Right Package, Wrong Baggage
Wanda B. Campbell
www.urbanchristianonline.net
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Epigraph
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Epilogue
Group Discussion Questions
About the Author
Urban Christian His Glory Book Club!
Urban Christian His Glory Book Club
Notes
Copyright Page
Dedication
For my brothers and sisters in the Kingdom whose background doesn’t consist of perfect parents, white houses with picket fences, two and a half children, a dog, and church every Sunday. To those who trudge every day through hell-like circumstances, but never give up.
There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus, who do not walk according to the flesh, but according to the Spirit. For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has made me free from the law of sin and death.
Romans 8:1-2 NJV
Acknowledgments
First and always foremost, I thank my Heavenly Father and His son, Jesus Christ, for using me to minister to His children through the written Word. Without Him, the words would just be incoherent thoughts on a page.
Once again, I extend my sincerest gratitude to my family members who have supported me without reservation.
Craig, my husband of twenty years: Thank you for allowing me to give birth to the vision with which God impregnated me.
My children, Chantel, Jonathan, and Craig, Jr.: Thanks for the fuel I needed to keep writing.
Cassandra and Sabria: Thanks for reading every one of my crazy stories and setting me on the right path.
My friend John Edwards: Thank you for blowing me up around the post office. Your support means more than words can express.
God has placed angels in my life, also known as my literary friends. Without these individuals, I would be completely lost.
Tyora Moody: Thank you for your unselfish acts of kindness in opening doors for me. Without you, I’d still be trying to figure out what a URL is.
Tinisha Johnson: Thank you for making a sista look good!
Lacricia Angelle, Linda R. Herman, Bernard Boulton, and the Urban Christian family: Thank you for the encouragement and for teaching me about the craft of writing.
Book Clubs and Readers everywhere: Thank you for investing your money and time in support of this novel.
I thoroughly enjoyed writing this story. Right Package, Wrong Baggage is the sequel to my first published short story, Mommy s Present, in the anthology The Midnight Clear. The continuation of Micah, Pamela, and Matthew’s story will make you laugh, cry, and think. Enjoy and be blessed.
Who are you to judge another’s servant? To his own master he stands or falls. Indeed, he will be made to stand, for God is able to make him stand.
Romans 14:4 NKJV
Prologue
Little Matthew ran to the reception in the fellowship hall in search of his mother and grandparents. He found them standing near the Christmas tree. Perfect, he thought. Brother Stevenson couldn’t fit under the tree, but at least Matthew could give his mother her present near the tree. After receiving hugs and accolades from his family, Matthew instructed his mother to close her eyes.
“Wait right here, Mommy. I’ll be right back with your present.” Matthew smiled at his grandmother before he went off to find his mother’s present. He returned shortly thereafter and said, “Okay, Mommy, you can open your eyes now.”
Pamela assumed her son would have the present in his hand. Upon opening her eyes, she automatically looked down at her son who was wearing the biggest grin. Then she looked over at Micah standing next to him with the same grin on his face.
“Merry Christmas, Mommy!” Matthew shouted and started giggling.
“Merry Christmas, Matthew, Merry Christmas, Micah.” Pamela said, wondering what happened to her Christmas present.
“Do you like your present, Mommy?” Matthew asked with expectancy.
“I don’t know.” Pamela shrugged. “You haven’t given it to me yet.”
“Mommy, it’s right here.” Little Matthew held out Micah’s hand to his mother.
Pamela searched Micah’s eyes for an answer; he didn’t give her one, just continued grinning. Pamela then turned to her parents for an explanation. They had the same goofy grins on their faces Matthew and Micah had. It was obvious to her they knew more than she did.
Finally, Pamela knelt down to Matthew. “Sweetheart, I don’t understand.”
Matthew blew into the air in frustration. “Mommy, Brother Stevenson is your present!”
Pamela looked up at Micah who was still grinning. It wasn’t until then that she noticed the flowers in his hand and that he was wearing a blue and gray suit. Since neither her parents nor Micah were going to point out Matthew’s error to him, she took a shot.
“Sweetheart, Brother Stevenson is a person, and you can’t give a person away as a gift,” Pamela explained to her six-year-old son.
“Yes, you can, Mommy,” Matthew said, nodding his little head. “God gave us His son, and Jesus was a person.”
Pamela laughed at her son’s analogy. “Baby, that’s different. God gave us His son so that we could have a chance at eternal life.”
“That’s not different. I’m giving you Brother Stevenson so that you can have a chance at life and not be by yourself anymore.” Matthew s revelation left Pamela speechless. “Mommy, you asked me what I think you need. You need a husband like Mary had.”
Pamela looked back at her parents again. Now she understood why they were still smiling. They agreed with her son. Inwardly, so did she, which is why tears now rolled down her cheeks. Matthew, in his innocence, had reached a part of her she thought was hidden.
“Don’t cry, Mommy,” Matthew said, after he handed her the handkerchief Micah had given him. “I made sure he is right for you. His name starts with an ‘M’ like mine. He’s tall so he can reach the top shelf, and he likes vegetables and keeps his room clean. And, Mommy, he never falls asleep when Pastor Jackson preaches. I know because I’ve been watching him.”
Pamela couldn’t help but laugh along with the group at Matthew’s scale. When she finished laughing and crying, she looked over at her son and wondered when he had become so wise and insightful.
“Thank you, baby, for looking out for me,” she said while hugging him tightly.
“Does this mean you like your present?” Matthew just had to know.
On her feet again, Pamela looked over at Micah. “Are those for me?” she asked, referring to the flowers.
“That depends on if you’re going to keep me or return me,” Micah joked.
“My son didn’t pressure you into this, did he?”
“Mommy, do you like it?” Matthew pestered.
“Baby, don’t be stupid,” Pamela’s mother whispered in her ear when she hesitated.
“Yes, sweetheart, I like it,” Pamela said, finally answering her son’s question, but holding a steady gaze with Micah. “Can I have my flowers now?”
Watching his mother accept the flowers from Brother Stevenson, Matthew jumped up and down and then giggled uncontrollably when his mother said, “Micah, that suit looks good on you.”
“Thank you, Pamela. Does this mean you’re going to keep me?” Micah winked.
“Well, I’m certainly not going to send you back,” Pamela blushed.
“Once you get to know me, you won’t want to send me back.” The strength and confidence in his voice gave Pamela goose bumps.
“Confident, aren’t you? Pamela asked.
“I have to be. I come with a lifetime warranty. One hundred percent satisfaction guaranteed!”
Pamela giggled along with her son. She couldn’t wait to get acquainted with her real-life present.
Chapter 1
Pamela pressed her notary seal firmly into the document, then glanced at the clock on the wall. Almost done, she thought, looking in the direction of her clients. She loved assisting first-time home buyers the most at the title company where she worked as senior escrow officer. Pamela took pleasure in helping new homeowners purchase their piece of the American dream, particularly, single mothers like her.
At age twenty-nine and widowed, Pamela understood firsthand the pressure of making ends meet. If it weren’t for her parents’ help with a down payment after the untimely death of her husband five years ago, Pamela would still be renting a one-bedroom apartment instead of owning a threebedroom town house in Berkeley.
Today, her clients were newlyweds, married seven months and already purchasing their first home. Every so often, Pamela would look up from the pile of documents and catch a glimpse of the couples’ interaction. The husband and wife constantly touched one another and addressed each other by cute nicknames. The wife blushed constantly. Every so often, the husband kissed her cheek.
Pamela wondered what that kind of love felt like. What did it feel like to love a man and for him love her back? That question made her check the clock again. If she didn’t hurry, she may never find out.
Thirty minutes later, Pamela stood at her desk buttoning her coat, or at least trying to button her coat. Her hands trembled and her palms dripped with perspiration.
“Girl, let me help you with that.” The offer came from her best friend and fellow escrow officer, Jessica.
“Are you nervous?” Jessica asked, and then rescinded when Pamela twisted her face and at the same time rolled her eyes. “You’re right, that’s a stupid question. A blind man with two seeing-eye dogs can see that you’re nervous. You almost look petrified.” Jessica then laughed.
Pamela waited until Jessica finished buttoning her coat for her before she smacked her lips and said, “Forget you.”
“Watch it now. I’ll let you go on this date looking like John Witherspoon in Boomerang.”
Pamela couldn’t help but laugh at that scenario. “Jessica, I’m just so nervous about tonight,” she said, now serious. “I haven’t been on a real date in years. Up until yesterday, I wasn’t aware that such a thing as ‘dating etiquette’ existed. I don’t know how to dress for the occasion without sending the wrong message.” Pamela took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves. “Thanks so much for helping me select a dress and shoes for tonight. I probably would have worn one of my Sunday-go-to-meeting suits if you hadn’t intervened.”
“I know,” Jessica said as she reached for her own coat. “Why are you so nervous? You and Micah have been hanging out for over a month now.”
“But this is the first time we’re going somewhere without Matthew,” Pamela explained.
Jessica shrugged her shoulders. “I still don’t get it.”
“It’s easy to talk with Matthew around. We focus our attention and conversation on him. With him gone, I don’t know if we’ll have anything to talk about.” Pamela wrapped her scarf around her neck.
Jessica shook her head. “Girl, you are really letting your nerves get the best of you. I think the two of you will have a whole lot to talk about with Matthew away with your parents for the weekend. I bet Micah is ecstatic to finally have some one-on-one time with you.”
“I hope so. I’m just so out of touch with this dating thing. I don’t know what an appropriate or safe subject is anymore. I usually limit the scope of our phone conversations to church or the Bible.”
“That won’t be the case tonight.” Jessica paused to tie the belt on her coat. “But just in case you can’t find anything to talk about, ask that fine, saved man if he has a single brother for me.”
Pamela laughed.
“Why are you laughing?”
“Jessica, you are too funny.”
“Girl, I am not playin . I need God to send my soul mate while I can still produce eggs.”
Pamela finished laughing and placed her arm around Jessica’s shoulder. The two headed for the door. “I know he doesn’t have a brother. He told me he’s an only child.”
“What about a cousin, or an uncle?” Jessica persisted.
“I’ll ask, but I believe Micah Stevenson is one of a kind. Pamela prayed and hoped he was authentic.
The cold January wind beat against Pamela’s face the moment she stepped from the building. She pulled her scarf up over her face and braved the blustery weather. By the time she’d made it across the parking lot and into the confines of her Altima, she was so cold her bones ached. That’s the only thing she disliked about the Bay Area—the traditional January winds and rainstorms.
On the drive home, she was more cautious than normal. At yellow lights she applied the brakes instead of speeding through the intersections. Pamela prayed all the way home against mechanical failures and unexpected traffic delays. Arriving late might cause her to miss her destiny.
Micah pulled his SUV into his parking stall so fast that when he applied his brakes, they screeched. He was running behind schedule thanks to his last customer, an elderly gentleman who decided he wanted cable in his bedroom. However, the nice man didn’t bother to tell Micah the task would require him to crawl underneath the house until after Micah had agreed to do the installation. That was the one thing he hated most about his job with the local cable company—crawling underneath houses.
Micah grabbed his lunchbox, and after slamming the door, raced to his apartment on the third floor in the St. Moritz complex building. It was a good thing he climbed telephone poles on a regular basis; otherwise, he would have been winded by the time he reached the third flight of stairs. Once inside his unit, Micah tossed his lunchbox on the kitchen counter, and then headed straight for the shower.
Under the therapy of hot water pellets, Micah’s mind relaxed as he reflected on his short life in California. Two years had flown by fast, and his life had changed dramatically. It was hard to believe he was the same person. When Micah Stevenson arrived at the Oakland airport on that rainy December night, he was just a shell of a man. Back then, he compared his life to the chocolate Easter bunny, solid on the outside but hollow and empty on the inside. Self-esteem and security had vacated the premises of his spirit, along with his will to live. He loved God, but wasn’t sure God loved him anymore because he’d repeatedly done the very thing that was an abomination.
Today, with the help of his uncle, Pastor Jackson, and his new best friend, Minister Anthony Combs, Micah Stevenson was a mighty man of valor, and he knew it. He valued his relationship with God above anything material or tangible. He’d spent the past two years totally devoted to Go
d. Micah learned to hear His voice and learned God’s plan for his life.
The only leisure activity Micah afforded himself was coaching the church’s baseball team. That was only after God had shown him how to use his past experiences to help keep the younger generation from falling into the same trap he had fallen into.
Up until six months ago, he was satisfied with his life. Church, work, and baseball brought him complete contentment. Then he met his little buddy, Matthew, and everything changed.
He’d met six-year-old Matthew Roberts one Sunday while the child played with the water fountain in the church’s vestibule. Matthew was conducting an experiment, trying to see if the water would touch the ceiling. After gently scolding the little boy, they became buddies. When Micah met Matthew’s mother on the following Sunday, Micah wanted to become her buddy also.
Pamela’s natural beauty captivated him months prior, but he was too shy to approach her, so he admired her from afar. The mocha skin and soft brown eyes drew him in, and her warm smile hooked him. Micah thought she resembled Sanaa Lathan, especially when she wore her shoulder-length hair down in loose curls. Micah never voiced his interest in Pamela Roberts, but he did learn about her from a distance and from the subtle inquiries made to his uncle. He also observed her every Sunday and Wednesday night. Although impressed, he decided not to pursue her until later. Then the unimaginable happened. Little Matthew handpicked him as a Christmas present for his mother! When he pried the plot out of his little buddy, Micah fought hard to keep a straight face. He felt like break-dancing, he was so happy. His happiness swelled when Pamela accepted him as her present and agreed to start a relationship with him. That was twenty-seven days and nineteen hours ago.
With a steady hand, Micah trimmed his goatee. The second he realized tonight was their first date without Matthew, he nicked himself. “Why am I so nervous?” he asked audibly. Normally, they went to places like Chuck E. Cheese or caught the latest animated feature so Matthew would be entertained and not feel left out. It was important to them both for Matthew not to feel neglected now that they were dating. Matthew didn’t mind at all. He was happiest walking between them with one of his hands resting safely inside theirs. What Matthew really loved was for Micah to ride him on his shoulders. Micah loved that too. He laughed just as much as his little buddy, if not more.
Right Package, Wrong Baggage Page 1