Fifteen Years (24 page)

“Come on, JT.” Craig’s voice broke the silence again. “Talk to me, man. What’s up?” He sounded more than a little concerned.

“Can you just drop it, Craig? Please?” Josiah knew in advance that his petition would fall on deaf ears.

“Would you drop it if it were me?” Craig didn’t wait for a reply “What do you need? Did something go down with your foster parents? Is that why you left the house early? Did something go wrong? You need me to talk to somebody? You need me to pray with you?”

“I think I need to come on back home.” Josiah’s thoughts became audible.

“What? Why? JT, talk to me, man,” Craig said for a second time.

“I kissed her.”

“You what? Kissed who?”

“Peaches.” Josiah whispered it like admitting it aloud would get him sentenced to life in prison. “I kissed Peaches in the park
yesterday.” Instead of the words leaving a bitter taste on his palate, they bought back fond reminiscences. Josiah rubbed his forehead, trying to erase the memories, but they were seared in his mind. The brightness of Patrice’s smile, the flow of her hair, the feel of her lips … “God, help me,” he mumbled.

Craig released a long breath that sounded like cell phone feedback to Josiah’s ears. Then he said, “Okay, JT, I can imagine that you’re really freaked out about this, but when you think about it, what’s the big deal?”

Josiah sat up straight, and deep lines creased his forehead. “What do you mean, what’s the big deal? The big deal is that I kissed Peaches. I made out with my sister, man. The deal don’t get much bigger than that.”

“JT, think about what you’re saying.”

“I
am.”

“No you’re not. Peaches … I mean, Patrice is not your sister. Not in the real sense of the word.”

“She’s my foster sister. It’s the same thing.”

“That’s not true, and you know it. So you gave her a little kiss. It’s not the end of the world.”

Josiah licked his lips. He could almost still taste hers. “It wasn’t exactly a little kiss.”

Craig paused before asking, “Are we talking serious lip action here?”

“Yes.”

He hesitated longer this time. “Open mouth?”

Josiah licked his lips again. The memories were pleasantly vivid. “Yes.”

Craig was quiet for so long this time that Josiah began to think the call had dropped. His voice was merely a whisper when he ultimately asked, “Lying down?”

Josiah jolted into a standing position. “What kind of a question isthat?”

“One that only requires a yes or no answer,” Craig said.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Yes or no, JT.” Craig sounded like he was about ready to get hysterical. “You haven’t answered the question. Yes or no?”

“No, okay?” Josiah’s tone had climbed two octaves. “Of course we weren’t lying down! I can’t even believe you shaped your lips to ask me something like that.”

“Well, with the way you’re acting, I don’t know what to think. All I know is if I ain’t getting none, you better not be getting any either. Five years ago, we renewed a vow to ourselves and to God to honor our bodies as a temple of His Holy Spirit. To preserve ourselves until marriage.”

“I know that, Craig.”

“Well, I was just checking. We agreed to hold each other accountable, and you’re acting like you did something wrong so—”

“I did do something wrong, Craig. She’s—”

“…
not
your sister.” Craig barged in to finish the sentence. “If you can ever get it through your thick skull that this girl is in no way related to you—by blood or otherwise—you’ll see that what happened was okay. You’re two consenting,
nonrelated
adults. If she was okay with what happened, you should be too.”

It was at that moment that Josiah realized what was really causing his torment. It wasn’t the simple fact that he’d thrown caution to the wind and allowed his repressed attractions to Patrice to surface. The bigger distress was triggered by the sheer horror in her eyes when she broke away from a kiss that he’d initiated with his bold advances. Bold advances that had been made toward a woman who was vulnerable and whose guards were down as she told the story of being heartbroken by a man who’d promised to love and
cherish her, but had instead exposed her to suffering and abuse of the worst kind.

Patrice hadn’t been okay with any of what happened at Stone Mountain Park. Josiah reached up and touched his face. The savoring of their kiss had now been replaced with the remembrance of the sting of Patrice’s hand against his cheek.

“JT, are you listening to me?” Craig asked.

The last thing Josiah heard was the indication that what had transpired at the park was of mutual consent. Whatever else that Craig may have said had been gibberish to his ears. Josiah needed to talk to someone other than Craig. He needed counsel from someone older and wiser, and that person definitely couldn’t be his foster dad. Josiah thought long and hard. This would have been a good conversation to have with Dr. Charles Loather, the man who had been the pastor of Kingdom Builders Christian Center when Josiah was a child. But Thomas had informed him that the respected preacher had died some years ago. His son, the man who now stood in his stead, was barely older than Josiah. Pastor Charles Loather Jr. was a great preacher, but he didn’t have enough grey in his hair for Josiah to trust him with this one.

“JT,” Craig called again. “I know you hear me, man. Don’t be trying to ignore a brotha.”

“I’m not ignoring you,” Josiah assured him. “I was just thinking. I’m sorry.”

“Thinking about what?”

Josiah’s bladder had held on to its water long enough. “I have to go, but I need you to do a favor for me.”

“Name it.” Craig sounded eager to help.

“Ask Danielle to contact Bishop Lumpkin and see if she can convince him to call me. I need to talk to him.”

PATRICE WAS standing over the dishwasher carefully stacking the dishes that were soiled from dinner when she heard small footsteps approaching. Without looking around, she knew who had come into the kitchen to pay her yet another visit.

“Mama, can we go see Uncle JT
now?”
It was the third time that Arielle had asked that same question since they arrived at her grandparents’ home three hours ago. Answering the same question every hour on the hour was becoming frustrating.

The moment Patrice took to set another plate in one of the dishwasher’s vacant slots was also a moment used to give her rattled nerves a chance to calm before she responded. As distant as Arielle had been when she first met Josiah on Sunday, she was absolutely crazy about him now. He had used his natural charm to win her over that evening, and she went from barely looking at Josiah to asking him to do the honors of reading her a bedtime story before
she turned in for the night. Josiah had obliged, and Patrice had stood in the doorway of the bedroom and watched his entertaining animation as he read Dr. Seuss’s
Green Eggs and Ham.

“Arielle, I told you that Grandma said Uncle JT had already been over here before we arrived. He had to go back to the hotel to get some work done. I’m sure that he’s not coming back over here tonight.”

“But why?” Arielle was coming close to whining. “It’s not that late.”

Because he doesn’t want to see me.
Patrice shifted her feet and her thoughts. “Because he’s working, sweetie.”

“Well, can we go and see him then? We’re not working.”

Patrice spun around with the full intention of spewing a few cross words at her persistent daughter, but when she saw the innocence in her earnest eyes, Patrice couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead she dried her hands on the dish towel, scooped up her four-year-old in her arms, and kissed her cheek. What was she going to scold her for? Missing Josiah? How dare she reprimand Arielle for longing to be in the presence of the same man that her heart ached for?

“I’m sure you’ll get to see Uncle JT again before he leaves to go back home, honey.”

“Tomorrow?”

She was relentless. Patrice sighed. It was a characteristic that Arielle had gotten honestly from her father. Thank God it was about the only trait she’d inherited from that monster. “I don’t know about tomorrow. We don’t usually come over here for dinner on Wednesdays.”

“Well then, we could invite Uncle JT to our house for dinner. He could eat with us instead of eating with Grandma and Grand-daddy Then I can show him my Barbie and her dollhouse, all my hair bows, and my new green cup with the turtle on the side. And
he could have tea with me and my teddy bears.”

Patrice’s eyes misted. Apparently Josiah, in just a couple of days, had managed to completely steal both their hearts. “Arielle, I—”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea, princess.”

Patrice turned just in time to see Thomas walk into the kitchen. She wondered how long he’d been within earshot of their conversation.

“I think your Uncle JT would love to see the dollhouse that I bought you for Christmas. You should call him and invite him over, princess.”

Happy to have her grandfather on her side, Arielle reached for him as he neared. When she was released into his embrace, she wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed hard. “Me too, Granddaddy,” she sang. Then her smile turned into a screaming giggle as he gave her several twirls that appeared to leave both of them a bit woozy.

“Come on, Daddy,” Patrice said. “JT is a grown man. He doesn’t want to see any dollhouses.”

Thomas’s crow’s feet deepened. His eyes appeared to be laughing at her without the accompaniment of his lips. “Grandma is in the bedroom putting rollers in her hair,” he told Arielle as he carefully placed her on the floor. “I don’t think she’s doing it right. You’re a much better beautician than she is. Why don’t you go and see if you can help her out.”

The embellished compliment lit up the child’s face. Playing in other people’s hair was her favorite pastime. “Okay,” she said just before darting out of the kitchen determined to carry out the orders of her newest mission.

Patrice returned to her task of loading the dishwasher, but she could feel the heat of Thomas’s eyes boring into her back. If she
were a genie she would have blinked him away because she knew that was the only way he was going to just leave. He hadn’t purposefully gotten rid of Arielle for nothing. Patrice’s whole life, her dad had been the discerning one who could always tell when something was going on with her that she wanted to avoid discussing. She couldn’t help but wonder if his fatherly instincts had detected her most recent dilemma.

“Why don’t you take a break and come sit with me for a minute, sweetheart?” It sounded like a multiple choice question, but Patrice knew that it wasn’t.

She dried her hands again. Slower this time, praying that her inner battle hadn’t been transparent. She would die if Thomas asked her if anything un-sibling-like was going on between her and Josiah. She would just die.

“So what’s going on with you and JT?”

She shouldn’t have been surprised when he cut to the chase. It was Thomas’s signature way.

She played dumb in hopes that it would buy her some time. “What do you mean?” She squirmed in her chair and looked at a small chip in the wood at the edge of their dining room table.

Thomas placed his elbows on the wood surface and intertwined the fingers of his left hand with the ones of his right. His connected hands became a prop on which to rest his chin. “You know you can still talk to me about anything, right?”

Not about this.
Patrice looked away into the distance. “About what, Daddy?” Her innocent act was a bust. It didn’t even sound convincing to her own ears.

“Talk to me, Peaches.”

She looked at him for the first time in awhile. Thomas hadn’t called her Peaches since she graduated high school. It was at that time that he and Joanne had determined that she was too old for the
nickname that Josiah had given her six years earlier. Hearing it from him made her feel like the little girl who used to sit on his lap. The girl he used to twirl the same way he’d just done Arielle. Sometimes Thomas would spin Patrice around until they both were staggering around like two town drunks. But those lighthearted memories weren’t enough to get her to open up. This was a subject matter that was just too embarrassing. Discussing it with Danielle had been easier because it was a telephone conversation. Patrice didn’t have to look in her face and chance seeing total disgust.

“Well, how about you listen and I talk,” Thomas suggested when her silence lingered.

Patrice batted her eyelashes to try and hold back the rising pool. She knew that it would only be a matter of time before her tears won. They always did.

“When JT was here earlier today, your mother and I tried to convince him to stay for dinner. His claim that he had employment obligations worked with your mom, but it didn’t work with me. I played along, but I knew that there was something more. You wanna know how I knew?”

Patrice crossed her legs, uncrossed them, then crossed them again. She was afraid to ask him how he’d known, but that didn’t stop Thomas from answering the question anyway.

“The closer it got to school dismissal, the more frazzled he became. Watching the clock, looking at the watch on his wrist, pacing the floor, zoning in and out. And when Joanne mentioned that you were coming to dinner, he took out of here like a fugitive ducking from the law.” Thomas placed one hand on top of hers. “What’s going on, sweetheart?”