For some reason, the church was packed. I wonder now if Daddy didn’t call everyone in the church directory. Pastor certainly didn’t seem surprised when the Minister of Music asked if anyone would like to share a song. We hadn’t done that since the old days, when evening services were a loosely stitched patchwork of prayers and praise. Today’s modern programs didn’t allow leeway for such sharing. But tonight was different. For the first time since in years, I sang with my sister. My mother’s missing alto echoed in the shadows.
Dahlia started first, both in the procession to the front and in the song. I sighed, thinking she was grandstanding, but I followed anyway, urged on by Daddy’s pleading eyes.
“I’d rather have Je-sus…” Dahlia lifted the mic to her mouth, singing in a haunting key.
I followed, trailing up and down the scale, both with my voice and my emotions. “Than silver or gold—” I brought the other microphone closer to my mouth, then farther away. “I’d rather be His…than to have riches unto-oold.” My cornrows tickled my neck. I looked over at Dahlia for the next note, but she wasn’t singing, she was just standing there. Crying.
The preacher started clapping. “Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Better than gold.”
Tears blurred my vision, but my ears worked just fine, though I couldn’t believe what I heard next. A deep gut voice, Mama’s note, came out of my sister’s mouth. She sang the next verse, but refused to relinquish the song, going on to Christ’s nail-pierced hands and beyond. It was as if she’d found her ten-year-old self, tucked away all these years waiting to be reclaimed. Like a master, she pulled the room in until most everyone was singing. At “sin’s dread sway,” she waved for me to join in.
I gave myself to the song, too, remembering what my sister and I had once had. What my family had once had. In the corner of my tear-soaked eyes, I saw a trail of people heading for the altar. We sang on, Dahlia and I, losing our shoes and our pain as Trevor led the pack. Daddy, Rochelle, Jericho, Shemika and Adrian followed close behind. The pastor and his wife came next, sinking between the mountains of brown skin and tailored suits.
When my sobs choked back the song, another voice, a clear tenor rang out between us.
“I’d rather have Je-sus…”
Jordan. I came unglued.
Mother Holly met us down front. The pastor stood and waved to the seated congregation. “Come on. This is some good ground down here. Holy ground. Take off your shoes and bring somebody you love.”
I sang on, even as the last creak of my voice slipped away. The revival that Rochelle, Tracey and I had prayed three years for, had come. Only not in the way we’d expected. Had all the pain of this last year led up to this?
I watched as daughters crossed the church to hug their mothers and sons took their father’s hands. Jericho climbed the stage and stood next to Jordan, adding a son’s voice to a father’s. They didn’t hold hands, but they stood so close their shoes touched. When they finished, the quiet was so strong that no one spoke for what seemed eternity.
Finally, Trevor broke the silence. “Y’all know me here now.”
“We do,” Pastor said.
“I’m happy to say that I only love one woman now. Sorry for that confusion.”
Laughter rippled through the sanctuary.
“We were supposed to get married….”
“Come on,” the pastor nodded, urging him on.
“And we will. But not right now. God has been made real to me since I started coming here, but I realize there’s a lot I don’t know about being a man, about treating a woman the way she should be treated, especially a woman as fine as Dahlia.”
Strained laughter flowed into the aisle.
Trevor, however, took a more serious tone. “We’re not ready, but we’re not giving up. Even though we went about this thing backwards, God gave us a beautiful baby. We’re asking everyone to pray for us as we study with the Pastor and his wife and try to prepare the foundation for a marriage that will last a lifetime. In the meantime, we need to parent this baby girl and learn more about Jesus.” He lifted Sierra up on his shoulder.
“Amen to that.”
Trevor slid a wad of bills out of his pocket. “Pastor, we had a lot of money tied up in this wedding, but I know that flowers and cake won’t make things the way they need to be. Take this for the church.”
Pastor waved for two deacons to come and take the money to the back. “Thank you, brother. We’re going to use that to start a daycare for your baby and all the others coming up behind her.” He stared up at Jericho. “We’ll all make it through…together.”
I wiped my face and headed off the stage. I’d have to sit down for this.
Trevor raised a hand. “Wait, Dana. Your sister has something for you.” He handed up another wad of money to Dahlia, who stepped toward the mike, speaking once again with her own high voice.
She waved for me to come back and held my hand. “Church, this is my sister. I’ve done her wrong many times, but she keeps forgiving me. Tonight, I want to make a new start for her and for me.”
I stared down at Adrian, now seated on the front pew. He shrugged. Daddy swiped at his face with a handkerchief. I stared at the ground as she continued.
“Dana, you’ve been through it this year. You’ve almost lost your life and your business, but you never stopped trying to help others. This time, Dana, it’s your turn.” She motioned to Trevor, who slid yet another envelope from his breast pocket. “Here are our honeymoon tickets to Jamaica and a little change, just enough for a nice wedding of your own.” She pressed the envelope with the tickets and the money into my hand.
I blinked in disbelief as the pastor jerked up Adrian’s hand as though he’d won a boxing match.
“Do you hear that, church?” the preacher shouted. “I think we’re going to have a wedding after all.”
Chapter Seventeen
My arms stuck to my sides, I looked around the church in sweaty horror. Spring would do her damage to me after all. Disappointed by the whole impromptu engagement party at the altar when I hadn’t even been proposed to, I left the stage. My sister had given me something for once and everyone was already taking it away. Not that there was anyone else on earth I wanted to spend my life with besides Adrian…But at this moment, I’d rather have Jesus.
After trying to get the microphone from Pastor with no success and trying to shout over the clapping without being heard, Adrian lifted me off my feet and carried me to the car to the cheers of the congregation. “Sorry about all this,” he whispered into my hair.
“Me, too.” Amazing how a handful of money and some plane tickets made us couple of the year.
Daddy, who somehow managed to beat us to the car, hummed “Victory is Mine” all the way home, where he disappeared into the back bedroom while Adrian and I dropped onto my sectional, exhausted and confused.
I smoothed my hand against his neck, shiny with perspiration after the long service. The cool metal of a ring, laced through a chain, met my touch. His wedding ring again? And they were marrying us off already.
He shook his head at my questioning glance. “It’s new. Something between me and the Lord. Something to remind me—” He looked away. “That if I never have the earthly relationships I long for, I will always be joined to God.”
I cocked my head to one side. “I guess I never thought about that, guys and Jesus.”
He rubbed his chin. “I tried to stop Pastor. I saw it in his eyes before he said it. You know how he is when he gets something in his mind….”
I nodded. “Especially something that’s been in his mind a long time.”
We both laughed. The refrigerator slammed shut in the kitchen. More humming. Daddy probably had the whole congregation on a conference call.
“So what are you really going to do with the money?”
“How do you know we’re not getting married?” I hadn’t meant to say it aloud.
He tugged a hangnail off the side of my pinky and lifted my finger to his lips. �
��Because I haven’t asked you yet, let alone gotten a ‘yes’ out of you.”
I love this man.
Adrian looped the chain off his neck and closed his eyes. He clutched the ring, then my hand. He pulled me close, cradling my head on his chest. Hope surged through me. Through us. He took a long breath as if trying to inhale me. He slipped onto one knee.
The room began to spin. “Adrian, don’t. Please.” Why did I always say that when we got to this strange new place? This was what I’d longed for, so why didn’t I feel ready? Is it even possible to be ready? For everything to be just right?
He tugged me down beside him. “Don’t you think we’ve waited long enough?” He ran a hand down my back. “I just need to know….”
A contented sigh escaped my lips. “I want to marry you, Adrian, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
Blowing out a breath, he closed his eyes. “You don’t know how bad I’ve wanted to hear you say that.” He swatted my arm. “Hey, you didn’t let me ask you!”
I swallowed back my tears. “You asked me a long time ago, remember?” Suddenly, the rest of what had transpired that day on the stoop when Adrian’s store had been born came to my mind. A Life Saver ring that I couldn’t even get my pinky into and a sincere proposal….
And acceptance.
He looked away. “I thought you forgot that.”
“I guess I did, until now.”
As if released from a cage, he reached for my face with both hands and brought it to his. His kiss, though gentle, forced back my every fear, reinforced my every hope and threatened my decision not to use Dahlia’s money to marry him.
He pushed himself away from me and licked his lips. “You know I’m down with the island wedding thing, but I’m not sure if I can handle another man footing the bill.”
I pulled him back. “Ah. Control issues. I knew there was something wrong with you. What do you think about a small ceremony in the pastor’s office at the end of the month? Surprise me with the details.”
Adrian cocked his headways and let a crooked grin rip across his face. “Now that sounds like a plan. I think I’ll die if we go on like this much longer. I have my water heater set to freezing as it is.”
“I want to laugh, but mine is probably set lower.” Working with Adrian every day hadn’t been easy.
His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. He chuckled uneasily, leaning toward me again. “Don’t be mistaken though. If you want to do the island thing, I’ll have to set my pride aside. I’ll marry you in a minute. Anytime. Anywhere.” He patted his suit pocket. “I keep my Altoids ready.”
I tried not to cry. How did God take all the broken pieces of my life and somehow make them into something, someone, so beautiful?
His lips brushed my cheek. “Just tell me again that you want to be my wife. When I get home tonight, I’ll have this all messed up.”
That made me giggle some. I had always been the one wondering, hoping, trying to figure out what was going on…. There was no more time for confusion or fear.
“Let me show you.” I let all my fears go and leaned forward, tilting his chin down so as not to miss one inch of the mouth I’d been missing all this time. I laid a kiss on that man the likes of which I’d never felt. It wasn’t long—I was too chicken—but it was long enough to convince him that I wasn’t looking to be his buddy.
A silly grin stared back at me. “See, that’s what I’m talking about. End of the month, you say?”
I nodded. He could be so funny sometimes.
Adrian wasn’t laughing. “I know there’s lots of water under our bridge, but I’m willing to swim through it to make a future for us.” He grabbed my wrist, then let go. “Let’s not go back, okay? Let’s just be here, Dane. Right now.”
I propped up on my elbows, considering his words. Not go forward or back? Be all here? What a concept. If only I could duct-tape my mind to the present. I mustered a smile. “My lipstick looks good on you.”
It didn’t deter him. “I hope so. I plan to wear it every day. So, what will you do with the money?”
“I have an idea, but it seems selfish.”
He shook his head. “Dana, you feel guilty for going to bed at night. You almost died, okay? Don’t be afraid to love yourself. Please don’t, as you would say. How can you love me, if you don’t love you?”
Daddy’s fake snoring spewed into the hall. I ignored it. This was too taxing for me to divide my attention. Did I know how to love myself? It sounded so…wrong. “Isn’t that un-Christian? We’re supposed to die to ourselves and all that….”
Adrian nodded, setting me upright and pulling me to him. “Yes, we must die to self, Dane. But don’t literally die. You’ve spent your life celebrating others. It’s okay to do something special between you and the Lord. Why not take your girlfriends on a Sassy Sistah getaway?”
It was a great idea, but I had something else in mind. I squirmed, searching for a way to explain.
Understanding filled Adrian’s eyes. “I’m doing it again, aren’t I? Okay, I’m going to hush, as you ladies like to say. Tell me what you want and if you want me to help in any way.”
I trembled with excitement and not only about my plans. Though we weren’t married yet, Adrian’s little power bursts had been on my prayer lists each day after work—alongside his prayers for my mood swings and wishy-washiness, I’m sure. “Okay, don’t laugh, but…I think I want to do that ‘Marry Your Maker’ thing you came up with for the sales event. Like a wedding, but to Jesus—a sort of rededication. Do you think a cake would be too much?”
Adrian laughed. “Not if you want one. But don’t get me started or I’ll open that phone and order one. I’m staying out of this. I’ll help with the errands, but the choices are up to you. I think I’ve done enough with the shop.”
I frowned. “Well, I do appreciate what you’ve done with the shop, but…”
“It’s too much, huh?” He looked like a building was about to fall on him.
What fool tells a man he’s giving her too much? It seemed ridiculous, but if this marriage was going to work, we both had to be honest. “It’s a little too much maybe. I know this is all old hat to you, but this is my first shot at a business. While I appreciate your help…”
He took off his glasses and set them on the table, then draped his arm around me. “I get it and I apologize. The marketing fever, it gets to me. But it is your shop. I mean that.”
“I almost believe you.” I ducked, but he caught me and kissed me. This getting married stuff was all right.
“Just think about what you like, what’s fun for you. Remember how you used to send yourself roses for Valentine’s and everyone thought they were from me?”
Now why did he have to go there? I punched his arm. “That was middle school! I just wanted some flowers, okay?”
He kissed my nose. “Yes, it is okay. That’s what I’m saying.”
Plans for my celebration flitted across my mind. “What if I just took the money and paid everyone’s way to Jamaica and had a simple ceremony on the beach?”
He closed his eyes, then opened them adding a toothy grin. “I think that—would be awesome. I have only one request.”
My head inched upward as if trying to avoid a hook punch. Did he want to pick my dress? “What?”
“Can I be your man of honor? You’d have to promise not to hit me with the flowers of course—”
I kissed him silent. “No promises about the flowers, but I’d be blessed to have you stand up for me, first as my man of honor and then as my husband.”
He kissed me back. “Promise?”
I dragged him to the door by his tie. “Promise.”
As I padded down the hall to my room, my father’s voice stabbed into the hall. “Well, Nella, you didn’t live to see it, but I think those two are finally getting married. The pastor’s office ain’t the way I would go, but we’ll take it, won’t we? Yes. We’ll take it.”
With a chuckle, I dove into my bed, fully dresse
d on the outside and my heart bare within.
“This is so exciting. Just like that logo I drew.”
“Pretty much.” Tracey was such a hoot with her associations, though this one wasn’t too off base. “So can you two make it? I know it’s short notice.”
Her voice changed. “Both of us? Ryan, too? I was thinking just the girls. I’d love to get to know Austin better. I’m loving having her on the loop now. She’s sweet.”
I agreed, but sensed something else afoot.
Tracey continued. “Besides, I need to get away, maybe stay in Jamaica for the week? I can pay the extra—”
Find another scapegoat.
“What’s wrong now? I thought things were better between you and Ryan. Did he do something?”
I could imagine her squirming, shifting the phone from ear to ear. “Did he do something? He’s done nothing.” She paused. “And everything! He shaves his face and leaves these hunks of hair everywhere. He washed his car with my face towels—”
Oh, no. “Not the pink ones?” I’d once used her yellow set to wipe up some spaghetti sauce and seen a side of Tracey I’d never known existed. One of my ears still pointed east as a result of the cuffing she gave me, with an oven mitt, no less.
“Yes. The pink towels…and the new yellows, too. He used those on his tires!” She half sobbed, half screamed the last part, while I felt for a seat. Rochelle had Jericho and Tracey had her towels. I knew better than to mess with either. Somehow Ryan hadn’t picked up on his wife’s affinity for linens. Should we have written him a memo about the untouchables?
“I, uh, well…I’m so sorry. But he’s a guy, Tracey. They don’t always think about these things.”
“Oh, no, he’s not a guy. Adrian is a guy. Ryan is a pig! You know what he did on our little ‘light the fire’ weekend, the one that was going to make everything better? Watched NASCAR and worked! We went to the beach one day. Then the cell phone that he promised not to bring suddenly appeared and started ringing. I was too ashamed to tell you guys.”
I nodded my head, silently remembering the phone’s prominent display on the few outings I’d had with Ryan. It was as if he’d been saying, “You’re nice and all, but this phone here? She’s my real woman. Didn’t want there to be any confusion.” And there wasn’t. I’d figured out very quickly that neither Ryan nor his phone were the next big thing in my life. Why had Tracey taken until now to figure it out? Probably that whole not waiting till the wedding thing she’d divulged at her baby shower. Hard to believe that I was the sensible one for once. “Well, Tracey, you’ll get used to it.”
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