Her thoughts turned to Warren’s surprise appearance at her parents’ home this morning.
“What a sense of timing,” she said. “Couldn’t have planned it better myself. You just wanted to hear how wonderful I think you are.”
“You got that right!” Warren grinned and reached for her hand. “It’s ironic that Brent and Tamara got me there just in time to hear what I needed to hear most.”
Dayna wasn’t sure what he meant. She stared at him, awaiting an explanation.
“I wouldn’t have asked for your hand in marriage if I doubted your love for me, Dayna,” he said. “But the past few weeks left me questioning how deep and serious our relationship was. You seemed unsure sometimes whether to honor your past ties to Brent or your current ones with me.”
Dayna nodded. “Did you hear the end of my call to you in the airport?”
Warren shook his head. “Your phone cut off while you were still talking. I figured if it was important, you’d call back.”
“It was important, but I couldn’t call back because the flight was taking off,” Dayna said. “I thought you may have heard but would rather talk later. Or maybe you wanted something different. It’s not like you don’t have options.”
“Speaking of that, Miss ‘Déjà vu,’” he said, referring to her mother’s comment, “that option you were referring to over breakfast this morning has exercised her right to leave.”
Dayna frowned. “Come again?”
“I’ve been playing Mr. Innocent with you, mostly because I resented what seemed to be happening between you and Brent. I guess it was my way of passively getting revenge, especially after I overheard his hospital-bed declarations of love, but I’ve known for a while that Lily was interested in me,” Warren said.
Dayna smirked. “You’re kidding.”
“When she realized that you and I had cooled off, she ramped up her efforts to date me, and frankly, it made me uncomfortable.”
“Am I going to have to give a beat down?” Dayna was joking, but she was itching to know what Ms. Lily had been up to.
“Not necessary,” Warren said over the hum of the plane’s engine. “When I caught her throwing one of your pictures in the trash, I pulled it out and told her she could put the ones that featured her there instead. A few days later she told me she would be leaving to help her brother operate his restaurant franchise in Washington, DC.”
Dayna didn’t believe it. “She’d never leave Michael and Mason that suddenly. Do you think she’s calling your bluff?”
Warren shrugged. “May have been. But I took her up on it. I gave her a month’s pay and told her she could consider our arrangement immediately terminated. She stopped working for me two days ago.
“The boys will always love her, and she’ll always be their Aunt Lily. Truthfully, she’s been a tremendous blessing to our family in the four years that April’s been gone; we wouldn’t have made it through that first year without her.
“But Michael and Mason are old enough now to help out more around the house and care for themselves. I’ve hired a retired lady from church to prepare dinner each evening and to pick them up after school when they have practices that cause them to miss the bus. Otherwise, we’re managing okay on our own, and when you join the family, we’ll be even better.”
“Wow,” Dayna said. “But wait a minute — this thing about me joining the family … I just want you to know we’re keeping the cook and driver. You may have made a mistake by sending Lily away if that’s what will make you happy.”
She raised an eyebrow to feign seriousness over her joke. During the time they’d dated, Warren had tasted and applauded her cooking, but he knew her domestic skills, and interest in acquiring more, were nil.
Warren lifted her chin with the crook of his forefinger so he could search her eyes. The love Dayna saw there made her swoon.
“I never looked at Lily like I’m looking at you. I never felt in danger of losing control when she touched me, and the sound of her voice never made my heart race,” he said. “You shimmied your way into my heart the night I met you on the salsa dance floor, and the deal was sealed when we met again a few days later at the hospital staff meeting. I hadn’t planned on dating someone at my new job, but I also hadn’t planned on meeting you, Dayna Wilson. God knows what he’s doing. Lily’s season with our family was perfectly timed; and if we had been meant to be more than friends, that would have happened. Instead, he sent you, and I almost let my jealousy keep us apart.”
Dayna shook her head.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think this through too, Warren. You had every right to feel resentful. I skipped our date nights, and I have to admit that I wavered sometimes between whom to prioritize more — you or Brent. I was wrong for that, and I’m sorry. As far as I’ve come since my divorce, this experience with Brent and Tamara showed me I still have a lot of growing to do. Sometimes it’s safer to cling to familiar dysfunction rather than pursue a healthier, unknown reward. I’m excited to become your wife, but I’d like us to go through some intensive couples counseling before we take the plunge, if you’re willing; I want to get this right this time.”
John interrupted them by shouting a flight update.
“Landing in ten minutes! Sit back and prepare!”
Dayna and Warren complied. As the plane descended, Warren laced his fingers with hers and mouthed the words she’d feared she’d never hear from him again: I love you.
Whatever they were about to face at Holmes Regional Medical Center with Brent and Tamara, this time they’d do it together.
sixty-four
We r here.
Dayna sent that text to Tamara when the taxi pulled in front of Holmes Regional Medical Center. Seconds later she received a text with Brent’s floor number and room number.
She and Warren rode the elevator to the fifth floor and dashed down the hallway, hand in hand, toward Brent’s private hospice room. When they rounded the corner and saw Tamara waiting for them outside one of the patient rooms, Dayna knew.
She and Warren slowed to a walk, and Warren squeezed her hand.
Tamara’s eyes were red, and her hands were trembling, but her voice was strong.
“He’s gone.”
She said the words as if they hurt, and Dayna gripped her in a hug. The two women clung to each other and wept. When they were spent, Tamara wiped her eyes and reached for Dayna’s hand.
“You want to see him?”
Dayna hesitated. If he had passed, what was the point?
Then she recalled the Scripture that Audrey’s friend and Dayna’s coworker Chas had recited to them recently: “Absent from the body means present with the Lord.”
Brent’s spirit had gone heavenward, but maybe from that place on high, he could witness her paying respect to his earthly remains, and maybe he could hear her say one last time that she loved him.
“Okay,” Dayna said, and placed her hand in Tamara’s. “Let’s go in.”
Warren joined Dayna and Tamara in the room and led them in prayer over Brent’s breathless body. Then he and Tamara left Dayna alone to say good-bye however she chose.
Dayna was at a loss. What did you say to a first love whose gift had been both loving you and leaving you? If he hadn’t left, she may never have dealt with her personal issues and overcome as many of them as she had; and she certainly wouldn’t have found the courage to go to a salsa club alone and meet her future husband.
“So you won after all, huh?” she said, and smiled, oblivious to her own tears. “You wound up with both of your wives at your bedside. And the beauty of it is, we both loved you, Brent, and we’ll continue to love you. Carmen will do an excellent job with the foundation, and so will Tamara. Hundreds of injured athletes across this nation will know your name and your story. You done good, Brent, very good.”
Dayna kissed his cheek. It was cool and clammy, which both unnerved her and reassured her that his spirit was in a safe and warm place with the Lord.
�
�Thank you for gracing my life, Brent — both times. I learned a lot from you about love and forgiveness and living one’s truth both times around. I’ll do my best to honor you in the way I live every tomorrow. I love you, forever.”
She emerged from the room and walked into Warren’s waiting embrace. He held her tight, until she stepped back, indicating she was okay. Warren escorted Dayna to the waiting room, where she found Tamara and Brent’s mother sitting side by side, clinging to each other as they wept, with Winston and Tamara’s mother standing nearby. Dayna approached them, and Mrs. Davidson stood and hugged her. Dayna took a seat next to Tamara and whispered, “Thank you.”
With her head bowed, Tamara extended an open palm to Dayna. Dayna grasped the hand of Brent Davidson’s wife, but extended her other toward Warren. She had not wavered: This was where her future lay.
A CeCe Winan song she’d been listening to recently during her morning meditations surfaced in her spirit. “Blessed, Broken and Given” was about real life. God had broken each of them to bless them, hadn’t he?
Out of something evil had come some good. She saw it as clearly as if Brent had written instructions in his foundation plans: Tamara would manage the foundation board, scholarship applications, and media needs, and Dayna would assist her as much or as little as Tamara desired. Together, they’d tell athletes and anyone else who cared about a remarkable man who lived his faith more than he talked about it, and maybe, if and when the time was right, these two strong and beautiful sisters would share how they learned to love one man, and respect each other, despite the odds.
Acknowledgments
No book that focuses on love and forgiveness is written without the divine hand of God as puppeteer. My first and utmost thanks goes to him for allowing me to speak through the written word.
I’m sincerely grateful to my immediate and extended family for your never-ending support and for gracing my life with yours. To Syd and Jay in particular, may you always know that I love you unconditionally and joyfully. Thank you for being my biggest cheerleaders. Utmost thanks to my siblings for having my back; Dr. Barbara Grayson, Henry Haney, Sandra Williams, and Patsy Scott. Thanks to a supportive crew of friends who are like family — Muriel Miller Branch, Sharon Shahid, Bobbie Walker Trussell, Carol Jackson, Gwendolyn Richard, Barbara Rascoe, Lori Willis, Charmaine Spain, Jeff and Tracy Street, Everett and Danita Cannon, Connie and Ernest Lambert, Joe and Gloria Murphy, Comfort Anderson-Miller, Robin Farmer, Ursula Murdaugh, Maya Payne Smart, Lissette Pratt, Bonnie Newman Davis, Johanna Schuchert, LaVera Williams, Nancy Lucy, Joyce P. Jones, and many more heroes and “sheroes” this limited space won’t permit me to name.
I thank my editors, Sue Brower, Becky Philpott, Leslie Peterson, Tonya Osterhouse, and Lori Vanden Bosch, for challenging me to give my best to every book. Sincere thanks to Steve Sammons, Alicia Mey, Jennifer VerHage, and others on the Zondervan marketing, sales, and publicity team for helping bring this book to life.
Thanks to my agent, Steve Laube, for your encouragement and support, and to one of my first readers, Teresa L. Coleman, for your helpful insight.
I also extend deep gratitude to readers, booksellers, book club members, women’s ministry groups, editors, bloggers, radio hosts, and conference organizers for continuing to spread the word about my books and for inviting me to share my stories in your circles. Special thanks for your encouragement to my author friends Carol Mackey, Dee Stuart, Michelle Sutton, Vanessa Easter, Rhonda McKnight, Tia McCollors, Linda Beed, Booker Mattison, Kendra Norman-Bellamy, Tiffany L. Warren, Victoria Christopher Murray, Fritz Kling, and Adriana Trigiani.
I also thank my church family for your prayers and enthusiasm; members of the Midlothian Chapter of Jack and Jill; and specifically you, the person reading (or listening to) this book now. Thank you for spending time in my fictional world. I hope you have been, or will be, entertained, inspired, and blessed beyond measure.
All My Best,
Stacy
About the Author
STACY HAWKINS ADAMS’ love of writing has expanded from childhood dreams and a decade-plus journalism career to writing freelance and inspiring audiences on speaking tours. She is the author of eight books, including The Someday List, Dreams That Won’t Let Go, and Who Speaks to Your Heart? Tuning In to Hear God’s Whispers. Stacy lives in Virginia with her family. When she is not writing or speaking, she devotes considerable time to child advocacy issues. Visit her at www.StacyHawkinsAdams.com.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.
Praise
“Stacy Hawkins Adams latest novel, Coming Home, is another powerful, healing lesson taught through the spiritual insight of multiple perspectives, especially Dayna and Tamara, that shows the consequences of their actions when people are led astray. Kudos to Hawkins Adams for delivering on this raw, emotional rollercoaster.”
— Bonnie S. Calhoun is publisher of Christian Fiction
Online Magazine and author of Cooking The Books
“Stacy Hawkins Adams has penned a novel that will resonate with readers at every turn — those who long to be forgiven, as well as those who are struggling to forgive. This page-turner may leave you in tears.”
— Kendra Norman-Bellamy, national bestselling
author and motivational speaker
“Stacy Hawkins Adams’ greatest strength as an author is her ability to dig deep and pull out universal truths while examining them through her characters’ lives. I adore books that make me think about my own heart and my walk with God. Coming Home delivers on all accounts. If you are looking for a deep read that provides spiritual insight and heart-wrenching, believable conflict, this author delivers a solid story every time. I always finish Stacy’s novels feeling inspired to love God more and to draw closer to the people I love around me.”
— Michelle Sutton, inspirational author of over a dozen novels.
“Stacy Hawkins Adams is at the height of her powers with Coming Home. I suspect that many African-American women will list Coming Home as one of their favorite books of all time.”
— Booker T. Mattison, filmmaker and
author of Snitch and Unsigned Hype
“Faith. Hope. Love. The words come alive and dance through the pages of the story of Coming Home and will likewise leave their footprints on the life of the reader. Stacy’s novels never fail to whisper a lasting message. One that calls us all to listen as God speaks to our heart.”
— Tia McCollors, author of Steppin’ Into The Good Life
When a gentle south wind began to blow, they saw their opportunity; so they weighed anchor and sailed along the shore…. Before very long, a wind of hurricane force, called the Northeaster, swept down from the island. The ship was caught by the storm and could not head into the wind; so we gave way to it and were driven along.
Acts 27:13 – 15 (NIV)
ZONDERVAN
Coming Home
Copyright © 2012 by Stacy Hawkins Adams
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Zondervan.
EPub Edition © JANUARY 2012 ISBN: 978-0-310-33399-9
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* * *
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Adams, Stacy Hawkins, 1971 –
Come home : a novel / Stacy Hawkins Adams.
p. cm. — (Winds of change)
1. Terminally ill — Fiction. 2. African American — Fiction. 3. Married people — Fiction. I. Title.
PS3601.D396C66 — 2012
813’6 — dc23 2011041571
* * *
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Interior design: Michelle Espinoza
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