m a blind old lady. God has brought you through.”
When I exhaled, it felt like the weight of the world lifted off of my shoulders. It felt as if I had been holding my breath for a lifetime. When I inhaled, the air was cool and crisp. I felt a strange, satisfying sensation spread through my chest. It felt like spring, like pure light and spirit coursing through me. I fell from the couch onto my knees and began crying. I lifted my hands and screamed, “Jesus!”
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