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Authors: Jacquelin Thomas

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BOOK: Jezebel
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Jessie Belle didn't linger.

She returned home and spent the rest of the day with Holt. Jessie Belle felt like he'd grown up overnight.

H
ER TRAGEDY
CHAPTER THIRTY

April 1989

S
he and Traynor were on their weekly lunch date. It had become routine for them to meet at Milton's Deli every Wednesday at noon.

“Holt is graduating high school in a month. I still can't believe it,” Jessie Belle said. She took a sip of her iced tea. “It's gone by so fast. It seems like it was only yesterday when we took him to kindergarten. Do you remember that day?”

Smiling, he nodded. “It was also the day that our marriage got back on track.”

Jessie Belle broke into a smile. “I'm so glad you didn't give up on me, Traynor. I will forever be sorry for hurting you back then—I can't believe I was so stupid.”

Traynor reached over and took her hand. “We don't have to revisit the past, sweetheart. I love you more than my own life, Jessie Belle. You've made me so happy. I appreciate and admire the way you worked to become the person you are now. I'm very proud of you.”

Jessie Belle bit into her sandwich.

“Has Holt decided where he's going to college?” Traynor inquired. “Every time I ask him about it, he gives me a vague response.”

She wiped her mouth with the edge of her napkin. “He's received acceptance letters from UNC–Chapel Hill, Duke and NC State, but you know he wants to go to Los Angeles to be a musician. You know your son….”

Traynor took a long sip of iced tea, then wiped his mouth with his napkin. “I'd hoped he would follow me in the ministry, but I guess it just isn't his calling.”

“I wouldn't be so sure about that, Traynor,” Jessie Belle responded. “He could be trying to run from it. Not everyone will embrace their calling like you did. He finally applied to a couple of Bible colleges after I nagged him about it, and we're still waiting to hear back.”

“Jessie Belle, we can't force Holt into the ministry.”

“I'm not trying to force my son into anything,” she responded. “I can't help it if I want the best for him.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Traynor stated. “But there comes a time to let go and let God.”

“You're right,” Jessie Belle stated. She finished off her baked-chicken sandwich.

“If Holt's been called to the pulpit, he won't be able to run from it. In the meantime getting a degree in music won't hurt. Maybe he'll step up one day as our minister of music.”

Jessie Belle picked up her glass of water and took a sip.

Traynor reached over and covered her hand with his. “It's his life, sweetheart.”

“I know. It's just that he's still young and a little naive. Holt thinks he knows everything, but he doesn't.” She wiped her mouth with the edge of her napkin. “When he was born, my daddy said that God told him Holt would be traveling around the world preaching the Gospel. He didn't say anything about music.”

Jessie Belle sighed. “I hate that Papa's not here to see his only grandchild graduate. Both of his grandfathers are gone.”

Traynor nodded in understanding. “Aunt Eleanor, too. She loved herself some Holt. That was her only regret when she died. She hated that she wouldn't be here to see him get his diploma or graduate from college. You know how she was about education.”

“Yeah, she sure did love my baby,” Jessie Belle agreed. “She never could stand me, but she was crazy about Holt.”

He finished the last of his fish. “We don't have much family left, outside of your mother, your aunt and her children. Now, me, I don't have anybody but some cousins left.”

“We have each other, Traynor. For that, I'm so grateful and I thank God every single day.”

He met her gaze. “I feel the same way, sweetheart.”

“What in the world are we going to do when Holt leaves for school?” Jessie Belle asked. “We're gonna be in that big house all alone.”

“I'm sure we can find ways to keep ourselves occupied.”

Grinning, Jessie Belle responded, “As a matter of fact, I do have some ideas.” She leaned forward in her chair. “C'mere and I'll share them with you.”

Jessie Belle cornered her son outside his bedroom. “Holt, have you given any more thought to what we talked about yesterday?”

“I thought about it, Mother, but I can't. I can't be a minister.”

“How can you disappoint your father like this, Holt? He really wanted you to join him in the pulpit.”

Holt sighed in resignation. “Why can't you understand that it's not what I want to do? I'm a singer, Mother.”

“I don't have a problem with that. Honey, you can still sing. I just don't believe it's your calling.”

“Mother, I know Papa told you that I would be a minister, but he was wrong. I just don't feel it in my heart—not the way I do about music. I'm sorry. After I graduate, I'd like to move to Los Angeles so that I can explore my career. Mitch is moving out there, too. We plan on getting an apartment together.”

“And if it doesn't work out?” Jessie Belle questioned. “What are you going to do then?”

He shrugged in nonchalance. “I don't know, but I'll figure out something. I might even change my mind about college.”

“Why not get a degree in music, then?” she suggested. “You've already been accepted at several of the local schools—just go to college and major in music. You can do that.”

“I want to move to Los Angeles, Mother. If I decide to go to school, I'll take classes out there.”

“I think you're making a big mistake, Holt.”

“I don't agree,” he responded. “I wish I could make you understand.”

“Honey, I do understand. Really, I do. Do you realize how hard it's going to be trying to break into the music industry? Thousands of kids move to Los Angeles for that same reason. The competition is stiff, and it's just crazy.”

“Mother, you forgot who raised me. I have my faith and I know that I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me. I am the head and not the tail….”

Smiling, Jessie Belle hugged him. “What in the world am I supposed to say to that?”

“That you'll support me in whatever I do.”

“That's a given, Holt. You know that I support you, but you're my only child. I can't help but worry.”

Jessie Belle couldn't stand the little tramp Holt had insisted on escorting to the prom. Shannon Atwater had a reputation for putting out and that was not the type of girl she wanted Holt associating with.

“I don't know why he refused to take that Barton girl to the prom,” Jessie Belle complained to Mary Ellen. “She's such a sweet girl.”

“He doesn't like her. Holt says she's stuck up.”

“At least she doesn't look like she's old enough to be his mother.”

Mary Ellen hollered. “Now, you know that's not a nice thing to say, Jessie Belle.”

“You know it's true. Shannon looks years older than she is. That's what being fast will do to you.”

Mary Ellen looped her arm through Jessie Belle's as they descended the spiral staircase. “Holt's not trying to marry the girl. He's just taking her to the prom. It's not a big deal.”

They settled down in the living room.

“I don't want her trying to seduce my son. She knows we have money and I'm sure the heifer wants some of it. She might even try to get pregnant.” Jessie Belle clenched and unclenched her fists. “I'm not letting her ruin my son's future.”

Mary Ellen laughed. “Sweetie, you're getting all worked up for nothing. Shannon is just his prom date. That's it.”

Jessie Belle eyed her friend. “How do you know?”

“Because Holt talks to me,” Mary Ellen stated. “He tells his godmother everything.”

Jessie Belle folded her arms across her chest. “I think I'm jealous.”

“He's not going to tell you stuff because you're his mother, Jessie Belle. Did you tell your mother everything that was going on in your life?”

Jessie Belle shook her head no. “Well, is there anything I should know about him?”

“Just that he really wants to go to Los Angeles. Jessie Belle, Holt really wants to try to get his music career off the ground.”

“I know, Mary Ellen. It's all he talks about. I just don't believe that it's going to happen the way he thinks it is. I don't want to see Holt get hurt.”

“You and Traynor raised a great son. He'll be fine.”

“You're right.” Jessie Belle stood up. “I need to see what Traynor and my son are up to—the limo will be here shortly.”

She went back up to the second level.

Jessie Belle overheard Holt talking to his father.

“I'm sorry if I'm a big disappointment to you.”

“You're not a disappointment, Holt,” Traynor assured him. “All I ask is that you seek God's wisdom in all that you do. Pray about this and know that this is what God wants you to do. Just be sure.”

“I have prayed and I truly believe God is leading me down this path.”

Jessie Belle clenched her fists. Traynor was supposed to try to talk Holt into studying music at one of the colleges in the area. Instead, he was giving the boy his blessing.

“Obviously, Traynor's not going to do anything about this, so I'm going to have to,” she whispered. “Holt's still too young to really know what he's been called to do. He needs our guidance.”

If Traynor won't do his job as a parent, then he leaves me absolutely no choice. I have to protect Holt at all costs
.

She knocked on the door before stepping inside the room. “The limo will be arriving shortly and we have to have pictures, so hurry up, you two.”

“I'm ready,” Holt stated. “Mother, you weren't serious about following the limo over to Shannon's house, were you?”

“Of course I was. Mary Ellen and I are going to take pictures of you and your date. It's your prom.”

“Father…”

Traynor held up his hands. “Son, I don't have anything to do with it and I'm not about to come between your mother and godmother. Sorry.”

“I can't believe you leaving me hanging like this,” Holt complained. “That's not cool.”

“Oh, so you want me to take on your mother?”

Jessie Belle smiled as she listened to the lighthearted bantering between father and son.

“And that godmother of yours…son, you on your own with those two.”

She laughed. “Holt, stop complaining. We're just so proud of our handsome boy and we're doing what every mother in America's doing. We're capturing prom-night memories. My parents did it and I'm sure your father went through the same thing.”

Traynor nodded. “I sure did. Son, I survived it, too.”

Mary Ellen came up to the room and announced, “The limo's here.” Holding up her camera, she added, “It's showtime.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

W
ith Holt at the prom and Mary Ellen gone, they had the house to themselves. Traynor led Jessie Belle upstairs to their bedroom.

They relieved themselves of clothes, lit candles and soaked in the large Jacuzzi bathtub.

“This feels good,” Jessie Belle murmured.

Traynor agreed.

“Do you remember your prom?”

He glanced over at her. “Of course. I'm not that old.”

Jessie Belle laughed. “I didn't mean it that way, honey. I remember mine, too. It was nice, but it wasn't great.”

“My date ended up with chicken pox,” Traynor stated. “I went to the prom alone.”

“That's awful.”

He nodded. “She was so upset about it. When she wasn't contagious, I told her to get all dressed up in her prom dress—we went and had pictures done and my dad reserved a table at one of the best restaurants. We had a nice dinner and went dancing afterwards.”

“That's so sweet, Traynor. I'm not surprised, though. You're a good man and very romantic. That's one of the qualities I love about you. You inspire me to be a much better person.”

“You have so much good in you, sweetheart. You are a phenomenal cook, a wonderful and devoted mother, and you are a good wife. There was a time I never thought I'd trust you again, but you changed that. You set out to prove you were trustworthy and you did. Jessie Belle, you are still as beautiful as the day I met you.”

“You know exactly what to say to me.”

“Everything I've said is true, sweetheart.”

They got out of the tub.

Jessie Belle reached over, pulling her husband close. “I'm so happy, honey. I thank God for bringing you into my life even when I didn't deserve a good man like you.”

Traynor dried her off tenderly, then led her over to the bed.

They made love and eventually fell asleep in each other's arms.

Holt came downstairs around ten a.m.

Traynor laid down his newspaper on the table and said, “Looks like you had a good time last night. You were supposed to be up an hour ago to unlock the church for the youth choir.”

“Sorry, Dad…I forgot all about it.”

“It's alright. I went down and did it.” He pointed toward the kitchen. “There's a plate of pancakes, scrambled eggs and bacon on the stove for you. Just heat it up.”

“Where's Mom?” Holt inquired.

“She had a hair appointment this morning. She should be back around eleven or so.”

Over breakfast, Holt gave a brief recap of his evening. He and Traynor cleaned the kitchen afterward, and then walked outside to turn the sprinklers on.

Traynor enjoyed spending time with his son. They shared a close relationship and he hoped it would always be this way.

“I'm real proud of you,” Traynor stated. “I just want you to know that, son.”

“Even if I don't want to go to college right now?”

Traynor met Holt's gaze. “I can't see forcing you to go away to college, only to have you drop out later. You won't be focused.”

Jessie Belle pulled up into the driveway.

Holt walked over to the car and opened the door for her.

“Thank you, son,” she murmured. Jessie Belle kissed him on the cheek. “How was the prom? You got in pretty late.”

He laughed. “How do you know? You and Dad were knocked out. I went to your room and y'all were sleeping like babies.”

“I saw you peeking inside,” Traynor stated. “It was almost three o'clock when you did that.”

“I was home thirty minutes by then,” Holt responded with a chuckle.

Traynor and Jessie Belle gave each other a knowing grin.

“Stop lying,” she told her son. “Don't forget—all the games you try to run on us…we've already tried with our parents.”

“Aunt Eleanor told me about you, Dad. She said you used to try and sneak out of your window until Granddad nailed it shut.”

Traynor wrapped an arm around Jessie Belle. “I don't know what you're talking about, son.”

They all laughed.

Inside the house, Traynor and his family sat down together in the family room. Jessie Belle snuggled up to him on the sofa.

“Holt, we're not going to fuss about your missing curfew last night, but understand this is a onetime pass,” Jessie Belle stated. “Prom night is a special circumstance. I just hope you weren't doing something that may come back to haunt you.”

“Mom, I know you not talking about what I think—”

“I'm talking about sex,” she quickly interjected. “The last thing you need is a baby on the way.”

Holt glanced over at his father. “Dad…”

“Your mother does have a point,” Traynor responded. “I was young once and I know all about those raging hormones. Son…”

“Don't start preaching, please. I didn't do nothing. I don't want a baby either. I'm leaving town after graduation and I'm not gonna let anything get in the way of that.” Holt stood up and said, “I need to get ready. I'm meeting Mitch down at the studio to go over a couple of songs.”

“Make sure you're back here by dinnertime,” Traynor instructed.

“I will.”

Traynor eyed his wife when Holt left the room, and said, “I think our son has a good head on his shoulders.”

“But how do we know that he'll always think with his head?”

Jessie Belle admired herself in the full-length mirror. She was wearing the triple-strand pearl necklace that once belonged to Traynor's mother. After Eleanor's death, she was able to finally get her hands on the jewelry she felt should have been hers to begin with.

She never failed to thank God for saving her marriage, and Jessie Belle worked hard and diligently to be the type of wife Traynor could be proud of, but deep down she yearned for more. Each time ECC elections rolled around, she encouraged Traynor to run, but he refused.

“Why won't you run for ECC president, Traynor?” she'd asked him the night before. “Everybody thinks you should.”

“I don't think the time is right,” he responded.

“Traynor, it's been over thirteen years,” Jessie Belle argued. “James died two years ago and Sampson, last month. Nobody is going to bring up a rumor that old—if they even remember it. I give you my word—I won't interfere.”

He eyed her. “Why is this so important to you?”

“ECC needs a president they can trust, Traynor. That's you.”

“You won't interfere?”

“Honey, I've learned from my mistakes. I promise you that you'll win fair and square.”

“I'll pray about it.”

Jessie Belle nodded in understanding. “Whatever you decide, honey—I'll support your decision.”

“Thank you,” Traynor murmured.

She drew her attention back to the present. Jessie Belle ran her fingers through her long curling tendrils. She gently patted the skin beneath her eyes and whispered, “I'm getting wrinkles.”

Scrutinizing her appearance, Jessie Belle decided that she didn't look too bad for her age. Women in her family aged well, so she wasn't really worried about her looks, but she wanted Traynor to continue to find her attractive.

The church members seemed to be getting younger and younger and there were a few of them eyeing Traynor. Jessie Belle was cool about it, but she made it known that she wasn't about to put up with nonsense.

Traynor walked into the bedroom. “Sweetheart, it's almost time to lea—” He stopped short.

Jessie Belle turned around to face him. “What is it? Why are you staring at me like that?”

“You still take my breath away.”

She smiled. “I feel the same way about you, Traynor. You are such a handsome man. You know I have to rein in some of those fast women at the church—always trying to sit on the front row with those short dresses on.”

He chuckled. “I see you're still jealous.”

“When it comes to you—yes, I am,” Jessie Belle confessed. “You're the love of my life, and I'm not letting another woman take you away from me.”

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