Joy

by Victoria Christopher Murray

  “How can you say that, Madear?” He paced the floor. “She's not herself. She won't go to work …”

  Madear chuckled. “Isn't this something? All the grief you've given Anya about her business, I'd thought you'd be happy that she decided to rest awhile.”

  Braxton stopped in the middle of the floor.

  Madear waved her hand at him. “Anya told me all about your … discussions.”

  “It's not that I don't want her to work,” Braxton started to explain, but Madear held her hand up.

  “That's between you and her. But you're thinking that since she hasn't jumped right back into everything, something's wrong. She's not reacting the way you expected.”

  “Madear, I thought Anya would have leapt into her work full-force. I thought that's what I would be complaining about.”

  “Has she told you why she hasn't gone back to work?” Madear asked.

  “She said it's because of the bandage on her face.”

  Madear nodded. “That's what she told me. And it made sense to me, but it doesn't to you?”

  “They took the bandage off yesterday and she still hasn't said anything.”

  Madear rubbed her hand along his back. “She is going to be fine, Braxton. I think she's doing the right thing for once. She's not putting that business first.”

  “I guess I didn't know what to expect. The first few days, I thought she'd cry or scream or want to talk about what happened constantly. But she won't talk to me about it at all.”

  “Give her time with that, sweetie. It took a mighty long time for me to talk when it happened to me.”

  Braxton leaned back and stared at Madear.

  She shook her head. “The details don't matter. It was so many years ago, before I was married. I was a colored girl in Texas, working after school for the white man who owned the general store. So they certainly didn't call it rape.”

  Her words sounded matter-of-fact to Braxton. “Does Anya know?”

  Madear squinted her eyes trying to remember. “I think so, but it doesn't matter. This is different. All you need to know is that it takes time. And everyone reacts in a different way; there is no text-book response. I shut down and couldn't go to school or work for weeks. Some people are so angry that they lash out at everyone around them. Anya is handling this her way and there are probably people who would look at her and say her reaction is not strong enough. As many women as there are in the world—that's how many reactions you'll get. Anya's fine. Just be grateful that she has Pastor Ford.”

  Braxton sighed deeply. “I just want her to know that I'm there for her too.”

  “She knows that, and she is grateful. But she also needs your patience.”

  “I'm trying …

  “Braxton, let me tell you something about the women in our family. From my grandmother to Anya, we are women who know how to triumph. Victory is in her genes—she's an overcomer. As much as I hate to think about what happened to my baby that night, I rejoice because I know who she is. She is reaching way down inside and pulling up what she has. Don't worry, she is leaning on you.” Madear paused, and took Braxton's face in her hands. “But know one thing, Braxton. While Anya needs you, she needs the Lord more. And that's who is really getting her through. The Holy Spirit is ministering to her and counseling her.”

  Braxton allowed Madear's words to settle into him, then he hugged her. “Thank you, Grandmother.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “Oh, baby, I love you like you were my own grandson.”

  He kissed her. “Let me get back to Anya.” He stood, but Madear took his hand.

  “Let me get you some cake, baby.”

  Braxton's grin was wide.

  “You can eat it in the car. This way, Anya will never know that you were here checking up on her.”

  He smiled shyly, but eagerly followed Madear into the kitchen.

  Anya stabbed at the chicken on her plate. She hadn't taken a bite of either the chicken or the potato salad. Without lifting her head, she peered at Braxton through lowered eyes. His eyes were downcast, as he read the newspaper spread out on the table in front of him.

  She took a deep breath. “I'm going back to work tomorrow.”

  The chicken thigh was halfway to his mouth and he held it there, before he dropped in onto the plate. “Actually, I think that's good. But since tomorrow is Thursday, why don't you give yourself the weekend and go back on Monday?”

  “No,” she said firmly. “Tomorrow is better.”

  He nodded. “Okay. I'm just looking out for you.”

  “Well, there's no need for that.” She walked behind him, and put her hands on his shoulders. “It's time for you to go home … tonight,” she said, reaching down and putting her arms completely around him.

  He pushed away from the table and turned to face her. “Anya, no, I don't—”

  She kissed him before he could continue. “You have to go so that I can get back to normal.”

  “What does my being here have to do with that?”

  “I need to be by myself now. Do you understand?”

  Braxton moved away from her embrace. “I need to be here with you, Anya,” he said with his back to her. “I wasn't there when …” He paused, then looked back at her.

  “Braxton, nothing that happened is your fault. You've been with me through every part that counts and I thank God for you.” She walked to him and took his hands again. “But the next steps, I have to take by myself.”

  When he began to protest, she gently covered his mouth with her hand.

  “It's been a week and that's enough time for both of us. You were with me for all the right reasons, but if you stay any longer—”

  “Please don't tell me this is because of God.”

  “It's because it's time.” She smiled at him. “And Braxton, it's time for you to get back to your life—to writing, and figuring out what you're going to do with Junior.” His eyes told her he was not convinced. “I'm not going to be talked out of this.”

  Braxton pursed his lips in anger, then paused. These had been emotion-packed days, and he didn't want to end with an argument. He sat back down and they finished dinner in silence.

  After they cleared the table, Braxton took Anya's hand and they went up to her bedroom. He folded his clothes slowly, stuffing them inside his bag. As he packed, arguments raged through his mind, words to persuade Anya that he had to stay. But he kept it all to himself. The way Anya sat on the edge of the bed, with that stiff smile, let him know that her determination would win.

  He took his time, wanting to hold onto each minute. It was more than just protecting her. It was the closeness they'd developed that he didn't want to slip away.

  When it came to the point where he could no longer stall, he sat on the bed and pulled Anya into his arms. “Forgive me for loving you too much.”

  She squeezed him tighter. “I'll never forgive you for that. It makes me love you more.”

  He reached into the side pocket of his bag and pulled out a velvet box. “I was waiting for the right moment …” He looked at her with glassed eyes, then opened the box revealing a glittering diamond.

  Anya gasped. “Oh, my God.”

  Braxton lifted the ring and held it in front of Anya. “I wanted to give you something really special this time because of all we've been through.”

  Slowly he slipped the ring onto her finger. The large round stone glistened, but it was the blue stones that surrounded the diamond that made her look at Braxton with tears in her eyes.

  “I read somewhere that God gave Moses the Ten Commandments on sapphire tablets,” Braxton said. “I don't know if that's true, but I wanted this ring to symbolize more than just our engagement.” He took her hand into his. “These three sapphires represent our life together. Our past, present, and this larger one, that's our future.”

  “Braxton, this is beautiful,” she whispered. “But what about—”

  He smiled and held a finger to her lips. “I don't want my fiancée walking around
without a ring. I'll get the insurance money for the other one. Don't worry.”

  She hugged him.

  “Oh, there is one thing.” He pulled away and looked into her eyes. “Anya Mitchell, will you marry me?”

  She smiled. “The first chance we get.”

  He kissed her, then they held hands as they walked down the stairs.

  “Braxton, I wouldn't have made it through this without you,” Anya said, rubbing her lips against his.

  “I will always take care of you.”

  “Promise?”

  He nodded and kissed the top of her head. “I wouldn't live my life without you.”

  Anya let him tarry for a few minutes more, before she playfully shoved him through the door. She watched as he laggardly made his way to the car, then drove away.

  She turned off the lights, then ran up the stairs, resisting the urge to knock on Sasha's door. It was time for her to face the night. As she lay on her bed, she held her hand in front of her, staring at the ring. And she knew then that her life was going to be fine.

  She reached for her Bible, but exhaustion hung heavy over her. Instead she rolled from the bed, and fell to her knees.

  “Father, all I can say is thank you. I thank you, for how far you've brought me and for how you're going to take me all the way through. I thank you for blinding the negative images from my mind so that now, I can barely remember. I thank you for being Jehovah-Shalom, my peace.” She lingered in the silence for a few moments, feeling the calming presence of the Lord surround her. “And tonight, Lord, for the first time I am alone physically, but you are here. I know there is nothing for me to fear, because you said you are always with me.

  Even when she climbed into the bed and pulled the covers over her, she continued to meditate on the Lord. At first, she left the lights on but after only a few minutes, she turned them off. She lay back in the darkness and closed her eyes, knowing that God would answer her prayers. Just like He already had.

  Chapter 38

  The BMW's engine trembled as it sat idling, and finally Anya turned off the windshield wipers. A surprise storm had sneaked into the city in the middle of the night and continued, leaving the L.A. streets filled with chaos. Anya had crawled up LaBrea behind slow-moving cars and arrived at her office thirty minutes later than she planned.

  Her hands shook when she turned off the ignition. She closed her eyes and whispered, “Lord, fill me with your strength.”

  Her heels on the concrete mixed with the rain that pelted against the building. When the elevator doors opened and she stepped inside, she let her eyes focus on the red numbers overhead as she rose alone to the seventeenth floor. I need your strength, she said silently.

  She was still calling on God when the elevator doors opened. She soaked in the familiarity of the burgundy carpet and wood paneling. It seemed like a lifetime had passed since she walked down this hall. The corridor stretched long in front of her, and she moved like a robot until she stood in front of the doors of her business. This was a part of her life that she had been proud of. But she wasn't sure how she would feel once she was on the other side.

  With a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped into the reception area. She heard only the soft sound of a computer printer's purr. Anya took slow steps, finally entering the main part of the office.

  “Anya!” Dianna jumped from her desk “We didn't know you were coming back today! I wanted to call you so many times, but David said you were resting, and I'm so sorry about what happened. I just couldn't believe it—”

  In that moment, Anya felt normal. She held up her hand and laughed. “Di-an-na!”

  Dianna stopped and smiled. “Sorry.”

  “Thanks for making me feel like nothing's changed.” Anya hugged her, and then with a more confident step headed to her office. The door was slightly ajar, and for a moment, she stood at the edge of the entryway. Her eyes darted from one corner of the room to the next.

  “Who did this?” she said without turning around.

  “The maintenance people, but it was Braxton's idea. He had us do it just a few days after …”

  The furniture had been completely turned around; the desk now faced the window and the bookcases had been moved to the opposite walls. Even her pictures and diplomas and awards hung on a different wall. And the office had been painted—a faint lavender.

  She moved hesitantly; her eyes scanned the furniture and carpet for telltale signs, but there were none. All evidence had been erased—as if what happened, never happened.

  She moved from her desk to the window and looked down the seventeen floors to Wilshire Boulevard, where cars as small as toys crept through the rain. The ghosts that she feared were not here. She exhaled the deep breath that she didn't even realize she'd been holding inside.

  “Welcome back.”

  She smiled before she turned around. David was standing in the doorway, leaning against the post, with his arms folded as if he had been watching her for a while. He moved toward her, and kissed her on the cheek. Anya closed her eyes and inhaled his scent. It felt good to be back.

  “I'm glad to see you. How're you?” he asked softly.

  “I'm fine.” Without thinking, she brought her hand to her face and felt the gentle bump of the fading line.

  His hand followed hers and rested gently on her cheek. “You look great.”

  Her face warmed at his words. She looked at him, as his hand remained on her face, and it was only when Dianna coughed that they remembered they were not alone. He dropped his hand.

  “Do you like your office, Anya?” Dianna asked.

  Anya stepped back, putting space between her and David. Her eyes roamed the room again. “It's great. Thank you for taking care of this for me.”

  Dianna grinned. “I'm going back to my desk. But let me know when you have a few moments. I have a ton of things to go over with you.” Dianna paused. “It's so good to have you back” she gushed.

  Anya smiled, and nodded. She and David were silent until Dianna closed the door.

  “There was no one in this office more concerned about you than Dianna,” David said. “Except for me.”

  The way his dark eyes bored into hers made her look away from his gaze.

  “I really wanted to come by and see you,” David continued as Anya settled into one of the chairs in front of her desk.

  “I know, but it was better this way.” She crossed her legs and looked around the office. “It is good to be back, though.”

  When David sat in the chair opposite her, he took her hand. “So you're doing all right?”

  Anya shifted in her seat, but did not pull away. “I'm doing fine. David, I want to thank you. If you hadn't found me—”

  He shook his head. “You've already thanked me and I told you I did nothing.”

  “You saved my life and I am so grateful.”

  He dropped his eyes, as he pulled away from her. “No, I didn't. If it wasn't me, someone else would have found you.” He raised his eyes. “I'm glad I was there.”

  Anya tried to find a comfortable spot in her chair. “I'm anxious to get back to work But are you sure you want me back?” Anya tried to make her voice sound light. “You've been in charge for so long, I might just get in the way.”

  David smiled. “You may be back, but nothing's going to change. I can handle things. So you can relax.”

  A few weeks ago his assured tone would have sounded patronizing. But she knew him better now.

  She sorted through the messages Dianna had neatly lined on her desk. “It looks like I'll have little time to relax. There are a million messages from Mr. Greene.”

  David sighed. “He's been calling nonstop, insisting on speaking to you. He even tried to browbeat Dianna into giving up your home number.”

  “I'll give him a call later this morning.”

  “Maybe I should call him back. I really don't like the way he … badgers you.”

  “He's harmless. I'll call him.”

  Davi
d rested his hand on her arm. “I'm here for anything you need. I really don't want you to rush back.”

  His words were the same as Braxton's and Madear's, yet they were different.

  “Work is the best thing for me.” A door slammed and Anya flinched.

  “Sounds like the troops are arriving,” he said, ignoring her nervousness. “Everyone's going to want to come in and say hello.”

  Anya stood and walked to the window. The chill that was outside seemed to have made its way into her office.

  “I could call a staff meeting,” David said, following her. “That way, you can talk to everyone at once.”

  His voice made her feel safe. “Maybe we can do that later this morning. I need to spend some time with Dianna.”

  When she turned to face him, they were so close she could almost feel the movement of his chest. She shook her head and turned away.

  He stepped back. “I'll be in my office.” He coughed.

  She took his hand, stopping him. “Thank you … for everything.”

  He looked down at their entwined hands, then raised his eyes to hers. “I would do anything for you, Anya.” A long moment passed before he pulled away and left his words dangling in the charged air.

  She stared at the door that he closed behind him, then shook her head. It had to be her imagination—the tension between them. He was just trying to be a friend.

  Slowly she walked to her desk and let her eyes move again through the room, soaking up every corner, angle, and crevice. Alone, she waited for the terror but felt only the comfort of silence. A smile came to her face. God always answered prayers.

  She buzzed her intercom. “Dianna, give me five minutes, then come in. I need you to catch me up on everything.”

  The moment she released the buzzer, her phone rang. When Dianna buzzed and said it was Braxton, she immediately picked up the phone.

  “Hey, honey.” She spoke blithely, knowing that he would be listening to every nuance in her voice. She was surprised that it had taken him so long to call.

  “I bet you think I'm checking on you.”