In Times of Trouble (2 page)

“Please let me know the minute you hear from her,” RJ requested.

“I will,” she assured.

He had some nerve, acting like a concerned father when he was the reason why she and Chanelle had left Baltimore and come to Ohio in the first place. Had she known several summers ago when she moved here that he would follow, she would have accepted another job elsewhere.

Feeling her blood pressure rise with each passing second, she went back into the living room and sat on the couch. She began
fiddling with the charm on the necklace she never took off, which had become a habit whenever she became nervous or angry. The time was exactly 1:07 a.m. and that meant her daughter was now sixty-seven minutes past curfew. Lisa was fuming!

Though the “God, please don't let anything bad happen to her” prayer cycled through Lisa's head a few times, she honestly didn't feel a need to panic. For some reason, Lisa knew Chanelle was okay—wherever she was. Chanelle was okay now, but Lisa couldn't promise that she'd be later when she finally brought her behind home and parental justice kicked in.

She did not understand why Chanelle would intentionally lie and violate her curfew. She was fresh off of punishment for talking back earlier that week. Lisa had asked Chanelle to get off the computer so she could type some information for work, but Chanelle had defiantly replied, “No!”—as if Lisa had really given her an option. Already stressed because of her work challenges, Lisa controlled the urge to snatch Chanelle out of the chair by her ponytail and threatened that if she didn't move of her own accord, she would be moved. Chanelle got up without further objection but her attitude had struck Lisa's nerve, so Chanelle had been placed on punishment.

Hearing the sound of her mother's footsteps descending the hardwood stairs, Lisa leaned back on the sofa so as not to appear overly anxious.

“Chanelle still hasn't made it home?” Her mother's wire-framed glasses rested at the tip of her nose while a large green robe concealed her body.

“Nope. . .”

“Did you call Jareeka's?”

“Yes, her father said that she and her mother are away for the weekend.” She felt herself tensing with every word.

“What about RJ? Have you called him?”

“He hasn't seen her either.”

“Well, don't come down too hard on her. Maybe she didn't know Jareeka was out of town and when she found out, she decided to hang with one of her other friends instead. Now she should've at least called and told you, but she was probably so happy to get out the house that she forgot. Poor thing; it seems like she's always on punishment. Sometimes I think you're too hard on that girl. I don't want to meddle—”

“Then please don't,” the thirty-eight-year-old interjected in the most respectful tone that she could conjure up with a clenched jaw.

“All right. I'll keep my opinion to myself, but I was merely going to say that you may want to consider extending Chanelle's curfew. She's practically an adult and it's time you start treating her like one. Maybe then you'd be less likely to run into this problem.”

An electrifying jolt shot through Lisa's body. The way she disciplined Chanelle had become a constant point of contention between her and her mother. Thank goodness Hattie would soon be moving into her own apartment! Lisa could not wait!

“That makes absolutely no sense!” she fired back. “What she is, is irresponsible. Why should I reward her for not being able to honor her curfew? And anyhow, she wouldn't have been on punishment recently had she not been so smart at the mouth.”

“I wonder where she got it from. . .” her mother replied cynically, quickly disappearing into the kitchen and returning moments later. “Good night.”

“The same to you,” Lisa replied, continuing to stew as the clock read 1:21 a.m. The only other noise she heard was the emptying of the automatic ice machine until ten minutes or so later when
a car pulled into the driveway. Lisa's heart began racing when she saw flashing blue and red lights from the window. It wasn't her car as she had thought, but a police cruiser. A gut-wrenching fear fell over her. Had something horrible happened to Chanelle? She felt guilty about being so angry and the missed curfew was now a minor issue compared to the concern that her baby might be lying in the hospital somewhere. Lisa was horrified by the unlimited possibilities of things that could've happened to her daughter. The pit of her stomach knotted as she sprang from the couch and raced to the front door.

C
allie Jamison lay curled up in her waterbed. She'd barricaded herself in her room several days ago. Since the day she'd gotten the devastating news, she hadn't eaten, slept or done much of anything except stare at the sky gray walls. She felt ashamed. But why?
She
hadn't done anything. Still, she tried to bury her pain in the depth of her heart, but her anger was so overwhelming that it kept resurrecting and she found herself hating everything and everyone. . .including God.

Her Bible lay next to the bed on the oak nightstand, secured in its black leather case. Until a few days ago, she used to read it regularly. Having read the Bible from the time she was a child until her late-forties, she figured she knew just about everything it said. She could name all the books in order, quote scripture verbatim and over the course of many years, she had written a synopsis of every book for her own personal benefit. Because she was so well-studied, Callie had been prepared to deal with everything life threw her way. . .or so she'd thought. Nothing she'd read between the pages of those sixty-six books had prepared her for this!

“Mom,” Bryan called, gently tapping on her bedroom door.

If it weren't for him, Callie probably would've lost her mind or
killed herself by now. Thankfully, Bryan had dropped everything at a moment's notice and driven nearly six hours from L.A. to Sacramento to be by her side. She wondered what was going through his mind as he raced across the interstate. She realized that he was hurting in his own way. Both of them were still grieving the loss of his father, Marvin, who had committed suicide seven months ago, but Callie had been the only one in therapy over the situation. She had always felt guilty and negligent. As his wife, shouldn't she have seen the warning signs? The suicide note Marvin had left behind offered no explanation. It simply read, “I'm so sorry.” Recently, new developments had surfaced, shedding more light on the incident.

“Mom!” Bryan yelled again.

“Come in,” she finally said.

“I'm getting ready to go to bed. I wanted to make sure you didn't need anything.” His voice was low and shaky—definitely not the sound of a prominent attorney who had recently made junior partner at his law firm. Even his appearance lacked confidence. Bryan's bulky frame normally stood about six-one, like his father's, but his slumped shoulders and drooping head made him seem shorter.

Callie shook her head. “Unless you have a bag of miracles, I can't think of anything else I need,” she said in an “I'm-trying-to-make-a-joke-but-I'm-really-not-in-a-laughing-mood” sort of way.

Bryan walked over and sat next to her on the bed. “I wish I could perform miracles,” he whispered.

His sincerity caused Callie's eyes to well with tears. She didn't think any had escaped until Bryan wiped her cheek.

“I'm so sorry this happened to you. . .” He took her hand, squeezing it gently and staring at her, sadly. She could feel the energy of his love through his firm grip. Looking into his big
brown eyes, she was reminded of the five-year-old who'd won her heart way before Marvin ever did. They had become the perfect match. He was the child she could never carry and she was the mother figure that he'd longed for.

It was as if Marvin was the stepparent and not her. People who didn't know the circumstances would sometimes comment on how much they looked alike. Besides their mocha-colored skin, Callie didn't see the resemblance between Bryan and herself, but she definitely didn't mind the comparison. They had an unbreakable bond with one another. If it weren't for him, Callie would've wished the last twenty-four years of her life away.

“This is a time when we must lean on God more than ever,” Bryan said, interrupting Callie's nostalgic moment. “Lord knows, I don't understand why this has happened to you. The only scripture that comes to mind right now is Proverbs 3:4-5. That's what we have to stand on.”

Callie quickly mulled the scripture over in her mind.
Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.
Callie was so angry with God that she wanted to severely admonish Bryan for his advice. How in the world could she trust God when He was the One who had let this happen?

“What time are you leaving tomorrow?” She purposely changed the subject to avoid the possibility of further biblical instruction.

“I'll probably take off around ten or so. I'll be back on Thursday.”

“What about your workload?”

“It'll be taken care of. I've spoken to one of the senior partners and he said I can take all the time I need. I want to wrap up a few things, but I'll be back.”

“Thanks, honey, but I don't want you to take too much time off for me. Save some of your time so you can spend it with Tyra after the baby gets here.”

“Don't worry. . .Tyra knows I'll be there when she needs me. Have you given any more thought to coming to stay with us?”

“I don't know. . .we'll see.”

“When I mentioned the idea to Tyra, she didn't seem to mind. She'd enjoy dragging you to Lamaze classes and out baby shopping.”

“Like I said. . .we'll see. I appreciate the offer, but I'm fine, really.”

Bryan frowned. “This is what you call fine? Being locked in your bedroom for days without eating or socializing with the outside world?”

“I needed time to process everything.”

“I know. . .but you're worrying me. . .especially since you're not eating.”

“I have eaten—”

“I'm not convinced forcing a pack of peanut butter crackers down your throat while I'm watching can technically be considered eating. How about we get up early in the morning so I can take you out for some mouth-watering buttermilk pancakes?”

Callie couldn't help but smile; he knew she had a weakness for pancakes. “Thanks, but I'll pass. Maybe next time.”

“Are you going to church in the morning?”

“I wasn't planning on it,” she answered simply, though she really had a much stronger response in mind—a two-word phrase that began with the letter “h” and ended with the word “no.”

“You may want to touch base with Sister Ellis. She's called several times. She sounded a bit concerned since she hasn't heard from you in a few weeks. She mentioned a women's retreat you two are planning.”

“Helping her get that retreat together is the least of my concerns right now. She'll eventually figure that out because I'm not calling her or anyone else.”

“Have you talked to Lisa?”

Callie sighed. “Not since all of this came out. The last time we spoke was about me coming to Chanelle's graduation party. I should call and let her know I'm not going to make it.”

Nine years Lisa's senior, the two weren't close, but shared a cordial relationship. It was most likely the blood connection that kept them together, because they were complete opposites. Callie thought her sister could be a bit pretentious at times. No matter how many fallouts they had, their relationship remained intact.

They didn't really look like siblings. Far from inheriting their mother's light skin tone and hourglass figure, Callie's dark frame was more pear-shaped than anything else; and she hadn't worn any size lower than a sixteen since graduating high school. Lisa had always been the lucky one.

“Don't call and cancel,” said Bryan. “Chanelle's graduation is still a month away. You may feel differently by then. I would go, but I hate to leave Tyra by herself so close to her delivery date.”

“I'm not in the right mindset to be around Lisa and Mama. This is hard enough to deal with as it is. The less people know, the better.”

“But they aren't just people, Mom. They're family. I recognize this is hard for you, but Lisa and Grandma Hattie will support you in any way they can.”

“I don't need support right now, Bryan. I need to be left alone!” she snapped, then realized her harshness. “I'm sorry. . .you're only trying to help. . . I'm just so angry. This is too much to bear. I feel so. . .” She burst into tears.

Bryan bent down and cradled her. “Shhh. . .It's okay. We'll take it one day at a time,” he whispered.