Dance Into Destiny

Home > Nonfiction > Dance Into Destiny > Page 22
Dance Into Destiny Page 22

by Sherri L. Lewis


  “It’s not a crazy church. And it has nothing to do with that church in particular. Any church would say the same thing. Remember when we went to church all the time when we first got together? Remember when we both decided we were going to wait until we got married because we wanted to be right with God?”

  Mark smiled. “I remember.” His smile faded. “That was a long time ago. We’re practically married now. I don’t understand why stopping now would make any difference.”

  “Honey, I realize I’m asking a lot. Can you understand this, though? I’m happier now than I’ve been in a long time, maybe ever. I feel like I’m coming alive after being dead. I’m finding out who I am and discovering what I like and what I want and don’t want. I need you to allow me to do that, Mark. I need to figure out who I am and be free to be that person. If I can’t do that in this relationship, then . . .” She left her next thought unsaid.

  “Then what?”

  “Then nothing. I need you to try to understand.”

  “I’ll try, Keeva.” He bit his lip. “The sex thing though, do we have to stop all at once, or can we gradually wean off of it because, well, you know.”

  Keeva laughed. Mark looked so cute and vulnerable asking her that. “I . . . promise me you’ll try to understand that this celibacy thing is important to me and we’ll go from there.”

  He seemed satisfied with that. He reached across the table and took her hand. “How’d I do?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We talked. You told me how you felt. I listened. We didn’t yell at each other and although we may not have arrived at a consensus, at least we somewhat understand each other.”

  “You did well, honey.” Keeva rubbed Mark’s hand. “You did well.”

  She avoided looking into his eyes so he wouldn’t see her wonder whether it would be enough.

  Chapter Thirty

  Shara rounded the track, pushing herself a little harder. When she completed four miles, she looked at her watch. Her time was better than yesterday, but still not where she wanted it to be. As she did her cool down laps, she slipped into her usual routine of talking to God.

  So many things had been on her mind lately she wanted to talk to Him about. She was excited about Keeva starting her dance classes. The basketball programs were in full swing. The grant would be reviewed soon, and if awarded, could make a big difference in how much the church could expand their programs. She sat on a patch of grass to do her cool down stretches. When she lifted her head up from a hamstring stretch, Quinton was there, looking down at her.

  “Oh!” She jumped.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Why do I always seem to evoke that response in you? I came to run. Is that okay?”

  “I’m sorry. You scared me. I’m not used to anybody else being out here this time of the morning.” She stretched the other hamstring.

  “Yeah, I’m going at it a little earlier today. I had no idea Atlanta would be this hot. I may have to switch my running time.”

  “Hot? You ain’t seen nothing yet. Besides, this can’t be as bad as Orlando.” She stood up.

  “That’s true, but I was only in Orlando for a minute. I’m from Chicago, remember?” Quinton smiled. “Who were you talking to?”

  Shara froze. “How long have you been here?”

  “Long enough to watch you have a serious conversation with nobody else around. It’s okay. I talk to myself, too.”

  “I wasn’t talking to myself,” she said shyly. “I was talking to God. I always do that at the end of my run.”

  He stared at her with that intense gaze of his. “What were you talking about?”

  “Stuff.”

  “What stuff?” He looked into her eyes with a slight smile on his lips.

  “Private stuff between me and God.” She stretched out her quads. “You know, stuff. Just praying for everything we’re doing here and for the kids and for Pastor Kendrick and his family.”

  I guess that’s why you didn’t want to take me running that morning.”

  Shara frowned. “Huh?”

  “Remember when I was here for my interview and Mother Hobbs suggested you pick me up to go running in the morning? You gave her the evilest look I’ve ever seen in my life.”

  Shara covered her face with her hands. “You saw that?”

  Quinton laughed and nodded.

  “I didn’t think you saw that.” She took her hands down and smiled. “It’s not that I didn’t want to run with you. I cherish my God-time, that’s all. My day isn’t right without it.”

  Shara stood on her toes and stretched her calves. “What?”

  Quinton was still staring at her. “Nothing. I’ve never met anyone like you before. That’s all.”

  Shara smoothed back her hair and looked at her watch. “I better hit the showers. I gotta get to class. See you later.” She headed for the locker room.

  She took a quick shower, put on her clothes and did her hair and makeup as quickly as she could. She grabbed her bag and headed out the door.

  “Oh!” She jumped and almost dropped her bag.

  Quinton was standing outside the door.

  “Do you purposely sneak up on me and scare me all the time?” Shara put her hand on her chest, waiting for her heart to slow back down to normal.

  “Sorry. It’s not on purpose. Are you always so jumpy?”

  “Only when people sneak up on me.”

  He laughed nervously. He dug his hands in his pockets and stared down at his feet. “I was wondering if you wanted to get some dinner tonight.”

  Shara bit her lip. “I . . . uummm. I don’t know. I . . .”

  “What is up with that?”

  “What’s up with what?”

  “I feel like I’m constantly asking you to go somewhere with me and you’re always saying no. Can’t you cut a brotha a little slack? Do you have to make this so difficult?”

  “Make what so difficult?”

  Quinton looked at his feet. “You know, I just moved here. I don’t really have any friends. I’m trying to get to know some people and hang out.”

  “You’ve got Anthony, Malcolm and all those guys. If I’m making things so difficult, why don’t you hang out with them?”

  Quinton’s voice was soft. “I don’t want to be with them. I want to be with you.”

  Shara stood there not saying anything, looking at him.

  Quinton took one step closer to her. She didn’t move back, and he took one more step, ever so slight.

  He reached out his hand and gently stroked her cheek with his finger.

  Shara started breathing faster. Her lips trembled.

  He stopped them with his.

  Shara could hardly breathe. His lips were so soft and sweet. Her knees went to mush. He kissed her gently and then moved back to look into her eyes again. He seemed to be waiting for a response. The look in his eyes told Shara he was as anxious as she was. She didn’t want him to be. But she was frozen and couldn’t say or do anything.

  He stepped back and put his hand over his chest. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

  Her tongue came unstuck. “Don’t be.”

  “Don’t be what?”

  “Sorry.”

  He looked at her hopefully. “No?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Okay.” He smiled, biting his bottom lip.

  “Okay.” She smiled, biting her top one.

  They both stood there staring at each other.

  Shara looked at her watch. “I . . . I better get to class. I’m already late.” She could feel him watching as she walked away. She took a deep breath and turned back around. “Seven o’clock.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll meet you at the house at 7:00.” She smiled.

  “What?”

  “Dinner. You asked me to go out to dinner.”

  “Oh! Yeah. Dinner. Okay. Seven is good. Seven is great. Seven
is . . . perfect.”

  “Okay, see you at seven then.”

  “Yeah?

  She nodded. “Yeah.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Every outfit Shara owned was strewn across her bed, hanging on her bathroom door, or in a rejected heap on the floor. She had lost count of the number of times she had changed. At the risk of being teased, she decided to call Keeva for help.

  “Hello.” A male voice answered the phone.

  “Oh! Can I . . . I’m sorry. This is Shara Anderson, a friend of Keeva’s. Is she there?”

  She thought she heard the man suck his teeth and take a tight breath. She was sure she heard pure venom in his voice when he said, “She’s not available right now.”

  “Oh. Okay, well, could you tell her . . . never mind.” Shara hung up the phone. What was his problem?

  She flopped back on the bed, lying on her clothes. Get over it, Shara. You’re just going to dinner. Put on some clothes, get in the car and go.

  She closed her eyes and tried to recapture the feeling of Quinton’s lips against hers. She rubbed her cheek softly where his finger had caressed her. She sighed. The phone rang and brought her out of her reverie.

  “Shara? Did you just call here?” It was Keeva, sounding irritated.

  “Keeeeeeeeva!” Shara sang her name. “I’m so glad you called me back. I neeeeeed you.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I looked all over for you at school today, but I couldn’t find you.”

  “Shara, what is going on?”

  “He kissed me!”

  “What?”

  “Quinton kissed me.”

  “I knew it! I told you! Oh my goodness!”

  “Help me,” Shara whined.

  “What’s wrong, Shar?” Keeva’s voice was excited and sympathetic at the same time.

  “I’m supposed to meet him at Mother Hobbs and he’s taking me to dinner but—”

  “Oh my God! I knew it! I told you!”

  “KEEVA! Please!”

  “What’s wrong? I thought this is what you wanted. Remember you said—”

  “I KNOW!”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “I don’t know what to wear.” Shara described the scene in her bedroom. “Are you laughing? You’re laughing. I can’t believe you’re laughing at me. KEEVA!”

  “I’m sorry. Don’t worry, girl. This is an easy one. Wear the brown.”

  “What?”

  “The brown outfit you wore when we saw Alvin Ailey. Remember that night?”

  “Oooohhhh. Are you sure? You don’t think it’s too—?”

  “Yes, I do, and that’s exactly why I think you should wear it.”

  “Keeva. I don’t want to—”

  “Shara. Trust me, okay. Have I ever steered you wrong?”

  “No.”

  “Would I steer you wrong on this?”

  “I guess not,” Shara whined.

  “What time are you supposed to be there? Do you want me to come do your makeup?”

  “Seven.”

  “Shara, it’s 6:15! What are you doing?”

  “Trying to decide what to wear.”

  “Shara, get up, put on the brown outfit, put on some eyeliner and the spicy brown lipstick, and drive to Mother Hobbs house.”

  “Okay.”

  “Can you handle that?”

  “Yes.”

  Keeva laughed. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m gonna do something dumb like trip and fall, or have broccoli sticking out of my teeth or I’m gonna say something stupid—”

  “Shara, you’re not. You’re going to be absolutely ravishingly beautiful and you’re going to sweep Quinton off his feet more than you already have and it’s going to be wonderful. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Now get dressed and go. Call me when you get in, no matter what time it is.”

  “Yeah, right, so Mark can practically cuss me out again.”

  “I’m sorry about that. He won’t be here. He gets put out at night now.”

  “Really? What happened?”

  “Shara, you’re procrastinating. I’m hanging up the phone now so you can get dressed. Have a beautiful time. You deserve it.”

  “Keeva?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks.”

  “Anytime.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Shara rang Mother Hobbs’ doorbell and stepped back. She was relieved Mother Hobbs answered the door.

  “Well, sooky sooky now! Look at you, Miss Thang. You gon’ mess that boy’s head up looking like that.”

  Shara put her finger to her lips. “Hush! Don’t you dare embarrass me.”

  “Child, please. Quinton can’t hear me.” Mother Hobbs led her into the house. “He’s upstairs back and forth between his room and the bathroom where he’s been for the last hour. I’ve never seen a man take so long to get dressed.”

  “Really?” Shara was vindicated to know he had experienced the same agony she had.

  “I’ll be right down,” they heard him call from upstairs.

  “You look absolutely beautiful.” Mother Hobbs started to pat Shara’s cheeks, but Shara pulled away.

  “Ooowee. I’m sorry, Miss Thang. I didn’t mean to mess up your makeup.”

  “Mother Hobbs, please behave when Quinton comes downstairs. Don’t tease me in front of him.”

  “I would never do that.” Mother Hobbs studied Shara. “Look at you. You’re all nervous. I don’t know which one of y’all is worse.”

  “Here I come.” Quinton could be heard from upstairs again.

  Shara patted her curls. Mother Hobbs pulled her hands away from her hair. “You look fine. Relax.”

  Quinton came down the steps. Shara bit her lip, then made herself stop so she wouldn’t mess up her lipstick. He had on a pair of black slacks with an olive green knit shirt that hugged all the muscles in his chest and arms. Thankfully, he slipped a black sports jacket over it on the way down the steps. His mouth dropped open when he saw Shara. Mother Hobbs mysteriously disappeared.

  He walked over and kissed her on the cheek. “Wow, you look absolutely beautiful.”

  “You, too.” She shook her head. “I mean, you look very nice, too.”

  They smiled at each other.

  “Ready?” Quinton bit his lip.

  Shara nodded.

  They called out a good night to Mother Hobbs and walked out the door. Quinton helped her up into the truck. They drove in nervous silence. Shara pulled his CD case out and thumbed through his collection. She put on a Frank McComb CD.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “Someplace nice.” Quinton smiled.

  “Okay.” They both seemed to be concentrating on the music.

  He finally pulled up at Paschal’s Restaurant. He parked and got out to help Shara out of the car.

  Shara was glad for a chance to finally get to eat at Paschal’s. Everyone always talked about how good the soul food was there. The hostess led them to their table. Shara perused the menu. She saw a lot of things she wanted, but decided to get a salad. She was starving, so she hoped it was a big one. Quinton ordered a slab of ribs, macaroni and cheese, candied yams, and greens. Shara frowned. Those were her favorites.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She should have eaten before she came.

  “Are you sure all you want is a salad?”

  Shara nodded. She hoped Quinton didn’t hear her stomach growl. She sipped on her lemonade. It took the edge off her hunger, but if she didn’t eat some real food soon, she was going to get a headache. The waitress brought a basket of bread. Shara slowly picked up a piece and nibbled on it. Quinton picked up a piece and slathered butter on it. It was gone seconds later.

  Shara giggled. “Hungry?”

  “Starving. Whenever I start running again, my appetite triples.”

  “Me too.”

  “Please. A salad? That ain’t no appetite.”

&n
bsp; Shara took another bite of her bread. “So what’s up with your place? You’ve been here almost two months now. You know what? I don’t think you really have a place. I think that’s what you and Mother Hobbs are telling everybody. I think secretly, you have no intentions of leaving there and she has no intention of letting you go.”

  “Is that so? I’ll have you know that not only do I have a place, but it’ll be ready very soon.”

  “Soon? This must be a castle, as long as it’s taking them to finish it. Come clean, Quinton. I bet you’re staking out my room at Mother Hobbs’ house, too.”

  “Okay, conspiracy theorist. For real though, the owner decided to renovate the entire building and I didn’t want to live there while construction was still going on.”

  “Umm hmm. Whatever you say.”

  “Really. Would I lie to you?”

  Shara narrowed her eyes at him as if examining him to see if he would. “I guess not. There’s one way to tell. Does anyone get to see this place or is its location to remain a secret?”

  “You can see it as soon as it’s done. In fact, Jenell has seen it because she’s started looking at furniture. You can call her and verify that this place does in fact exist.”

  “I think I’ll do that.”

  “I can’t believe you don’t believe me.”

  “I know how great it is living with Mother Hobbs, that’s all. I didn’t want to move either.”

  “She is great, isn’t she? How’d you meet her anyway?”

  Shara told him how they’d met. She talked about the impact Mother Hobbs had on her spirituality. She talked a little about her spiritual upbringing and all the mind renewing she’d had to do to get over it.

  “Gee, and I thought the church I came out of was bad.”

  “You always talk about how bad it was. I don’t understand what made you go there in the first place.”

  Quinton took a sip of his sweet tea. “It was my mom’s church. When my little brother died, I was really touched by how supportive they were. You know how everybody is there and brings food right after a funeral and then after that, they’re nowhere to be found?”

  Shara nodded.

  “Well, they were always there, even for months afterwards. Some of the women came to clean the house and bring groceries a couple of times a week. They showed my mother and me and my brothers so much love and support.”

 

‹ Prev