Heaven Right Here (4 page)

Read Heaven Right Here Online

Authors: Lutishia Lovely

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Literary, #United States, #African American, #Christian, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Fiction, #Literary Fiction

BOOK: Heaven Right Here
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6
Long Time No See
Cy Taylor’s harried spirit calmed as soon as he stepped into the lobby of Hotel Parisi near the shores of La Jolla, California. Perhaps it was the combination of modern designs mixed with Mediterranean old-world charm, or the feng shui practiced throughout the establishment. Perhaps it was the original artwork or the custom designed sculptures and rich walnut furniture. Then again, it may have been the coolness of the marble floors and the tranquil, undisturbed atmosphere that almost caused one to whisper. Whatever it was, Cy was grateful, both for the ambience and for the fact that this was the last appointment on a rarely worked Saturday. He tried to keep weekends free for him and Hope, and he couldn’t wait to head home to his lady love and dinner with two of their favorite people—his pastor and first lady, Derrick and Vivian Montgomery.
Cy had just taken a seat on a sofa near the fireplace when his cell phone rang. It was his appointment, Charlie Seagram, who was stuck in 405 freeway traffic and running late. Cy was tempted to reschedule, but because this was to be one of the last meetings before deciding whether he was going to become a silent partner in Seagram’s construction company, he decided to wait the half hour Charlie said it would be before he arrived.
He hit number one on his speed dial. “Hey, baby.”
“Hey, love! I just got off the phone with Vivian. She invited us to bring our swimsuits and said their grilled patio feast will be followed by decadent homemade ice-cream shakes enjoyed in their Jacuzzi. I told her it sounded wonderful.”
“You told her right. Besides, you know I never pass up the chance to see you in your famous thong bikini.”
“Uh, right. Flashing my brown cheeks in front of my pastor is sure to win points with his wife, I’m sure.”
“She’s got a pretty good-looking set of cheeks herself; she won’t mind.”
“Since when are you checking out Vivian’s booty?”
“Since never.” Cy wasn’t even going to go down that road. “I’m just assuming that because they’re universal, she too has a behind.”
“Okay, Mr. Taylor, I’ll let you slide this time. But if I see your eyes wandering away from my conservative one-piece, you’re going to have some explaining to do.”
They continued talking for a few minutes until Cy looked up and saw a familiar face coming toward him.
“Look, baby, I have to run. Tell Derrick and Viv we might be a little late. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
“Considering Derrick’s always full schedule, I’m sure they’ll understand. I’ll call them now.”
Cy’s smile was genuine as he rose from the sofa with hand outstretched. It was immediately batted away and replaced with a heartfelt hug. They hadn’t seen each other in a long time.
“Cy Taylor,” Millicent said, smiling. “What are you doing in my neck of the woods?”
7
Mysterious Ways
Cy and Millicent exchanged cordialities and sat on the sofa.
“Millicent Sims . . . or, actually, it’s something else now, Millicent . . . ?”
“Kirtz,” she replied.
“That’s right. Your husband is the man we met in Mexico.”
Millicent nodded. “Jack Kirtz.”
“That name is familiar. Isn’t he the one heading up that international alliance to stop genocide in Darfur?”
“Jack represents our ministry, Open Arms, as a very active board member. He’s especially concerned about the effect of those horrible atrocities on that country’s children and more specifically is working to set up adoptive homes for some of those orphaned. We’ve even discussed perhaps adopting a daughter.”
Cy sat back and got comfortable, crossing his right foot over his left knee as he eyed Millicent intently. “No offense, but I never really saw you as the mothering type.”
Millicent laughed. “None taken. Until I met Jack, I wasn’t. But look what God can do. I’ve been married for just over two years now, with a son and two nearly grown stepchildren. Much different than the Millicent you remember, huh? The one who stalked you relentlessly for years.”
“Look, I—”
“Really, Cy, it’s okay. I’ve prayed for this moment actually, a chance to see you face-to-face . . . and apologize. I embarrassed both of us, and I am truly sorry. I was a different woman then, obviously disillusioned. Looking back, I simply cannot believe I did the things I did. Thank God my mother was right: time and God have healed those emotional wounds. And I no longer have regrets. Everything in my past has led to my present—a wife and mother with a wonderful husband, delightful child. . . .”
Cy’s heart warmed as he looked at Millicent. This self-assured person he saw now was the one he’d admired years ago, the reason he’d asked her out. She was smart, sensitive, and, yes, beautiful. He was genuinely happy for her happiness. And glad she’d finally left him alone.
“I guess I owe you an apology too,” Cy said, changing the subject. “I was pretty forceful with you that night we ran into each other at the resort in Riviera Maya. I was sure you were stalking me, had followed me there.”
“I had,” Millicent admitted. “I found out you and Hope would be vacationing at the Rosewood Mayakobá resort.”
“How?”
Millicent held up her hand. “Don’t ask. Let’s just say that where there’s a will, there’s a way. I don’t know what I had in mind exactly, except to try to get you back. I was so jealous of the fact Hope had you and I didn’t.
“God works in mysterious ways,” Millicent continued. “Unbeknownst to me, Jack’s travel agent had booked his vacation at the very same resort. He had no idea I’d be there. In fact, I’d lied to him and said I would be vacationing in Hawaii. But after he arrived, he spotted me sitting at the bar in the restaurant. At God’s urging, he decided to keep an eye on me. And he did. You might remember how shocked I was to see him. That was not acting.”
“Interesting,” Cy said, rubbing his chin. “Unbelievable.”
“Now I can honestly say I’m happy for you and Hope. If your marriage is half as much a blessing as mine is to my savory Scot, you are two very blessed people. I’m sure it’s just a matter of time before you’ll be adding some little Taylors to your household.”
“In God’s time,” Cy replied before quickly changing the subject. His comfort with Millicent did not extend to talk about his fertility issues. “So Jack is Scottish?”
“Among other things. His great-grandparents were from Sweden and England. But the Scottish blood on his grandfather’s side is where he gets his fire.” Millicent blushed, again murmuring her husband’s pet name. “My savory Scot.”
Seeing the obvious love she felt for her husband, Cy relaxed even more. “What are you doing here at the hotel?”
“Meeting with our church’s woman’s group, the Divas of Destiny. We meet here once a month—love the ambience. And you?”
“Meeting a prospective business partner.”
“Regarding real estate? You know, Jack has quite a substantial holding of properties in this area.”
Cy immediately thought of his and Hope’s plans to build a dream home. “Actually, I am looking for property in this area, something near the ocean.”
Millicent pulled a card from her briefcase. “This is Jack’s number. You might give him a call. His properties include some exquisite oceanfront tracts of land, and he’s recently talked of developing some of it. Maybe he’d be willing to sell you a few acres.”
Cy had been researching property in the area for the past twelve months and, even with his deep pockets, had seen how difficult it was to acquire pristine, unobstructed oceanfront land. It would be the height of irony if the spot for his dream home came by way of his former nemesis. But as Millicent had said, God worked in mysterious ways.
Millicent looked up to see a nice-looking older man with thick salt-and-pepper–colored hair heading in their direction. He waved his hand to Cy in greeting. Cy waved back.
“Sorry I’m late,” Charlie said before he’d fully reached the now standing couple.
After handshakes and introductions, Millicent turned to Cy. “It was great to see you again, Cy. Please keep in touch. I’m sure my husband will be delighted to hear from you.”
Just over an hour later, Cy rolled down the 405 in his brand-new cream-colored Bentley Azure convertible, the sounds of vintage Miles Davis pouring from the top-of-the-line speakers. True to his word, he’d phoned Jack shortly after his meeting with Charlie had ended, and as Millicent had anticipated, Jack was very interested to discuss real estate and possibly other business ventures, including rebuilding communities for the displaced in Darfur.
Cy’s stomach growled as he anticipated what was sure to be a delicious dinner flawlessly prepared by Derrick’s wife. He couldn’t help but smile as he imagined their varied reactions to his surprise meeting with Millicent and of God’s sense of humor when he disclosed that his newest business partner may be one they’d never guess . . . her husband.
8
The Devil’s Playground
Hope’s reaction was not as he’d imagined. Granted, he knew Millicent was not her favorite person; he hadn’t thought she’d do cartwheels over hearing he’d run into her. But neither had he expected the anger she was now displaying in front of their hosts, not even hiding her immense displeasure for the sake of appearances.
“I can’t believe her nerve, though I shouldn’t be surprised,” Hope spat out between tightly clenched teeth. “Coming up to chat as if you were friends. Will that bi—
witch
ever be totally out of our lives?”
A subtle look passed between Cy, Derrick, and Vivian. Vivian took a sip of tea before responding. “Given your history, I can understand your reaction, Hope. But God expects us to forgive. It’s obvious she’s moved on, and I, for one, am happy to see that.”
“I am too,” Derrick quickly added.
Cy, wisely, remained silent.
“Once you forgive her, Hope,” Vivian continued softly, “you’ll be able to truly wish her happiness and find your peace as well.”
“Look, I’ve forgiven her, okay? But I’m not going to sit here and act like I like her. And since you haven’t been through what I have, Vivian, maybe you should keep your holier than thou opinions to yourself!”
Vivian’s brows raised in surprise, while Hope’s unapologetic glare dared a response. Her sharp retort to Vivian was uncharacteristic, not to mention disrespectful. Cy looked at Derrick, who subtly shrugged his shoulders and continued eating. For a moment, silverware clinking on china was the only sound heard.
“This chicken is grilled to perfection, baby,” Derrick offered. “Was there lemon in the marinade?”
Vivian nodded but didn’t yet trust herself to speak. She sympathized with Hope as well as all the other women with issues she faced through counseling the congregation. But even Jesus got angry. And that Hope dared to check her while sitting at her table eating her organic food . . . well, it was almost too much.
“I love these grilled vegetables,” Cy said. “What’s all in here, Vivian? Zucchini, squash, and what’s this?”
Vivian chewed and swallowed her forkful of food. “Eggplant,” she said simply.
Figuring a joke about how eggs get planted might not be appropriate, considering the circumstances and his wife’s fertility issues, Cy instead tried to right the nearly derailed train of civility by replacing their own drama with another ongoing KCCC feud.
“Were you surprised to see Shabach at church last Sunday?” he asked Derrick. “Or had his office phoned?”
Derrick wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I knew he’d be there. His management called the office and asked if Shabach could sing a song or two. But the Musical Messengers were already booked. You know, Hope, it was at the midnight musical you coordinated in Kansas that I first heard those cats play. I told Vivian then that we’d see the Musical Messengers one day on the national stage. Did you have anything to do with getting them more exposure?”
Hope had calmed down and knew Derrick was trying to coax her back into the conversation. “Not much, other than recommending them to any and everyone who’d listen. I heard an agent was at Noel Jones’s church when they played there and that’s how they got a deal.”
“You know, baby,” Vivian began, “it’s not right that this ridiculous feud between Shabach and Darius is keeping us from extending the same invite to him that we do other gospel talents.”
Derrick leaned over and kissed his wife. “That’s why I love you, woman. You keep Big Daddy in check. But I’m a step ahead of you. I’ve scheduled a meeting with Darius to discuss this very issue because Shabach’s people let me know he’ll be back in our area around Thanksgiving, and I’ve given them an open invite to sing at the church.”
The feud between Shabach and Darius was legendary, going back to when both were unknowns trying to come up. The rivalry was constantly fueled by rumors, lies, and half-truths of each trying to sabotage the other’s career.
“It’s about time someone stepped in to squash that beef,” Cy added. “There’s enough money, fans, and success out there for everybody.”
The discussion flowed from the constantly dueling recording artists to the changing landscape of gospel music and of music in general. From there the topic switched to the success of Carla’s talk show and what everyone was doing for the holidays. By the time dinner was over, their usual camaraderie had returned. The Taylors said yes to the decadent vanilla dessert, but Hope asked if they could take a rain check on the swim and Jacuzzi.
A half hour later, Derrick and Vivian walked Hope and Cy to the door.
“All right, my man,” Derrick said as he gave Cy a brother’s handshake. “Are we still on for basketball later this week?”
“I hope so,” Cy answered. “All this delicious food has me watching my waistline.”
Meanwhile, Hope hugged Vivian. “I’m sorry for snapping at you, Vivian,” Hope said softly. “I didn’t mean what I said. I value your opinion . . . always.”
“All is forgiven,” Vivian said. “What are you doing Monday?”
Hope thought for a moment. “I have a few errands to run in the morning and a Pilates class in the early afternoon. After that I’m free. What’s up?”
“I was hoping we could meet. I have an idea I want to run past you.”
“Why don’t you come over to my house, say, around four o’clock?”
“I’ll be there,” Vivian said and then added, “But I’m coming in my tennis shoes and without my earrings so that if you go off on a sistah like that again, I can give you a Madea-style beat-down!”
The comment elicited the laugh Vivian had hoped for. The women hugged again, and both couples waved at each other once more as the Taylors walked to their car.
Vivian’s smile remained in place until their guests’ taillights had disappeared down the drive. Then her brows furrowed. She was concerned about Hope and what her obsession with Millicent and motherhood was doing to her spirit and to her chances of getting pregnant. Mother Moseley said an idle mind was the devil’s playground. Maybe Hope had too much free time on her hands. Vivian hoped involving Hope in her plans for ministerial expansion would give her friend and valued church member something else to think about.

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