The Color of Hope (31 page)
Is that what this was about, Lord? It wasn’t enough to stay in St. Louis in
my own selfish world. You had to bring me to Hope Springs so I could experience
what it felt like to extend myself, to love another, and to witness a tragic
end? I had to experience what it was like to pray for someone, then watch her
suffer in such a despicable way? Oh, and for added measure, I got to see prejudice
up close. Nice.
“I should’ve stayed in St. Louis!” she yelled at the top of her lungs. “I
hate
Hope Springs.”
The image of Sam’s body came to mind, and just that fast, her emotions turned back to overwhelming sadness. Her eyes filled with tears.
Sam, I wish you had called me. I wish I could’ve been there for
you . . .
Her mind went through what Sam must’ve been thinking and feeling, how much she must’ve been hurting to actually go into that closet . . .
Lord, this is so painful . . .
Would the tears ever stop? When she pictured the scene today, she cried. When she pictured Sam running through the house with Tiffany on her back, she cried.
And she cried when she recalled Sam’s mom, Teri, at the hospital, hearing the news.
When Teri had arrived, no one on the hospital staff was available immediately to speak with her. Stephanie approached, and Teri was clearly not pleased that Stephanie knew what was going on and she didn’t. It only got worse when she learned that they’d come to her house, let alone
entered
her house. But when Teri grasped what Sam had done to herself, she broke down.
Stephanie went further, telling her what had happened last night and this morning with the video. Teri walked away, lost in her grief. After a nurse came and got her, they didn’t see her again.
Now Stephanie’s phone rang, and the only reason she gave it a thought was because she recognized the ring as Cyd’s.
She answered. “Lindell must’ve called you.”
“He did. I’m so sorry, Steph,” she said. “I know how much Sam meant to you. This is absolutely devastating.”
Stephanie nodded, as if Cyd could see.
“When was the last time you talked to her?” Cyd asked.
“I was with her last night.”
“Oh, wow,” Cyd said. “So you were one of the last people she talked to. That’s a blessing.”
Stephanie stared at the road stretching out in front of her. “How is that a blessing? It obviously made no difference.”
“You don’t know that, Steph.”
“I don’t?”
“I’m just saying, from everything you told me, you made an impact.”
“Yeah. Okay. Next time I guess I should make less of an impact.” She sighed. “I’m not trying to be difficult. I’m just wondering, maybe if I hadn’t come along, and Sam was living life as usual, maybe she would’ve been on a different track that didn’t lead . . . here.”
“I don’t believe that.” Cyd had her resolute tone. “You can’t tell
me that your presence in her life was anything but positive. Still, what happened is beyond heartbreaking.”
Scenes from today pierced her again. “Cyd, I’ve got to go.”
“I understand,” her sister said.
“And, Cyd?”
“Yes?”
“Can you pray for Sam’s mother?”
“She was actually already on my heart, but what made you ask?”
“I just figured, if that sweet girl made such an impact in my life in two short months, I can imagine how much her mom must be hurting.”
Stephanie’s phone beeped with another call. She took a glance but didn’t recognize the number.
“Okay, really gotta go now,” she said. “I’d better see who this is.” She clicked over. “This is Stephanie London.”
“Ms. London, this is Officer Fraser. I believe we met briefly at the police station last night.”
“Okay. Yes?”
“Ma’am, we need you to come back down to the station to give a statement.”
“Regarding what?”
“Regarding an alleged crime of sexual assault upon one Samara Johnston.”
C
harley knocked hard on Marcus’s door early Sunday morning. “Come on, Marcus,” she muttered, “you have to be home. Answer.”
She’d knocked twice already, and in the interim, what had been a steady rain was starting to blow in gusts, pelting her even as she stood on the covered porch. The two of them hadn’t yet had a real one-on-one conversation. With yesterday’s tragedy, there was more than enough to keep them occupied, talking past one another. She had no way of knowing where their own relationship stood. But would he leave her out here?
She heard footsteps, and the door opened. Marcus had on long gym shorts and a wrinkled shirt, and looked as if he was trying to get his bearings.
“How long have you been knocking?” he asked.
“A few minutes.”
He took her hand and helped her inside. “Wait a minute.”
He ran upstairs and returned with a towel, handing it to her.
“Thanks.” She dried her face and hair.
“It’s seven in the morning, Charley. What’s going on?”
“Ben was arrested less than an hour ago.”
“What? For what? Something with that video?”
“Well . . .” It was hard to say. “He’s been charged with sexual assault.”
Marcus ran his hands down his face. “They’re saying this was rape, what was in the video?”
“Marcus, I feel terrible. I should’ve seen it.” The thought of it pained her. “I knew there was no good reason for Sam to be at my house late Friday night. But she didn’t look like anything was wrong. She simply asked for a ride home. And I was distracted with the police and my grandpa. So I called Steph to come get her.”
“Where was Ben?” He took the towel from her and threw it on a step.
“Sleeping. Can you believe that? He’d fallen asleep.” She was disgusted by even the little pieces of the story. “I don’t know, Marcus. If I had known, we could’ve dealt with it right then and prevented all the other . . .” She closed her eyes. Yesterday was still so hard.
Marcus led her into the kitchen, and they sat at the table.
“You can’t beat yourself up over this,” he said. “Who reported the crime?”
“I called Steph before I came here. Apparently Sam told her Friday night but swore her to secrecy. Steph even took her to the police station, but Sam wouldn’t talk. But once she . . .” She blew out a sad breath. “Anyway, Stephanie told her mother at the hospital and left it in her hands. Teri called the police.”
Marcus sat back, taking it all in. “How did the arrest go down?”
“No negotiations or calls beforehand this time,” Charley said. “Two officers banged on the door with a warrant for Ben’s arrest. And they confiscated his computer and other equipment.”
“How did your mom react?”
“She broke down, said Ben would never do that, then the next minute berated Ben
for
doing that. I don’t think she’s even grasped everything that’s happened.” Charley sighed. “Really seems like my family is falling apart. And there’s absolutely nothing I can do.”
“You’re a bright light in that family, Charley. They need you, whether they know it or not.”
She looked at him. “I would think you’d counsel me to keep away from them, after what happened to you.”
“Travis spent two weeks preaching about loving those who are hard to love.” He looked intently at her. “That came to me at the hospital when I thought about how upset I was at your grandfather and at Ben—and I only knew about the video—and at the students I see every day in the halls who wrote foul things on Sam’s wall . . .” He stared off for a moment. “I don’t want to love any of them. But they’d have no hope at all without love—God’s love. That’s what you have to keep showing your family.”
“Right. I can’t even look at Ben. Or my grandpa.”
“Charley, when all is said and done, your brother might be going away for a long time. He’ll lose everything he has and probably every friend he has. Do you know what a difference it’ll make if you’re still in his life?”
Charley was quiet for a moment, then looked at him. “What about you? Are we still in each other’s lives?” She paused. “I wasn’t even sure if I should come here this morning.”
“After your brother’s arrest?” he said. “Of course you should’ve.” He paused. “I admit I needed some space after what happened with your grandfather, but we’re still friends. Don’t ever doubt that.”
Still friends . . . Charley suddenly felt like crying. What more could happen this weekend? “Do you feel like our relationship has shifted?”
Marcus was slow to respond. “I don’t see how it could
not
have shifted. I saw in very real terms how complicated life can be simply
by crossing color lines. We’ve been raised in two different worlds. We have different backgrounds, different backdrops when it comes to analyzing a situation. And you know what else I thought about?”
She fought the tear that brimmed on her lid. “What?”
“What if we got married and had a daughter? She’d be biracial, just like Sam. She might feel like an outcast, just like Sam. Can you imagine?” He shook his head. “I finally see what my mom was saying. Life is hard enough without intentionally complicating it.”
Charley stood, nodding. “So we’re over. Just like that.” The tear spilled.
Marcus went to her. “We’re not
over
. I’ll always consider you—”
“A friend. Or wait, sister. Back to the beginning.”
“Charley, that’s not fair,” he said. “I wanted it to work. You know I did. I care for you. Life just caved in on us in a big way.”
Charley walked around him, ready to leave, then turned near the door.
“What happened to walking by faith? What happened to trusting God?” She flicked a tear. “I thought this relationship was going to be all about
Him
. If you ask me, you’re walking by sight.”
Charley walked out, closing the door behind her, relishing the downpour that drenched her. It felt just about right.
S
tephanie decided she was going to Calvary Church this morning—and only because she had an attitude. She didn’t particularly want to go to church at all. Her first plan had been to stay in bed, where she could catch up on sleep she’d missed the past two nights. But instead of sleeping, she was grieving decisions she could have made. Like bringing Sam home with her when they left the Willoughbys’ so she wouldn’t have been alone the next morning. Or calling her earlier on Saturday. Or somehow forcing her to make that police statement.
Having driven herself sick with that, her mind took a different turn—to her anger at Skip Willoughby. He had actually threatened her cousin’s life with a pistol. The same man who’d called a boycott of the joint services. And helmed a family where the likes of Ben Willoughby could flourish . . . and yeah, Charley too, but no need to mellow the mental rant.
Stephanie couldn’t understand how this man had been a Calvary elder for decades. And as she thought about it, she realized that she’d never been to the church, other than to the funeral last year for Todd’s father. What was the atmosphere like? Since Skip had also helmed the church, in a sense, would his influence show?
She didn’t expect him to show up, but she’d be waiting for one person to look at her crosswise for being there—just so she could blame Skip and keep her attitude.
She and Lindell walked into the sanctuary ten minutes early.
“Wow, remember the last time we were here?” Stephanie whispered. “It was packed.”
“Yeah,” Lindell said, “because members of both churches had come to pay their respects to Jim Dillon.”
“There aren’t any ushers to seat people.”
Lindell looked around. “No need.”
True. Most of the pews were only two-thirds full.
Definite second glances came their way as they walked the aisle to a seat. Well, it was a natural response. They were the only black people in the building. She didn’t count second glances as crosswise. Crosswise came with attitude.
Becca saw them from up front and waved them forward.
“Great.” Stephanie spoke under her breath. “Now we’ll really be on display.”
“Weren’t you the one who told Charley
she
needed to sit up front at New Jerusalem, just to make it fun?”
“Whatever.”
They slid into the second pew, directly behind Becca.
“Good morning,” Stephanie and Lindell said.
Claire turned fully around with a grin. “What are y’all doing here?”
“Joining
you
, Miss Claire.” Stephanie touched her nose.
Ethan stood in the pew and reached for Stephanie to pull him back there.
“Sit down, buddy,” Becca said, helping him. “You two didn’t tell us you were coming.” She sat sideways, arm draped over the back of the pew.
“It was last-minute,” Stephanie said. “Full disclosure—I came
to check it out in light of everything I’m learning about Mr. Skip Willoughby. The bonus is I get to hear Todd.”
Becca gave a knowing look. “I hope Todd’s fingerprints are the ones you see here.”