Dance Into Destiny

by Sherri L. Lewis

  Pastor Kendrick held up a finger. “Quinton, beware. This woman will have you broke. Your place will be hooked up, but you won’t have a dime left.”

  “Hush, Michael.” Jenell swatted at Pastor Kendrick playfully. “Quinton, don’t pay him no mind. You just tell me when you want to go.”

  “Thanks. I’ll let you know.” Quinton turned to Shara. “Since it looks like I’ll be here a little longer, maybe we can meet some time this week. Maybe I can come to track practice.”

  Shara smoothed back her hair. “Sure, that . . . that would be . . . uh good. We meet Monday and Wednesday this week at 4:00, so umm that would . . . you could drop in any time.”

  “Great, I’ll drop by on Wednesday.”

  Mother Hobbs got up from the table. “Who left room for dessert?” She returned with a German chocolate cake.

  Quinton groaned. “Oh my goodness, that’s my favorite. There’s no way you can convince me that’s healthy.”

  “The cake is made with egg whites and applesauce instead of eggs and oil. The icing—that’s another story. Every once in a while, you have to just go for it.”

  She cut the cake into thick slices, put a large piece on a plate, and handed it to Quinton.

  He eyed it and held his stomach. “On second thought, maybe I better not move in to your house, Mother Hobbs. I’d end up being one of those big-bellied preachers.”

  Mother Hobbs pushed the plate closer to him. “I was up all night baking this cake. Y’all better eat it. A little piece of cake ain’t gonna hurt nobody.”

  “That ain’t no little piece of cake. But if you insist . . .” Quinton took a bite and rolled his eyes back in his head. “Hallelujah, Glory to Jesus.” He did a little quiver and shook dramatically. “Hondalashayah. Cake so good, it’ll make you speak in tongues.”

  Mother Hobbs pinched Quinton’s cheek. “Boy, you crazy.”

  They all chatted for a while longer over cake and coffee until Jenell looked at her watch. “Michael, it’s getting late. We better go pick up the kids.”

  “Yeah, where are they?” Shara looked around as if she just realized someone was missing.

  “They went out to dinner with the Patterson kids. They didn’t know you were gonna be here, otherwise I’m sure they would have come. They love them some ‘Miss Shara’,” Jenell said.

  “How old are your kids?” Quinton asked.

  “Michael Jr. is eleven, Briana is ten and Monique is eight. Can you say stair steps?”

  Keeva stared at Jenell. She didn’t look like she’d had three children. “How long have you two been married?”

  Pastor Kendrick rubbed Jenell’s arm. “Thirteen wonderful years. Feels like just yesterday . . .”

  Jenell kissed his cheek. “Baby, you so sweet.”

  “Didn’t I tell y’all about that mushy stuff?” Mother Hobbs fussed. “Keep on, hear? Next time we get together, you’ll be saying ‘. . . Monique is eight and the baby here is two weeks old.’ ”

  Everyone laughed except Jenell, who shook her head and patted her stomach. “No way. No ‘ooops’ or ‘uh-ohs’ for me. Three is all I need.”

  Everybody laughed.

  Jenell continued, “Anyway, Miss Shara, you promised to take them to the movies next weekend and you know they never forget anything.”

  “I know. We’re going. I promised to take them to Dave and Buster’s too. I should let them spend the night. We haven’t had a slumber party in a while.”

  Pastor Kendrick said, “Keep them for the whole weekend and we just might be talking about ‘the baby is two weeks old.’ Why stop at three?”

  Jenell playfully punched his shoulder. “Unless you’re gonna carry it, three is all you get, Michael Kendrick. I told you that when we first got married. Now come on, we gotta go.”

  She got up, picking up her plate and silverware. “Mother Hobbs, I hate to leave you with all these dishes. Do you need some help?”

  “Now Jenell, you know better than that. Y’all go ahead and get the kids.” Mother Hobbs took the dishes out of her hands.

  Quinton stood to walk them to the door. He hugged Jenell and then Pastor Kendrick. “Peace, man, see you tomorrow.”

  Shara took the serving dishes to the kitchen. Keeva got up to help her. Quinton rolled up his sleeves. “I got it, ladies. Relax yourselves. Have a seat.”

  They looked at each other in mock amazement at his offer.

  “What? A man can’t do the dishes? Shoot, I can probably clean and cook better than all of you.”

  Mother Hobbs put her hands on her hips. “Is that so?”

  “My mother worked two jobs for as long as I could remember. I had to do all the cooking and cleaning around the house while she was gone. I practically raised my three younger brothers.”

  “A man that can cook and clean?” Mother Hobbs reached up and patted his face. “You don’t need no apartment, baby. You can stay right here with me.”

  Shara pretended to be hurt. “I see how you are, Mother Hobbs. Quinton comes along and you kick me to the curb.” She pointed a threatening finger at Quinton. “You better not be sleeping in my room either.”

  “Your room?” he asked.

  “That’s right, the one at the top of the stairs.”

  Mother Hobbs laughed and stepped in between them. “Children, stop fighting. There’s enough room and enough love here to go around.” She walked over and pinched Keeva’s cheeks. “If y’all don’t behave, I’m kicking both of you out and Keeva is moving in.” She planted a motherly kiss on Keeva’s forehead.

  Quinton pouted while he washed the dishes. Mother Hobbs sat Keeva down at the kitchen table and stood behind her, rubbing her back. There was something so soothing about her touch. Keeva closed her eyes for a minute. This was a good day. For the first time in her life, she actually enjoyed church. The sermon touched her in a way she couldn’t explain. Dinner was fun. She enjoyed all the love and laughter. They were all real, down to earth people.

  “Tired?”

  Keeva opened her eyes to see Shara looking at her. “No. Relaxed. I guess we better get going. I totally deserted Mark today and I know I’m gonna hear about it when I get home.”

  “You must not have had your cell phone with you.”

  Keeva smiled a guilty smile. “I accidentally left it on purpose.”

  Shara made a zipping motion across her lips. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

  They stood to leave. Quinton dried his hands and came over to say goodbye. He bowed dramatically. “My dear ladies, I do appreciate the pleasure of your company. Thank you so much for gracing me with your presence.”

  Keeva giggled and curtsied, extending her hand for him to kiss. Shara looked at them both with mock disdain and said, “Whatever,” and kept walking toward the door.

  Mother Hobbs gave Shara a hug. “Bye, sweetie. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She gave Keeva a long hug. Keeva tried to soak in all the love she could while Mother Hobbs held her.

  “Keeva, I hope this won’t be the last time I see you.” Mother Hobbs cupped her cheeks in her hands and looked into her eyes. “There’s something you need that you can only get from God. If you seek Him, you’ll find Him and your life will never be the same. I promise, life will be all you ever dreamed it could be. God can make every dead dream come to life.” She gave her another hug and then stood on the porch while they walked to the car.

  As they were driving away, Keeva asked Shara, “What did she mean by that? What did you tell her about me?”

  “Nothing. I barely mentioned you. She has a spiritual gift, that’s all.”

  “What do you mean? She’s psychic or something?”

  “No, not psychic, silly.” Shara grinned. “Should I come upstairs with you? Are you gonna get a beat-down from Mark?”

  Keeva rolled her eyes. “Girl, please. He ain’t crazy.” She paused. “Well, he ain’t that crazy.”

  They both laughed.

  Keeva looked over at Shara. “Sooooo, what do you think ab
out Quinton?”

  “He seems very nice. I’m sure he’ll be a great addition to the staff.”

  “You can’t be that spiritual. Give me a break.”

  “What?”

  “Girl, he is too fine. Don’t act like you don’t notice how fine he is. He looks just like Morris Chestnut.”

  Shara looked at her with feigned horror. “Keeva, he’s a minister of the gospel.”

  “Minister or not, girl, that man is fine. I don’t see how you’re gonna work with him. You could barely talk to him without stuttering.”

  “What are you talking about? I didn’t stutter.”

  Keeva mocked her, “Uuh, uum, we have track practice Monday and uh Wednesday.” She bugged out her eyes and held her mouth open, pretending to be speechless for a second. “Uuh, umm, I’m looking forward to talking over ideas with you too.”

  “Whatever, Keeva!” Shara smiled. “Okay, maybe he threw me off a little bit. And I do admit, he is pleasant on the eye. But I ain’t falling all over him or nothing. You won’t hear me saying ‘Just give me six months and I’ll be Mrs. Youth Pastor.’”

  “I know, wasn’t that disgusting? I thought you were going to turn around and tell her to shut up.”

  “I thought about it, girl. I had to catch myself.”

  They pulled up in front of Keeva’s building. Shara parked the car and got out.

  “What are you doing?”

  Shara put up her fists as if she was about to fight. “I told you, I got your back.”

  Keeva laughed.

  Shara gave her a big hug. “I’m glad you came with me today. It’s a good thing you invited yourself.”

  “I’m glad too. Thanks.” Keeva headed toward the front of her building but couldn’t resist saying over her shoulder as she went in, “Have fun at track practice on Wednesday.”

  When she got upstairs, Keeva was shocked to see Mark sitting on the couch watching TV. She thought he would have been long gone. When she walked in, he raised the remote and clicked the television off.

  “Keeva, what is this all about? You sneak out while I’m ’sleep and stay gone all day? I try to call and the cell phone rings in the next room? What’s going on? Are you seeing someone else?”

  “Mark, please.” Keeva rolled her eyes. “Of course I’m not seeing someone else. I went to church with Shara and then we went to her friend’s house for dinner afterwards. I didn’t sneak out. You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn’t want to wake you.”

  “Didn’t want to wake me? Went to church with Shara? If you wanted to go to church, all you had to do was tell me. We could’ve gone to our church together.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Is there something we need to talk about? I feel like we’re on two different pages lately.”

  Keeva sighed and pulled her hair. “Maybe we do need to talk.” She walked over to the couch, sat down and took her shoes off.

  “Mark, I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not, but I’ve been very unhappy lately. I feel like—”

  “You’ve been studying too hard, Keeva. I understand. I’ve been studying hard too, but that’s no reason to—”

  “No, that’s not it. It’s deeper than that. I’ve been feeling depressed lately and I’ve been doing some soul searching about my life and my future. I think—”

  “You’ve been under a lot of stress. We’ve both been under a lot of stress lately. We need to spend more time together—be there for each other.”

  “You’re not listening to me.”

  “I am listening. You’ve been stressed out. I understand.”

  Keeva pounded the arm of the couch. “Why can’t you let me talk for a minute? Stop saying you understand and listen to me.”

  “Princess, you know I can’t stand to see you upset. I hate to hear you talk about being depressed. I want to make you happy. Can’t you let me make you happy?”

  “Mark, you can’t make me happy.” She saw the hurt in his eyes. “I don’t mean it like that. I have to have happiness from inside of me. I have to be happy with my life and I’m not happy right now. I feel like—”

  “Honey, maybe Dr. Cohen is right. Maybe it is time to start some medication to get you through this.”

  Keeva got up from the couch and walked over and flipped on the television. Her wonderful-day feeling was fading. She wanted to salvage what was left of it. “Mark, I don’t need any medication. I just need . . . never mind.”

  “What do you need? Whatever it is, I’ll get it for you, Princess.”

  Keeva sighed and smiled at him. “Nothing, sweetie.” She curled up next to him. “Let’s watch a movie and fall asleep.”

  She felt him take a deep breath. He seemed relieved. He put his arms around her and held her tight. “I love you, Princess. You’re going to be fine. I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  On Wednesday afternoon, Shara stood at the edge of the track, watching the kids run. She felt a presence beside her and turned to find Quinton standing there. She jumped. “Oh!”

  “Sorry. Wasn’t trying to sneak up on you.”

  She nodded. There was an awkward silence.

  He cleared his throat. “So—these are the kids in your program?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How many do you have participating?”

  “Twenty-eight all together. We have about twenty regulars. We started out with more than that, but a lot of the older guys dropped out. I just lost one of my best girls, too.”

  “What happened?”

  She told the Tangee saga one more time. Shara couldn’t help wondering where Tangee was and what she was doing. Tangee’s mother wouldn’t give Shara the address or phone number at her grandmother’s.

  Quinton stared at her as she told the story. Shara smoothed her hair back. Was it flying all over her head?

  “That must’ve been difficult. Seems like you cared a lot about her,” he said.

  “Yeah, I love all my kids, but I have to admit, Tangee was special to me.”

  “I know how that feels. I had a few special ones I lost to gangs and drugs and stuff. Then I felt bad when I had to tell the ones left I was moving here—like I was abandoning them. I wonder what’s gonna happen to some of them now. Not to say I am solely responsible for what happens to them. I just know one caring adult can make all the difference in a kid’s life.”

  “I know what you mean. I think we all have one adult we can look back on that really pushed us to be the best we could be. Mine was my track coach,” Shara said.

  Quinton nodded. “Mine was my high school social studies teacher. I remember in the tenth grade, he pulled me aside and made a big deal about how smart I was. He told me, ‘don’t let them pimp you to be their basketball star. Let it open doors and pave the road to the life you want to live.’ He told me to focus on my education as much as I did basketball. He said I could really be somebody important and really make a difference in the world. I think about how much of a difference his words made with me and I try to take every interaction with a young person seriously. You never know when something you say or do may change someone’s life.”

  Shara stared at Quinton, thinking about his words when Danae, Shanique and Lakita ran up.

  “We’re tired. Can we stop now?” Danae looked at Quinton. “Who this, Miss Shara? Your boyfriend?”

  “No, he is not my boyfriend and that was rude of you to ask. You know better than that, Danae.” She gave her a “you’re gonna get it later when he leaves” look.

  “This is Minister Mercer. He’s going to be the youth pastor of the church. He’ll be coordinating all the youth activities.”

  “What? You not gonna be working with us no more?” Danae looped her arm through Shara’s and laid her head on her shoulder.

  “Of course I’ll be working with you guys. I’m not going anywhere.” Shara patted Danae’s head. “He’s coming to help out. We’ll be starting some other projects in addition to the track and tutoring program.”

  Lak
ita said, “Good, ’cause I’m tired of running all the time.” She moved over and stood in front of Quinton. “I’m Lakita and this Danae.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s Shanique.”

  Shanique scowled at Lakita, then moved over in front of Lakita to get a better look at Quinton. Lakita stepped out from behind her with her hands on her hips. She was about to go off when Shanique said, “I know you! Your poster was on my brother’s wall. You’re a basketball player!”

  Quinton smiled that modest smile of his. Shara wondered how often this happened.

  “Tyreek! Come here! Hurry up!” Shanique motioned for him to come off the track.

  “What? I ain’t finished yet.” He started to pass by and then stopped. “Aw, man, are you for real? Yo, Jamil, Davon, come here!”

  One by one, all the kids came off the track and crowded around Quinton. He laughed and talked, seeming to make each one feel important all at the same time. Shara watched him interacting with them.

  “You coming here for real, man? You gonna start a basketball program? Yo, man, dat’s da bomb. Wait ’til I tell T-bone,” Jamil said.

  Quinton looked over at Shara, standing at the edge of the small crowd. “Look, y’all gonna get me in trouble with Miss Shara. You better finish your laps. She told me how you’ve been slacking lately.”

  “Naw, we ain’t slacking. We doing right.” Jamil said. They all raced back toward the track. Shara noticed they seemed to be jogging faster and with better form than she had seen in a while.

  “They seem to like you already. I didn’t realize you were famous like that. I’m not much of a basketball fan.”

  “It can get a little nerve racking. Strangers want to talk to you all the time and get your autograph and stuff. You can’t go anywhere without someone recognizing you. People want to befriend you because you’re famous and rich. You never know who your real friends are. It’s been better lately though, since I’ve been out of the game for the past few years. Don’t tell anyone, but I’m glad I got out of it when I did.”

  “Why is that a secret?” Shara asked.

  “I don’t know. People told me I was crazy for quitting. They couldn’t understand why I would give up fame and fortune just like that. I caught a lot of flack from everybody.”