“Want to get in on the action next week?”
I nodded. “I do.”
We approached Pastor Lucklow after the service.
Zander asked him, “Pastor, is it too late to sign up for the baptism next week? Jayda has been a Christian for about eight months, but she hasn’t been baptized yet.”
Pastor Lucklow smiled. “The class is this afternoon. Will you have time to attend?”
“I’ll make time, Pastor,” I answered.
“Then I look forward to baptizing you next week.” He glanced around. “Do you also have a moment for a brief word?”
“Of course.”
He took us aside where the noise was less and asked, “I believe you visited Celebrate Recovery Thursday evening, Zander? What did you think of the group and its ministry?”
Zander squeezed my hand. “I think the Lord wants me to help with this ministry, Pastor.”
“I have spoken to Tom and Becky, and they tell me that those they’ve talked to in the group agree, brother. How would you propose that we work you into the leadership of the program?”
I recognized the joy that flashed across Zander’s face. I had seen it when he preached in the park to the homeless; I had seen it when he preached at DCC back in Albuquerque. It was the joyful passion of sharing Jesus with others.
“Easing me into the role over a couple of weeks would be best, Pastor. I can attend, participate, and get to know the members better before we make it official.”
“That’s very wise, young man. I appreciate your approach. The program leadership is a part-time staff position. What do you say to us starting your salary in two weeks?”
“I accept, Pastor.”
We both sighed. An answered prayer!
We had lunch after church with Tom and Becky to celebrate Zander’s appointment and get to know them better. It was fun feeling like we’d made our first “couple” friends—although observing them rope, “rassle,” and corral four active kids (ages five through eleven) in the restaurant was a bit like watching Olympic-class cat wranglers.
When the food arrived, silence descended on the table and Tom prayed a blessing. The kids tucked into their lunches, and I marveled. “Wow. You guys have mad skills.”
“Comes with the territory,” Becky said. “Every day you either win or lose—and you can’t afford to lose, not even once.”
She favored me with a friendly wink. “You’ll find out.”
I smiled, nodded, and toyed with my fried chicken. With the addition of hormones to my daily routine, the aggravating hot flashes were beginning to subside, but each morning’s pill was a reminder that my body’s reproductive system was at the end of its life. Nevertheless, I was determined not to indulge in any self-pity. It was a luxury that sported a hefty spiritual price tag.
I was beginning to understand that every day came with its own spiritual battles and, like Becky said, I could not afford to lose, not even once.
Maybe I wasn’t ever going to “find out” as Becky had suggested, but I had made my peace with not having children of my own. My life was replete—and complicated enough—as it was.
AFTER LUNCH WITH TOM, Becky, and their brood, we went home and changed into shorts and t-shirts. We gathered the meals I’d prepared, drove to the Uumbanas’ home and, arms laden with plastic containers and a wrapped baby gift, rang their doorbell.
Macy and her husband lived in a modest home not far from Ft. Meade. We heard squeals and laughter as heavy footsteps trod to the other side of the door. A tall man with a little boy riding high on his shoulders threw open the door. The man looked like he’d slept in his clothes and had just gotten up.
“Hi. You must be Zander and Jayda. I’m Darius and this—” he swung the giggling boy down and plopped him onto his feet “—this is Daniel. Say ‘hello,’ Danny.”
Instead, the boy buried his face in his dad’s pant legs.
“C’mon, Danny. Say ‘hello.’”
“No!”
Zander and I laughed.
“Well, come on in,” Darius said. “Macy is in the bedroom, but she’ll be out shortly.”
“We came bearing gifts—mostly the edible kind,” I said. “One hot meal for this evening and three frozen meals. You might want to put the frozen food back into the freezer if you have room.”
Darius seemed touched and a little overwhelmed. “That’s really kind of you folks. I-I don’t know what to say.”
“You could say, ‘What’s for dinner?’” Zander joked, relieving the pressure.
“Whatever it is, it smells delicious. Um, follow me. I’ll show you the kitchen.”
The kitchen was a wreck. Dirty dishes and fast food containers were stacked haphazardly everywhere.
“I’m sorry the place is a mess. I work nights and sleep during the day. Well, I’m supposed to sleep during the day. Things are a little chaotic right now what with trying to get two newborns to sleep at the same time.”
“Why don’t you guys get to know each other? I’ll put the food away.”
Darius, with Daniel on his shoulders again, led Zander out onto their little patio. I set to work on the kitchen. I had put the food away, cleared up the trash, and had most of the dishes in hot soapy water when Macy found me.
She had one swaddled bundle on her shoulder, and she seemed happy but weary. Circles hung under her dark eyes. “Look at you, Jayda! Are you an angel of mercy?”
“Hardly,” I laughed. “Just a friend.”
I thought Macy was going to cry.
I reached for her and we hugged. “Hey,” I said softly. “This is what friends do.”
“The minute my mom left, everything went to the dogs. Darius started working extra hours to make up for the time he missed when the babies were born and I . . . haven’t kept up.”
She sniffed. “The babies are wonderful, but I’m still figuring out how to feed them both at the same time, so they will sleep at the same time—which translates to little sleep for me. Between them and Danny, I’m practically comatose.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll get it figured out.” I tried to lift her spirits. “Do you guys like spaghetti? That’s the sauce in that pan on the stove. The pasta is in that microwavable dish; it’s already cooked and just needs to be heated up along with the bread. And there’s fresh salad in the fridge.”
“I’m sorry I asked if you were an angel, Jayda. You obviously are.”
I laughed. “Naw, girl! Now, tell me about those babies.”
“Would you rather see?”
“Would I!”
She slid the bundle from her shoulder into the crook of her arm. “This is Deshaun.”
I stared in awe at the perfect—albeit squishy—little face. Deshaun’s head was topped with a mass of black, spiraling hair. One arm wriggled free and stretched up over his head. My gaze was drawn to his tiny fingers and miniscule fingernails.
“Oh, Macy. He’s so beautiful.”
“I have another just like him in the bedroom.”
We giggled. Deshaun stretched and arched his back and cracked one eye. It didn’t last long. He went limp in blissful sleep.
“I guess I should try to put him down while I can.”
“I’ll finish up here while you do.”
I had finished the dishes, swept the floor, and made a pitcher of lemonade from a can of powdered mix when Macy returned.
“Lemonade?” I offered.
“Would you consider moving in with us?” she joked.
We laughed again and took glasses out to the men.
Later, after we’d enjoyed a fun and relaxing few hours with Macy and Darius, Daniel tugged at Macy’s shirt.
“Mama. Babies woke-ded up. They’s hungry.”
Little Daniel’s manner was so serious and concerned that Zander and I hooted. Daniel didn’t like that and launched a scowl in our direction to let us know.
“You hear them crying, honey?” Macy asked.
“Yas. They’s hungry.”
“I’l
l bet they are. Well, let’s go get them, shall we?”
He nodded vigorously, then pointed at me. “You come.” I was surprised—and it was more of a command than a request.
“You want me to come, too?”
“Yas. You come.”
He grabbed my hand and led me into the house, down a hall, to a bedroom. The high, unmistakable cries of two newborns rattled the closed door.
“Ay-yi-yi,” Macy muttered. “Little vampires!”
We crept inside. The two babies were in the same bassinet, one at the head, the other at the foot. Both were wailing, and the bassinet shook with their energy.
“Why don’t you pick up Deshaun while I get Denzel?”
I didn’t know much about holding babies. Macy laughed when she saw me holding my little bundle straight out in front of me like a hot casserole dish.
“Hoo, girl! You are a newbie, aren’tcha?”
“Help. I haven’t a clue.”
She put Denzel in the crook of her arm. “Like this. They fit just so.”
While she fed a hungry Denzel, I managed to get Deshaun into a reasonable imitation of Macy’s example. It must have been okay, because the tiny boy settled and drifted into sleep.
He was so perfect, so beautiful, he took my breath away. I marveled at his clear, bronze skin and the long eyelashes that laid like feathers on his cheeks.
I spent half an hour staring at Denzel’s contented face before Zander and Darius came inside. Daniel was hanging over his dad’s arm, zonked out. At Zander’s nod, I remembered we had the baptism meeting shortly and our regular meeting with Gamble after that. “Oh, wow. It’s later than I thought. We should get going. You guys probably need to nap when the kids do!”
Zander cleared his throat. “I was telling Darius about Celebrate Recovery and, of course, that led to me telling him I’m a pastor. Macy, Darius, before we go, would you mind if Jayda and I prayed a blessing over your family?”
Macy’s brows lifted. “Um . . . what do you think, Dare?”
Darius looked uncomfortable, but he answered, “Yeah. I’d like that.”
I placed my free hand on Macy’s shoulder; Darius drew near his wife, and Zander put his hand on his shoulder.
“Lord God,” Zander prayed, “You see this beautiful couple, and you love that they have set their hearts to raise these children well. We ask, Lord, that you would give them wisdom—your infallible wisdom—and give them the understanding and patience they need to continue as they have begun. Lord, we ask you to bless this family and draw them to you, in Jesus’ name. Amen.”
“Amen,” I whispered.
Darius and Macy were quiet, but when they looked at each other, something good and precious passed between them, and I smiled.
“We’re glad you came, Jayda and Zander,” Macy said. “We’d love for you to come again.”
TRUJILLO KNOCKED SOFTLY on the rear door of Gamble’s rented house. He opened without a word and closed the door behind her before speaking.
“Thanks for coming, Trujillo.”
“Not much has changed since we last met.”
He snorted a laugh. “On your end, maybe.”
“Oh? Now you’ve made me curious.”
“I think you’ll be more than curious before the evening is over. First, I want to assure you that we’ve swept this house. It’s clean. Tonight is the first time since I rented it that anyone could have seen me come in.”
She eyed him. “That’s an oddly worded statement.”
“Yeah. I know. You’ll understand in a bit. I also wanted you to know that I’ve spoken to our mutual acquaintance. He has authorized me to bring you in on our operation.”
Trujillo lowered her voice. “Just checking: You’re saying the President has authorized you to bring me in?”
Gamble nodded.
Then she held up a hand. “Wait. You’re conducting an op for the President?”
“Let’s sit down and I’ll explain.”
Gamble outlined Harmon’s plan to assassinate the President. He didn’t get into the weeds explaining how Harmon’s plan was thwarted—not immediately.
“The President—and rightly so—has a low level of trust at the moment. Furthermore, the circle that knows about our other friends must remain small and tight.”
“Other friends?”
“We have a lot of ground to cover this evening, Trujillo.”
GAMBLE HAD ASKED US to meet him at the house this evening rather than at his car. It wasn’t a strange request, just a departure from our established routine. When we let ourselves in the rear door, we saw why: He wasn’t alone.
“Uh, Gamble?”
“Come in. Jayda, Zander, you remember Agent Trujillo?”
We did, of course, but she did not recognize Jayda. Her eyes slid from me to Zander and back. She was unable to hide her disbelief and suspicion.
“This woman is Gemma Keyes? I don’t think so, Gamble.”
Gamble spoke to us. “The President has asked me to bring Agent Trujillo in on our operation. He has two purposes in mind by involving her. One, we’re short on resources we can trust. Trujillo here already knows most of your back story, and she stuck her neck out for you when things came to a head in Albuquerque. In the President’s mind, she’s proved her loyalty.”
He pointed at me. “Jayda, would you mind doing that thing, so Agent Trujillo can see Gemma?”
The nanomites dissolved their disguise; Trujillo gasped and fell back a step.
“H-how . . . how did you do that?”
“We’ll get to that in a moment. Like I said, we have a lot of ground to cover. Jayda and Zander, although Trujillo’s chain of command has been conspicuously silent since Cushing died, the President believes her new handler will eventually initiate personal contact with her. That’s his second purpose for bringing her aboard: When Trujillo’s handler contacts her, we’ll use you two to backtrace that individual up the chain and, hopefully, snag a bigger fish.”
Gamble gestured to the living room furniture. “Let’s all take a seat and bring Trujillo up to speed. Jayda? Why don’t you start.”
When the nanomites restored Jayda’s features, I began the necessary overture. “Agent Trujillo, the last time we met—the night Cushing blew up my house—you said that you didn’t know everything about me or why Cushing was so desperate to capture me. You also said you’d seen things that didn’t make sense. I think your exact words were, ‘things that boggle the mind.’”
“That’s right.” She looked to Gamble. “Are you going to explain all that to me now?”
Gamble pointed at me. “She will.”
I chuckled under my breath. “This is going to take a while.”
It took two hours, what with all the questions and various demonstrations.
Trujillo was a seasoned operator. In the field she’d witnessed the stuff of nightmares and had probably participated in her share of them. None of her experiences had prepared her to suspend disbelief at what could only be construed as supernatural powers at first blush.
“This is the last time you’ll see Gemma Keyes,” I warned her. “She died last December.”
The nanomites reassembled Jayda’s features, and Trujillo blinked multiple times, trying to process everything we’d revealed to her. She was silent as she studied my altered features.
“My name is Jayda now, and Zander and I are married. Our task is to flush out the remains of Harmon’s conspiracy against the President. Gamble is right: We’re shorthanded and could really use another set of eyes and ears. If the President says you can be trusted, we’ll trust you.”
“I-I, of course, whatever the President asks of me. I’m in.”
With that, Gamble took over the meeting. Zander and I reported our findings from the week and answered a bazillion questions.
We didn’t get to bed until after three in the morning.
Chapter 18
MONDAY, THE START OF another week—the day Abe and Emilio would arrive. Zander left the apar
tment early to again check the White House for bugs. Later, he would pick up Abe and Emilio from the Baltimore airport. I would have to wait until my workday was over to see them.
My thoughts were on Abe and Emilio’s visit, and my usual attention to my work was “off.” Too off to do any lunchtime sleuthing, so I went to the cafeteria with Chantelle and Lynn. While we ate, I filled them in on our visit with Macy and her family.
“She’s doing okay, but she looked tired. Juggling the three-year-old and the twins means she isn’t getting a lot of sleep.”
“You took them some meals?”
“Yes.”
Chantelle looked at Lynn. “We could do that, too. Put a few more meals in their freezer.”
“I’m game if you are. Let’s do it.”
“Do you and your husband have plans for the Fourth, Jayda?” Chantelle asked.
“Yes. We have family arriving from New Mexico this afternoon—well, they are as close to family as I have, since I don’t have any relations.”
I had to explain about Abe and Emilio—but from Jayda’s perspective, not Gemma’s.
“When I met Zander, he was the associate pastor at Abe’s church. Abe and Zander were good friends. When Zander and I started dating, Abe took me on, too. He became something of a grandfather figure to me.
“Emilio, who is eleven going on forty-five, lived with his uncle, Abe’s next-door neighbor. Unfortunately, Emilio’s home life wasn’t very good. His uncle was involved in criminal activities. Drugs. Gangs. That sort of thing.”
Chantelle and Lynn’s eyes widened.
I shrugged. “It happens. Then Emilio’s uncle up and disappeared, leaving Emilio alone.”
“Disappeared?”
“Yes. We still don’t know what became of him.” Not the specifics, anyway.
Smiling, I added, “Abe took Emilio in and is now fostering him. Zander and I consider Emilio ours, too. Kind of a group project. That’s how I came to regard Abe and Emilio as family.”
“That’s amazing,” Lynn said.
“Yup. We’re pretty jazzed that they are coming to visit. Zander will take them around D.C. tomorrow. On Wednesday, we’re planning to do the Independence Day parade and watch the fireworks on the Mall that night.”
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