Boaz Brown (42 page)

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Authors: Michelle Stimpson

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“I don’t understand.” I shook my head, shaking up some of the last remaining doubts in my head. “We’re always gonna be black, Jonathan.”

“Who are you, aside from being a black woman? What is your character? In your life, in your identity, what takes precedence over the color of your skin?” he asked me, looking sincerely into my eyes.

“My relationship with God,” I said quickly.

“Exactly. And if your duty, as a child of God on this planet, is to love everyone, then you must do so regardless of what color you are. Your first allegiance is to God. You can be black and be proud of your heritage all day. But you can’t love God and hold these grudges against white people at the same time. That’s contrary to His Word.”

“It’s not so much a grudge as it is a. . . a resentment. I can’t help feeling that they have an obligation to us, you know? They mistreated us; they snuffed out nearly every ounce of our identities and then promised us things that never came to pass. Deep down inside, it still hurts to be black in America.”

“I feel you, Shondra, but everything that I am is because He lives in me. I am proud of my natural heritage. Our ancestors did a lot with a little, and the strength of their character inspires me, makes me want to celebrate what we as African-Americans have overcome. But I cherish my spiritual heritage even more because
that’s
where I’m free.”

My heart received that. “And you told Daddy all of this?”

“No, he wasn’t trying to hear all that. But I realized then, Daddy hadn’t been right about everything. I know he loves me and he’s only acting out of fear. But if the hate he has for white people is strong enough to surpass the love he has for his children, something is way out of line. I’ve been praying for Daddy ever since, and I think this relationship between you and Stelson might be the answer to those prayers.”

“Okay, do you think maybe you could let me know the next time before you start praying for a change in our family?” I slapped him on the back of his neck. “You’ve prayed up a big mess for me.”

“But it’s a good mess, right?”

I stopped trying to hide the smile. “Yeah, it’s a good mess, when I think about it.” He left me alone to call Stelson.

“Hey, LaShondra. I’m so glad you called.”

“Congratulations on the deal! I’m so happy for you.”

“Oh, it was great. God was so good to us in Chicago. It was uncanny. Cooper and I sold it, no problem. . . Can I see you tonight?” His voice was filled with anticipation.

“Well, I guess so. But I’m not up to doing too much. I’ve had a pretty draining day,” I told him. Truth was: I would have gone anywhere with Stelson if he’d asked.

“Pizza? A movie maybe?” he suggested.

“Well, actually, my brother is here. We could do pizza and a movie here if that’s okay with you. I’m sure Jonathan won’t mind hanging out with us, and I’d love for you two to meet.”

We watched
Cooley High
and
Stir Crazy,
rewinding the funny parts and saying every line we knew out loud. Stelson sat at the foot of the chaise, and I propped myself up on the pillows at the head. Jonathan sat on the sofa, and we all took turns lifting pizza and drinks from the end tables.

Between movies, we got into a conversation about ages, and Jonathan exposed that I had recently turned thirty- one. “You’re not supposed to tell a woman’s age.” I pinched his arm.

“Oh . . .” Jonathan winked at me. “Sorry, sis. Don’t worry, you’re still young.”

“When was your birthday?” Stelson asked.

“Several
months ago.”

“Oh.” Stelson smiled. “Happy belated birthday.”

“Thank you.”

Around midnight, Jonathan said he was ready to hit the sack. Stelson and I took him back to my parents’ house. Jonathan hugged Stelson and told him he liked knowing that his sister was in good company. “Take care of her, now,” Jonathan charged Stelson.

“Will do,” Stelson agreed in all sincerity.

Like I’m some kind of child.
When Stelson got back into the car, I asked him, “What was all that ‘take care of her’ stuff about?”

“It’s a man-of-God thing,” he assured me.

Stelson and I returned to my house and claimed our places on the big country porch’s swing. After such an emotional day, it was nice to come out and take in fresh air.

In good company.

“Thanks for the pizza and the movies. I didn’t think I’d ever find somebody who loved those old school movies like I do,” I shared with him.

“I didn’t, either.” He looked into my eyes. Then he leaned toward me, cupping my chin in his hand. Gently. His soft lips pressed against mine once . . . twice . . . and again. My eyes were closed, and I didn’t want to open them. I just wanted Stelson to keep on kissing me over and over again.

The heat of that moment hit me like two tons of bricks, and I wanted to go back in my house and get it
on.
We’d kissed before, but never like this. Every nerve in my body stood at attention. His hand slipped down my face to my neck. I knew where he wanted it to go. For that matter, I knew where I wanted it to go. I wanted more of him. More of his touch and his kisses. Stelson was absolutely, completely intoxicating.

I pulled back from him just a bit. Our eyelashes tickled each other. His breathing was faster than mine. I opened my eyes and backed up a little more. Stelson looked at me, still holding my chin. We looked at each other for a moment more. Then a smile appeared on his face. I didn’t see anything funny, but I reciprocated.

“You’ve got to stop doing that to me, you know.”

“Me! You started it!”

“Let me finish it, then.” He kissed me again, less intensely this time. We laughed through it, stealing our last pecks at each other before leaning back into the swing.

“You’re somethin’ else, Stelson.” I laid my arm across his chest.

“You, too, LaShondra.”

He kissed me again. “Good night.”

“You’re leaving already?”

“I’m leaving while I still can.” He smiled wearily. “I’ll see you later, love.”

Awww. He called me love.
“Good night.” I hugged him and sent him on his way.

I raced back into the house to call Peaches, feeling like a teenager in love.

“Peaches!” I yelled to her.

“What?” she answered in a groggy voice. “What time is it?”

“It’s after midnight, but I need to talk to you.”

“Girl, we ain’t on college time! We are grown. We need to start these heart-to-hearts before the news comes on,” she fussed.

“Stelson called me ‘love’ tonight.”

“Girl, you are in there,” she yawned.

“You think so?”

“People don’t just call people ‘love,’ LaShondra. A man can have about fifty girlfriends, but he’s only got one ‘love’ in his heart. I believe it was Houdini that said it best: ‘One love, one love, you’re lucky just to have.. .“

“Peaches! I am serious.”

She laughed. “I hear you, girl. But seriously, ‘love’ is right up there with ‘baby.’ He’s one step away from telling you he loves you, girl. I’m tellin’ you.”

“Oh, Peaches, I love him. I really do.” It popped out of me. “Not because he’s perfect or fine or any of that. Stelson is. . . he’s just got the love of God in him, and it overflows. It spills over into everything he does and everything he touches.”

“Touches? Okay, have we left out a few details here?”

“Naw I ain’t left out no details.”

“Just wanted to make sure.”

“It’s just that he’s so perfect,” I told her.

“And the problem is.. . ?“

“I’m just saying, he’s the type of man every woman says she wants but runs away from when he actually comes into her life. I almost pushed him out, you know? I almost thought he was too good for me.”

“The devil
is
a lie. There’s nobody who’s too good for you, LaShondra. Period.”

“Hmm. So I guess you’re not still trippin’ about Stelson being white, huh?”

“I’m coming around,” she said. “It’s not what I’d choose for myself, but your life is your life. As long as he treats you right, you go, girl. You’ve got my blessing. It might take me a while, but I will get over it. Besides, you’ve never listened to me before. Why start now? Just keep praying for me, Shon. You know I can be a little throwed-off sometimes.”

“Right, right,” I agreed with her.

“Whatever! And don’t call me no more after midnight ‘less you got a ring on your finger or you’re about to deliver,” she laughed. “I’m talking about some carats or some contractions five minutes apart, okay? Girl, I am too sleepy!”

“Thanks, Peaches.”

“Anything for you, ‘love’!” she shouted.

“I’m getting off this phone with you.”

“You go, girl. Bye.”

“Bye.”

As I lay in bed that night thinking about life, my mind drifted to Grandmomma Smith. I know that as a child I feared her. But as an adult, and knowing what I knew then about what happened with my father, I respected her more. She had loved my father through all that, as only a mother could. Maybe that’s why Daddy held her so near to his heart. Maybe that’s why she was so tough on all of us. She wanted us to do what Daddy hadn’t done. I flipped my pillow over to escape the cool wetness of my pools of tears.

 

 

Chapter 21

 

I’d curled, modeled, and primped in front of the mirror for two hours. I needed the perfect outfit, the perfect hairstyle, and perfect makeup to create the perfect ambience for my debut on the campus of Jarvis Christian College. But after the two-hour ride and several sweltering treks up and down two flights of stairs to my dorm room, I looked like broke-down Shondra, minus one penciled-in eyebrow.

Daddy sat down on the slab of hardened cotton that I would soon call my bed. He wiped his forehead and announced, “Whew, Shondra, you need to hurry up and put that egg crate on this bed.”

“I will, Daddy. As soon as you all leave,” I hinted. I loved my family, but I was ready for them to leave so that I could be freeeeee! I’d waited eighteen years and trudged through twelve years of school in anticipation of this great day.

“Well, I see we’ve worn out our welcome,” Momma said, looking at Jonathan and Daddy. She sat at the desk where I would spend countless hours in years to come, writing, reading, thinking, growing. “You got all your paperwork?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You got the calling card I gave you?”

“Yes, sir.” I stood leaning against my door, the tip of one tennis shoe resting on the other. “Well, I guess that’s everything.”

We were all waiting for Momma to break down, but she didn’t. She wiped her chest with one of my newly purchased towels and said, “Well I guess that’s it, then. Come give us a hug.”

My family formed a receiving line. Jonathan hugged me first and expressed how happy he was to begetting the television all to himself at home. Momma wrestled with the flood that raged behind her eyelids. “You remember your upbringing, hear? Don’t get down here actin’ like you ain’t got no home training. You keep your head in the books and your eyes on the Lord, you hear?”

“Yes, Momma. I will.”

She and Jonathan left the room. Daddy put his arm across my shoulder and stood at my side. I wanted to see his face, but he’d arranged us otherwise. “Well.” He kicked at the nothing on the ground, and I witnessed a single drop fall onto the floor. I would never know if it was sweat or a tear. “This is it, LaShondra.”

“Sure is, Daddy.”

“You just remember, a lot of black folks bled and died so you could have this chance. You’re here on the shoulders of your peoples.”

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