In Times of Trouble (32 page)

“This one better be good or else you're going to be banned from picking the movies from now on,” she playfully warned him. “You should have gotten a comedy or something because that was awful!”

“Oh, don't give me that. When I asked you what you wanted me to get, you said, and I quote, ‘It doesn't matter. . .get whatever.'”

She threw a kernel his way as he reached in the bowl for a handful. “Well, clearly ‘whatever' meant a comedy, duh?”

RJ laughed. “Next time I'll try and do a better job of reading your mind.” He leaned in confidently for a kiss. He released her
mouth long enough to whisper the words, “I love you. . .” and then embraced her lips again with his tender ones. She could taste the salt of the popcorn on his mouth as she allowed herself to get deeper into the act.

Though they spent a lot of time together, they didn't engage in kisses like this too often. Lisa wanted to “take things slow” and every time his lips met with hers, she was reminded of their times together. RJ had always been a great kisser. Right now, he was dangerously great, because her mind played reruns of how his lips had often explored her from head to toe during their previous relationship.

Lisa didn't allow her thoughts to run away. When they finally came up for air, she deflected the moment by saying, “I hope you don't think that lets you off the hook for picking a crappy movie.”

RJ smiled, warmly. “I'm sure that had to count for something.” He grabbed the remote and started the movie. He definitely exhibited patience with her. He seemed to know when to quit and she appreciated that.

The second movie was much better than the first. It was full of action and held Lisa's attention with every scene. They were about halfway through it when flashing blue and red lights soared through the living room window. The scene had been all too familiar to Lisa and she panicked, recalling how fearful she'd been the first time she'd seen these lights nearly a year ago when Chanelle had skipped curfew. RJ was the first to the door with Lisa at his heels.

“Officer, what can I do for you? I'm Robert Hampton and this is my wife, Lisa.”

Calling her his wife was still a habit that RJ hadn't shaken, even though they had been divorced for nearly six years now. It no longer bothered or surprised Lisa when he did.

“Do either of you know this young lady?” The officer held Chanelle's driver's license.

“Yes, she's our daughter. What's wrong? How'd you get that?”

“Sir, I'm afraid I have some bad news. . .”

• • •

Lisa's father walked into the hospital room. “Skeeter, I wanted to let you know that Kyle and Stacie are out in the waiting room. You want me to tell them to come back here?”

“Yes, that's fine, Daddy. How's Mama?” she asked, her face felt sticky from dried tears. They'd been at the hospital all night, waiting. . .hoping. . .praying for something to change.

“Not good. I'm going to take her home to get some rest. I'll be back in a few hours after I pick Callie up from the airport.”

“Baby, do you mind waiting a few minutes before allowing Kyle and Stacie to come back here? I would like to be alone with Chanelle for a minute,” requested RJ.

She nodded. “I'll walk out with you, Daddy.”

People had been in and out all night—Hattie, Raymond, Pastor Burlington, Chanelle's best friend, Gericka and her parents, Lisa's former assistant, Megan, plus others from the rehabilitation center and church. RJ just wanted a minute alone with his daughter. He continued leaning over her comatose body, his tears splashing on her cheeks. “Chanelle, if you can hear me. . .I want you to know how much I love you. I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so sorry that I haven't always been a good father. I'm so sorry. . .” He broke down. The tubes and monitors connected to his baby girl reminded him of his guilt for failing his family years ago. Traces of the conversation he'd had with David Thanksgiving night still played in his mind, but those memories didn't stop the nagging question: Would Chanelle be in this position had he
made different choices? Was he Achan and had his entire family been destroyed because of his sins?

“God. . .” RJ sobbed. “I'm sorry I let You down; I'm sorry I made so many mistakes. God, do whatever You have to do to me, but please. . .
please
don't punish Chanelle for anything that I have done.”

S
tacie walked with Lisa as she escorted her parents to their car. Kyle, the vibrant young boy Lisa had grown to love, had stayed behind in the waiting room; all the joy drained from his eyes. He made no attempt to hide his pain as tears freely flowed down his face when Lisa hugged him.

“My nerves are too messed up. I need a cigarette before going back in. I'll meet you up there,” said Stacie.

Lisa wasn't crazy about engulfing secondhand smoke, but she stayed outside with Stacie anyhow.

“How is she?” Stacie wasted no time lighting up.

“Not good. She was conscious for a little while before we got here, but she's been in the coma ever since.”

“And the baby?”

“He's hanging in there. I pray he pulls through. He's so tiny.”

Stacie blew circles with her smoke. “It's all over the news. Thank you for calling and telling us.”

“I know how much you guys care about Chanelle. I didn't want you to find out about this through the media.”

“The police better catch up with Olivia before I do because I swear if I see her, I'm going to kill her.”

Lisa identified with Stacie's anger, remembering the gut-wrenching feeling she had when the police officer stated that Chanelle had been involved in a drive-by shooting. He gave her and RJ all the information that he had at the time. The “friend” Chanelle had gone to meet was Olivia. The police have a 9-1-1 tape of Chanelle calling for assistance from her cell phone after having been shot. During the call, Chanelle stated she had agreed to meet Olivia at a restaurant because Olivia wanted to make amends and be in the baby's life.

According to what Chanelle told the police, she was in the process of following Olivia home so she could pick up some things that Olivia had bought for the baby. As they were about to get on the freeway, Olivia's car came to a complete stop and another car pulled alongside Chanelle. When the passenger of the other car began firing into Chanelle's vehicle, Olivia sped off. Chanelle was able to give the operator her location, which helped them find her quickly. Lisa and RJ were told that Chanelle was able to talk to the officers when she was initially brought into the emergency room; and when she was no longer able to speak, she wrote sketchy notes, scribbling Olivia's name repeatedly. Unfortunately, RJ and Lisa never got a chance to speak with their daughter because she had slipped into a coma minutes before their arrival. The last words RJ and Lisa ever heard their daughter say to them were “I love you.”

Chanelle had been shot four times: once in the head and neck; and twice in the abdomen. It was by the grace of God that the bullets missed the baby. He was delivered via an emergency C-section. The doctors were still concerned about him, though, since he was six weeks premature and had been born under stress.

“That woman is ruthless to do something like this, especially to the baby, who is her own flesh and blood.” Stacie continued puffing her cigarette.

“She obviously doesn't care. I've learned the hard way that Olivia is vindictive. I bet this is her way of trying to take my child from me since she blames us for Justin being in jail. The crazy thing is, I do feel responsible. . .not for Justin, but for Chanelle. Maybe if I had reported the times I suspected Olivia of following me. . .”

“What! When was this?”

“Last year sometime, before the trial started. I mentioned to RJ that I had seen her a couple of times, but after a while I stopped telling him. He was being very protective, and I appreciated it, but I guess I really didn't consider her a danger; and I didn't want him getting all worked up about nothing. I didn't see her anymore once the trial really got underway, so I figured it was over. I should have known she was capable of something like this. I remember—”

“Remember what?”

“Nothing. . .” Lisa thought back to the day when Olivia sat in her office listening to her vent about Kyle and jokingly told Lisa that a hit could be arranged. In retrospect, Lisa believed that Olivia was serious and had she shown genuine interest, Olivia may have arranged for something similar to happen to Kyle. “I feel like I should have seen this coming.”

“Lisa, this isn't your fault,” Stacie said along with some other things. She called Olivia a few choice words that, quite frankly, Lisa had thought, but hadn't spoken out loud.

“I really appreciate how much you and Kyle have been there for Chanelle. I don't know if I can ever thank you enough.”

“You don't have to. I've liked Chanelle from the first time I saw her. She was so sweet. Then, when she and Kyle broke up and she started hanging with Justin, I didn't hear from her for a while. I'll never forget the night she called and asked me if I would pick her up.”

“Was that the night she and I got into a fight?”

“Yeah. . .truthfully, I planned to bring her home, but when she told me what Justin had done to her, I identified with her pain in more ways than one.” Stacie lit another cigarette. “I was raped by my mom's boyfriend when I was thirteen. I told her and of course he denied it. She'd only been going out with him for a month, but he wasn't the one she kicked out; it was me. She sent me to live with my alcoholic grandmother who didn't care whether I came or went.”

Stacie's voice cracked and Lisa sensed that she was still dealing with some issues in her childhood. Guilt briefly came over her as she was reminded how she immediately made assumptions about her based on her outer appearance. Having had the last several months to see glimpses of her heart, Lisa knew that she had completely misjudged her; and learned that judging a book by its cover wasn't always wise.

“I'll be the first to admit that I've done a lot of buck wild things. I got pregnant by a man thirty-four years older than me when I was fifteen. I wasn't necessarily a good mother at first. It took a few years for me to get my act together. Sometimes I feel like I failed. I mean, I'm freakin' thirty-three and I have an eighteen-month-old granddaughter. I wanted better for my kids than I had and I don't seem to be able to give them that. I work night and day to make ends meet, but I can't afford to send my son to college.” Stacie swallowed hard. “My point for saying all of this is that I could immediately tell that Chanelle came from a good home. She wasn't the type to experiment with drugs or do any of the wild things that I've done. I know she got drunk that one time and all, but for real, that's mild compared to my teenage years. Chanelle is a good girl. It's just messed up that something like this happened to her.”

Lisa admired Stacie's compassion. “Thanks for being there for her when I wasn't.”

Stacie put out her second cigarette butt. “This is not your fault,” she repeated. “We all make mistakes with our children, but you're not responsible for what happened to Chanelle.”

Stacie sounded extremely sincere and Lisa wanted to believe her, but she still felt an overwhelming amount of guilt. She forced a smile. “Thanks. . .C'mon, let's go back in. We left Kyle in the waiting room. Seeing how upset he was, it's probably not good for him to be alone.”

P
astor Burlington mounted the pulpit slowly, leaning to the right with his cane. “Ladies and gentlemen, we're gathered here today because Robert and Lisa Hampton have been forced to lay their one and only daughter permanently to rest.” Chanelle's lifeless body rested in a charcoal-colored casket amidst various floral arrangements just a few feet from where RJ and Lisa were sitting. “I've done a lot of eulogies in my life. I've buried both of my parents, one of my sisters, my best friend and countless others. Yet, no other service has challenged me like this of eighteen-year-old Chanelle Hampton.”