He smiled. “I’m glad to hear that, baby.”
“Now, Elijah, that’s your problem. Deborah Anne is not a baby anymore.” Virginia smiled as she entered the room.
They all laughed.
As Deborah lay in bed that night, she marveled at how different things seemed to be. Only five months had passed, but her room seemed to have shrunk to the size of a pillbox. It didn’t really matter, though, because it felt so good to be home. Deborah sighed with contentment. This was where her dreams had begun. And now those dreams were real. She was singing professionally and traveling to places she’d only read about. Best of all, she was with a man with whom she hoped she’d spend the rest of her life.
In that moment, she did something that she hadn’t done since she left home—she got on her knees and prayed, thanking God for all that had been given to her. And she prayed that she would continue to live and stand for the Lord.
Thanksgiving was like it always was at the Petersons’. Mountain Baptist didn’t have a Thanksgiving service, so every year, Elijah would hold early-morning prayer at their house.
It was dawn, and Deborah was still dressed in her pajamas and bathrobe when her aunts and uncles started to pour into the living room. Deborah’s cousins rarely attended the early-morning service, so she was surprised when Willetta showed up with her parents.
“I never get to see you anymore,” Willetta explained. “So I have to take every opportunity.” She hugged her cousin.
After prayer, Aunt Bird and Aunt Eleanor joined Virginia in the kitchen. Deborah and Willetta, assured that the other women had everything under control, went in to Deborah’s bedroom.
“This reminds me of high school.” Deborah giggled. “When you would come over and we would gossip about everyone in class.”
“And that’s what I want to do now,” Willetta said, pulling her legs under her on the bed. “I didn’t want to ask you this in front of Maxine yesterday, but what is going on with you and Triage Blue? I’ve seen all the pictures in the paper.”
Deborah waved her hands. “I used to believe those tabloids too, until I got to LA and ended up in half of them. Willetta, they make those things up.”
“Well, even Mother Dobson said that you and Triage were together. She said that he took you to meet his parents in Chicago.” Willetta searched her cousin’s face for answers.
Deborah smiled. “That’s true. Triage and I are an item.” Willetta screamed, and Deborah covered her face with a pillow. “Be quiet; I don’t want everyone running in here.”
Willetta kicked her legs in the air. “I knew it! My cousin Deborah Anne, and Triage Blue! Oh my goodness. I couldn’t even imagine being with someone that famous.”
“I don’t see him that way. He’s just a guy, and I’m just a girl.”
Willetta waved her hand. “Oh God, that sounds like a line from a movie. Triage is not just a guy!”
“He is pretty special,” Deborah agreed.
Willetta sat up on the bed, and her smile disappeared. “So,” she started, lowering her voice, “have you guys . . .” She paused. “You know.”
Deborah shook her head. “No, we haven’t.”
“You haven’t had sex yet?” Willetta asked, surprised.
“We’re not going to have sex at all.”
“What are you waiting for?”
“Willetta,” Deborah exclaimed. “You know I’m not having sex until I get married. We agreed.”
Willetta dropped her head, and Deborah’s mouth dropped open.
“Have you and Steven—”
She nodded. “Lots of times. I’ve even started taking the Pill.”
Deborah dropped back against the headboard. “I thought we were going to wait until we got married.”
Willetta waved her hand in the air. “We made that promise when we were fourteen. Times have changed.”
Deborah shrugged. “That’s what everyone says, but it hasn’t changed for me. I’m still a virgin.”
“Wow!”
“That’s exactly what Triage said.” Deborah shook her head. “He said he didn’t think there were people like me left in the world.”
“He’s right about that. Even your teenage cousins have beat you, Deborah Anne.”
Deborah shook her head. “It’s amazing how cavalier people are about sex. I mean, what about what we learned in church?”
Willetta shrugged. “I don’t know. I pray about it all the time. I know I’ll have to answer to God. I just hope He understands.”
“I don’t want to get in front of the Lord and just ‘hope.’”
Willetta nodded. “I know. But it’s hard today, and I don’t think you can really have a good relationship without sex.”
Deborah stood up and pointed at Willetta, but before she could open her mouth, there was a knock on the door.
“Deborah Anne, Willetta, can you help us with something out here?”
“Saved by the knock. I felt a big lecture coming on.”
Deborah laughed. “I wasn’t going to lecture you.”
“Yeah, but just in case, I’m glad Aunt Virginia called. Come on!”
Deborah shook her head as she followed Willetta into the hallway. She thought the world had gone crazy, but the biggest surprise was that all of this craziness was going on right in Villa Rica, and right in her own family.
Thanksgiving weekend passed like a ride on the Concorde, and before she knew it, Deborah was tipping the driver who had brought her luggage into her condo. After closing the door behind him, she stepped over her bags and headed straight to her answering machine.
She’d spoken to Triage only once, on Thanksgiving, and it surprised her how anxious she was to see him. She smiled as she heard her first message.
“Where are you, woman? I thought you’d be back and we could spend the entire day together. Call me the moment you get in. I missed you terribly.”
Deborah almost stopped the machine to call him immediately, but instead she decided to listen to the rest of the messages. The next one made her forget about Triage.
“Deborah, this is Emerald. I don’t know if you’re in town or not, but Vianca was rushed to the hospital this morning. It’s Sunday, so if you’re checking your messages, please check on Vianca. She’s in Cedars Sinai.”
Deborah picked up her purse and rushed from her apartment. In less than thirty minutes, she was standing in Vianca’s room. She held her breath as she looked at her friend, who was curled into a ball in the middle of the bed.
“Vianca, it’s me, Deborah.”
Vianca slowly opened her eyes. “Hey, girl,” she said weakly.
Deborah ran her fingers through the curls that were matted to Vianca’s head. “What happened? Are you going to be all right?”
Vianca nodded weakly. “I just feel so bad.” She paused. “I was pregnant, but I lost the baby.” Her eyes filled with unshed tears.
Deborah’s mouth dropped open. “I’m so sorry. I wish I’d known—”
“I didn’t tell anyone, not even Lavelle. He still doesn’t know—only Emerald, and she told me she called you.”
Deborah sat on the edge of the bed. “Don’t you think you should tell Lavelle?”
Vianca shook her head. “I don’t want him to think that I’m trying to trap him.”
“He couldn’t think that now.”
Vianca began to sob softly. “I just lost the baby. I can’t lose Lavelle too.”
Deborah squeezed her hand. “Vianca, you’re putting all of your faith in Lavelle. He’s just a man. Put your faith in God.”
“Please don’t lecture me about God right now. Not with what just happened.”
Their heads turned as the door opened and Lavelle walked in. In the hallway, Deborah could see Charles and one of Lavelle’s bodyguards.
“What’s going on in here?” Lavelle’s face was taut.
“How did you find out?” Deborah asked.
“Emerald called me, drunk. She said I put Vianca in the hospital.” He took a
step forward. “What’s going on?” he repeated.
Deborah began to move away, but Vianca took her hand. With her eyes on Lavelle, Vianca said, “I was pregnant, but I lost the baby.”
Deborah didn’t miss the look of shock, then relief, that swept through Lavelle’s eyes. But when she looked down at Vianca, Deborah could tell that the only thing Vianca saw was that Lavelle had come to her.
“You two need to be alone,” Deborah said. “I’ll be back, Vianca.” She paced the hall until Lavelle came out of the room twenty minutes later.
“Deborah, would you make sure that Vianca gets back to my place? I have to make a run.”
Deborah pursed her lips. “Does she have the key , Lavelle?”
“Yeah,” he said defiantly, then turned and walked toward the elevator.
When she returned to the room, Vianca was sitting up. “Did you see Lavelle?”
“Yeah, how did it go?”
Vianca forced a faint smile. “He said that he would have wanted the baby, and that he still wants to be with me.”
Deborah wanted to scream and shake Vianca until her brain turned to mush. But instead, she simply held her friend’s hand.
Vianca continued. “Of course, he’s not saying that he’s in love with me or anything. He enjoys my company.”
“How do you feel about that?” Deborah asked. “Don’t you think you deserve more?”
Vianca shrugged. “Maybe, but I think Lavelle will eventually change his mind. Look at what happened today. He came to the hospital, he said he cared about me, and he wanted to make sure that I got back to his place safely. . . .”
Deborah had a hard time believing that they had seen and heard the same thing, but she still said nothing as the nurse came in and helped Vianca dress.
By the time an aide wheeled Vianca to the lobby and Deborah helped her into her car, Vianca was smiling like she was just coming from an amusement park.
As Vianca chatted about the future that she and Lavelle were sure to have, Deborah prayed silently—for Vianca, for Lavelle, and finally for herself.
CHAPTER 36
THE CHRISTMAS LIGHTS WERE ALREADY SHINING along Wilshire Boulevard. This had always been Deborah’s favorite time of the year, but now it was bittersweet—her first Christmas away from home.
Triage made a quick turn into the circular driveway, and before he could stop the car, the valet was standing at the door to help Deborah out. They ran into La Mirage almost thirty minutes late for their dinner with Phoebe and Thomas.
This was Deborah’s favorite restaurant. Since it catered almost exclusively to celebrities, Deborah and Triage could enjoy a meal without constant interruptions from autograph seekers or people with tapes of themselves or a family member who “could really sing.”
The maître d’ walked them to the table where Phoebe and Thomas were waiting, and the four exchanged greetings.
“I’m so sorry we’re late,” Deborah said as Triage held the chair for her to sit. “This time it’s my fault.”
As the waiter handed them menus, Triage asked, “What do you do, Thomas?”
“What do you mean by that?” Thomas growled.
“Thomas is in security, but he’s looking to break into the movies,” chirped Phoebe, trying to sound cheerful.
“It’s not like I’m sitting around waiting. I’m working,” Thomas added, admonishing Phoebe with a wave of his hand.
Deborah buried her face behind the menu and tried to change the subject. “I just love the tortilla soup. Have you guys been here before?”
“I have,” Phoebe said. “And I love the soup too.”
“Well, I haven’t. What’s the big deal?” Thomas snapped.
Deborah could feel Triage tap her gently under the table, but she refused to look at him, knowing that he had a “Who is this guy?” expression on his face.
After they placed their orders, Deborah and Phoebe fought to find a topic that would make Thomas feel comfortable, but to no avail. When Triage became as quiet as Thomas, Phoebe excused herself to go to the rest room, and Deborah followed.
“I’m sorry,” Phoebe apologized as soon as the bathroom door closed behind them. “Thomas is being a complete jerk tonight.”
“What’s wrong with him?” Deborah asked as she pulled out her lipstick.
Phoebe sighed. “He accused me of flirting with the valet. Can you believe it? I think I’m going to have to get rid of this one. Anyway, tell me about you and Triage.” Phoebe smiled. “Looks like things are moving along.”
“Let’s talk about it tomorrow,” Deborah said. “I don’t want to leave my man out there with yours for too long.”
“I know what you mean.” Phoebe laughed. “I don’t want to go out there myself.”
They struggled through dinner, though by the time they drove home, Triage and Deborah were laughing about Thomas.
“Just make sure you never embarrass me like that.” Deborah chuckled.
“Are you kidding? Moi? I’m a lover, baby, not a fighter.”
“Oh,” she moaned. “I thought you were a writer. Couldn’t you come up with a better line than that?”
Triage kissed her at the door and waited until she went inside. It didn’t matter where they were or whom they were with. Their time together was just getting better and better.
CHAPTER 37
DEBORAH AND TRIAGE CUDDLED IN FRONT OF THE fireplace. The living room windows were open, and a warm late-morning breeze waltzed through the room.
Deborah tucked her legs underneath her and picked up the box she’d wrapped for Triage. As he reached for it, she suddenly pulled it back.
“Do you know how hard it is to buy something for you?”
“Just give me my gift.” He laughed.
She brought it behind her back. “First, listen to me, Triage. I’m trying to be serious.”
Triage laid his hands in his lap and sat stoically. “Okay, go ahead.”
“It’s so hard to find something for you. I wanted to get you something special that would tell you just how I feel about you.”
He smiled and ran his hand along her cheek. “Can I please have my present?”
She handed it to him, then held her breath. While he opened the box, she squeezed her eyes shut.
“This is beautiful.”
She opened her eyes and watched as he turned the leather book over in his hand. “This is just like the journal I got you,” he said, looking up at her.
She nodded. “I wanted to find something that was similar, but there is one difference.” She reached over and opened the pages. “For the last few months, I’ve been writing in this. Some are songs I’ve written, some are poems, some are just my thoughts about you.”
He was silent as he flipped through the pages. The long moments of quiet unnerved Deborah.
“If you don’t like it . . .”
He finally looked at her. “Deborah, this is so special. Thank you.”
She finally breathed.
“Now I don’t know if I should give you this.” Triage held a small box in his hand.
She playfully snatched it from him and shook the box. “It’s too small for a house or a car. Hmmmm . . . maybe it’s a boat!”
Triage laughed. “Very funny.”
Deborah tore into the gold paper and opened the container that held a scarlet velvet music box. She pulled up the lid and listened to the melody. “I’ve heard this before,” she said, squinting and trying to remember.
“It’s a song I’ve been working on. You heard me playing it, but you didn’t know that I was writing it for you. It’s called ‘Our Love Is Perfect.’”
Her eyes filled with tears, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I love you.”
“I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.” He gently ran his fingers along her face. “Because I love you too.”
Deborah had no idea how long they sat on the floor, holding each other and kissing, but when she looked up at the clock, she suddenly stood up, sending T
riage tumbling.
“We’re going to be late.”
Looking at the clock, Triage jumped up and straightened his pants.
“Give me five minutes and I’ll be ready.” Deborah ran into her bedroom.
They walked hand in hand into Macedonia and joined the other volunteers who were serving dinner and passing out gifts to the homeless. As Deborah piled the plates high with food, she watched Triage from the corner of her eye. He played with the children, handed out toys, and signed autographs.
“That is some man you got there,” remarked Miriam Kelly, the woman they sat next to in church every week.
“I know.” Deborah smiled as she scooped macaroni and cheese and yams onto the plates.
It was after five when they finally drove to Triage’s house for a catered dinner of Cornish game hens stuffed with wild rice. They talked softly of past Christmases and their hopes for future ones.
They were late getting to Phoebe’s house for dessert, but the moment they walked through the door to her large townhouse, Phoebe pulled Deborah into her bedroom.
“My goodness, you’re glowing.” Phoebe smiled. She lifted Deborah’s hand and searched her fingers. “’Fess up. Did you guys become engaged or something?”
Deborah laughed. “No, it was something better. He told me that he loved me.”
Phoebe hugged her. “You’re right. That is better.”
“How was your Christmas?” Deborah asked as they went into the living room to join the other guests.
“Peaceful! Girl, I gave myself a great gift. I got rid of Thomas.”
“Oh,” was all Deborah could say.
“Now don’t be pretending that you’re sad or anything. You’re just too nice to tell me the truth. I should have gotten rid of that man a long time ago.”
“Well, now that you mention it . . .”
They laughed as they joined Lavelle and Vianca at the piano to sing “Silent Night.” As Deborah leaned back with her head on Triage’s chest, she couldn’t remember a better Christmas Day.
CHAPTER 38
IT SEEMED LIKE WEEKS HAD PASSED SINCE DEBORAH was last onstage, and it wasn’t until she sat in her dressing room that she realized how much she’d missed it.
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