by Rhonda Bowen
“She said it to Jordan. He told me, then asked me why we were still friends,” Naomi recalled the conversation they’d had when she told him who her bridesmaids were going to be.
“Well, let me put all of that nonsense to bed for you,” Amanda said. “My brother was taken with you long before the invitations for that barbeque ever went out.”
Naomi turned to look at Amanda in surprise.
“Remember that Thirty under Thirty gala where you gave the speech about how the award helped you build all this?” Amanda motioned to the building behind them.
“Yeah,” Naomi said.
“Remember that floor-length orange dress with the very low back?” Amanda asked. “My brother spotted you the minute you walked through the door. He couldn’t take his eyes off you all night.”
Naomi’s eyes widened. “I didn’t even know he was there! Why didn’t he speak to me that night?”
“You know why.”
Naomi thought about it a moment then smiled. She did know why. Because that was Jordan. He never got into anything major without doing his research and having a plan first.
“So he thought I was something major,” Naomi smiled.
“Girl, you would not believe how he twisted my arm to get you invited to that barbecue,” Amanda said with a laugh. “I don’t know what he would have done if you had decided not to show.”
So Jordan had been serious from the start. Even when they had dated only occasionally, he had already known how he felt about her. Naomi sighed and put her face in her hands.
“It’s too late,” Naomi groaned from behind her hands. “He said he doesn’t even know me. And he’s right.”
Amanda squeezed Naomi’s arm again. “Then maybe it’s time you introduced yourself.”
Chapter Twenty
The air was warm and filled with the scent of sweet alyssums as Naomi stepped through the heavy metal door. The sound of the city was nothing but a distant hum as she walked the stone pathway across the rooftop garden. The skinny needled blue star junipers that looked like chia pets the last time she was here now resembled beautiful blue-green oversized hedgehogs as they lined the path that led deeper into the garden. They were not the only things that had grown. Everything was coming in fuller than before, with a carefully tamed wildness that accompanied a mature garden.
Naomi found Ilana near the pergola pruning away the Japanese wisteria, the vines of which had spread in a network across the top and sides of the pergola, adding a beautiful covering of violet flowers to the covered sitting area. The beauty did not deceive Naomi however. She had been here long enough to know that if left untamed, the wisteria would take over the entire garden, which explained why Ilana was always so fastidious about keeping it in check.
“Still fighting your battle with the wisteria I see,” Naomi drew closer.
“It is a continuous struggle,” Ilana clipped away with her shears. “Sometimes I win, sometimes she does.”
Naomi leaned against the side of the pergola. “Well, it looks like you have her in line today.”
Ilana sighed and put down her shears. “I can only hope.”
Then she turned to Naomi and smiled. “It’s been a long time, my dear.”
She opened her arms and Naomi fell into them. Ilana was small, her head barely reached Naomi’s chin. But when she hugged her, Naomi felt all the warmth in the world. She squeezed back the tears that sprang to her eyes.
“Too long,” Naomi whispered. “I am sorry I didn’t return your calls.”
Ilana let her go and shrugged. “It is what it is. You did not like what I had to say. I understand.”
Naomi let out her sigh. “But you were right, Ilana. I wasn’t ready. I’m still not.”
Instead of answering, Ilana tucked her hand in Naomi’s and led her to the wrought iron table and benches under the pergola. There was already a tray with tea and snacks set out. And when she touched the teapot to pour for each of them, it was still warm.
“I am glad you decided to come today,” Ilana said as she tipped honey into her teacup and stirred. “When Rhea told me that you called and made an appointment, I thanked God for answered prayers.”
Naomi stopped stirring her own tea and stared. “You were praying for me?”
“I pray for all my children, my dear,” Ilana said. “Especially the ones I know are still hurting.”
Naomi’s eyes fell to her lap. “He called off the wedding, Ilana.”
The woman took a sip from her tea. “What happened?”
“Garth.”
“Ahhh,” Ilana said as she put her teacup on the table. When she looked up at her, Naomi could see the sadness in the woman’s eyes. Her sadness. The sadness they both carried for everything that the past held. “So, he found out.”
“Yes.” Naomi told the whole story from the first suspicion that Camille was missing, to the drama in Trinidad, to sending back the wedding ring, which she had done the week after she came back to New York. As she told that part she couldn’t help but look down at her left ring finger. It still felt light from the absence of the proof of Jordan’s love.
Naomi shook her head. “You were right. I wasn’t ready to get married. Not with everything in my past. Maybe I’ll never be ready.”
“So you have given up then?”
“No...yes...” Naomi pressed her fingers to her eyes. She didn’t want to cry. Not anymore. She had cried a million tears already. But it seemed like she wasn’t done yet. “I don’t know if it’s worth trying anymore.”
She dropped her hands. “How could I let Garth do this to me? Again? After everything, how could I let him...what is wrong with me?”
She couldn’t stop the tears now, or the sobs that choked her throat as she sat in the middle of Ilana’s beautiful rooftop garden and faced the ugliness of her life.
She felt the air shift next to her. Arms encircled her as Ilana slipped onto the bench and pulled her into another embrace. Naomi willingly leaned against her shoulder. She bawled like it was the first time her life had fallen apart instead of the fifth or sixth. It seemed no matter what she did, she always ended up back here at rock bottom.
Ilana stroked her hair and rocked her gently in her arms. She hummed something that Naomi didn’t recognize. Whatever it was, it calmed her. Her sobs subsided.
“You know when my Nathan was alive this whole garden used to be covered,” Ilana said. “It was one big pergola covered in lattice. Of course, there were parts you could open and he did open them during the summer and spring. But he liked having the option to close it. Said it kept the birds from eating his flowers.”
Naomi sat up from Ilana’s arms and looked around at the large open space, unable to imagine it completely covered over the way Ilana described. “What happened to it?”
“After Nathan died, I took it all down,” Ilana said.
Naomi looked over at the woman in surprise.
“I know,” Ilana said with a wave of her hand. “I loved that man, rest his soul, but I hated the garden feeling like a prison, so I had it all ripped down, and left just this little part covered.”
“Anyway, before it all came down, we used to have lots of birds come by. They would fly around over the top of the garden and come inside when the openings were left down all through the spring and summer, then they took off late fall and winter. Well, most of them anyway,”
Ilana sat forward. “You see those two over there?”
Naomi squinted in the direction where Ilana pointed and saw moving bursts of bright color. “Those yellow ones?”
“Those are my goldfinches,” Ilana said proudly. “I’m not completely sure, because I don’t know that much about birds, but I am sure they’ve been in this garden for years.”
Naomi raised an eyebrow. “Years?”
Ilana nodded. “I am almost certain. You see, before the lattice came down we would have lots of birds fly through here and get trapped. Maybe Nathan would close the openings too early one day, or they would just hang
around but not be able to find their way out when they tried to leave. We always had at least three or four stuck in here. When we had the lattice removed, I was sure they would fly away. But those two never did. We have had whole flocks of finches come through for a season then move on. It’s what finches do. But those two never left. Never flew beyond the height of the pergola, never strayed beyond the bounds of the walls.” Ilana tilted her head to the side thoughtfully. “The barriers are gone, but it’s as if they are still there for them.”
When she didn’t say anything more, Naomi turned towards Ilana and found that the older Messianic Jewish woman watched her.
“I think, my dear, that you are like my little goldfinches.” She touched Naomi’s arm gently. “You are free, but you act as if you are not. The pergola of hurt that Garth put on you is gone. He is gone. But you have built up walls and ceilings of shame for yourself. You live in your shame, my dear, and it has imprisoned you.”
Naomi closed her eyes as the cold reality of the truth washed over her. Was that what she was doing?
“I want to hate him, Ilana,” Naomi whispered. “And a part of me does. But a part of me remembers who he was, the good and the bad. And I guess... I think...maybe, it was me. Maybe if I was different...”
She felt Ilana touch her chin. Naomi opened her eyes to meet her gaze. “You think if you were different that what? That Garth would not have hurt you the way he did? That he would be a different person?”
Ilana grabbed her hands tightly. “This is not your fault, Naomi. Who he is, that is not your fault, nor is it in your power to fix. You don’t need to feel ashamed because of what he did to you.”
“I should never have called him.” Naomi shook her head. “I should never have let him back into my life, let him touch me. Why did I let him touch me, Ilana? Why did my body still...”
“Because you are human,” Ilana said. “Because you once knew this man intimately and your body remembers that. But your mind is a different place. And your mind chooses what you do. Yes, it was a bad decision to put yourself in a position to be alone with him like that again. But forgive yourself and let it go. God has already forgiven you, my dear.”
Naomi shook her head, as the lump crawled back up her throat. “I know. I just don’t feel it...I feel so....” she sighed as the word came back again. “I feel so ashamed.”
Ilana turned her face to look at her again. “You have to let it go, my dear. Romans 8 tells us clearly there is therefore now no condemnation to them who are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh but after the Spirit. You have surrendered to Him so do not be led around by your flesh, by your feelings. You have to depend on the Spirit to guide you. And you have to believe that you have been made whole despite how you may feel. Feelings are a trick of the enemy. But God’s word is true. And His word says that if any man is in Christ, he is a new creation. You are that new creation. You just have to believe it.”
That had always been the hard part for her. Believing it. Believing that Christ had truly forgiven her for what she had done. Believing that she had no reason to be ashamed in Him. Believing that she was valuable in spite of everything in her past.
“I want to believe,” Naomi whispered.
Ilana pulled her closer and Naomi laid her head on the woman’s chest.
“Dear God, I present to you your child, Naomi,” Ilana prayed. “Your precious jewel. One for whom You died. Help her to know how much You love her. Help her to accept fully the new life she has in You. And help her to let go of her shame. Heal her in her broken places, and make her whole. I give her into Your hands, amen.”
Naomi didn’t feel immediately different. There was no rushing wind that blew all her doubts away. But something did change. Somewhere in the depth of her heart, she decided to believe. Despite her feelings, despite what the past told her. She had been saved. She was forgiven. That would never change and she was never going back. And as she talked some more with Ilana, the weight that she had been carrying around for weeks seemed to slowly ease away.
“I can’t believe it’s been six months since the last time we talked like this,” Naomi shook her head as they walked together through the garden. “I was so mad when you weren’t happy about my engagement to Jordan.”
“It was never about you and Jordan, my dear,” Ilana said “I believe he is a good man. But secrets tear people apart. And you were not ready to share yours.”
“Looks like they ended up coming out anyway.”
Ilana looked across at her. “Did they?”
Naomi frowned.
“There is a story only you can tell, Naomi.” Ilana said. “You have to be willing to tell that story.”
Cold washed over Naomi as she thought about Ilana’s words and then about her conversation with Amanda. Jordan thought he knew her. But even with what he had recently learned, Naomi realized he still didn’t really know her. He knew facts about her - she had finally given him that much - but she still hadn’t let him know her completely.
Ilana rubbed Naomi’s arm where small goose bumps arose. “It is okay to be afraid. But perfect love casts out all fear. If his love for you is true, then it will not change with the truth.”
Naomi knew that. She knew the kind of man Jordan was. He would never blame her for anything she told him. The problem wasn’t with him - it was with her. How could she relive a truth to someone else that she was too afraid to face herself?
Chapter Twenty-One
Naomi hated basements.
She wasn’t sure if it was the claustrophobic feel of a room with lower ceilings and no windows, or the fact that they reminded her of the cellar under their house in Trinidad where her brother had threatened to lock her when they were little. Whatever it was, she avoided basements as much as possible. Even when she sold her house and had to store her furniture in the basement of the Street Life building, she had stood at the top of the stairs and supervised the process from there rather than come down into the basement itself.
But here she was nonetheless, back in that same basement. And this time, she would have to go a little further than the top of the stairs.
She hit the switch and fluorescent lighting illuminated the large unfinished space. To the right were old media materials, boxes of archived issues of the magazine, and clunky promotional materials from trade shows and events. To the left were couches, lamps, a couple end tables and boxes upon boxes of Naomi’s life. These should have been moved to the house that Jordan had closed on three months earlier. But it seemed like they would have to stay put for the foreseeable future. She headed left stepping over a hassock and a crate marked fragile before she found what to she was looking for.
It was still there.
A layer of dust covered the polished wooden surface and the combination lock that secured the contents inside. It hadn’t been opened in a long time. Even before it had come to rest in the Street Life basement. But now it had to be.
Even as she stood in front of the box, knowing what she needed to do, Naomi couldn’t make herself move. She couldn’t even make herself reach for the box. Just the thought of letting everything out...
Her head felt light. She sank down onto the crate marked fragile, forgetting about its contents. She sat there, made herself breathe normally. She heard footsteps.
“A little lost?”
Naomi didn’t look up at Natasha. “You could say so. How did you know I was here?”
“David saw you come down,” Natasha leaned against a dresser. “When you didn’t resurface right away he found me.”
“Worried about me?”
“Or about his job security in case you decide to do something drastic.”
Naomi wished she could crack a smile but she remained only a few breaths away from hyperventilating.
“So you wanna tell me what this is about?”
“Wouldn’t know where to start.”
And that was the truth. What was in that box, even Natasha didn’t know the full extent of.
> “Would I be correct in guessing it has something to do with Jordan?”
Naomi nodded.
“And that box?”
Naomi nodded.
Natasha sighed. “You want to show him the journals.”
Naomi finally looked up at her best friend. The concern in her eyes confirmed exactly how serious this was.
“Nay...you sure that’s a good idea? I mean, you’ve never even showed me the journals and we’ve been friends since the sixth grade.”
“He said he doesn’t know me,” Naomi eyes fell back to the locked chest. “Everything in there...that’s me. The whole me.”
“That’s a part of you,” Natasha corrected. “A part of your past to be exact. It’s not who you are.”
“But it’s the part of me that he doesn’t know,” Naomi stood. “And he deserves to know. Even if we never end up together, for all the years that we were, he deserves to understand.”
“Then just tell him.” Natasha grabbed her hands. “I’m sure if you sit down and talk to him face to face...”
“No!” Naomi shook her head. Talk to Jordan? Tell him what had happened all those years she had been with Garth? What she had done? She couldn’t even tell Ilana. That’s where the journals had come from in the first place. It had been Ilana’s idea to write it down and that’s how Naomi had told her the whole story. But saying the words out loud...
Cold sliced through her. She began to tremble.
“Okay, okay,” Natasha eased her back onto the crate and pulled up another one to sit down beside her. “I get it. Talking about it is not an option right now. But you will have to one day, Naomi.”
Naomi knew that. But today would not be that day.
They both looked over at the box that held more secrets than anyone should have. Natasha held Naomi’s hand.
“You can do this girl. If you could hustle your way into Carmelo Anthony’s limo for an interview at the ESPYs without getting a beat down from La-La, you can show Jordan some journals.”