by Pat Simmons
Hallison thought she would be sluggish the next morning, but she was alert and full of praise energy when she walked into her office late. She was prepared to apply extra makeup to cover up any puffiness and dark circles around her eyes, but after patting it with cold water, there was no tell-tale signs of her abbreviated night's sleep. She smiled, knowing Samuel was removed from the devil's hit list. Hallison had even stayed on her knees a little longer, asking God to bless her and protect her from unseen dangers.
Before she could get comfortable in her chair behind her desk, Samuel called her office with questions about scriptures. She had patiently answered them, then reminded him she needed his department's report. "Church is church and business is business. I need your report, my new sanctified employee, on time, please." Hallison chuckled. She would've never guessed Samuel would've willingly sought redemption without her reading, preaching, and testifying about holiness. She hung up the phone, only to have it ring again.
"I don't have much time because my department's reviews are due to the director of personnel this afternoon. You know, she's a hard task master and just happens to be on the other end of the phone," Paula complained sarcastically. "But seriously, Hali, your love life trumps business, at least at the moment. How can you compare Trey to Malcolm? We've got to talk. We've got to pray, and we may have to fast."
Hallison ignored Paula's dramatics while glancing at the reports already stacked on her desk. Her second priority was to review the revised employee handbook with updated dress code and random drug testing. If she ate lunch that day, it would be a luxury.
She relented. "Okay, but I've got better news." She grinned, thinking. "I've got a praise report! Guess who got saved?"
"Who?"
Hallison's sigh was heavy as she mumbled, "I'll tell you all about it when you bribe me with a chicken salad and mango juice from the deli. I can only spare ten, maybe fifteen minutes tops," Hallison bargained. "If you can come with it now, then I'll squeeze you in for twenty minutes."
"See you in a few." Paula hurried off the phone.
As Hallison disconnected, her assistant carried in a vase of dark flowers, as if they were burnt, into her office. The arrangement was odd. She was accustomed to strong, bold, vibrant flowers. "These are for you, Miss Dinkins," she said, forcing a smile as she laid them on her desk then pushed them toward Hallison and left.
"Ooh. Who sent you those, Trey or Malcolm?" Paula wrinkled her nose as soon as she walked in.
"Neither." Hallison twisted her mouth, silently reading the card. "They're from Lisa Nixon. That woman hates me, so why would she want to send me flowers? These don't look like a friendship bouquet," Hallison stated as she read the card. Take my advice. Stay away from Malcolm. You don't want me as your enemy. Unfortunately for you, you already are. “Paula, can you believe this woman?" Hallison rolled her eyes at the unwarranted threat. She understood why God had her pray a little longer earlier that morning. Resist the devil and he will flee. Hallison planned to pray, resist, and keep her distance. "Malcolm has himself a barracuda."
"I would pitch that thing in the trash and stay at least five feet, or whatever the guidelines are in a restraining order, away from Malcolm." Paula handed Hallison her order, then unwrapped her sandwich, but she didn't take a bite. "Let's pray. Lord, please sanctify the food before us, the hands that prepared it, and fill the stomachs that are hungry. Your Word says in Psalm 27, that in the time of trouble you shall hide us. Jesus, we know no weapon formed against Hali shall prosper. Cover her with the blood of Jesus and protect her from the enemy. Amen."
They ate quietly for a few minutes before Paula began singing the praises of Trey, from his spiritual devotion to his fine stallion looks. "I can't believe you're yielding to temptation when Trey's been so good to and for you. Go ahead and act on your worldly emotions, and you're going to break Trey's heart, which in turn will break my baby's heart, which—"
"I've already talked to God about this sudden attraction or distraction, or whatever you want to call it." Hallison glanced at her watch.
"And?"
"Amen," she said, forking up a heap of salad and purposely stuffing it in her mouth, making her unable to respond. Hallison swallowed and answered confidently. "I heard Him tell me to trust Him."
Gathering her trash, Paula stood to leave. "Just make sure your ears are free of wax."
"Hold on. You'll never guess who repented, got his sins washed away and filled with God's Spirit last night."
Paula stopped in her tracks. Tilting her head, she stared. "If you tell me Malcolm, I won't believe it. That man would need a whole slew of witnesses and then some."
"Umm-hmm, then I won't tell you it was Malcolm. It was Samuel Smith." Hallison grinned and waited for it to register with Paula.
When it did, Paula screamed, "Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Fine, deep-voiced, and needed to be some woman's husband is delivered? Well, praise God. Some say God can't deliver. Hallelujah." She threw her hands up in the air before slapping them flat on Hallison's desk. "I need details, girl. When? What happened? Did someone die? Does he have AIDS?"
"Paula, go back to your office and finish your report. Samuel freely came."
God had given Trey the gift to discern spirits. The Lord had manifested the gift the day after the hospital incident in the floral store. God revealed Lisa was a sorcerer. To overcome the adversary, Trey had to couple his prayer with fasting to bring that spirit under subjection.
I will allow her lusts to consume her because of her reprobate mind, God said.
Trey arrived home from work still trying to come to terms with God's edict to give Hallison back to Malcolm. "How can I love her and leave her, Lord?" Surely she would notice his lack of interest or affections. Again, he didn't see how God's plan was going to work.
Your purpose is to bring them back together. My thoughts are not your thoughts. Neither are your ways mine, God said.
He checked his watch. Hallison had at least twenty minutes before she left her office. Trey planned to relish his current fiancée until God gave him direction. He picked up the phone and called her.
"Hallison Dinkins, director of human resources."
Trey fell in love with her professional tone all over again. "Hi. Do you feel up to a picnic at Forest Park? We could watch the sun set or stroll to the Muny to see if there is an outdoor performance."
"Although I'm not too hungry, I like the sound of your company. Is seven too late? I had a late lunch with Paula so I want to finish up here before I head home."
"I'll starve just for you," he joked.
A few hours later, with his long, muscular legs stretched out on a light weight throw blanket at the bottom of Art Hill in Forest Park, Trey admired the sun's rays as they bounced off Hallison's engagement ring each time she moved her hand to eat. He shook his head. "So how was your day at work?"
"Blessed, busy, and odd." She frowned as she took another bite of her fried catfish.
Leaning back on his elbows, he twisted his mouth in amusement. "You're going to explain all that, right?"
Hallison grinned. "Of course. One of my employees, a professed gay guy, repented, saying he was seeking something he couldn't get in his current relationship. At first he thought he was attracted to me…"
Trey lifted his brow. He wasn't amused.
"Anyway, I told him it was the Holy Ghost that drew him, not me. He got baptized in Jesus, and it wasn't long until Samuel Smith was made a new creature."
"Okay. That's the story behind your text message last night that you were at church and you didn't know how long you would be there." He nodded his understanding.
"Yeah." She frowned. "Then, remember Malcolm's girlfriend, Lisa?"
What has Lisa done? Trey tensed as he waited for Hallison to elaborate.
Wiping her mouth, Hallison shook her head in disbelief. "First, I don't know how she found out where I work, but she sent me flowers."
Because I purchased flowers for you and had them delivered, not kn
owing she owned the place, Trey refused to confess his blunder.
"They probably would've been pretty if they were other colors, but I had never seen flowers so dark. It was almost eerie, reminding me of death," she explained, shivering and wrinkling her nose.
"Where are they?" he asked. Hallison didn't need to know the woman dabbled in black magic. Trey grunted. God had the situation under His control, but Trey would have to continue to fast and pray. If Lisa didn't repent, then Trey would enjoy God taking her down.
"Trash."
He laughed. "Good for you."
"She had this cryptic message about staying away from Malcolm, along with a threat that I don't want her as my enemy. In her next sentence, she stated she had already tagged me as one. It's weird, because I'm already with you," she added in a whisper as if she was trying to convince herself.
"Hali, you know she has a spirit on her."
"You don't have to be saved to see that." Hallison shuddered. "Can we talk about something else?"
Nodding, he reached for her hands. She squeezed his and sighed. When she looked up, Trey could tell she had something to say.
"Trey, I don't know when or why, but somehow, my feelings for Malcolm have resurfaced." She held up her hand. "Before you say or think anything, I want you to know I have been faithful to you. I haven't snuck around or anything. It's hard to explain, but if I marry you, it wouldn't be a lie. You're so easy to love..." She poured out her soul to Trey.
He listened, knowing this was God's will. Still, it didn't keep his heart from breaking. She finished, sniffing and waited for his reaction.
Her admission didn't mean Malcolm was still in love with her, too. Yeah, right. His jaw begged to differ. He guided her face closer, wanting that last lingering kiss. "Hali," he whispered, "thank you for being truthful. I love you, and now I wish I'd gotten in a few extra punches." Hallison laughed and slapped his shoulder. "I accept that you and Malcolm have a history. That's all I'll accept."
"You're not cross-examining me about his lack of salvation?" she probed.
He shrugged and squinted. "Should I?"
"As a matter of fact, I've already been cross-examined. Paula certainly didn't hold back when I mentioned the same thing to her."
"Hali, despite what you just told me, I'm going to continue loving you until you tell me it's over." His heart pounded and dropped as he reluctantly said the words that needed to be said.
"It's over," Hallison said tearfully, twisting the ring off her finger.
Chapter Thirty-four
Ursula stormed into Hallison's office before Hallison could sit down. She threw a folded piece of paper on her desk. Hallison lifted her brow. "What is wrong with you, and what is that?" She pointed.
Huffing, Ursula took a seat that wasn't offered. "These are the results of my DNA test."
"What?" Hallison asked, frowning as she sat in her chair. Reaching across her desk, Hallison unfolded the paper and read it. She stared at Ursula "Okay. Why do I care?"
"Can't you see? I'm seventeen percent Sahara African, seventy-five percent European, and eight percent Asian."
"Umm-hmm," Hallison mumbled and booted up her computer. "Congratulations."
Ursula stood and leaned against Hallison's desk. "You don't get it, do you? Now I can check the multi-cultural box when asked my race on all my applications," she said proudly. "I'm mixed. I can't believe it. All these years I thought I was Anglo-Saxon. Who knew? I might even have some Jamaican in me, man." Throwing her arms up, she twirled around and headed for the door, mimicking a bad imitation of the once popular Superman dance craze. "And just think, I owe it all to you, cuz," she tossed over her shoulder. "Anthony and I are definitely getting a divorce. He served me papers. Maybe it's time to cross the color line," Ursula added before dancing out of Hallison's office.
Shaking her head, Hallison smiled. "Maybe it's time for random drug testing." She made a note to invite Ursula to the upcoming Missouri Black Expo so Ursula could explore her black roots.
It had been four days since she made her confession to Trey. She felt unstable: two engagements, two broken engagements. Trey was a sure thing. Malcolm was still Malcolm, and he was tangled up with a crazy woman. She missed Trey—the hand holding, the morning wake-up calls that included prayer, the lazy weekends wherein they planned nothing, but only wanted to be together. It had been longer since she last saw Malcolm. She wondered about him and prayed for him, especially with a woman like Lisa. "Lord, save him soon."
Paula had put her friendship with Hallison on hiatus because of her decision with Trey. Paula seemed more upset than Trey and Emmanuel. "She'll get over it," Hallison mumbled to herself. Friendships should never be tied to a man. Her cousin, Tammy, had drilled that rule into her head while growing up.
With summer winding down, Hallison used her lunch hour to stroll outside since she wasn't really hungry. She passed the waterfall and fountain at Keiner Plaza. Her Blackberry alerted her to a text message: Hey, I'm finished with chemo. Doctors believe they got it. Praise God for that...Tavia. Lifting her hand, Hallison whispered, "Hallelujah." Claiming a nearby empty bench, Hallison exchanged a few more text messages before Octavia advised she had to get back to a doll mold in her world of make-believe. Hallison shook her head.
Octavia had won her battle. Hallison was still battling two emotions. Standing, it seemed like something from inside the Old Courthouse was beckoning to Hallison. Shrugging, she crossed the street, walked up the steps, and opened the door. She bypassed the gift shop and entered the rotunda, recalling her last visit—heartbreaking. Her heels clicked as she walked a few steps to a wooden bench.
"It's about time you got here," the familiar voice scolded as hard steps casually approached from behind.
Hallison inhaled and closed her eyes. She glanced over her shoulder. "What are you doing here again? You've been waiting for me?" She scooted over so that the six foot three inch, golden brown skinned, bearded man would have more than enough room. Malcolm leaned down and kissed her cheek before sitting.
She didn't protest. Scanning the empty room, Malcolm rested his arms on his thighs. He didn't look at her. "In a way, I have. I had an urge today to walk down here. I wanted to feel your presence, although I know you're engage—" He turned and stared at her hand. His expression asked the question without him opening his mouth.
She looked away and shrugged. "I took it off."
"Why?"
"My reasons are my own." Hallison would rather live with their memories than make new ones with someone else. She begged the Lord to save Malcolm—God didn't; she asked the Lord to mend her aching heart, which He did; then Hallison made peace with the good and bad memories, but wrestled to hold on to them. "Where's your sidekick? Not that you care about my opinion."
"I do care." His voice was low and tender. His stare was intense.
She broke eye contact to regain her focus. "I never thought you would go for that type of woman."
"Hmm. I'm glad you brought that up. I never thought you would go for a dread-wearing guy," he said amused, not accusatory.
"Oh, so we're doing tit for tat, are we? Well, at least Trey isn't nuts. Your little woman is either chemically unbalanced or plain crazy for sending flowers that looked too dead for a gravesite. She's creepy. I'd be scared if it weren't for the fact that light has power over darkness."
Malcolm stood abruptly with his hands balled into fists. He startled her. "Hali, I've never hit a woman, but I'm coming close. I warned her about ever laying her hands on you again. She was too much drama, so I broke it off with her." Nostrils flaring and his teeth gritting, Malcolm checked his watch, and his eyes showed him mentally calculating something. "Listen, I need to take care of a few things before I head back to work."
She yanked him closer. "If that something is Lisa, leave her alone. No weapon formed against me will prosper. Her stunts make me fast and pray longer, harder, and more often. I'm not afraid of that trial. Besides—" She paused and pulled on his hands again. "I t
hought you were waiting for me."
He wrapped his large hands around Hallison's smaller ones. "All my life."
She couldn't face him. Malcolm was the only man she knew who could say so much with so few words. Clearing her throat, Hallison broke their point of contact. "I have to head back."
Nodding, he helped her up. Hallison knew he wanted to kiss her. God help her because she wanted to be kissed, but saved and unsaved still separated them. If only in my dreams. She smiled, and he stepped back, giving her space. When she walked out, he followed and escorted her down the street.
At the bank's entrance, Malcolm stuffed his hands in his pockets. He concentrated on her lips. Malcolm didn't blink as he read her expression. "If I said I'll be good and keep my hands to myself—"
"Your lips?" she challenged, wrinkling her nose.
Malcolm gritted his teeth and looked away in frustration. He rubbed his forehead before stroking his beard. He appeared tortured when he opened his mouth. "Okay, okay. I'll keep my lips to myself, too. Hali, I just want to spend some time with you. Maybe tomorrow?" he asked with an angelic expression Hallison hadn't seen since they first met.
She wasn't falling for it. "I'm sorry," she said to his dejected expression. "I'll be busy at the library."
Folding his arms, Malcolm rocked on his heels. His brow lifted in arrogance. His full mustache outlined his lips, which curled into a smirk. "Who are you researching?"
"I'm back on the Palmers, trying to dig up the last slave owner of Minerva Palmer."
"Hmm. You're still stuck on your maternal great-grandmother." Malcolm's eyes sparkled with mischief. "We'll find her."
* * *
"Did you hear the news?" Parke called Malcolm on his cell phone as Malcolm was driving home in a euphoric mood. Nothing his brother could say would spoil it. "Turn on KMOX radio. A three-alarm fire burned two buildings and it's spreading fast. Mal, Gertie's Garden has already been destroyed."