Why was everyone around her suddenly lying? First, her client, Manny, then Curtis, and now her mother. The woman she trusted most in the world had lied to her about her father’s existence. Who would do something like that? Her chest heaved.
Sydney couldn’t recall if she’d heeded stop signs or red lights, but she made it home without incident. She parked into the driveway and turned off the ignition. Her eyes widened. She’d driven to Belinda’s house! Her mind had been on autopilot.
Sydney bent her head under the visor and peered through the window. The house was well lit. Good. She exited and ran to the front door. She pressed the doorbell. She hoped Belinda was not on a date. “Please be home.” She tapped her feet and then pressed the doorbell a second time.
“I’m coming,” Belinda said through the door.
Sydney yelled, “Hurry up. It’s me.”
10
“What’s wrong?” Belinda took in the fresh tears in Sydney’s eyes. She stepped aside to let Sydney inside.
Did Lance call her? She wouldn’t put it past him. Belinda’s heart thumped. With a ready apology on her lips and I’m-ready-to-drop-on-my-knees-and-beg-for-mercy attitude, Belinda trudged after her friend.
“I’m so glad you’re home.” Sydney bolted into the condo with the ease of a long-time friend. She dropped her bag on the chaise lounge and headed toward the refrigerator. “I know you must have a container of ice cream in here …” She rummaged around. “Woohoo! Mint Chocolate Chip it is. I need ice cream therapy.”
Belinda gulped. Whenever Sydney reached for ice cream, it was major. Ice cream and prayer were Sydney’s therapeutic routine. Belinda preferred ice cream along with a healthy dose of sex. That was how she ended up in bed with Lance.
Fortunately, she learned to substitute gratification for her Bible. She fought her body daily. So she did a lot of Bible reading.
Sydney sank into the chaise lounge and Belinda slipped into her customary place in the loveseat.
“Suds, tell me what’s on your mind.” Belinda vacillated between wanting and not wanting to know. “You trounced in here like the devil was on your heels.”
Sydney shuddered. “Lord, please help me,” she asked, looking upward. Then she faced Belinda. “I went to see my mother.”
Belinda’s shoulders dropped. This breakdown had nothing to do with Lance.
“She called saying she needed to see me. She had something important to tell me. Of course I went. She’d tell me her news and I’d tell her about Noah.”
“Is she upset he’s white?” Belinda interjected.
Sydney shook her head. “I didn’t get that far. Once Mom told me her news, I ran out of there. Even now …” She wiped her face as fresh tears fell.
Belinda moved to get her some tissues, but Sydney waved her off. “I’m fine,” she sniffed. “Mom is dating.”
“That’s wonderful,” Belinda exclaimed. Sydney had made numerous attempts to set up her mother on dates. Belinda even played a role with the matchmaking, but Janine never met anyone who held her interest.
“She’s dating my father.”
Belinda’s eyes widened. She scooted to the edge of her seat. “Your father? But wait, isn’t he dead?”
Sydney hoisted off the chaise lounge to share the loveseat. Belinda shifted her body so they fit. She offered Sydney tissues and asked again, “Isn’t your father dead?”
Sydney’s body shook. “Mom lied to me. All my life, she told me my father had died. Now, out of the blue, she confesses. Irving—that’s his name—is very much alive.” Sydney cried into Belinda’s shoulder. “I was so upset. I left. I couldn’t bear to hear anymore.”
Belinda knew how much Sydney detested lying. Belinda thought of her secret and said, “There must be some sort of an explanation. Sometimes people keep things quiet for a good reason. Did you ask your mother for one?”
“No.” Sydney lunged to her feet. “There’s no good reason for lying.” Her eyes flashed and her nostrils flared. Belinda’s body tightened from the waft of anger coming her way.
Belinda stood and met Sydney’s heated gaze. “You should have heard her out. She’s your mother. There’s no replacing her.” There was no replacing her either, she wanted to add.
“I don’t want to hear any explanations. The only thing coming out of her mouth is lies. What could my mother possibly tell me that will erase the fact she lied to me for thirty-three years? Thirty-three years.”
Sydney’s cell phone rang. She pulled it out of her pants pocket. “It’s her.” She pressed the end button and tossed her phone. It hit the couch and bounced to the floor.
“At least tell her you’re okay.” Belinda picked up the phone off the floor and inspected it to make sure it wasn’t cracked.
“I’m not okay. I’m far from it. Let her suffer.”
“God wouldn’t want you to do this.” Belinda held the phone toward her. “Proverbs 3 says we should, “Trust in the Lord with all our heart and lean not to our own understanding.””
Sydney rolled her eyes. “Since when did you start quoting scripture?” She took the phone Belinda held and dropped it in her bag.
Belinda held her tongue to keep from telling Sydney about herself. She couldn’t go from quoting to cussing in the same breath.
Sydney turned away and walked into the guest master suite. She undressed and pulled open the drawer to fetch a pair of short pajamas. Sydney had spare clothes at Belinda’s and vice versa. It was one of the perks of being friends for years.
Belinda kept an eye on her.
“I can’t imagine … my own mother …” Sydney sniffed as she brushed her teeth.
Belinda plopped on the queen-sized bed, grappling with her guilt. It weighed down her shoulders. “Lord, I don’t know what to say to help her,” she whispered.
Sydney finished her nighttime rituals and went under the covers.
“Do you want to pray?” Belinda asked.
Sydney shook her head. “I don’t know what to say to God.” She closed her eyes. “Holy Spirit make intercession for me because I’m … I don’t have the words to say how I’m feeling right now.”
Tears lined Belinda’s eyes. She gulped to keep from falling apart. Belinda lay next to Sydney, who curved into the crook of her arms. Sydney wet the pillow as she cried herself to sleep.
Seeing Sydney’s reaction to her own flesh and blood, Belinda knew she didn’t stand a chance if Sydney ever discovered the truth. She had to play Lance’s game or she’d lose her friend. Another scripture came to her.
“Love covers a multitude of sins. That’s from the word, and you can’t argue with that. If Jesus can do that for you over and over, again, you can do the same for your mother.” She spoke the words to herself because Sydney was asleep.
Belinda closed her eyes. “Lord, I come to You for help. I don’t know what to say but Sydney is hurting. Help her find comfort in You. Give her the right Scripture to see her through. I pray for Janine as well. What a burden she must have carried all these years. Help her to cast everything on You. Lastly, I pray for myself. Help me to be a better Christian.” She blinked back tears. “And an even better friend.”
Belinda enjoyed reading the Scriptures, but she didn’t see herself as a prayer warrior. She knew she needed to work on that.
Belinda read the book of James, finding comfort in his blunt approach to spiritual living. She kept coming back to the verse in the first chapter that said, “A double minded man is unstable in all his ways.” Belinda knew that James was talking about her. She was double-minded. She wanted to serve God, but she didn’t want to make the sacrifice. She had the same dilemma with Sydney. Belinda couldn’t sacrifice their friendship by telling the truth. Their bond was one of the few constants in her life.
“Lord, I confessed to You, already. You said my sins are thrown in the sea of forgetfulness. So, why does Sydney need to know?” she whispered.
There is a lesson to be learned.
Belinda crooked her head. She looke
d around the room. Someone had spoken in her ear. Was she hearing things? Slightly panicked, she considered waking Sydney. Then shook her head. It would be cruel to awaken Sydney.
You don’t need Sydney to explain what you already know and feel. My sheep hear My voice.
“And they answer.” Belinda whispered the rest of the verse. Goose bumps scattered along her arms like dominoes. Was God talking to her? Was she important enough for God to take a moment from managing the world to say a word of encouragement to her?
“Am I your sheep?” Belinda asked in hushed tones.
Her eyes wandered the room, half-expecting to see someone. This time there was no answer.
Belinda eased out of bed, and went into the kitchen to get her Bible. It was not there. She tapped her chin. Where was it? She thought she’d left it by the coffee pot.
“Great,” she muttered. “God decides to talk to me, and I can’t find my Bible. Knowing where your Bible is, that’s Christian 101.” She went into her bedroom, but didn’t find it. A mental image flashed across her mind. She’d left it in her car. She’d taken her Bible with her that morning to work. She listened to the messages on the radio and liked to check out some of the scriptures she heard.
Donning a light jacket over her skimpy nightgown, Belinda grabbed her keys off the hook by the front door and went outside. She clicked the unlock button to her car and looked inside. Sure enough, her Bible was on the passenger seat. She grabbed it and hurried back into the house. After she secured the lock, Belinda sank into the loveseat. She opened to Romans 8 and began to read. Her eyes fell on a line that said, “The Spirit bears witness with our spirit that we are the sons of God.”
Belinda knew her finding this verse was not by chance. God had used His word to answer her question. Tears blurred her vision. She was indeed one of God’s sheep. She belonged to Him. Folding her arms about her, she hoped she could live up to God’s expectations.
As she closed the Bible and went into her bedroom, doubt attacked her core. Her shoulders slumped. She’d never attain the level of commitment and holiness that God required. She’d mess it up, just as she did her friendship with Sydney.
She lowered her head. In time, even God would give up on her. He’d see that she was not worth it.
11
“Did you sleep out here last night?” Sydney asked as she entered the kitchen. “I saw a blanket and pillow on the couch.” She was showered and dressed for work.
Belinda nodded. “I was working on something and I fell asleep. I put on a fresh pot of coffee.”
Sydney went to help herself.
“How’re you feeling?” Belinda asked.
“I’m good,” Sydney said, pouring two packets of sweetener in her coffee. “My mother called twice already.” She shook her head.
“You should—”
Sydney held up a hand. “I spent all last night crying. I don’t want to … I can’t talk about my mother right now. Please.”
Belinda nodded at Sydney’s plea. She eyed Sydney’s form-fitting purple dress and changed the conversation. “I bet you forgot about that dress. I had it dry-cleaned for you.”
With her back turned, Sydney said, “Thank you. I did. But you spared me going back to my condo.” Blowing into her cup, Sydney came to sit across from Belinda.
She tilted her chin at Belinda. “Are pajamas the new work wear?”
“I’m taking a day off. I’m inspired.”
“Now I must know. What are you working on?”
“I have an idea.”
Sydney’s brows rose. “Is this another one of your schemes where I end up having to cut off all my hair or something crazy like that?”
“Am I ever going to live that down?” Belinda chuckled. “I thought dying our ends bleach blond for Grad Fest was a good idea.”
“I had to cut six inches after that fiasco.” Sydney sipped her coffee.
Belinda smiled. “Friends to the end.”
“To the end,” Sydney echoed. She pointed to Belinda’s paper. “So, what’s this new venture?”
Belinda cleared her throat. “After you went to bed, I was feeling a little down. I wondered what God would want with someone like me.” Sydney opened her mouth but Belinda held up a hand. “Wait. Let me continue. I was in my feelings until the thought came to me that I needed to add some meaning to my life. I need to give back, somehow.”
“Your life does mean something,” Sydney said. “Look at how you were there for your dad after you both lost your mom. I think your mother would be proud of the woman you’ve become. Plus, you’ve always been the best to me.”
Belinda thought of Lance. Not always. “Thank you,” she whispered. She didn’t deserve such praise, but she couldn’t tell Sydney the truth. Instead, she continued, “I want to start a charity to help women. I’m thinking of calling it Carmela’s Closet.”
Sydney touched her chest. “I think it’s sweet you’d honor your mother that way.”
“Don’t get too sentimental until you’ve heard me out. I intend to raid both our closets, and some of our professional friends. I’d then donate those clothes for women seeking to go on job interviews. I love clothes and I love helping women. This is a blend of my two loves.” Belinda grew animated. “I was thinking of throwing a gala of sorts to raise funds to purchase a building for the charity. I’d oversee everything, but I’d need your help. I’d like you to offer some legal advice to women in need. I know my father will help with money and all that, but I need your support.”
“Look at you!” Sydney exclaimed. “Your excitement is shining through. I think that’s a wonderful idea and so like you.” She glanced at her watch. “I do have to get going, but I’d like us to talk some more about this. Flesh it out and draw up a proposal. We can meet over lunch and go over everything. I think members of the Charlotte Young Professionals and The Chamber of Commerce would jump to help with this project.”
“You think so? You like it?” Belinda released a breath. “You don’t think it’s harebrained or … stupid?”
“I think it’s brilliant. You know Noah is really focused on outreach and building ministry. He is looking to build up our community. I think you should meet with him.”
Belinda nodded. “I agree. I’ll work on my proposal.”
“Great. I’ll set up an appointment for you with Alma. I think the church will back this project, which is perfect. This could be what God has for you. Your ministry.”
Belinda smiled. “See, that’s why you get the big bucks. You’re gifted with words.”
“Oh, shut up,” Sydney said. “Stop buttering me up. I’m glad to go through my closet, but you’re not touching my shoes.”
Belinda opened her mouth.
Sydney held up a hand. “Not up for debate.”
“Okay.” She made a cross sign against her chest. “I won’t touch your footwear.”
“I must go,” Sydney rushed out. She pecked Belinda on the cheek. “I’m amazed by your sweet spirit.”
“I hope you remember that when it’s time to tear open your checkbook.”
Sydney threw words over her shoulder. “It’s for a good cause.”
“And a tax write-off you need,” Belinda added.
“You’re a trip.”
Alone again, Belinda continued writing her thoughts on paper. She knew enough attorneys from court who could help her inquire about setting up a non-profit organization. She couldn’t remember when she’d been so energized about anything. To think if Lance hadn’t… No. This was not about Lance. This was about her discovering her purpose. She had to prove to herself she was more than a sex toy. She was more than the woman who betrayed her sister-friend. She was also a woman with a mission. With God and Sydney by her side, she’d make a difference.
12
“I’m sorry, Pastor. I’m so embarrassed.” Ellie Coombs sat in one of the chairs in his church office with her hands folded in her lap.
With her hair pulled into a ponytail and bangs, Ellie looked like
a penitent schoolgirl and not the twenty-nine-year old, assistant principal of an elementary school. It had taken Noah a month to find out the chief coordinator behind the bet.
“Thanks for apologizing and I’m equally embarrassed. I’m a man, not an object to be bartered for among women.”
“Yes, I see that.” Her face was a bright red, which was startling contrast to her pale complexion. She wiped a hand across her face. “I meant no harm. At the time, it seemed fun. So many of us wanted to, well, um … you’re handsome. There aren’t many single men of God so we … I’d better stop talking.” She smoothed her blonde curls and made a gesture of zipping her lips.
Noah smiled to put her at ease. “Thanks for the compliment, but I’m seeing someone.”
“I know.” Her voice held such regret that Noah could only shake his head. “A couple of the women made mean comments about you dating a black woman. I told them off. They haven’t been back.” Ellie blew at her bangs. “It’s no loss, trust me. They can’t keep a job because they seem to think that sleeping with their bosses will give them job security. Haven’t we come further than that to demean ourselves like that? I’d like to think we have come far, proving our self-worth as women.”
Noah raised a brow. “I’d like to think so, too.” Ellie seemed to understand his pointed comment.
“Got it, Pastor. Sorry, again.”
Noah waved off her apology. “Consider it forgotten.” He touched his chin. Those may have been the same women who ratted her out as the mastermind behind the bet. Noah knew better than to tell Ellie though. “Even though I didn’t appreciate your actions, I’m impressed with your organization skills. You were creative and resourceful. Two traits I find I need in the leader of our Beulah Belles.”
Her brows furrowed. “Beulah Belles?”
“That’s my name for the young women’s ministry I’d like you to oversee. So many women, like those sisters you mentioned, are in need of guidance. I know there’s a women’s group that Sister Alma leads, but we need something geared toward the single, young women.”
With a brisk nod, Ellie jumped to her feet and snatched his notebook. At her full height, Ellie appeared to be close to six feet tall. She furiously scribbled notes. Noah could only watch as her hand flew across the page.
Tell Me Lies Page 7