Made Of Honor Part 20

Believe it. "Have fun." Refusing the urge to slam the gla.s.s door, I slid it shut instead and sniffed my freshly done braids for smoke, while running for the air freshener. When Roch.e.l.le emerged from the kitchen choking, I figured the deed was done.

"What's with the death by Lysol?"

I nodded to the stoop. "Smoking. Naomi."

Even Ch.e.l.le looked shocked. "Naomi? Here?" She stared at the gla.s.s door. "Wow. That's two in a row. Tracey's really got pull."

She got you here, didn't she?

"I've got pull, huh?"

We both spun to find Tracey behind us in a pink maternity dress. The light bounced off the b.u.t.terfly clips in her newly cropped afro.

"Tracey!" Ch.e.l.le and I cried in unison, racing to her side. For someone who was considering leaving their husband and upset about her pregnancy, she sure looked good to me. As we hugged her, my stomach lurched, looking at all the decorations.

"Oh, no! The surprise!"

Roch.e.l.le threw a hand across her mouth and let Tracey go. "You weren't supposed to get here until-how did you-"

"The door was open and Naomi's Saab was parked outside."

I took a deep breath. "Well, surprise anyway. Welcome to your baby shower. Have a seat."

Tracey shook her head. "I'm tired of having a seat. I came to work. Why do you think I'm early?"

Both my hands flew up. "So you knew?"

"Of course." Tracey grabbed a bag of mints and filled the last empty candy dish. "You were acting too fishy, girl. I know when y'all up to something. And I've been up to so much nothing, I couldn't stay away."

Roch.e.l.le shook her head and walked into the kitchen. "You can't even surprise folks these days."

Too happy to see Tracey to lament the ruined surprise, I took her hand and walked towards the front door to close it. Man, how I'd missed her. Seeing her made me realize how much. "Maybe we can't surprise you, but we're going to feed you good. Your hair is too cute."

She giggled a little and then drew a quick breath.

"What is it? Are you in pain? Should I call the doctor?"

Tracey didn't answer, but stared at the door instead.

My eyes followed hers. I dropped Tracey's hand. Not only should I have shut the door, but locked it, too. Dahlia stood in the hall, her coat open to reveal a celery-green minidress with matching pumps, one of which she rocked onto its side. In her hands was a small bag. A Kick! bag.

Adrian and his big mouth.

My sister's eyes darted back and forth between us. "I know I wasn't invited exactly, but I hadn't seen Tracey in a while-"

I shrugged. "It's okay. Come in."

Sierra emerged from behind her, toddled up to Tracey, put her face up to Tracey's belly and sniffed. "Smells like a gurrrl." With that, she made for the candy dish as though belly sniffing were an acceptable profession. Her mother followed.

We all stared behind them. I shut the door and flipped the lock. I wasn't sure who would walk in next, but I wasn't taking any chances. Tracey stared wide-eyed at nothing in particular, then took a deep breath.

"Forget what I said earlier," she said, turning again to look at my sister and niece, whose exact age I'd neglected to mention in all our conversations. "Color me surprised."

"So the pastor is really changing things, huh?" Tracey popped the last shrimp puff into her mouth and pushed aside the tower of gifts left by the throng of well-wishers who'd filed through my living room. Not many had time to stay, but everyone brought a present, a smile and plenty of well wishes. Even Renee, who'd graced the occasion with a limited edition porcelain doll from Fingerhut. Naomi? Well, she'd eventually come off the stoop where she'd spent most of the time sulking to give a beautiful card and a wad of cash. "Baby shopping just isn't my thing. But if it's a girl, call me when she's five. I'll buy her the world."

Too bad Naomi couldn't afford just a little kindness instead. Not that money wasn't nice. It was just easy for her to give. One day, she and I would have to sit down and talk about such things, since I had nothing left to lose with her. That someday, however, wouldn't be today. Today, it was just Roch.e.l.le, Tracey, me and-surprisingly enough-Dahlia and Sierra, who was curled up like a cat at the end of the couch with a fuzzy baby rattle one of the ladies from church had brought.

Roch.e.l.le answered first. "Yeah. Pastor is really shaking things up. Just what we'd always prayed for."

"Then why do you sound so sad about it?" It was Dahlia's voice. We all turned, stunned. Sure she was here, but we'd neither wanted nor expected any response from her. Well, let me correct that-I hadn't expected her to say anything. Tracey looked delighted. hadn't expected her to say anything. Tracey looked delighted.

"I was just thinking that myself, Dahlia," Tracey said, taking a sip of orange sherbet punch. Another of Daddy's recipes. "This stuff is so good."

At least something had turned out right. I sighed. Usually I added too much ice cream or not enough Sprite. This time it was just right and with a splash of guava juice. Good stuff. Better than the direction of this conversation to be sure.

"It's not that we're not happy about it, Dahlia. It's just that there's a lot going on now, you know? When we were really pressing in and praying for Pastor to hit things harder, we thought we had it going on. Thought that we were spiritual."

Tracey snorted. "I know that's right. I look back at my devotionals from last year and wonder who that was. I thought I was soo-oo holy. And look at me now."

I tried to cut her moaning off at the pa.s.s. It wasn't info I wanted to arm Dahlia with. "What do you mean look at you now?" I took her plate and cup and headed for the trash. "You're married, pregnant and serving G.o.d. Sure things aren't perfect, but you're hanging in there. You made it to the altar. That was the hard thing." I dropped the cute pansy plate into the trash and headed back to the couch.

A tear streamed down Tracey's face.

Oh, yeah. Definitely the hormones.

"That's just it, Dane. I didn't make it to the altar. And now I'm paying for it."

My eyes crinkled like they had when Naomi was smoking earlier. "Of course you made it. I was there."

Dahlia cleared her throat. "That's not what she means, Dana. Get a clue."

I got a clue. Quick. So that was the weird vibe I'd had about the whole Ryan thing. "So you lied to us the whole time?"

Roch.e.l.le hung her head. Tracey looked away.

Dahlia grabbed a handful of peanuts. "Sounds like she didn't lie to everybody. Just you."

I thought that was your job.

Tension knotted in my shoulders. "So you, too, Tracey? Looks like everybody here thinks I'm just someone to be lied to and played like a fool. Is there anything else I should know?"

Though it was a rhetorical question, I knew as soon as I'd asked it that it was a mistake. Concern clouded all their faces, especially Dahlia's. Anything the others had to say worried me, but another confession from her in this lifetime might just do me in.

Dahlia rubbed her cheek until her palm was covered in foundation. "I understand what Tracey said about doing things wrong and then maybe having bad things happen because of it." She bit a nail. "I mean, I've done a lot of things that I'm not proud of now, most of them to you, Dana. I know you don't think so, but I do believe in G.o.d. This is just all new to me, you know? I didn't really get it before."

I rolled my head in a circle. "That's okay," I said in a low voice. "I still don't get it sometimes myself. I just take it day by day."

"Yeah," Tracey said.

"It's all you can do." Roch.e.l.le poured herself some punch.

Dahlia nodded. "Still. I've done some pretty messed up stuff. Some of it, though, I didn't mean to happen. I mean the thing with Trevor-"

"Let's not go there." Roch.e.l.le's words trembled a little. She was probably remembering the lunatic I was for a while after the whole situation. Even after I was saved.

"It's okay, Ch.e.l.le. Let her talk." For some reason, Dahlia's words didn't seem to bother me as much as what Tracey had said. I'd expected more from her. Dahlia had always hurt me. Well, maybe not always, but for a long time. I was getting used to it.

"Anyway, Trevor paid me back. No matter what I do, he still seems to want you-"

"Dahlia." I cringed, remembering her haunted look as she'd run from the church.

Another sniff. "We've got Sierra. She needs us. We'll work it out. He knows that you love Adrian anyway-"

Roch.e.l.le choked on her punch.

"It's not like that exactly," I whispered. My heart wrenched, refusing to acknowledge the admission in my tone. A baby shower. That was all this was supposed to be. Cake. Punch. Gifts. Fun. This was not fun.

Brown mascara blurred into the creases of Dahlia's eyes. "That's the thing I'm most sorry for. The thing I never meant to happen..." Her voice faded.

The room spun a little as words marched past my lips against my commands. "What thing? thing?"

She gave me a puzzled look. "The thing with Adrian. He never told you?"

"You don't look so good."

I smiled at Austin. I didn't feel so good, either.

"Rough weekend?" She stabbed at her salad.

Rough didn't begin to describe it. "Nothing a few pounds of chocolate couldn't cure."

She giggled. "A few pounds? pounds? Oh, man. That must have been a doozy. Well, I'm glad you came to our lunch date anyway. Did you have girlfriends to console you?" Oh, man. That must have been a doozy. Well, I'm glad you came to our lunch date anyway. Did you have girlfriends to console you?"

"You know it." I took a sip of water.

"Feel better?"

I shook my head.

"Will Dove bars help or is that overkill?"

Not for this. "I'm not turning down anything, but I don't want to get sick on you."

She flashed me her TV smile. "Right. No need to overdo." She maneuvered the fork again, bringing me face to face with her rock of a wedding ring once again. Talk about overdone. What archeological dig had unearthed that thing?

I knew she wanted to talk about my sister's untimely revelation, but as much as I liked her, we weren't that close. In truth, if Tracey and Roch.e.l.le hadn't been there to hear it, I don't know if I'd have told them. But they'd been there. I didn't want to speculate anymore or try to figure out the gory details. It was over. He'd ripped my heart out, roots and all. "Enough about me, Austin. How's married life treating you?"

She shrugged. "I can't complain. There's a lot to work out. Joshua has lived a sheltered, loving life. I haven't. Sometimes it's hard for me to understand how much family means to him and it's hard for him to understand how much my work means to me. But we both love the Lord. We'll work it out."

My eyes crinkled again. "The Lord? I thought he was Jewish?"

A ribbon of romaine hung out of Austin's mouth. She sucked it in like spaghetti. "Yes, the Lord. Yeshua. Josh is Jewish in heritage, but he's Christian by faith. Messianic. Haven't you heard of it?"

"Sort of." Like that Nehemiah thing Adrian went to. I'd surfed the Internet to learn more about it a few times when I couldn't sleep, but I'd delete those bookmarks now. I'd never be going anywhere near him again.

Austin munched on, oblivious. "Oh, yeah. It's a big thing. Jews for Jesus and all that. Wonderful services. A friend from work invited me. It blew me away."

"Sounds amazing. Did you meet Josh at the single's group there?" Duh. Did they even have such things?

Austin smiled. "Hardly. I didn't even give him a second glance. I was so into Jesus I didn't pay much attention to anyone else. His mother was paying attention though..."

"His mother? She hooked you guys up?"

"Oh, yeah. She's a little lady, but she knows what she wants. She irons her sheets. Powders her bathroom with lavender. She cracks me up."

I dropped my fork. "I think I've met her. She's a customer."

Austin threw back her head and laughed. "Figures. She doesn't talk much, but she knows everything. I thought that stuff had to be yours." She cupped her chin in her hands. "We're having Pa.s.sover with them this weekend. Christian ceremony. Want to come and surprise her?"

I chewed my bland chicken, wishing we'd gone out like I'd suggested, that I'd ordered the ribs I really wanted right now. "Sure. Why not?" At this point, the thought of surprising anyone but myself sounded pretty good.

They called him by another name, but I recognized Him immediately.

Yeshua.

Emmanuel.

Jesus.

G.o.d.

In a dimly lit parlor scented with lamb, rosemary and honeyed apples, somewhere between the bitter herbs and the matzo ball soup, Jesus became alive to me again.

Though I'd taken many communions, read all the Gospels, sang all the songs, it wasn't until I sat around the table with a bunch of strangers that I realized that my life was not about me paying the price for my past or even making some holy tangle of rules and rituals, but rather an offering, much the same as the one made for me, however woefully inadequate it seemed.

As I envisioned the blood on the doorpost of those Hebrew slaves and the haste and hope with which they ate this meal, my anger, confusion and pain at recent events melted away, swirled into a burst of color and then ran together in one red line across my mind.