Rhythms of Grace (43 page)

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Authors: Marilynn Griffith

Tags: #FIC042000, #FIC027020, #FIC048000

BOOK: Rhythms of Grace
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Carmel gave her man over just like that? Why now? I opened a drawer in the coffee table, reached inside, and handed Jerry a jewelry box. “Well, it looks like Carmel got it wrong too. Just like the rest of us. Go pawn this and buy Monique and your granddaughter a Christmas gift.”

“My what? You know about that?”

I shrugged. “Not because you told me. When was that update scheduled? After the wedding?”

He hugged me again, softer this time. “I was going to tell you tonight.” He pushed the ring my way. “I don’t want it back, no matter what your father says. My mother picked it out just for you. All I came to tell you was that we won’t be able to count on your father’s support like we thought.”

I laid my head on his chest. Or was that his belly?

He’s so tall
.
Great for a child to look up to.

“Since Daddy wants to play crazy, we’ll have to find another pastor to counsel us. Marry us too, I guess. He won’t marry anybody he doesn’t feel right about.”

Jerry ruffled my hair. I went stiff, wishing I’d tied it down before he came. Now I’d have to wrap it all over again. Oh well. I’d have to get used to this. A man. My man. It sounded strange even in my mind.

“I’m glad you mentioned another pastor. I didn’t know how you’d feel about that since you’ve been at Mount Olive all your life.”

All my life. All my life wasted, sitting on the front pew, wiping the noses of other people’s children, singing when nobody showed, cooking when nobody felt like it, and still, Daddy had done this. Never said a word. “No. We can go wherever you feel comfortable. God is everywhere.”

He smiled. “I already have a place in mind. That mixed church over in the shopping center. Quinn goes there. Ron too.”

I wobbled a little. Jerry bent down, steadying my shoulders. “Are you okay? We can wait if you want—”

I pulled away. “No. That’s fine. We can try it out whenever you want. Grace goes there too.”

“See there! I told you the Lord was in this. We’ll go Sunday, okay?”

“Su-ure.” I ran for the bathroom.

63

Grace

Mom and Daddy came to visit today. They didn’t stay
long. People are wondering where I am, they said.
Mom worried they’d been followed. Daddy looked at
my belly—it’s big now—and he cried. I’ve never seen
him do that, not even when Grandma and Grandpa
died. I guess watching me die is worse.

Diana Dixon

From the sound of the church tape, I’d missed a great service. Pastor David had been on point as usual. If I hadn’t been so tired, I would have pushed myself to make it, but there was nothing worse than sleeping in church. When it gets like that, I need to check myself.

Since that night at the church with Reverend Wilkins, I’d been dancing most every day. In the mornings at home, developing a curriculum for the new Ngozi dance troupe, and in the evenings at Zeely’s dance class or an occasional ballet class at a studio nearby. Ballet had been a nightmare when I was a girl, but now it seemed soothing somehow.

Still, I couldn’t dance my way whole. It wasn’t going to change Lottie’s threat or stop my feelings toward Brian. Those were things that I was going to have to put as much energy into overcoming as I was putting into my dancing. The question was . . . when?

Lord, please be patient with me. I’m trying.

The Brian thing might require fleeing the locality, but the thing with Lottie could be dealt with easily by me doing what I should have done years ago, opening up my mouth. Zeely had been having company most every night this week, male company by the looks of the vehicles, but I’m no one to judge. Still, I had a story to tell and, before this week was out, Miss Zee was going to hear it.

I eased my car around the corner. There was a black SUV in front of Zeely’s house. The license plate made my mouth drop: Big Q Dog. Jerry had worn a fraternity jacket with the name last week. A man at Zeely’s place on a weeknight? It was a sight I thought I’d never see.

He’s marrying her. I guess he’s got the right.

I still wasn’t so sure how I felt about that. When Zeely dropped her diamond bomb on me the last time we were together, I should have been happy. I wasn’t. Something about it just didn’t fit. Zeely’s sad face and her bare finger since her announcement was another weird thing. I kept praying and kept my mouth shut. I had problems of my own.

I dragged my sore body into my condo, which felt emptier than usual tonight, probably because Zeely had company. And from now on, she’d always have company. Was this how Zeely had felt when I married Peter? I felt like I should go down and apologize. I didn’t want to, not with Jerry there. I loved working with the guy, but as a husband for Zeely? Nah.

I thought it would have been Ron.

I’d joined Ron and Zeely a few times for their fun nights: a few board games, a good movie, a great dinner, lots of prayers. The guy had even beaten me at Bible Trivia. That didn’t happen often. And the guys who could beat me were usually serious, intense, like Mal. Ron knew how to laugh, how to have fun. And he and Zeely seemed to have a lot of it. After my third time with them, I’d declined their next invitation. The two of them didn’t realize it, but they were dating, and I didn’t care too much for being the third wheel. Now there’d be no wheel at all.

I peeked out the curtains. Jerry’s car hadn’t moved. So much for late-night girl talk. I sighed and mounted the stairs. Zeely might be getting married, but I still had something to tell her. No man would stand in the way of that.

64

Ron

I dialed the numbers with caution and turned the heat in the car up a little higher. Toasty. She probably wouldn’t pick up anyway. A woman’s voice surprised me on the line.

“Min? It’s me. Ron. How are you?”

“Okay, I guess. I see you’re back in town, huh?”

“Yeah. A few weeks now.”

“You didn’t have to leave. Daddy still thinks you’re a saint. If you want your job back—”

“I don’t. I just wanted . . .” What did I want? “I wanted to say I’m sorry for how this whole thing went down and that I’m proud of you for keeping your baby and—”

There was a gasp on the other end of the line, then silence. If she was surprised that I’d figured things out, she had a quiet way of showing it.

“Min?”

“Don’t be proud of me yet. By tomorrow, there won’t be any baby.”

She wouldn’t. “What are you saying? Come on. You counseled at the Women’s Center, led the Life march—”

“Things change.”

“God’s Word hasn’t changed. Where are you? Let’s meet somewhere. Talk. You can’t get an appointment tonight anyway.” At least I hoped not. I made a U-turn just in case. If she did have an appointment, I knew the place. Twenty-five hundred Stroop Road.

“I had to pay double, but they’re going to take me. An evening clinic.”

I revved toward the highway.

Just keep her talking.
“How many times did you tell me that women who do this are just scared, unable to see their options? There are options, Mindy. A way of escape. God always provides one.”

“Not this time. I’m not taking a life, I’m saving one. When my father finds out, he’ll beat it out of me anyway.”

I threw my head back, pressing harder against the accelerator. John Bent, my former employer, had been a jerk with me enough times, but with Mindy, he always seemed so nice. Quiet. Weren’t those the ones? My mother had hardly ever said a peep in public. She saved her words for me.

“You’re not a little girl, Mindy. You can move out. Move away if you have to. I’ll help you. Your dad will change his tune when the baby comes. It’s his own flesh and blood. He’ll thank you.”

Laughter, mixed with tears. “If I made it to delivery, he’d take one look at that baby and kill it right there on the table. I’m almost to the clinic. I’ve got to go.”

The Saab roamed lane to lane, chasing a gold Corvette up ahead. Was it her? Yes. Blond hair filled the front seat. A phone to her ear. She headed for the exit. I followed.

“Wait. Is something wrong with the baby? Special needs? He’ll understand. It’ll take some time, but he will—”

“He won’t, Ron. The baby is healthy. I saw it on the ultrasound. It’s just black, and a boy just like Daniel wanted. Daddy won’t stand for it. No way.”

I slowed, a few car lengths behind. Black? What was she saying? And Daniel . . . It couldn’t be. “Daniel Lazarus? The old worship leader everybody talks about?” I’d only met him a few times, but his voice and his walk with the Lord were legendary around Tender Mercies.

“One and the same.” She turned off up ahead into an office complex. I stopped behind a van marked Medical Delivery.

She stepped out of the car. “I’m here. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. This isn’t my first time.”

Mine either.

The van moved on and I pulled in behind her. She didn’t notice me. “Does your dad know anything? What did you tell him about us, about the wedding?”

“Just that things didn’t work out.”

“How about we work them out then?”

“Ron . . .”

“If I married you, would you keep it? The baby, I mean.”

“You would do that for me?”

It’s for me too.
“I would.” I walked up behind her.

She jumped. “How did you find me?”

I stared down at the mound curving up through her dress. I smiled. “I know the way. I followed someone here before.”

Mindy laughed, wiping away tears. “You married her too?”

“Nope. That time, I got here too late.”

65

Grace

I’ve got some friends now. Jenny is seventeen. She’s
keeping her baby. She has pretty fingernails and a ring
on every finger except the right one. Her boyfriend
comes to visit every weekend. Kelly is from Cincinnati.
I don’t know why somebody would hide out in their
own town, but I guess it works for her. Kelly knows a
lot about boys. I asked her how she got pregnant since
she knows so much, but she got mad at me. I really
wanted to know.

Diana Dixon

My opportunity to get with Zeely came quicker than I thought. When I went out to start my car for work, it wouldn’t start. In my rush last night, I’d left on my headlights. I grabbed my purse and started for Zeely’s house. Maybe now, we could talk.

Of course I’d have to endure the speech about why we both didn’t need to drive anyway. I felt guilty enough about it, wasting the gas, but Zee could be all too perky in the morning sometimes. It was a wonder she was still home now. She usually left for school an hour to an hour and a half early. I’d started out the year that way, but now I got there thirty minutes before school started and was glad of that.

Zeely’s engine hummed as I passed it and stepped onto her porch. Before I could knock, the door opened. “What’s wrong? No gas?” she said, buttoning her pink angora coat.

“Left the lights on,” I mumbled, knowing that Zeely had never done such a silly thing in her life.

“Bummer. Come on, I’m on my way out.” She grabbed her keys from off the counter and stepped outside. We walked to the car in silence. Zeely avoided my eyes and picked up her scraper, attacking a patch of ice on her windshield.

“I’ve got something to tell you.” My voice strained over the sound of the running car.

Zeely continued scraping nothing. “The only thing you need to talk to me about is why I’m stuck listening to Brian talk about you all day.”

“Brian? Asking about me?” What did
he
want to know? “You’ll have to fill me in later. Right now I need you to listen to me.”

The scraper screeched against the glass one last time. Zeely opened the car door and got in. I sighed and slid in beside her. Was she avoiding me? Maybe I was imagining it. I aimed the heat vent at my face, then turned to my friend.

“Remember when—”

“Whatever it is, Grace, I don’t want to hear it.” The car rolled back onto the road.

I can’t believe this.

After all this time of trying to keep my secret, I hadn’t planned on someone not wanting to know. Unless . . . I looked over at Zeely’s eyes, swollen with sleeplessness. Did Zee have some skeletons too?

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