As Neil gathered himself and began the drive back toward Stone Mountain, the traffic was noticeably heavier than it had been when he made the early morning trip to Buckhead. Twenty minutes into the journey, he heard his cell phone ringing from somewhere in his gym bag just as he approached a major intersection. The red light allowed him the chance to reach into the side pocket of the bag to retrieve his Bluetooth. He didn't have time to fish for the phone itself. “Hello.” Neil had barely attached it to his ear before pressing the button to answer the call. He hoped it was Shaylynn. Even if she was calling to chew him out, he'd be happy. At least she'd be talking to him, and he'd have the chance to try to explain himself.
“Hey, Doc. I'm just pulling up at the gym and don't see your truck in its usual spot. You're coming this morning, right?”
Neil would know that slight German accent anywhere. He didn't understand why his trainer insisted upon calling him Doc, as though he was some top surgeon or something. He was a PhD, not an MD. People didn't widely refer to one who held a doctorate in philosophy as
Doc
, but Neil had no real qualms with it. “What's up, Adam? I've actually already hit the gym for today, man. I needed to get my five miles in early because I have another appointment.”
“You've been here already and gone? Wow, dude; you're on the ball. I like that. You didn't let your appointment be an excuse to skip. What was your time today? Did you challenge yourself to beat your time from last Saturday?”
This is what Neil got for giving Adam his cell number. If the boy couldn't push him at the gym, he'd do it away from the gym. To be honest, Neil had no idea what his time had been; his mind had been too occupied to pay it any attention. “It was about the same,” he reported, hoping it was true. “I'll take it up a notch the next time out. I didn't need to tire myself out too much ... you know, with my appointment and all.”
The spontaneous explanation seemed enough to satisfy Adam. “Oh yeah. Good thinking. Wouldn't want you to do that. All right then. I'm about to go for mine now, so I'll see you next week, dude. Okay?”
“Yeah. See ya,” Neil replied. Between
Doc
and
dude
, he'd take Doc any day.
Shaylynn only lived about twelve miles from Neil. His first thought was to jump off on the Glenwood Road exit, which would get him to her area quicker. But considering the kind of trouble he was in, Neil bypassed it and merged on the Covington Highway exit instead. That was closer to his home, and if he had a prayer of making amends with Shaylynn today, he'd need to go all out. His sweatshirt, jeans, and gym shoes weren't going to do. He needed to come correct, and Neil knew the kind of gear she appreciated seeing him in: the kind of clothes he wore when she seemed not to be able to keep her hands off of him.
When he pulled into the driveway of his three-bedroom home, Neil didn't bother to open the garage door. This would be a quick stop. He'd already had a shower, and it shouldn't take more than half an hour to get changed. Neil let himself in, tossed his keys and his jacket on the sofa, and disappeared inside of his master bedroom, peeling off his shirt en route. Twenty-three minutes later, he emerged freshly shaven and dressed in a pair of pressed Calvin Klein khaki slacks and a black, short-sleeved Perry Ellis shirt that showed off his muscle tone. A pair of polished black Florsheim Brinsons had taken the place of his Air Jordans, and he smelled of L'Eau d'Issey by Issey Miyake.
Neil took one last look at himself in the circular mirror mounted on his living room wall, rubbed his hands over the short hair he had just brushed, and then reached for the keys and jacket that he'd thrown on the sofa earlier. When he heard his doorbell ring, he froze.
Not now
. This visitor's timing couldn't be worse. Neil had places to go and people to meet, but with his truck being parked out front in plain sight, it was hard to pretend that he wasn't there. His only option was to get rid of them fast. He wasn't expecting any deliveries, he wasn't buying anything, and he wasn't converting to any new religions; so this would be a very short conversation.
“Shay?” Neil's eyes stretched when he swung open the door. He certainly wasn't expecting to see her. “What's the matter, suga?” Her eyes were red and puffy. She'd obviously been crying, and she looked to be on the verge of tears again. Neil wanted to reach out and grab her, but unsure of whether his embrace would be welcome, he restrained himself. “What's the matter?” he asked again.
Shaylynn gasped before blurting, “Oh, Solomon ... I'm so sorry!”
They were the only words she managed before falling into Neil's chest. His arms quickly responded, wrapping around her, and then pulling her inside his home and out of the cold. Why was she sorry? Neil's mind raced to catch up on a conversation that they'd never even had. He wanted to ask Shaylynn why she was apologizing, but now just didn't seem like the right time for a questionnaire. Her tears were falling heavily. She was crying like she'd mistakenly run over Neil's beloved cocker spaniel, but he knew that couldn't be it, because he didn't have a cocker spaniel.
Together they stood in the space directly in front of the front door, her sobbing and him comforting. When her weeping increased, Neil tightened his hold, wondering what on earth had brought on this flood. He had seen Shaylynn cry before, but never like this. He couldn't think of anything that would cause a meltdown like this except maybe ...
Neil's heart pounded, and he had to pry her away from the grip she had around his waist. “Shay ... Shay, where's Chase?” He lifted her chin and forced her to look him in the face. “What is it? Did something happen to Chase?”
Her eyes were a watery, red mess when she shook her head in reply. It took her a moment to say the words that matched the gesture, but she finally did. “No. He's fine. He's ... he's with your mom,” she said between gasps.
Ella Mae had Chase? Now Neil was doubly confused. Why did his mother have Chase this early on a Saturday morning? This had to be serious if Shaylynn had driven her son all the way to Powder Springs. “He's with my mom? Why?” Neil gently led Shaylynn to the sofa and sat down next to her. They hadn't sat there together since Tuesday night. It felt good to have her in his arms again, but her wrecked emotions worried Neil. He used his thumbs to wipe tears from both Shaylynn's eyes. “What's the matter, suga?” He reverted to his original question that had never gotten answered.
She gasped a few more times, like a little girl trying to catch her breath after a hard cry. She sat up straight, but turned her eyes away from him when she said, “I asked Ms. Ella Mae to keep him so I could talk to you.”
This sounded major. Neil wanted to offer to take her coat, but if this was what he thought it was, she probably wouldn't be sticking around long. Neil felt his insides tense. Was she about to officially end their relationship? Is that why she was so broken? Was she apologizing in advance of the “It's not you, it's me” speech that she was preparing to deliver? Neil didn't want to think the worst, but in light of the picture sitting before him, he didn't know what else it could be. He wanted to tell her to go on with what she wanted to talk to him about, but if it was what he suspected, Neil didn't want to hear it. He pulled his hands from her face and slowly laid them in his lap. His heartbeat was slowing to a snail's pace as though it were preparing to stop beating all together.
“I would have come by earlier, but I couldn't even figure out what to say.” She wrung her hands as she spoke. “I just want you to know that it wasn't what you thought. I promise, that wasn't what I was trying to do.”
With narrowed eyes, Neil searched Shaylynn's face and saw new tears trail down each of her cheeks. The hole of confusion was getting deeper and wider. What was she talking about? As loud as the question echoed in his head, he wasn't quite ready to verbalize it, so he sat quietly and allowed her to continue.
“I didn't realize what happened Tuesday night until I had left here,” she said. “Actually, it was Thursday before it all came clear to me.” Shaylynn sniffed, and then blew out a lungful of air as though saying what she was trying to say was one of the hardest things she'd ever done. Even as she continued, she still refused to make eye contact. “I knew something was wrong when you started avoiding me and wouldn't answer or return my calls.”
“I'm sorry,” Neil jumped in. “That was stupid and childish of me, butâ”
“No.” Shaylynn shook her head. “I mean, it may not have been the way to handle it, but I understand.”
She did? Neil's eyebrows furrowed. “You do?”
Shaylynn nodded. “If I were in your place, and you had done what I did ... or what you
thought
I did ... I wouldn't have known how to handle it either. I probably would have cut you off cold turkey too.” She eased her hands on top of his and squeezed. “I promise I wasn't trying to ...” She shook her head and started again. “I wasn't trying to seduce you, Neil. I wasn't trying to get you in bed. I promise; I wasn't.”
Get me in bed? What on earth?
“When I said ... well, you know ... and when I kissed you like that, I wasn't trying to cross any lines. I think I just got caught up in the moment.” Her voice quivered. “The candles ... the music ... everything was so romantic, and you had made the night so perfect. I think I just got lost in you for a minute, and ...” She finally looked up at him, and her eyes were pleading. “I'm sorry.”
Neil's heart swelled. The album on the record player in his ears was skipping, and all he was hearing over and over again was
I think I just got lost in you ... I think I got lost in you ... I think I got lost in you
. Outside of “I love you,” that had to be the most touching thing a woman had ever said to him. “I ... uh ... I ...” He was literally at a loss for words.
“Please,” she added. “Please don't be mad at me anymore. I didn't mean it like it sounded. I wouldn't try to jeopardize either of our integrity like that. You believe me, don't you, Solomon? I didn't mean it like it sounded.”
Neil saw the anguish in her eyes, and it tore at his heart. He reached up and touched Shaylynn's cheek, then ran his fingers through her long, braided hair. What she'd said to him that night, and the impassioned kiss that followed, had absolutely nothing to do with the last four days, and he was on the verge of telling her so when reality hit him like a ton of bricks. Shaylynn's misinterpretation was the key to the door of the doghouse in which he thought he was indefinitely confined. A strange relief washed over Neil. He no longer had to concern himself with how to admit he'd been a jealous, moronic nincompoop.
Looking into Shaylynn's soggy eyes, Neil wanted so desperately to tell her the truth. But he couldn't. He just couldn't. This was the opportunity of a lifetime, and he had to grab it while he could. It was his turn to break eye contact. If he were going to ride the wave of this charade, he couldn't do it while looking into her eyes. “It's okay, suga,” he whispered, pulling her into his chest and holding her there. “I'm not mad. Let's just forget it. I believe you.”
A part of him was happy, and a part of him was sad, but all of Neil was disappointed in himself. Deacon Burgess was right. He
was
a coward ... and a dummy.
TEN
With Christmas falling on a Sunday, most churches in the area decided to close their doors so that families could stay home and celebrate the holiday together. But that wasn't the case with Kingdom Builders Christian Center. Pastor Charles Loather Jr. said Christmas was the day that most believers celebrated the birth of Christ, and it just didn't make sense to him that on the day set aside to recognize Jesus' birth, people locked up the church and celebrated everything except that as they sat home eating, talking, laughing, exchanging gifts, watching television, and then eating some more.
“When I was growing up,” CJ said, trying to wind down the spirited Christmas message that he had just preached, “nobody could throw a party like my daddy. Charles Loather Sr. would put together the absolute best birthday parties. My mama would make the cake, but that was as much as she did, because even she knew that when it came to celebrating birthdays, my daddy was the man for the job. And going to a park or a restaurant on my birthday every now and then was cool, but there just wasn't no party like the ones held at my daddy's house.”
Neil broke into a grin because he knew where CJ was going with this analogy.
“What I'm trying to say,” he continued, “is celebrating Christmas at your house once in a while might be all right.” Many of the audience members jumped to their feet, and if CJ said much more on the subject, they looked ready to start the shout-a-thon they'd had earlier all over again. “But since it's Sunday anyhow,” their pastor challenged, “what better place to hold Jesus' birthday party than in His Daddy's house? The invitation sent from heaven said that RSVPs weren't necessary and walk-ins were welcome; so come on in, 'cause can't nobody throw a party like
His
Father.”
“Go 'head, Pastor,” Neil heard himself say.
“We love to say, âJesus is the reason for the season,”' CJ pointed out, “but is He truly at the forefront of our minds on this day?”
Ouch!
Neil felt like that one was tailor-made for him. The plans he had for later today had been priority in his mind all day long.
“I'm gonna just let that one marinade, 'cause I'm done,” CJ said, using a blue hand towel to wipe perspiration from his face. “We're just about ready to go home, but we have to pray first.” He pointed toward the center section of the church. “Didn't our youth department do a beautiful job reenacting the birth of our Lord?”
A collective, loud “Amen” echoed in the sanctuary. It was followed by rousing applause. Some of the members of the congregation remained on their feet, giving the youngsters a standing ovation.
From the deacon's corner, Neil's eyes focused on Chase, who sat on the front row along with some of the others who had actively participated in the dramatization. Chase had played the part of one of the wise men who sought the Christ child. He only had one line, but he recited it well. He was still clad in his white sheet and headdress, and in his lap he held the box that was supposed to contain the gold that was brought to the manger scene. Chase caught Neil looking at him and smiled. Returning the grin, Neil threw up his hand and motioned like he was giving the boy a high five from across the room. Chase raised his hand and did the same. How ironic that they were both left-handed. Neil had often wondered if Emmett was a lefty too, but he'd never bothered to ask. It didn't matter.
In Neil's heart, Chase was
his
son, and in the glove compartment of his truck, he had a box tucked away that contained a little gold of its own that would make it official. Over the two weeks that had passed since mending things with Shaylynn, their relationship had strengthened. If it were possible, Neil had fallen even deeper in love; so much so, that his dreams of her were bordering on becoming unrighteous. There was just too much adoration and attraction for her bottled up on the inside of him, and Neil desired to share it with her ... in every way. Margaret would have a field day if she knew that. She'd repeatedly warned him of what could happen, but Neil wasn't about to continue like this. He had no intention of starting the New Year without Shaylynn as a fiancee, and their engagement couldn't last more than six months. If it drew out any longer, he'd explode. Of course, all his plans were contingent upon her accepting his proposal, and Neil knew that there was a possibility that she wouldn't, but he had to trust his heart on this one. It was time to go for it.
School was out for the holiday, so Neil had spent much of Friday morning at Deacon Burgess's home, delivering Teena's weekly pay and then sitting with her over cups of hot coffee and fresh-baked cinnamon rolls, discussing Homer's well-being. Physically, he was doing about as well as could be expected of a man of his advanced years. Mentally, though, the outlook wasn't so bright. It concerned Neil how quickly Homer's mind was deteriorating. It didn't seem that long ago that Alzheimer's was just beginning to creep in. Neil wasn't an expert on the subject, but he'd always thought the progression was much slower. Over the past ten months or so, the change in Homer had been drastic.
Not only was he chronically forgetful, but now they had to concern themselves with him wandering off if no one was around. There were days when he still thought he could get in his car and drive himself, and days when he thought he could turn on the stove and cook his own meals. Those were no-no's, and in the past two weeks, Teena had virtually moved in the man's house so that he could be under constant surveillance. She said she didn't mind the change. For her, it wasn't exactly an inconvenience. Deacon Burgess's house was larger and nicer than hers. Moving in with him rescued her from the long commutes to and from his home each day and from hearing the noises of the planes as they took off and landed at Hartsfield-Jackson Airport, which was located so near her apartment complex that she rarely had a peaceful night's sleep.
For the duration of Neil's visit, Homer sat on the living room sofa, watching the Game Show Network while eating his favorite egg salad finger sandwiches that Teena had made for him. He still had a healthy appetite, and that was good. Neil sat on the sofa with him for a while and tried to have a normal conversation, but most of the things Homer would say in reply didn't make much sense. However, just as Neil was ending his visit and was preparing to walk out the door, Homer said seven words that stopped him in his tracks.
“You bought back that girl's ring yet?”
When Neil turned from the door to face the living room, Homer was looking him square in the eyes, but only for a moment before the old man shoved a sandwich in his mouth and shifted his eyes back at the television screen. Neil had lost him before he ever had a chance to respond. It was easy to see from the far-away expression on Homer's face that he was again back in his own world ... population one. But his momentary sanity was enough to send Neil straight to the jewelry store. This time, he didn't go to Jared; he went back to Menorah Jewelers and was elated to find that the ring that had initially captured his attention was still there waiting. Like it didn't want to be purchased by anyone but him. Like it had been made for Shaylynn's finger only. Just as in times past, Rabbi Ezra Bernstein greeted Neil warmly by name and with a knowing smile, but this time when Neil walked out the door, he didn't walk out empty-handed.
“In John 1:1, the Bible tells us,
âIn the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.'
So Jesus Christ is the Word,” CJ stressed, getting Neil's full attention once more. “That being the case, when He came to us wrapped in swaddling clothing and lying in that manger, that was the Word made flesh. Amen?”
“Amen,” several voices replied.
Despite the fact that CJ had closed his Bible said that he was finished sermonizing for the day, a familiar female voice in the crowd called out, “You preaching good, Pastor.”
Neil couldn't see Margaret, but he knew it was her. Apparently, CJ did too.
“What can I say, Sister Dasher? It's what I do.” CJ's quick wit drew a wave of laughter from the audience, and without skipping a beat, he continued. “People could actually see Jesus. Do you know how awesome that had to be? With their own eyes, they could see the Son of God. The Christ Child. The Great I Am. The everlasting Promise. The Word. They didn't just hear about Him. They
saw
Him. They watched Him grow. Anybody could converse face-to-face with Him. Anybody could see Him perform miracles. Anybody could hear Him preach and teach. Anybody could touch Him as He passed by. Anybody could follow Him from city to city. Anybody
could ...
yet so many chose not to.” CJ shook his head, and again used his towel to wipe residue sweat from his forehead. “Imagine that. Seeing Jesus Christ in the flesh, but still not believing.”
“Lawd, ha' mercy. Imagine that.”
Neil looked at Deacon Burgess, who sat right beside him. He had passionately muttered the words like he fully grasped what CJ had said, but Neil saw no connection in his face. He looked as distant now as he'd looked all service long. Neil reached over and patted Homer on the knee. The old deacon looked at him and gave a mechanical smile.
“People who saw Jesus didn't believe in Him,” CJ continued, “yet He continues to require that we, who have never seen Him, will trust and believe in Him. We have to walk by faith, and not by sight. It may not be easy, but when we do it, God rewards us in ways unimaginable. In John 20:29, speaking to Thomas, the disciple who said he'd never believe Christ had risen from the dead until he could see the nail piercings in His hands, Jesus said,
âBecause thou hast seen me, thou hast believed: blessed are they who have not seen, and yet have believed.”'
CJ held the cordless microphone in his right hand, and stretched his left hand toward his audience. “Do you believe?”
“Amen,” they said in chorus.
“Do you believe?” CJ challenged again.
“Amen.” The reply was louder this time.
“This child who was born of a virgin during this time that we celebrate as Christmas. This very God, yet very man, who healed the sick, raised the dead, opened blind eyes, unclogged deaf ears. This Son of God, who hung on the cross and died for the sins of the entire world. Do you trust Him? Do you follow Him? Do you believe the One you have not seen?”
More chants of “Amen” filled the edifice, and Neil felt chills as the Spirit filled his heart.
“If you don't know Christ as your Lord and Savior, there's no better day than today.” CJ slammed his hand against the cover of his Bible that still lay closed on the book board and said, “God Almighty! There's no better gift that you can give Jesus on His birthday than your heart.” When CJ said those words, he turned and looked at Neil. Neil knew that look. It didn't happen often, but when it did, he knew what was coming next. “Come up, please, Deacon Taylor. I need you to minister in song as we open the altar for lost souls on this Christmas Sunday.”
There was a time, not too long ago, when Neil would fight CJ on this. Everybody who knew Neil well, and even some who didn't, was aware that Neil didn't like singing as much now as he did when his brother Dwayne was alive. Neil had an amazing voice, but as far as he was concerned, he wasn't a solo artist. He was one half of a duo, and without Dwayne, it just wasn't the same. Still, singing was in his blood, and it was a gift and calling that God had given him that had blessed many; even since Dwayne's passing. And the congregation relished those rare moments when Deacon Taylor's gift was called upon. Neil had stopped giving grief to his pastor every time he dared to put him on the spot, because it had become clear, even to him, that the only time CJ did it was at the leading of the Holy Spirit.
He slipped from his seat and began his trek to the podium, knowing exactly what he was going to sing. He had been humming the tune for much of the past two weeks. It had come on the radio following the “One Chance” song by The Williams Brothers that he'd heard during his ride home from the gym that Saturday. As it turned out, the station was playing a marathon of songs by the group that day in honor of their fiftieth anniversary, and this one was a perfect fit for today's sermon.
Amid applause and cheers, Neil walked onto the platform and accepted the mic from his pastor. Without introductory words of any kind, he looked toward heaven and began singing the words, “It's amazing to me ... all the things that you do for me ... and I've never seen your face ...” Neil continued the anthem, telling Jesus how much it would satisfy his curiosity on the day that he was finally able to see Him face-to-face. He sang of how awesome it was that Jesus would go so far as to die for his sins and give him the gift of everlasting life, even though he didn't even know Him as the Son of God. The words of the song were powerful. When Neil brought his eyes down to the crowd, he saw the floor filling with people, mostly from the youth department, who were standing or kneeling at the altar, giving their lives to Christ as he sang.
Neil's heart did a special two-step when he saw that Chase was among them. Still in his wise man get-up, the boy had his eyes closed and his hands lifted, and CJ was standing in front of him, dabbing blessed oil on the child's forehead in preparation to pray. Still singing the words of “Never Seen Your Face,” Neil searched the audience. He knew when he found Shaylynn, she'd be weeping, and sure enough, there she was. Theresa had gone to stand beside her and was allowing Shaylynn to cry on her shoulder as they embraced. Neil could only imagine her delight at seeing her son make such a monumental decision at such an early age and on such a pivotal day. The only thing that could make this day more beautiful was a marriage proposal, and Neil had never been more ready.