Faithful (14 page)

“Noah York stepped down last month from overseeing the men's ministry because of an affair.”

“Oh, that's right,” Cyd said. “And there's Jessica Handy.”

Jessica had gotten pregnant while serving as director of the kids' choir—and she was single.

“Remember when all that strife was going on in different ministries,” Cyd said, “and folk were leaving left and right?”

Trish crossed her legs. “I remember. Pastor started that series on walking in love.”

Dana looked at them both. “Can you imagine if he did a series on all of this?”

T
HE SOUND OF
glasses tinkling echoed all around the ballroom. Lindell put down his fork, leaned left, and kissed the new Mrs. London for the umpteenth time.

Cedric had started it. When it was time to give the toast, he carried his butter knife and water glass to the podium and, before he said a word, lifted the glass and started the chorus. This one was the longest thus far, and the crowd was cheering now as Lindell and Stephanie hung with them.

Cedric lowered his glass, and the others followed. He leaned to the microphone. “I have the privilege as the best man to toast the groom, my little brother.” He looked at Lindell and smiled. “Those of you who know Lindell and me are not surprised that he's getting married first, though he's several years younger. I'm the confirmed bachelor, right?” He looked out at the elegantly decorated tables with pale gold-and-white place settings. “Where are my aunts? That's what they like to call me.”

Three aunts waved their hands and nodded vigorously. “That's right,” one said.

Cedric turned his torso toward his brother. “Lindell is different. I think he came out of the womb looking for someone to settle down with.”

Lindell hid his face behind his hand.

“I had to caution him at fifteen, eighteen, twenty-one—‘Don't be so quick to give your heart to one girl. Play the field, for goodness' sake.'”

The young men in the room roared in agreement. The young women booed. From her seat on the riser up front, Cyd could see Cedric's girlfriend at a table with people she likely didn't know, eyeing Cedric with a bothered expression.

Cedric adjusted his tuxedo jacket and smiled at the bride and groom. “But while he was hitting the books in college and med school and slaving away in his residency, he was still looking for the woman of his dreams. And finally now, in Stephanie, he's found her.” Cedric paused and held the sides of the podium. “I remember when he called and told me, ‘Ced, this is the one, man.' I had to test him, find out why he thought she was so special. He said she was thoughtful and caring, she listened to him, made him feel he was the most important person in her world.”

He leaned back to get a good look at Stephanie, then added, “I'm sure the fact that she's beautiful didn't hurt.”

The guests chuckled. Cyd glanced at her sister. Either Lindell brought out the best in her, or she was good at her game too. Given Stephanie's history, Cyd was prone to think the latter. She looked over in Dana's direction as she'd done all afternoon. She seemed okay, considering, sitting with Scott, the kids, and Trish. Heather hadn't shown up at the reception.

“I have to tell this one story, and I'm done. My brother has a big heart, but he's not exactly the most romantic. He told me he was going to propose and that he planned to take Stephanie out to dinner and pop the question during dessert. I said, ‘And? What about flowers, a string quartet? I know it's old, but at least hide the ring in the dessert or something.'” Cedric looked at Lindell with brotherly love. “And I'll never forget this. He said he didn't want any extras, because they couldn't come close to conveying what was in his heart. He just wanted her to focus on what he had to say about his love for her. And I'm guessing he conveyed it well.”

Cedric raised his champagne glass. “To Lindell and Stephanie: may the gift of true love bind your hearts together for the rest of your days.”

He led the guests in taking a sip, and someone started tinkling a glass. It caught on quickly again, and Lindell and Stephanie happily obliged with another long kiss.

Cyd noticed Dana, Scott, and the kids leaving.

“I hate to cut into the merriment.” The disc jockey's deep voice penetrated the action. Mike was a friend of Lindell and Cedric's and a real on-air personality. “But I'm sure the bride and groom won't mind. I'm told it's time for the first dance.”

Lindell scooted his chair back, placed his napkin on the table, and guided Stephanie to the middle of the floor as someone cut the main lights. A circular swath of blue light glowed above the dance floor, creating a romantic mood. When “Someone to Love” began, Lindell swayed with his wife, arms tight around her waist.

Stephanie had said he loved Mint Condition and couldn't decide which song to feature, so he told Mike he wanted a Mint concert, as if the band were playing all their love songs just for them.

Cyd didn't listen to music much since she spent most of her time reading or writing, and when she did listen, it was almost always praise music. But she knew about Mint Condition. The one guy she'd been serious about had been a fan as well and played one of their old CDs to death. It included this very song, and she'd fallen in love with it.

Cedric bent over Cyd's shoulder. “Wanna dance?”

She gave him a look. “This is their dance.”

“Okay.” He sat down. If she wasn't mistaken, he had a gleam in his eye.

Mike's mellow voice cut in as the song faded. “We need the best man and the maid of honor to join the bride and groom on the floor.”

Cyd's stomach took a dive. Cedric was already out of his seat, hand extended to help Cyd out of hers. They'd been sitting side by side throughout the meal, and she couldn't help but enjoy his company. He had a way of hanging on every word, looking deep into her eyes, making her feel like nothing else mattered. She had tried to keep her distance by casting her eyes about the crowd and talking to the bridesmaid on her left. But now . . .

With the guests waiting, she rose and took his hand. It wrapped tightly around hers. As he led her to the floor, “U Send Me Swingin'” floated from the speakers. The midtempo was good, she thought. They wouldn't have to get too close. But what happened next was almost worse.

Cedric took both of her hands and goaded her into an old-style bop, pulling her in and back out, stepping side to side. Every few seconds, he would come close, grab her waist and sway with her, then step back again, twirling her around. She followed his movements and added some of her own, lost in the melody.

Before she knew it, Stephanie and Lindell had stopped to watch, and there was a crowd growing at the edge of the dance floor, egging them on. Embarrassed, Cyd slowed and her steps faltered, but Cedric pulled her close again and locked eyes with her, rocking her back into rhythm. When he twirled her back out, she caught a glimpse of his girlfriend in the watching crowd and felt bad for her. She let his hands go as the song ended and took a step toward her seat, but DJ Mike had his eye on her.

“Not so fast, Ms. Sanders.” He said it with a low voice, as if she alone could hear. “All bridesmaids and groomsmen to the floor,” he called. “All bridesmaids and groomsmen wanted on the floor.” With a low voice again, he said, “Ms. Sanders, you're stuck with your partner for one more song.”

When she heard the intro to the song, she looked at Mike, then Cedric. They had to be in cahoots.

The bridal party members, paired up according to the way they had walked down the aisle, fell into place on the dance floor to the sultry sound of “So Fine.” The attendants all struck a distant posture, but Cedric took Cyd's hand again and pulled her close. This time he wrapped his arms around her waist and kept them there.

Cyd leaned her head back. “Cedric, I don't feel right. Your girlfriend's just standing there watching us.”

He didn't turn to look. “She's not my girlfriend. I've always been straight with Tamia. She knew from the beginning that I wasn't looking for a commitment.” He nudged her head close to his chest. “She just thought she could change my mind.”

Cedric moved his hand slowly up her back, in time with the vibe of the music. He reached his other hand toward his chest, unbuttoning his tuxedo jacket, and brought her closer.

Cyd thought she would melt.

He whispered in her ear, “Don't you think we need to spend some time getting to know each other better this evening?”

She closed her eyes against his chest. His voice, the lead singer Stokley's voice, Cedric's wandering hands, the pulsating guitar, all mingled together to send her beyond any place she'd ever inhabited. How long had it been since she'd been held? She wanted more than anything to see him again.

She needed this song to end.

“I don't know, Cedric.”

Walk in the Spirit, not in the flesh
.

Cyd shuddered, needing to tear herself away this very second—this was crazy!—but her body and emotions were on a ride all their own.

He played with the hair down her back. “How about I pick you up at six forty-five? We'll go to dinner, have a nice celebration, and take it from there.”

Take it from there?

No
reverberated in her head, but it careened with her other thoughts and feelings. It was just dinner. Why shouldn't she do something special for her birthday? What was her alternative? Go home and celebrate with Reese over soup and kibble?

She took a deep breath. “I guess six forty-five is okay.”

Ten

P
HYLLIS SPOTTED A
Toyota Camry pulling out of a metered parking spot near the student union. She tapped Stacy's arm. “Stacy, right here.”

Stacy parallel parked, and Phyllis quickly swung the passenger side door open. In a flash she was out, fluffing her hair, waiting on the curb. “What is taking you all so long? I can't believe we're late again.”

Gretta poked her head out from the back. “I'm trying to get my shoes on. What is the deal with you today?”

Phyllis looked around at the growing horde of fans in Terrapin red heading to the parking lots. “Is the game over?” she asked one passerby.

He gave a thumbs-up. “Yep. Terps pulled it out, 13–6.”

Phyllis gaped at the women. “We're so late we missed the game!”

Natalie got out and stretched. “We weren't going to the game.”

“I know. But we missed all the tailgating that happens
during
the game. I'll bet people are leaving the tailgate too.”

Stacy's head popped up from the driver's side. “They won't be going anywhere for at least a couple of hours.” She closed the door and went to the trunk to grab her purse.

“I don't see what the rush was,” Gretta said, emerging finally. “We were having a good time talking at the house. We could have skipped the tailgate and hooked up with everybody at dinner.”

Phyllis gave Gretta a look. “The whole point of scheduling the reunion on this weekend was so we could enjoy our twentieth anniversary
and
homecoming, and so far today we've done neither.”

She started walking the minute the other three hit the curb. “We missed breakfast with our line sisters because you all didn't want to get up early enough to drive out here. We missed Maurette and the Maryland Gospel Choir concert—same reason. And now we've missed most of the tailgate.”

“But the four of us are kind of a mini-reunion.” Natalie was trying to keep up. “I'm glad we got to stay in our pj's half the day and talk. You just can't do stuff like this at home. And you all helped me sort through the issue with my mother.”

“I know. That's true.” Phyllis did appreciate their time together. “I guess the weekend is too short. I wanted to spend quality time with you all
and
make it to the events.” She turned to Stacy, keeping her stride. “I hope you're right. I hope people are still here.”

They passed the front of the student union and saw right away that a sizable crowd was still milling about on the terrace where alumni gathered.

“Happy?”

Phyllis rolled her eyes at Gretta.

They made their way onto the scene—music pumping, little ones playing and eating hot dogs, their parents enjoying the alumni tradition. They stood in place, scanning the crowd.

“There they are,” Stacy said, pointing left.

The women made their way toward the congregation of sorority sisters, but Phyllis was stopped every few feet by people who hadn't been at Jasper's—and she got the same chorus: “Look at you! Turn around! Wow!”

Stacy, Natalie, and Gretta walked on, and when Phyllis finally caught up with everybody, she couldn't believe they were ready to go.

“We just got here!”

Sonya put a hand to her hip. “Uh . . . no. Most of us have been here for three hours. We need to get changed and ready for dinner.”

Phyllis had one eye on Sonya, the other on the faces in the crowd.

“Why do we need to change? We're not going anywhere fancy.”

Daphne nodded. “I'm not changing. But I'm still ready to go.

We've seen about all there is to see here today.”

Crestfallen, Phyllis glanced around again and saw him sitting away from the throng on a grassy area with two other guys. Her pulse raced and she looked away. It would be way too obvious if she—

Phyllis sucked in a breath. He was walking her way. She felt silly pretending not to notice—worse for wanting to see him in the first place. She tracked him from the corner of her eye, thinking he could be headed someplace else. But in a matter of moments, he was beside her.

“Hey.” He smiled that smile, wearing a simple Maryland Terrapin long-sleeved shirt, jeans, and a jacket. “I was thinking you might not be coming,” he said.

Was he looking for me too?