Guilty of Love (42 page)

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Authors: Pat Simmons

Tags: #inspirational romance, #christian romance, #family relationships, #africanamerican romance, #love romance, #foster parenting, #abortion and guilt feelings, #guilt and shame, #genealogy research, #happiness at last

BOOK: Guilty of Love
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Like a child’s game, people popped up,
shouting across the church as if lightning zapped them. The
Spirit’s movement was slow and deliberate as it stirred closer to
Hallison. She trembled as her arms flew in the air involuntarily.
She barely escaped Mrs. Beacon’s cane when the woman bolted from
her seat and spun around without provocation. She knew what was
going on even if her eyes were closed. God was in the
midst.

With the haste of a dollar sale,
worshippers rushed the aisle heading toward the altar. Before
Hallison could blink she was one of them. Tears washed the make-up
from her face. The hat she wore was missing and her neat clothes
were twisted. Her spiritually-deprived soul took control. Playtime
was over. When a minister laid hands on Hallison’s head to pray for
her, the unclean spirits seemed to leap from her. Afterwards, two
women led her to a room off the sanctuary, which she suspected was
the tarry or prayer room solely to worship and praise God until He
spoke through them in unknown tongues.

In the distance, Hallison recognized
the rapid speech of unfamiliar tongues. Fluttering her eyes open,
she was shocked to see Mrs. Beacon with her arms lifted in the air
and her mouth moving nonstop for more than twenty minutes. When
Hallison was able to return to some semblance of control, she
couldn’t believe the two most unlikely individuals, the church
militants were in the prayer room and filled with the Holy Ghost.
Where was Malcolm?

Sometime later, she and Mrs. Beacon
returned to the sanctuary that was nearly empty after the
benediction. The woman gripped her arm.


That was exhilarating and
unbelievable. It’s real. The Holy Ghost is real, chile. It got a
hold of me. I never heard myself speak in another language. Well, I
guess I might have to come back. God and I will have to do some
negotiations about revealing my husband’s killer,” Mrs. Beacon
said, fanning her face with a Kleenex. “I told God I was sorry, but
I’m sure God and I will work out our differences.”

 

Chapter Thirty-three

 

 

After three weeks, Parke could
honestly say his outlook on life was changing. Both he and Cheney
had a noticeable peace. He knew why folks liked to be at church
every time the doors opened, Parke couldn’t get enough of learning
about the Holy Ghost. He could add Bible history to his interests
although each class generated more questions than he had
answers.

Humming, he slid across his kitchen
floor, preparing dinner for Cheney. His mother had given him a
recipe for stuffed Cornish hens. He added roasted vegetables, brown
rice and Ambrosia salad to the menu.

After shoving a dozen rolls into the
oven, he hurried upstairs to shower and dress. When Parke was
ready, he phoned Cheney for the third time. “Hi, baby, just
reminding you dinner will be served in twenty minutes. Grandma BB
is watching Kami, right?”


If you’d stop calling me,
maybe I could get ready. Yes, Grandma is watching her. Who else
would the little terror let keep her?”

Parke agreed and disconnected. Since
receiving the Holy Ghost, he struggled at times with temptation,
but God’s Word said He was able to deliver him. He bridled his
tongue only to have pride escape in some situations. He requested
strength for sanctification when he wanted to rip Cheney’s clothes
off and make love to her. The pastor continually instructed that
the road wasn’t smooth, but to stay the course and pack for the
journey with prayer and fasting.

Family services still hadn’t located
the boy named Parke, but he had faith in God the child would be
found. For some unexplainable reason, he knew that was his child
still he needed proof. Thank God for administrative bureaucracy
that gave him and Cheney a little more time with Kami.

Ben Tankard’s saxophone filled the
house as his doorbell rang a half hour later. A single red rose
tickled his nose as he opened the door. Accepting the flower, he
reached for Cheney’s hand, and tugged her inside. “Praise the Lord.
Thank you,” he whispered.

Parke perused Cheney’s appearance, a
dainty lilac-colored dress that flowed when she walked. “I like it
when you dress up for me.” His voice filled with emotion. They
indulged themselves in a strong embrace and a weak brush of their
lips. “And I can’t do a thing about it. This modesty is killing
me.” Throwing caution to the wind, Parke pulled Cheney back into
his arms and enjoyed a passionate kiss. “Ah, that’s
better.”

She lovingly stroked his cheek. “I
don’t know. I kinda like holding back. At least I know you’re not
after my body.”


Who says?” Parke wasn’t
teasing.


Stop it.” Cheney sucked in
her breath when he guided her to his dining room where candles
burned in brass wall sconces. The table was set for two with china,
silverware, and sparkling crystal stemware. He cracked his French
doors to enjoy a cool night breeze. “This is so beautiful,
everything.”

He led her to the chair. “I hope you
say the same thing about dinner.”


It doesn’t matter. It’s
the thought that counts.”


Thanks, but it matters to
my growling stomach.” Parke headed for the kitchen, and began his
presentation of entrées one at a time to the table. He played a
game of placing soft kisses on Cheney’s lips before going back for
another dish.

Once he took his seat, they joined
hands and he prayed, “Lord, I have so much to be thankful for,
besides not burning dinner. I didn’t deserve Your salvation or this
wonderful woman, but You found her for me. Now, I ask that You
sanctify and bless our food and help us to grow stronger in You in
Jesus’ Holy name. Amen.”


Amen,” Cheney repeated
before laughing.


What’s so funny?” Parke
asked, forking off a piece of meat.


You, me, us…Grandma BB,
Hallison.” She paused. “It’s like God is cleaning up the
neighborhood.”

Parke nodded. “The biggest difference
is praying. Don’t get me wrong. I like the quick, quiet prayers,
but hearing me—or rather, God— speaking through me in tongues is
confirmation that there is a God and He’s having this private
dialogue with me.”

Cheney frowned. “I can’t find it, but
I remember reading, ‘
He that speaketh in an unknown tongue
edifieth himself, but he that prophesieth edifieth the
church’.”

Parke piled a hungry-man portion of
roasted vegetables onto his plate. “First Corinthians. That’s all I
know.”

She bit into her Cornish hen. “You’ve
been holding out on me. If I had known you could throw down like
this, the children and I would’ve been sitting on your steps every
day, waiting for dinner.”


I’ve been holding out
for
you.”


You knew how to cook when
you enrolled in that cooking class with me, and when you pleaded
for my help in preparing dishes for your family night. You
crook.”


I’m guilty, baby. Guilty
of love,” he confessed, reaching for her hand.


You’re amazing, Parke
Kokumuo Jamieson VI, just amazing.”

Christian instrumental melodies
serenaded them as they ate and engaged in loving smiles and
harmless flirts. After enjoying his mother’s marble cheesecake,
Parke cleared his throat. “Our plates are empty, the music has
stopped, and the sunset is waiting for us.”

Pulling a black velvet box from his
pants pocket, Parke got on one knee and brought Cheney’s hand to
his lips. “Cheney Denise Reynolds, you’re the profile I’ve been
searching for, and I didn’t know it. Only you can fill my life with
happiness.”

Her eyes watered as her lips slightly
trembled.


I didn’t realize my
journey began the day you moved onto Benton Street. You’ll never
know how you rescued me from settling for less. The women I
wasted—and I do mean wasted— my time with you made me realize that
my soul was restless, searching for you and God, and maybe this
little boy with my name.”

She reached out and touched Parke’s
cheek with her free hand, mouthing
I love you.
“Have you
figured out who the mother of little Parke could’ve
been?”


No, and I don’t want to
talk about another woman right now. This is all about you. Will you
take me for all I have and don’t have to be my wife?” Parke opened
the box, displaying a cluster of shining diamonds.

Cheney gasped as tears spilled. “I
haven’t seen the rich and famous wear that many diamonds on one
ring.”


Yeah, I know I went a
little overboard.” He dabbed at her tears, grinning sheepishly.
“When Elaine gave Paki a son, it was recorded he carved a
three-dimensional face from wood, blending his face and hers into
the face of their child as a gift.”

She bowed her head. “You
kno—”


Shh, baby, you talk too
much. The answer is a three letter word.” He brushed a finger
against her lips. “The diamonds represent the stars dangling in the
sky. But the jeweler warned me if I add one more diamond, they
wouldn’t insure the ring. Will you marry me?”


I can’t bear your
seed.”


There’s things you can do
for me—love me,” Parke paused. “Marry me?”


Are you sure?”


Cheney!”


Yes, I’d be honored to be
your wife.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, squeezing
him so tight so as to cut off Parke’s air supply.


Whew! You made me beg for
that.” He exhaled and slid the ring on her finger.

 

***

 

The time had come.
I’m losing
another baby,
Cheney thought. No excuses, no sickness, or
family crisis would detain Kami another day. Cheney sniffed as she
folded and packed Kami’s clothes and stuffed them into three large
suitcases and a kiddie-size one that she could handle with her tiny
fingers.

Despite her melancholy, peace was
finally seeping into Cheney’s mind, knowing her own baby was safe
with Jesus. “What about Kami? Will she be safe, Lord?”

The night before, Kami had a ball at
her little going-away party. All the Jamiesons were in attendance
as well Hallison. They were making so much fuss over the child that
Cheney barely heard someone knocking. When she opened the door, she
blinked, stunned, and on guard. Cheney was almost happy to see her
mother. She had contacted her family after she turned her life over
to God, but they all offered her pity. Rainey and her dad seemed to
have the same schedule when she called—unavailable—so she stopped
calling weeks ago. Janae was always too busy with her own children
to talk. So Cheney prayed and asked God what to do.

Her mother offered her a faint smile.
“Mother?” In a flash, Parke and Mrs. Beacon were at her side like
summoned bodyguards.


May I come in? I won’t be
long.”

They all moved backwards as Kami
scrambled to the door, peeping at the visitor. Latching onto
Parke’s leg, Kami whispered, “Mine” instead of screaming and
attacking. Cheney smiled, hoping the next family would appreciate
the toddler’s possessiveness.

After the pleasantries were exchanged
and tea served, Gayle got down to the business at hand. “I’m sorry,
Cheney, truly.”


For what, Mom?”


Despising you for
carelessly getting pregnant, and then having the abortion. God has
been dealing with me of late, and believe me it’s not because I
sought Him. The past months I kept bumping into the same woman at
the grocery store, bank, and while shopping. She was always dressed
in black with a clergyman’s white collar, but it was her
expressionless face that scolded me without uttering a word until
our last encounter.”


What did she say?” Cheney
asked curious.

Bowing her head, Gayle toyed with the
rings on her fingers. “She warned me that hatred stirs up strife,
but love covers all sins.” She took a deep breath. “She also said
to get my house in order because my soul will be required sooner
than I was prepared for.”

Cheney gasped. She engulfed her mother
in a bear hug before sobbing. The division, bitterness, and
finger-pointing evaporated. “No.” She dropped to her knees. When
Parke and Mrs. Beacon saw her distress, they began to pray. Even
Kami mimicked them. “Jesus, help us all,” Cheney pleaded in prayer.
“Lord, I learned last night that Hezekiah petitioned for Death not
to come, and You added fifteen more years. Speak the Word, Lord,
and reverse the curse.”

Gayle, also crying, dropped on her
knees. “God, please forgive me.”

Charlotte seemed as if she wanted to
participate, but was uncertain. Charlotte and the elder Parke
watched the prayer with interest and curiosity before leaving.
Afterwards, Mrs. Beacon and Hallison took Kami next door, giving
Cheney and her mother some privacy.

Before leaving, Parke whispered in her
ear, “Forgive so we can be forgiven.” She nodded. “Mother, I love
you, and I made a series of personal mistakes. Although I’m sorry,
I only had to answer to God,” Cheney murmured tearfully.

Gayle clasped her hands and dropped
her head. “I’m sorry, too.”

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