by Janice Sims
He kissed her again and again. Delicately. Deliberately.
Deliciously.
Her shoulder. Her collar bone. The crook of her neck. The space behind her ear. The hollow of her cheek. Her eyelid.
By the time his lips touched hers, she was already melting into his body, already surrendering. This thing pulsing between them was no longer a harmless flirtation on her part. No longer a man retreating or a woman giving in to passion.
What they had together was a serious love affair. A serious dedication to each other.
A serious commitment.
She opened her eyes. He was already staring back. His dark topaz orbs were serious and playful at the same time.
His lips brushed warmly across hers. “Before I lose my mind, let’s go for a ride and talk about Malcolm.”
“I can’t go like this,” she said tugging at her casual clothes.
“Sure you can. Come on!”
He grabbed Renata’s wrist and her hand disappeared in his. When she got into Devin’s SUV, she was prepared to listen to any ideas he had about investigating the missing painting. Renata even had a couple of ideas of her own.
Devin spoke before she did. “Early this morning, I went back to the Smiths’ house. I’m sure you don’t want to hear why, but I’m going to say it anyway.” He turned on the engine and pulled into the street. “God led me back there.
“As my good blessing would have it, I had breakfast with Malcolm and the Smiths. Remarkable people. They are obviously getting on in years, but they were the most gracious, energetic, sincere hosts whose home I’ve ever had the pleasure of dining in. First, we all talked, broke bread, shared a laugh. After a short while, the couple went to sit on their front porch leaving me alone with Malcolm.
“After I assured him that I wasn’t there to turn him over to the police, we had a discussion—more like a meeting of the minds. And I realized something. Malcolm is not just like I was at that age. He’s smarter, wiser. It became very clear that all the anger that I was projecting onto him was coming from the resentment I have of myself for behaving like a fool in my youth. When the truth of that settled in my mind, I began to see Malcolm for the young man that he is and not the scoundrel that I used to be.
“That’s why, no matter what, I’m going to make sure that the painting is returned by whoever stole it.”
She turned to Devin then. So sure of himself, so calm. His resolve inspired her. Gave her confidence.
And the courage to say something that had been on her mind since last night.
“I love you, Devin.”
“Renata…I love you, too.”
Eleven
They arrived at the church just before the service began. It only took a few moments to confirm their suspicions. There had been someone else in the sanctuary last night. The first guard on duty, Brother Kellog, told them that Sister Edna had showed up like she sometimes did and just wanted to have a prayer meeting—with herself. He’d indulged her, but after a while, he’d forgotten that she was there.
According to Brother Kellog, she was probably still inside when he left and the second guard, Brother Banks, came on duty.
Grateful for the information, Renata was hoping to skip out before the service began, but no such luck. She and Devin had been investigating the theft for a few minutes too long, which meant the only polite thing to do would be to stay for the message. Besides, it would take Devin too long to drive her to her place and then get back in time to attend the service.
She swallowed the lump forming in her throat and followed Devin as he led her though the crowd to seats toward the middle of the sanctuary.
Renata sat down and blew out a breath. Although Red Oaks had a “come as you are” dress code, Renata felt way under-dressed in her cotton blouse and soft capris. The words claustrophobic and get out played in her mind over and over like phrases spoken in an echo chamber. She fidgeted, first with her clothing, then with the hymnals in the pocket in front of her. When she started clicking a pen she found in her pocket, Devin placed a calming hand over hers.
“Relax,” he whispered. “This is a house of worship and love. No one is out to get you.”
But that was just the problem. Every time she’d set foot in Red Oaks Christian Fellowship Church, she’d felt as though something, or rather, someone, was out to get her. And that it absolutely would not stop until she was taken over.
Her hands shook with nervousness. To keep at least one of them busy, she grabbed a fan and fanned herself furiously.
“Is it hot in here?” she asked, feeling sweat pop through her pores in tiny beads.
Devin bent nearer. His manly scent danced into her nostrils, calming her a bit. “No. It’s not.” He took the fan from her and placed it back into the pocket. Then he stretched his long arm around her and squeezed her close. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m here. Pastor Avery will probably talk about the importance of living right, and we’ll be out of here in no time. Since this kind of stuff doesn’t really interest you, try not to fall asleep,” he said, smiling.
Renata nodded, feeling suddenly that after today, she may find it hard to sleep for awhile. She glanced around the church and tried to order her thoughts. The sanctuary was packed with people wearing everything from fine rags to blue jeans. Some of the women had hairdos that must have taken days, not hours, to coif. These women were jeweled down and sparkling. The scene brought some of her more pleasant childhood church memories back to her, giving her a small measure of comfort.
True to Devin’s prediction, the first part of the service flew by with lightning-quick speed. Praise and worship, offering, and announcements all in a matter of minutes. Then Reverend Avery took the pulpit and Renata started to feel that she should have walked home instead of staying for the service.
She gulped and slowly realized that no matter what she did, no matter how hard she resisted, no matter how many excuses she came up with, she somehow kept ending up in Red Oaks Church. From the moment Devin had come into her life, she’d seen the inside of a church more times in the past few weeks than in the past few years.
It was always something, and today, this morning, it was her being in the presence of the man she loved. She sighed with the thought.
Love.
And she knew exactly when it had happened. When her attraction for the handsome toffee cool of a man had turned to love. It was the night of the entrepreneurial ministry, when she’d seen Devin in purpose. It was the walk they’d taken afterwards, when he’d comforted her. It was the way he’d made her laugh time and again. It was the way he’d taken on the challenge of Malcolm.
It was the moment he’d walked into her office.
Her heart had turned over in her chest and started beating to the phrase, “I love you, Devin McKenna. I love you.” And her body had thrummed that chant ever since.
Oh, she felt the same rush of anxiety being there. The same tingling sensation in the pit of her stomach. Her mouth had gone dry and every nerve ending in her body screamed for her to bolt out of there while she still had the chance.
Then like an answer to a prayer, Devin reached over, placed his hand on top of hers, and calmed her.
Reassurance flooded her body.
The skin beneath his large firm hand warmed. But there was nothing sensual about it. More like a life-affirming connectedness, and all the proof she needed to know that Devin’s feelings for her were strong. She hoped that he would always be there for her. The bridge over her troubled, unsure, hedonistic waters. Her stabilizer. And from now on, she would never have to worry about being afraid again.
When Pastor Avery moved and stood behind the pulpit, a tremor in Renata’s body made her swallow hard. Her palms became sweaty, and she rubbed them together hoping he would be quick.
He wasn’t.
As a matter of fact, he stood there for over a minute before he actually spoke. When he did, his eyes scanned the row upon row of parishioners, but his words settled directly upon her.
“Beloved of His word, I tell you I had a message prepared this morning.
“I had a message prepared, and it was good, too! I worked all week on it. I tell you, I was preparin’ some holy word gumbo for you to feast on up in here!”
“A-men!” someone shouted.
“I mean, I had gotten the divine roux just right! And the second I stepped behind the pulpit this morning, God tapped me on the shoulder and said, “I have something else for you, pastor.”
“Oh, beloved, listen to what I’m saying this morning. God said, ‘My plan is bigger than your plan. My plan is better than your plan.’ Now, some of you know what I’m talking about, some of you are just pretending to know what I’m talking about, and some of you wish you knew what I was talking about.”
Renata and Devin chuckled together.
Pastor Avery moved away from the pulpit and marched out into the congregation. His words propelled powerfully through the air, as if they leapt from his soul and were on their way to heaven.
“Oh y’all must excuse me today, but the Lord is talking. He’s talking this morning and He wants you to know that there was nothing you could do. There’s nothing anyone can do to change anything once God’s mind is made up. He wants you to know that His plan may not always be your plan, but He says—and I’m going to break it down for ya—He says, trust that it’s all good all the time.”
The deep remorse Renata felt for the loss of her brother spilled out of her in a quiet stream of tears. Devin pulled her closer, the look of loving concern on his face.
From a voice that had risen like thunder, came Pastor Avery’s calm admonishment. “Don’t ever think that you are in charge. Because when you do, the devil will exploit your ignorance. There are so many temptations, diversions, and wrong paths to walk that no one lowly human can do it all or know it all.”
“Yes,” Renata whispered, as the truth of the reverend’s words washed into her.
“Is there someone here today who has some unfinished business with the Lord? If you haven’t been placed in Christ, I ask that you please, please, please come. Meet him at the altar,” he coaxed. “He’s been waiting for you.”
Renata wiped her eyes and knew why she’d stayed away from church for so long. The truth had been waiting for her here. She glanced up at Devin, grateful that he’d been placed in her life to show her what she’d been missing.
She knew she would not join church today, but one day…maybe.
No one really knew much about Sister Edna. She walked to church every Sunday. She always came by herself. She had a tendency to talk to people that no one else could see.
She lived in a structure that just barely fit the definition of house. On the corner of Laughlin and Merit Streets, it appeared barely habitable and seemed to be held together by some invisible force. Devin walked up to the front porch, which was neat and tidy.
He crept up the weather-worn staircase praying that he didn’t fall through. It would be terrible luck if the wood crumbled beneath him and he broke his skull just when he’d finally created a life worth living by finding love.
Taking his time, he gave a cautious knock at the door. There was a flurry of voices behind it. Funny thing, but all of the voices sounded like variations of Sister Edna—only in different octaves. Finally, the large wooden door creaked loudly open.
“Oh, Brother McKenna,” she said, fussing with her hair. “Praise the Lord today.”
“Praise him,” Devin responded.
Her nervous fiddling traveled down the ties on her housedress. Sister Edna shook as though she might be suffering from palsy.
“Did you want something, Brother McKenna?”
“Yes,” he said, wishing he’d taken the time to plan a script. But since he hadn’t…“I was wondering if I could come in and speak with you about your, er, prayer service yesterday.”
“Certainly,” she responded swinging the door wider to let him enter.
As he stepped across the threshold, he rehearsed all the ways in which he could broach the subject of the painting. When he followed her out of the entryway and into the living room, he realized no rehearsal was necessary. The painting was propped up against the foot of a very old and overused couch.
His first thought about all of Sister Edna’s furniture was that it was second-hand. But upon longer inspection, it appeared more like third-or fourth-hand. And sprawled among the dilapidated and stained high-back chair, the crooked table, the fleabag couch and the painting, were stacks of Bibles, mounds of hymnals, and enough Red Oaks fans to wallpaper a room.
Chances were that Sister Edna had been appropriating items for years from every church she’d ever belonged to. By the looks of the painting and the stack of collection plates sitting on the floor next to it, Sister Edna had graduated to bigger and better things.
“May I use your bathroom?” he asked, partly concerned about what he would find there, but knowing he needed a place to use his cell phone in private.
“Certainly. This way.”
He followed her down a short, narrow hallway cluttered with church bulletins and ministry newsletters. He slipped on one but recovered before slamming butt first onto a carpet that looked as though it hadn’t been vacuumed in years.
Luckily, the bathroom was only a few steps away and surprisingly clean. He went inside, shut the door, and dialed directory assistance. When they answered, he asked for the number to the Red Oaks Health & Human Services Department, then sent a prayer to the Lord to bless him that he was making the right decision.
Twelve
“What you know about this!” Malcolm shouted. He stood directly in front of Devin’s face, taunting and ragging like a man about to go to war. He held his arms out to his sides and his head rocked back and forth like a bull. “Huh, huh? What you got to say now?”
Devin never blinked, flinched, or stepped back. Instead, he gave Malcolm a cool once-over and then spoke in measured tones. “I know you better step off before I break you off.” Then a half grin replaced the stern expression on Devin’s face.
“Give me that ball!” he said.
Renata chuckled. The Red Oaks church picnic had been in full swing all afternoon. While the older men from the congregation sweated over grills packed with hot dogs, hamburgers, ribs, and round steaks, the younger men split into teams and played football. The younger teens watched over the smaller children at the playground end of Metcalf Park, and the women—under the pretense of preparing side dishes—clustered together to talk about the men. Renata had a great time watching the guys Malcolm’s age open up a can of beat down on the men Devin’s age. Malcolm had just scored another touchdown, and was rubbing it in Devin’s face like a pro.
Renata had volunteered to hide the small metal crosses for the kids’ Faith Hunt which would take place that evening. Placing the crosses behind bushes and at the bases of trees, she took the opportunity to watch the men play their game—especially Devin and Malcolm. Renata was not used to seeing them getting along. Or rather, Devin having such a positive attitude toward Malcolm. The wall of dislike that Devin sometimes put between them had been intact until the painting incident. Renata placed a small cross in the petals of a tulip and wondered if Devin had recognized his own bias in the way the three members of the church had jumped to conclusions about Malcolm.
“Who’s baaaad now!” Devin shouted. His chest was heaving from having just run several yards to score a touchdown.
“Man, slow your roll before you have a heart attack!” came Malcolm’s response.
Funny how adversarial relationships have the opposite impact on men, Renata thought. The closest Devin and Malcolm had ever been was now, as they were trying to outscore each other on their imaginary gridiron.
They weren’t even this close after the apology, Renata remembered. She placed a cross near a drinking fountain, thinking back to when she, Devin, and Malcolm had gone back to the church and met with Sister Patterson, Brother Banks, and Sister Courtney about the missing painting. R
everend Avery himself had facilitated the meeting, and the apologies from the three members of the congregation had been heartfelt and sincere. After that, Devin had taken Renata and Malcolm out for pizza and the three of them had gotten along fine. They talked about Sister Edna, who seemed to be getting the help she needed at the town hospital, and how Success Unlimited seemed to be getting the help it needed, thanks to Renata’s reworking of the agency budget. Throughout dinner, Devin’s attitude toward Malcolm had obviously shifted and, in his own way, Devin was apologizing also.
When Devin had invited Renata to attend church the following Sunday, she’d refused. She wasn’t quite ready to become a regular church goer, but embracing that routine again was no longer out of the question and was something she was seriously considering.
When she was ready.
She was surprised to find that Malcolm had accompanied Devin to church on that Sunday, and although neither of them had provided her with any details, she could tell by the way they seemed more at ease in each other’s company that it had been another concession—this time on both their parts.
But she’d never seen them like this. She stopped her cross hiding for a moment and watched as the two men in her life talked trash to each other as if they’d been doing it for years. Another small victory, she thought. Maybe one day, they would actually be friends.
A perfect spring had turned into a perfect summer in Red Oaks. Every flower, plant, and tree had been treated to just enough sun, rain, and favorable temperature to the point where they all looked pregnant with green. Renata could almost hear the trees growing. She inhaled as deeply as she could, taking in the smells of loose dirt, oak, peaches from nearby peach trees, and the impending rain from an overcast sky. She hoped that the picnic would be over before they all got a good soaking.
“Miss Connor!” Malcolm shouted, jogging over to her and unexpectedly giving her a hug. He could barely breathe, but his excitement spilled over onto her. She’d never seen him so happy. “We stomped on those old guys!”