Heaven Right Here Read online

  “Oh, excuse me. I, uh, thought I heard you come in,” she said.

  “Yeah. Honestly I was avoiding this moment. And then I realized how silly and immature that was. I love you, Hope. You’re what I have most wanted in this world. That’s when I knew I had to stop dodging you and come in here to have a straight-out conversation. I need to know what is going on and how I can help you.”

  They walked back into the bedroom together. Cy took off his suit jacket and lay it across the bed. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the first few buttons. Hope watched his actions while clasping and unclasping her hands. Finally she walked over to the suite’s sitting area, where he joined her.

  “Would you like some—” She almost choked on the word tea and changed the question. “Something to drink?”

  Cy almost smiled. Sharing a cup of chamomile or passionfruit or one of their other favorite flavors was almost a nightly ritual. Now it would forever be linked to an ice-cold pitcher tossed in a hotel suite.

  “No, I’m fine.”

  Hope began. “I talked to Vivian on the way home and made an appointment to see a therapist she recommended.”

  Cy eyed her critically. “That’s good.”

  “And I talked with my mom. I thought it might be good to get away for a few days, but we’ve got rehearsals for the dance troupe.”

  “Nothing is more important than you being okay, Hope. I couldn’t care less whether you finish the dance for Darius. In fact, maybe that responsibility is too much right now. Maybe it’s too soon.”

  Hope nodded. “Maybe. I’m having lunch with Vivian next week after I see the therapist.”

  Cy steepled his fingers under his chin and looked at Hope for another long moment. “You and I need to talk about all this right now.”

  “Cy, I don’t have anything for you other than ‘I’m sorry.’ This was without a doubt the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. I didn’t listen to rhyme or reason, just went off half cocked the way I’ve seen other women do. The way Millicent did at Kingdom. I’ve always said I could never understand what would drive a woman to do such crazy things. Well, now I know.

  “And even more than throwing that tea on Millicent—and I truly hope she forgives me for that—I’m sorry that I ruined your surprise to me. You’ve been working so hard, all these meetings and long hours, to give me exactly what I wanted. And here I go and ruin everything with my jealousies and insecurities, emotions I keep saying are under control … but they’re not.

  “Cy … can you forgive me?”

  At any other time, this would have been the moment in which Cy walked over, scooped Hope up in his arms, looked into her eyes, and melted her soul with an “Of course, baby.” Now, however, was not one of those times.

  Instead he got up and began taking off his shirt. “I forgive you, Hope. But this can’t be forgotten; it has to be dealt with. Let’s see how things look after you’ve met with the therapist. Now, it’s been a very long and trying day for the both of us. I’m going to take a shower, and if you don’t mind, I think I’ll sleep in the guest room.”

  Hope’s look was crestfallen. She and Cy had never been under the same roof and in separate beds.

  “I’m sorry, but it’s just the way I feel right now. I love you, Hope, but I need space.”

  38

  Tempt a Godly Man

  The clickity-clack of Vivian’s heels on the church parking lot pavement was in stark contrast to the unusual quiet of this sunny and warm southern winter Saturday, Cali style. It was as if the entire neighborhood had embraced the first lady’s somber mood, reflective and introspective, balancing a myriad of challenges on the shoulders of her St. John suit.

  The quiet was almost thankfully broken up as she entered the youth center, where the sound of Darius’s “Looks Like Reign” bounced off the rafters. Melody, the obvious troupe leader in Hope’s absence, was front and center, executing an intricate step-and-turn movement for the other dancers to follow. They all stopped as they saw their first lady approach.

  “Hello, ladies,” Vivian said.

  A variety of responses followed. “Hello, Sister Vivian.”

  “Hi, Mrs. Montgomery.”

  Finally, a shout-out from the ringmaster. “Hello, Lady V. Where’s Ms. T?” Melody said, referencing the nickname they’d given their unasked-for chaperone.

  “That’s why I’m here. She had an emergency and won’t be here today. She asked me to send her love and to tell you she has full confidence that we can carry on in her absence. I’m hoping her faith in you was not misplaced.”

  Again, a variety of responses ensued, the totality of which amounted to “We got this.”

  “Is Hope—I mean, Mrs. Taylor—I mean, Ms. T—going to be okay?” one girl asked.

  “Just a little family business,” Vivian said. “So here’s what I need you to do. I need you ladies to start from the top and show me what you’ve got. If things look as though they’ve progressed sufficiently, I’ll leave you to rehearse on your own.”

  The girls lined up quickly. They couldn’t wait to show their first lady how tight their routine was. Melody stood in the center and counted off. Vivian pushed the PLAY button, and “Looks Like Reign” once again filled the room.

  The first verse of the song accompanied Melody’s solo dance. It was a combination of passion and raw talent, and Vivian could see where some of Hope’s signature moves were being incorporated into the group. Halfway through the verse, Natasha joined Melody. The six remaining young women moved in sync during the chorus, and this sequence continued through the second verse. During the song’s bridge, Melody was once again featured.

  “Reign: realizing everything’s in God alignment … reign

  I’m in Him, and He’s in me, and there is no denying

  I have the victory as long as I believe, come what may,

  That when the morning comes my life will look like reign… .

  Reign over trouble, over doubts over fears … reign, reign …”

  When the ladies finished their routine, Vivian clapped politely. She could see from the expressions on their faces that they were quite pleased with what they’d created. Vivian was too, for the most part.

  “Great job, ladies,” she said sincerely. “I especially like the sign language that’s been incorporated. Very nice.” Vivian knew that this too was Hope’s signature. But she wisely kept the praise generic.

  “Melody, may I speak to you for a moment?”

  Melody followed Vivian to a corner of the center.

  “You really liked it, huh?”

  “I loved it. You ladies will soon exemplify the godly woman God exalts. But there’s something, Melody, that I want you to be acutely aware of.”

  The slightest frown scampered across Melody’s youthful complexion. “What’s that?”

  Vivian decided on a direct approach. “You are a very attractive young lady, rapidly becoming a woman of God. Your body is reflecting these changes, so it is imperative that you are conscious of the signals you are sending with your movements.”

  “What’s that mean?” Melody asked in a sulking tone.

  Oh. She wants to play boo-boo the foo-foo. Well, here we go. “It means that when you stick your breasts out like this,” Vivian demonstrated, “or your butt out like this,” she mimicked Melody perfectly, “that movement may tempt a godly man in a way he doesn’t want or need to be tempted.”

  “Was I doing that?” Melody asked the question, knowing the answer as it escaped her lips.

  Vivian let her know she knew it too. “Look, girl. I know you find it hard to believe, but I was once your age. And I wanted to make sure the boys noticed me. Now I’m not saying this is your MO, but because you are such a beautiful girl, you may get a type of attention you don’t want. There is a difference between performing and praise dancing,” Vivian continued. “You are dancing for God, and your body is His temple. So make sure the moves you make are ones for which He gets glory. Understand?”

  Melody n
odded, her eyes downcast. Forget you, witch. I’m not dancing for you or God. I’m dancing for Darius.

  “Okay, good. Now go work on your steps. You’re an obvious leader and doing a good job. I’m proud of you.”

  Yeah, whatever.

  Vivian realized how important it was to instill self-esteem in these ladies and to offer praise so they didn’t go looking for validation in all the wrong places. Still, she made a mental note to talk to Hope about implementing the praisedance training courses that had preceded the Angels of Hope praise troupe’s debut at Mount Zion Progressive, the church run by Vivian and Derrick’s best friends, the Brooks.

  “What did she say?” Natasha asked as Melody joined the girls in the circle.

  “She just told me how good we were,” Melody responded. “C’mon, y’all, let’s hurry up and finish this so we can go over to Darius’s house.”

  Thirty minutes later, that’s where they were. True to his word, Darius had finally made good on his promise to have the girls over. It was almost unheard of for Bo not to cook, but he didn’t agree with Darius’s befriending of Melody. A dozen boxes from Pizza Hut was the silent protest Bo had had delivered before retiring to the bedroom.

  Melody was in seventh heaven as she soaked in her surroundings—the landscaped backyard, complete with pool and Jacuzzi. If she played her cards right, all this could be hers. And she intended to play the bump out of her deck of cards. She waited until the other girls were deep in discussion about who said what about whomever, and then she sidled up to Darius, who was checking his e-mails.

  “I did something for you,” she whispered. “Can I show you?”

  “What is it?”

  “Our latest dance video. I hope that if you like it I can maybe be in the next one you make. But can we go to another room? It’s kinda bright out here.”

  Darius eyed Melody before replying, “Come on in, ladies, I’m getting ready to watch your routine.”

  How am I going to seduce him if I never get him to myself? Still, she pasted a smile on top of her carefully cultivated carefree attitude and followed Darius into the house. They walked through the sunroom and down the hall to the combined library and theater. Melody felt as if she had died and gone to heaven as she watched the man of her dreams in his low-riding shorts and black tank top. He looked the part of who he was—a superstar.

  They entered the room, and Darius asked for the DVD. He pushed a button, and the watercolor painting lifted to reveal a large flat-screen. He went into a small room just off the main area to insert the DVD, and soon the rough sounds of girls talking filled the room. Darius adjusted the volume as he joined Melody on the couch. She was thrilled he’d chosen to sit next to her!

  Melody squelched the urge to watch Darius instead of the video. She wanted to know if he was focused on her. She didn’t have to wait long to find out.

  “That was good, y’all,” he said once the song had ended.

  “You really think so?” Natasha asked.

  “Yes, I do. In fact, if y’all keep behaving yourselves, I just might put you in a video.”

  “All of us?” one of the girls shouted.

  “We’ll see,” Darius responded. He pushed a button on the remote to stop the DVD and another to shut off the television. The watercolor picture slid back in place, and Darius stood. “Okay, ladies, I’ve got work to do. Hope you enjoyed yourselves.”

  Various answers rang out as the girls thanked their host. Melody hung back as they walked toward the door. She didn’t want to leave.

  “Can I stay a little longer, by myself?” she asked boldly. “I want to talk to you about the fan club and about becoming a part of your business. The other girls are just doing this because I asked them. But I seriously want to help you.”

  Darius looked at the sincerity on Melody’s face and almost felt sorry for her because, one, she actually thought he needed her help and, two, she thought there might be more than one way she could help him. Didn’t she know he was gay? And what was it about straight women who felt they could make a gay man straight? At the end of the day it didn’t matter. Even if she wasn’t too young, which she was, Darius wasn’t interested.

  “Thank you,” he answered as he gently led her around him and out the door where the others stood waiting. “But Bo is all the help I need.”

  39

  Guys and God

  It had been a while since Stacy had gone to the early morning service, but on this slightly cool December Sunday, she was one of the first to arrive. In her heart she knew that the change to live for God had come before she’d felt the lump, but she had to admit her fear of having cancer definitely made her all the more determined. She turned the corner to the nursery and was surprised to see Vivian coming down the hall.

  “Good morning, Stacy. You’re here early.”

  “Good morning, Sistah Viv,” Stacy responded.

  “Is everything okay?” Vivian asked.

  Stacy hadn’t meant to share anything with her first lady, but before she could form a yes with her mouth, tears threatened.

  “Get Darius settled and then come in my office,” Vivian said.

  “It’s okay, Sistah Viv. I’m okay.”

  “Did that sound like a question, Stacy Gray? Now, don’t make me come look for you if you’re not down there in five minutes!”

  Stacy managed a weak smile with her okay.

  A half hour later, Stacy entered the sanctuary feeling grateful that she’d bumped into Vivian. The first lady had helped to calm her fears and then prayed with her. Stacy informed Vivian that she wanted to get more involved in the ministry. They discussed her rejoining the choir, helping with the Sanctity of Sisterhood seminars, or participating in an area of the worship arts. When Pastor Derrick spoke on the fruitfulness of forgiveness, Stacy knew God was talking to her and vowed to do one more thing before leaving church.

  Hope walked over to her pew as soon as church was over. “Hey, girl. I called you this morning. Wanted to invite you out to eat after service.”

  “Over at the Montgomerys’?”

  “No, Cy and I have been wanting to try this new soul-food restaurant. The menu is completely vegetarian, but people swear it tastes like real meat.”

  “Yeah, the only people who think soy taste like meat are vegetarians who haven’t eaten meat in years.”

  Hope laughed. “So you want to come?”

  Stacy looked up and saw Darius walking toward the side door that led to the executive offices. “Hold up. I need to do something.”

  Hope looked in the direction Stacy had fled. She fought the urge to roll her eyes. Girl, when are you going to stop chasing after Darius?

  Vivian walked up. “Hope, can you come back to the office for a moment? There’s something I need to discuss right quick.”

  Hope reached for her phone. “Let me tell Cy where I’m at.”

  “No need to. He’s already back there with Derrick. Come on.”

  Instead of going to Derrick’s office, Vivian walked into her smaller one just down the hall. Hope quickly texted Cy that she was in the suite and then sat back to hear what was on Vivian’s mind.

  She didn’t have to wait long. “I’m afraid I made a hasty decision I now need to retract,” Vivian said as she sat down next to Hope. “It’s the dance troupe. We’re moving too fast. The girls need to be taught before they perform. They need to understand the difference between dancing for guys and dancing for God.”

  Just outside the executive office entrance, another type of understanding was taking place.

  “Just what exactly are you saying, Stacy?”

  “I am saying you don’t have to continue the lawsuit. I won’t fight you anymore in spending time with your son. And I won’t come between him and his inevitable relationship with your—with Bo. He’s your child, and he needs to be in your life. He needs to know his father, and I need to get out of the way of your relationship.”

  Darius raised his brows with a skeptical look. “What brought on thi
s change of heart?”

  “A lot of things. But mostly that what I was doing wasn’t right.” Stacy looked directly into Darius’s eyes, her own shining with sincerity. “I had my priorities all out of order. But I’m changing that. I’ve been waiting on God for things to get better, and He’s been waiting on me. And I’m sorry, Darius, for everything.”

  “I accept your apology, Stacy. And of course I’m ecstatic to know I can have a relationship with my son without all the drama. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, you know, to be able to have a civil relationship and help raise our son.”

  “Well, from now on, you’ll have that.” Stacy turned to go before tears threatened to fall.

  “Wait a minute, Stacy. Is there more to this story? It’s like you … Are you okay?”

  Why does everyone keep asking me that? Do I look like I have cancer? Stacy chose attitude over fear. “Why? Don’t I look okay?”

  “Sure, it’s just that … Never mind. Is Little Man in the nursery?”

  Stacy nodded.

  “Okay. I’ll see you on Tuesday.”

  Stacy left the sanctuary and headed for the parking lot. She wasn’t in the mood for food or company. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop thinking about the test results and what would happen if the biopsy was malignant. Would they have to do a mastectomy? And what if it had spread to the other breast or other parts of her body? A cancer diagnosis was serious. People died.

  After she’d driven a while, she had second thoughts. Maybe being by herself was the last thing she needed. There was too much time to think. She needed somebody to take her mind off her troubles, and she instantly knew who to call.

  “Y’all heifahs about to feel my wrath,” Frieda said upon answering.

  “What?”

  “What?” Frieda mimicked. “You cows forget about our weekly powwow? I couldn’t catch you or Hope yesterday!”

  “Oh, what’s the matter, Shabach back in Atlanta? ’Cause that’s the only reason you’d be trying to have lunch with your friends.”

  “Forget you, heifah.”

  “You know I’m right.”

  “Damn skippy, and I won’t even lie about that. And to be honest, I’m glad he’s gone.”