Though he didn’t know it at the time, the moment Marcus Thomas Sr. walked into Emmett’s office, letter in hand, his life would never be the same.
When Emmett saw the look on his friend’s face, he reluctantly asked if he was all right. Instead of responding, Marcus Sr. set the letter on his desk. Before he even read one word, Emmett recognized Carrie's handwriting.
She's okay. She's okay. She's okay. The words repeated in his head. After months of fear and uncertainty, there was the proof they’d all been waiting for. She was okay.
Then he read the letter.
People point to moments of tragedy as moments in which they lose faith in God. That wasn't so for Emmett. He clung to God more than ever that day. He needed to know He caused planets to spin and hearts to beat. He needed to believe there was a God to change the seasons and hang the stars up in the sky. He needed to believe, because if he didn't, he would have lost his mind.
He never lost faith in God. But he lost every ounce of faith he had in himself.
The only thing worse than learning his little girl had taken her life was having to tell his family. His mother let out a wail, the sound of which he’d never forget as long as he lived. His brother crumpled to the floor, weeping.
And Robin…
Robin only sat there, staring straight ahead. When her mother tried to comfort her, she gave no response. The doctors called it psychological trauma with dissociation and emotional detachment. They had big words, but no solutions. She didn't speak for months. Her parents had to care for her like a baby. On Sundays, Wednesdays and Fridays, Emmett went to the church to preach, only to rush home right after. Out of desperation, it was decided her mother would take her back East where they could stay with relatives. Perhaps being away would help.
It took months before there was any change. But gradually, Robin’s condition improved. As time passed, they all began to heal. Even Marcus Jr., whom Emmett prayed for daily, began to turn around. Though it was fragile, a sense of normalcy returned to their lives.
Emmett never could’ve guessed the worst was yet to come.
The day she returned home, Robin went straight to her father's office at the church. At first glance, he didn’t recognize her. She'd lost so much weight, she looked like a little girl.
"Daddy," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I need to talk to you.”
She told him everything.
That she had known all along. That she’d kept Carrie's secret, even against her better judgment. He was disappointed, but he understood. Robin and Carrie had been even closer than he and Angie. Though they were a year apart, people often mistook them for twins because of their looks. As children they’d had a private language. As young women, they were never apart.
"Did she say who it was?"
"She told me she didn't see his face."
Emmett sank back in his chair. Of all the things he wanted to know, that was the one thing he needed to know.
"All she said was, he had a mole on his shoulder."
Just two days later, Emmett prepared for Sunday morning service. As he stood before the mirror and lifted his bishop’s robes up over his back and shoulders, a memory flashed before him.
It was when he and his brother were teenagers. They’d been in the backyard playfully sparring when their neighbor, Miss Ola, came to the fence that marked the property line.
"Ms. Caroline," she called out. "I can smell your cornbread from all the way over here. What else you got good, girl?"
His mother leaned out the screen door and answered back. "Ham, collard greens and black-eyed peas. Come on over and get you some!"
"Girl, you know I'm trying to lose this here weight!" Less than fifteen seconds passed before she added, "Shoot! Just lemme grab my house shoes!" Before she turned away she said, "I don't know how you tell them two apart, Caroline. Them boys look just alike."
His mother laughed. "Emery's got a birthmark on his shoulder. God's way of giving 'em nametags!"
A birthmark. The mole Emmett had seen a thousand times. So often, he’d stopped seeing it. The way one stopped seeing another’s scar or deformity, eyeglasses or cane. His familiarity had blinded him to the obvious.
Emmett turned to his pastor's aid, careful to keep his voice even. "Is my brother out there?"
"Umm, I doubt it, but I'll look."
Emery hadn't been to church since they’d gotten the letter from Carrie. Emmett never thought much about it. Everything and everyone changed when they lost her. But now…
Emmett didn't remember preaching the sermon that morning. He didn’t know a word he’d said. Memories, images and thoughts rushed through his mind. And with each one, it became more and more obvious. The devil had been in his house all along. At his very dining table.
The second he finished the message, he was out of the pulpit and through the side door. He looked at the time. 12:50 PM. He knew exactly where Emery would be. They all went to his mother's house every Sunday for dinner and, after they'd stopped regularly attending church, Emery and Diane would arrive at the house early to get things started.
Without bothering to park the car, Emmett jumped out and raced up the concrete path that led to the front door. He yanked the screen door so hard, one of the upper hinges came undone.
Emery rushed from the kitchen to see what had caused the noise and before he could open his mouth to ask, Emmett had his hands around his neck. As he did his best to block any wisp of air from entering his brother’s lungs, everything became clear.
It was like looking in the mirror. They were exactly alike. Same skin color, same eyes, same haircut. Even as Emery attempted to plead for his life, Emmett realized they had the same voice.
All he could think was, My little girl didn't know. She didn't know…
Sobs rose from the pit of Emmett’s stomach and he squeezed harder. Who could she have turned to? Who could she have trusted? Emmett didn’t know what had happened and Emery pretended not to. Both of them went on as if nothing had changed, while Carrie knew, good and well, it had. It would’ve made anyone crazy. Even as she was dying, she wouldn't have known which of her uncles had hurt her.
Somewhere in the distance, Emmett heard screaming. Diane tried to pull him off, but he barely felt it. All he could feel, all he wanted to feel, was Emery's life slipping away.
He squeezed harder.
"Emmett. Emmett."
It was like hearing someone call his name when he was half asleep. He wasn't sure if it was real or he was dreaming.
"Emmett. Baby? Look at me, baby."
He looked up to see his mother standing over him. Her eyes darted back and forth between his face and the floor. He looked down and saw Emery lying beneath him. He was still breathing, but barely.
"Diane called the police. You need to leave."
She helped him stand. Reaching up to his neck, she unzipped the clergy robe and pulled it off.
"Go. Cut across through the back. Go to your house and stay there."
By the end of the next day, Emery and Diane were gone. Emmett never asked where they went. He didn't trust himself to know. And since he knew if he ever saw his brother again, he wouldn't hesitate to kill him, he felt he had no right to be a pastor. He gave his resignation that night.
All the pictures came down.
Angela, Carrie, Emery. Emmett couldn’t stand to look at them. It was only because of his wife they didn’t all burn. She hid them away, just in case things changed one day. Emmett knew that wouldn’t happen.
Whether it was the accumulation of her sorrows or just knowing what Emery had done, Ms. Caroline’s health spiraled. Emmett took care of her the best he could, but she went down fast.
She never spoke of Emery again, but years later the family learned the week after he left, she went to the police station and told them everything, including where to find him.
Before she died, she begged Emmett to let it go. Said she didn't want it to eat him up like it had her. Out of love for his mother, he did
what he could to forget and though it took a long while, he eventually did. And every now and then, when a memory pushed through, it would be of Carrie or Angie and it would be good.
Chapter 39
“You remind me of her. My sister. When she was a girl.” Mr. Jones took a deep breath and exhaled. “Except, you remind me of me, too. Even when I first met you. I recognized that fire in your eyes. The burning that makes you want to destroy another human being."
Makayla didn't respond, but she knew what he was talking about. That desire she had to ruin Robin, even when it wasn’t at the forefront, was always there. Like a sleeping dragon, waiting for the slightest reason to rise up and set her hate ablaze.
But that was before. Before Carrie. And now, Emery.
"I don't feel that anymore. Now I'm just…"
“Hollow?”
She shut her eyes. She didn't want to cry any more. He reached out and took her hand into his own.
"That's usually what comes next. But I promise, it doesn't last forever."
By the time Makayla left Mr. Jones’ house, daylight had long faded. He tried to persuade her to stay the night, but she couldn't think of anything she'd rather do less.
Walking home from the bus stop, she tried to understand how her life could turn upside down in a matter of hours.
She'd spent the past five years wanting to prove herself. Wanting to prove to her mother what a mistake it’d been to abandon her. But after learning the truth, it only made sense.
Of course, she was abandoned. Of course, she was unwanted. She was a reminder of how low a human being could sink. That a man would do that to his dead sister’s daughter made Makayla want to throw up.
Why didn't she just get on that bus to Denver when she had the chance? Sure, she probably would've spent the rest of her life wondering about Robin and feeling horrible about what she’d done to her, but she could've lived with that. The things she knew now? It was too much.
As Makayla turned the corner to her street, she was met with the blue and red flashing lights of police cruisers parked another block down. Even in the dark, Makayla could see the yellow and black crime tape rustling in the wind. Someone had been shot. Again.
She wove her way around onlookers standing on the sidewalk. Still a half block from the lobby doors, she felt someone pull at her jacket.
"Where were you last night? Spending time with your college boy?"
Makayla was not in the mood to put up with Antoine and his mess. Not tonight. All she wanted was to go to bed.
"You know you hear me. And I know you not trying to ignore me."
He circled around, then fell in step beside her, walking backward so he could face her. She could smell the stink of liquor mixed with the thick stench of pot.
“S’up? You been crying? I guess Mr. Escalade ain't treating you right, huh? Here, let me kiss it and make it better."
He lunged forward and put one hand on her behind and the other on the side of her neck. When he tried to kiss her on the mouth, she pushed him away. His grip on her tightened and, out of reflex, she hit him across the face.
To Makayla, the next few moments seemed to unfold in slow motion. The look of surprise on Antoine's face, the way the surprise contorted into rage. Him wiping his fingers across his mouth, her seeing the blood that streaked his lip.
She didn’t see his hand until the last split second. She tried to duck, but the bone of his knuckles still caught her eye, cheekbone and jaw.
The force of his strike knocked her off balance and she fell against the side of the building. Antoine looked as if he were coming for her again when one of his friends, the one with the mohawk, grabbed him from behind.
From where she lay, Makayla saw the flashing of the police lights reflect off the windows of the buildings across the street. Antoine's friend said something to him, but Makayla’s ear was ringing and she could only make out parts of it: ”…across the street!” “Are you crazy?" "Come on, dawg…“ “…parole.”
Whatever he said, he made his case, because Antoine rapidly regained his composure. But before he walked away, he leaned in close and whispered in her ear.
“Po ain't gonna be here forever. You gonna regret you ever laid hands on me. I promise you."
Chapter 40
Makayla scrambled up the flight of stairs and ran down the hallway to her apartment. She fumbled with her keys the entire way, so she didn't see Robin until she was right at the apartment door.
"Oh my God! Makayla! What happened?" Robin reached for her jawline to get a better look, but Makayla pulled back.
"Leave me alone," she mumbled, as she unlocked her door and went inside. She tried to shut it behind her, but Robin stopped the door with her foot and followed.
“Who did that to you?"
Robin made a beeline for the freezer and opened it. Finding it empty, she flew past Makayla to the bathroom.
"We need to put something on there. Ice would've been best, but this is better than nothing."
She rushed from the bathroom with a damp towel in her hand.
“My Lord… Your eye looks like it's swelling as we speak."
She moved to put one hand behind Makayla's neck while using the other to position the towel on her lip when Makayla jerked away.
"You're not my mother. Stop acting like you are.”
Robin became still. Makayla stared at the floor. After a few seconds of silence, Robin folded the towel in her hand and looked around her. She went to the open apartment door, bent over and reached for something just outside it. Picking it up and closing the door, she returned to Makayla.
"You left this in my trunk."
It was Makayla’s duffel bag. She took it, careful not to let her fingers brush Robin’s. Then she went to the door Robin had just closed, opened it again and stepped back.
"Thanks for bringing my stuff.”
Robin took in a deep breath, then exhaled. She came to the door, but instead of walking through it, she closed it. She took off her coat, folded it in half and put it, along with her handbag, on the kitchenette counter.
"You left before we had a chance to talk through all this. There are things you need to know.“
Makayla had learned enough for the day. “Like what? Emery?”
Robin's face went slack.
"Or were you going to leave the pervert out of it? I mean, for my sake?"
"How did you—“
"Mr. Jones. I went to his house. He told me everything. He just didn't realize who he was telling it to." Makayla almost smiled at the irony of it, but the pain of her aching cheekbone stopped her.
"Oh, Makayla…" Robin took one step toward her, then another. Haltingly, as if not to scare her away. “Baby, none of that matters."
Makayla held the side of her face and laughed out loud. Not because it was funny, but because it was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard.
"It's the only thing that matters!"
Robin reached for her, but Makayla jerked away.
“Stop! Don't touch me.” Not even the throbbing of her jaw could distract her from the emotion welling up in her chest. She didn’t want to cry any more. She didn’t want to feel. She just wanted to sleep. “Why are you still here? You brought my bag. Just go already. Please.”
"No." Robin said the word so quietly, it seemed an inappropriate response to Makayla's ranting.
“I don’t wanna do this with you! I don’t wanna talk about this anymore. Just leave me alone.”
"I said, no."
Robin looked at her with such quiet determination, Makayla realized she was fighting a losing battle. She threw her hands up and exhaled before going to the wall and leaning against it. Robin sat in the folding chair and crossed her arms.
"Like I said, there are things you don't know. Things I need to explain to you. After you've heard everything, if you still feel the same, I'll do what you ask. I won't fight you. Deal?"
Makayla continued staring at the floor. “Fine.”
“
This isn’t just about Carrie or Emery. I know you may not believe it, but I cared for you from the moment I saw you. It was the first Sunday of the month. You are wearing a cream and pink dress and your hair was down. The congregation was greeting one another and you were there, still damp from the rain." Robin smiled. “I hugged you and… I don't know, I felt something.
“Then I gave you that ride home and I had butterflies in my stomach the whole time. All I could think was, who is this girl and why does she make me feel this way? And then that day in the restaurant? April thought you were mine and that's when it hit me. What if you were? What if you were the answer to a prayer I’d almost given up on?"
Makayla looked up for just a moment, but it was long enough for Robin to see the look of confusion on her face. She put her hand up.
"Wait. I have to explain…” Robin exhaled and leaned forward, putting her elbows in her lap. “Not too long after I graduated, I was diagnosed with a severe case of endometriosis. It was so extreme, I was told children were highly unlikely, if not impossible. I was devastated. I'd always wanted to be a mother, even as a little girl. And if that weren't bad enough, it seemed like every guy I ever dated wanted a family. Not by adoption, that was made very clear. I knew I couldn't give them what they wanted, so I just stopped dating altogether.
“‘I’m married to my work.’ That was the lie I used to tell people whenever they asked why I didn't want a family. It was easier than voicing the truth.
“Year after year, I kept expecting it to get better. I needed it to get better. But it never happened. I had this big gaping hole in my heart that just wouldn't go away.”
Robin paused for a long while and it took everything Makayla had not to look at her again, to make sure she was all right.
“For years, I thought it was my punishment. I thought I was reaping what I’d sowed. I never told anyone what was going on with Carrie. Not when it mattered. Not while it would've made a difference. And because I kept quiet, she tried to handle it on her own. It cost her her life. And not just hers, but the innocent one she carried, too.
Nobody’s Child (New Life Tabernacle Series Book 1) Page 18