Dance Into Destiny (22 page)

S
hara rounded the track, pushing herself a little harder. When she completed four miles, she looked at her watch. Her time was better than yesterday, but still not where she wanted it to be. As she did her cool down laps, she slipped into her usual routine of talking to God.

So many things had been on her mind lately she wanted to talk to Him about. She was excited about Keeva starting her dance classes. The basketball programs were in full swing. The grant would be reviewed soon, and if awarded, could make a big difference in how much the church could expand their programs. She sat on a patch of grass to do her cool down stretches. When she lifted her head up from a hamstring stretch, Quinton was there, looking down at her.

“Oh!” She jumped.

“Sorry, didn't mean to scare you.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Why do I always seem to evoke that response in you? I came to run. Is that okay?”

“I'm sorry. You scared me. I'm not used to anybody else being out here this time of the morning.” She stretched the other hamstring.

“Yeah, I'm going at it a little earlier today. I had no idea Atlanta would be this hot. I may have to switch my running time.”

“Hot? You ain't seen nothing yet. Besides, this can't be as bad as Orlando.” She stood up.

“That's true, but I was only in Orlando for a minute. I'm from Chicago, remember?” Quinton smiled. “Who were you talking to?”

Shara froze. “How long have you been here?”

“Long enough to watch you have a serious conversation with nobody else around. It's okay. I talk to myself, too.”

“I wasn't talking to myself,” she said shyly. “I was talking to God. I always do that at the end of my run.”

He stared at her with that intense gaze of his. “What were you talking about?”

“Stuff.”

“What stuff?” He looked into her eyes with a slight smile on his lips.

“Private stuff between me and God.” She stretched out her quads. “You know, stuff. Just praying for everything we're doing here and for the kids and for Pastor Kendrick and his family.”

I guess that's why you didn't want to take me running that morning.”

Shara frowned. “Huh?”

“Remember when I was here for my interview and Mother Hobbs suggested you pick me up to go running in the morning? You gave her the evilest look I've ever seen in my life.”

Shara covered her face with her hands. “You saw that?”

Quinton laughed and nodded.

“I didn't think you saw that.” She took her hands down and smiled. “It's not that I didn't want to run with you. I cherish my God-time, that's all. My day isn't right without it.”

Shara stood on her toes and stretched her calves. “What?”

Quinton was still staring at her. “Nothing. I've never met anyone like you before. That's all.”

Shara smoothed back her hair and looked at her watch. “I better hit the showers. I gotta get to class. See you later.” She headed for the locker room.

She took a quick shower, put on her clothes and did her hair and makeup as quickly as she could. She grabbed her bag and headed out the door.

“Oh!” She jumped and almost dropped her bag.

Quinton was standing outside the door.

“Do you purposely sneak up on me and scare me all the time?” Shara put her hand on her chest, waiting for her heart to slow back down to normal.

“Sorry. It's not on purpose. Are you always so jumpy?”

“Only when people sneak up on me.”

He laughed nervously. He dug his hands in his pockets and stared down at his feet. “I was wondering if you wanted to get some dinner tonight.”

Shara bit her lip. “I . . . uummm. I don't know. I . . .”

“What is up with that?”

“What's up with what?”

“I feel like I'm constantly asking you to go somewhere with me and you're always saying no. Can't you cut a brotha a little slack? Do you have to make this so difficult?”

“Make
what
so difficult?”

Quinton looked at his feet. “You know, I just moved here. I don't really have any friends. I'm trying to get to know some people and hang out.”

“You've got Anthony, Malcolm and all those guys. If I'm making things so difficult, why don't you hang out with them?”

Quinton's voice was soft. “I don't want to be with them. I want to be with you.”

Shara stood there not saying anything, looking at him.

Quinton took one step closer to her. She didn't move back, and he took one more step, ever so slight.

He reached out his hand and gently stroked her cheek with his finger.

Shara started breathing faster. Her lips trembled.

He stopped them with his.

Shara could hardly breathe. His lips were so soft and sweet. Her knees went to mush. He kissed her gently and then moved back to look into her eyes again. He seemed to be waiting for a response. The look in his eyes told Shara he was as anxious as she was. She didn't want him to be. But she was frozen and couldn't say or do anything.

He stepped back and put his hand over his chest. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—”

Her tongue came unstuck. “Don't be.”

“Don't be what?”

“Sorry.”

He looked at her hopefully. “No?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Okay.” He smiled, biting his bottom lip.

“Okay.” She smiled, biting her top one.

They both stood there staring at each other.

Shara looked at her watch. “I . . . I better get to class. I'm already late.” She could feel him watching as she walked away. She took a deep breath and turned back around. “Seven o'clock.”

“What?”

“I'll meet you at the house at 7:00.” She smiled.

“What?”

“Dinner. You asked me to go out to dinner.”

“Oh! Yeah. Dinner. Okay. Seven is good. Seven is great. Seven is . . . perfect.”

“Okay, see you at seven then.”

“Yeah?

She nodded. “Yeah.”

E
very outfit Shara owned was strewn across her bed, hanging on her bathroom door, or in a rejected heap on the floor. She had lost count of the number of times she had changed. At the risk of being teased, she decided to call Keeva for help.

“Hello.” A male voice answered the phone.

“Oh! Can I . . . I'm sorry. This is Shara Anderson, a friend of Keeva's. Is she there?”

She thought she heard the man suck his teeth and take a tight breath. She was sure she heard pure venom in his voice when he said, “She's not available right now.”

“Oh. Okay, well, could you tell her . . . never mind.” Shara hung up the phone. What was his problem?

She flopped back on the bed, lying on her clothes.
Get over it, Shara. You're just going to dinner. Put on some clothes, get in the car and go.

She closed her eyes and tried to recapture the feeling of Quinton's lips against hers. She rubbed her cheek softly where his finger had caressed her. She sighed. The phone rang and brought her out of her reverie.

“Shara? Did you just call here?” It was Keeva, sounding irritated.

“Keeeeeeeeva!” Shara sang her name. “I'm so glad you called me back. I neeeeeed you.”

“What's wrong?”

“I looked all over for you at school today, but I couldn't find you.”

“Shara, what is going on?”

“He kissed me!”

“What?”

“Quinton kissed me.”

“I knew it! I told you! Oh my goodness!”

“Help me,” Shara whined.

“What's wrong, Shar?” Keeva's voice was excited and sympathetic at the same time.

“I'm supposed to meet him at Mother Hobbs and he's taking me to dinner but—”

“Oh my God! I knew it! I told you!”

“KEEVA! Please!”

“What's wrong? I thought this is what you wanted. Remember you said—”

“I KNOW!”

“Then what's the problem?”

“I don't know what to wear.” Shara described the scene in her bedroom. “Are you laughing? You're laughing. I can't believe you're laughing at me. KEEVA!”

“I'm sorry. Don't worry, girl. This is an easy one. Wear the brown.”

“What?”

“The brown outfit you wore when we saw Alvin Ailey. Remember that night?”

“Oooohhhh. Are you sure? You don't think it's too—?”

“Yes, I do, and that's exactly why I think you should wear it.”

“Keeva. I don't want to—”

“Shara. Trust me, okay. Have I ever steered you wrong?”

“No.”

“Would I steer you wrong on this?”

“I guess not,” Shara whined.

“What time are you supposed to be there? Do you want me to come do your makeup?”

“Seven.”

“Shara, it's 6:15! What are you doing?”

“Trying to decide what to wear.”

“Shara, get up, put on the brown outfit, put on some eyeliner and the spicy brown lipstick, and drive to Mother Hobbs house.”

“Okay.”

“Can you handle that?”

“Yes.”

Keeva laughed. “What's wrong?”

“I'm gonna do something dumb like trip and fall, or have broccoli sticking out of my teeth or I'm gonna say something stupid—”

“Shara, you're not. You're going to be absolutely ravishingly beautiful and you're going to sweep Quinton off his feet more than you already have and it's going to be wonderful. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now get dressed and go. Call me when you get in, no matter what time it is.”

“Yeah, right, so Mark can practically cuss me out again.”

“I'm sorry about that. He won't be here. He gets put out at night now.”

“Really? What happened?”

“Shara, you're procrastinating. I'm hanging up the phone now so you can get dressed. Have a beautiful time. You deserve it.”

“Keeva?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

S
hara rang Mother Hobbs' doorbell and stepped back. She was relieved Mother Hobbs answered the door.

“Well, sooky sooky now! Look at you, Miss Thang. You gon' mess that boy's head up looking like that.”

Shara put her finger to her lips. “Hush! Don't you
dare
embarrass me.”

“Child, please. Quinton can't hear me.” Mother Hobbs led her into the house. “He's upstairs back and forth between his room and the bathroom where he's been for the last hour. I've never seen a man take so long to get dressed.”

“Really?” Shara was vindicated to know he had experienced the same agony she had.

“I'll be right down,” they heard him call from upstairs.

“You look absolutely beautiful.” Mother Hobbs started to pat Shara's cheeks, but Shara pulled away.

“Ooowee. I'm sorry, Miss Thang. I didn't mean to mess up your makeup.”

“Mother Hobbs, please behave when Quinton comes downstairs. Don't tease me in front of him.”

“I would never do that.” Mother Hobbs studied Shara. “Look at you. You're all nervous. I don't know which one of y'all is worse.”

“Here I come.” Quinton could be heard from upstairs again.

Shara patted her curls. Mother Hobbs pulled her hands away from her hair. “You look fine. Relax.”

Quinton came down the steps. Shara bit her lip, then made herself stop so she wouldn't mess up her lipstick. He had on a pair of black slacks with an olive green knit shirt that hugged all the muscles in his chest and arms. Thankfully, he slipped a black sports jacket over it on the way down the steps. His mouth dropped open when he saw Shara. Mother Hobbs mysteriously disappeared.

He walked over and kissed her on the cheek. “Wow, you look absolutely beautiful.”

“You, too.” She shook her head. “I mean, you look very nice, too.”

They smiled at each other.

“Ready?” Quinton bit his lip.

Shara nodded.

They called out a good night to Mother Hobbs and walked out the door. Quinton helped her up into the truck. They drove in nervous silence. Shara pulled his CD case out and thumbed through his collection. She put on a Frank McComb CD.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Someplace nice.” Quinton smiled.

“Okay.” They both seemed to be concentrating on the music.

He finally pulled up at Paschal's Restaurant. He parked and got out to help Shara out of the car.

Shara was glad for a chance to finally get to eat at Paschal's. Everyone always talked about how good the soul food was there. The hostess led them to their table. Shara perused the menu. She saw a lot of things she wanted, but decided to get a salad. She was starving, so she hoped it was a big one. Quinton ordered a slab of ribs, macaroni and cheese, candied yams, and greens. Shara frowned. Those were her favorites.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing.” She should have eaten before she came.

“Are you sure all you want is a salad?”

Shara nodded. She hoped Quinton didn't hear her stomach growl. She sipped on her lemonade. It took the edge off her hunger, but if she didn't eat some real food soon, she was going to get a headache. The waitress brought a basket of bread. Shara slowly picked up a piece and nibbled on it. Quinton picked up a piece and slathered butter on it. It was gone seconds later.

Shara giggled. “Hungry?”

“Starving. Whenever I start running again, my appetite triples.”

“Me too.”

“Please. A salad? That ain't no appetite.”

Shara took another bite of her bread. “So what's up with your place? You've been here almost two months now. You know what? I don't think you really have a place. I think that's what you and Mother Hobbs are telling everybody. I think secretly, you have no intentions of leaving there and she has no intention of letting you go.”

“Is that so? I'll have you know that not only do I have a place, but it'll be ready very soon.”

“Soon? This must be a castle, as long as it's taking them to finish it. Come clean, Quinton. I bet you're staking out my room at Mother Hobbs' house, too.”

“Okay, conspiracy theorist. For real though, the owner decided to renovate the entire building and I didn't want to live there while construction was still going on.”

“Umm hmm. Whatever you say.”

“Really. Would I lie to you?”

Shara narrowed her eyes at him as if examining him to see if he would. “I guess not. There's one way to tell. Does anyone get to see this place or is its location to remain a secret?”

“You can see it as soon as it's done. In fact, Jenell has seen it because she's started looking at furniture. You can call her and verify that this place does in fact exist.”

“I think I'll do that.”

“I can't believe you don't believe me.”

“I know how great it is living with Mother Hobbs, that's all. I didn't want to move either.”

“She is great, isn't she? How'd you meet her anyway?”

Shara told him how they'd met. She talked about the impact Mother Hobbs had on her spirituality. She talked a little about her spiritual upbringing and all the mind renewing she'd had to do to get over it.

“Gee, and I thought the church I came out of was bad.”

“You always talk about how bad it was. I don't understand what made you go there in the first place.”

Quinton took a sip of his sweet tea. “It was my mom's church. When my little brother died, I was really touched by how supportive they were. You know how everybody is there and brings food right after a funeral and then after that, they're nowhere to be found?”

Shara nodded.

“Well, they were always there, even for months afterwards. Some of the women came to clean the house and bring groceries a couple of times a week. They showed my mother and me and my brothers so much love and support.”

He picked up another piece of bread. “I was really angry with God, so the pastor spent a lot of time with me and really ministered to me. Their love and concern had a lot to do with me getting saved. I guess I shouldn't be so hard on them. When I first got saved, it was great. But then, the more I started learning about God and the closer I got to Him, I sorta outgrew them. Don't get me wrong. I got saved there. But as far as real growth and taking it to the next level . . . I couldn't get what I needed there.”

The waitress bought their orders. Quinton blessed the food so fast, Shara could barely understand what he was saying. He tore into his food. The smoky barbeque scent of his ribs smelled so good that her stomach churned. She picked at her salad.

He finished his first rib. “I guess God knew what I needed spiritually when he brought me here. I've grown so much hearing Pastor Kendrick in the short time I've been here. Not so much in knowledge—I got that from school. I've grown in spiritual intimacy. I guess you know what I mean. You've been at Kingdom Builders for how long?”

“Huh?”

Quinton put down the rib he was eating. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”

“What?”

“Pretending you're a salad girl like Keeva when you can barely concentrate on what I'm saying because you're so busy staring at my food.”

Shara's eyes flew open. She couldn't believe Quinton busted her like that. She knew the look on her face gave her away. They both laughed.

“You want some of mine?” He taunted her, waving a rib under her nose. “Umm umm. These are some of the best ribs I've ever had.”

“You are evil, Quinton.”

“Why I gotta be evil? You the one frontin'. Tell the truth. You'd rather be eating these ribs than that salad.”

“Okay, you got me. Now can you stop waving those ribs under my nose?”

Quinton stopped the waitress. “Excuse me, ma'am. My friend is not enjoying her salad. Can you bring her the same thing I'm having?”

The waitress nodded and took the salad away.

He looked at Shara. “What's that all about?”

Shara shrugged like a little kid caught in the act of some mischief. “What?”

“You've been acting totally disinterested in me for months. But now, you pretend to be a salad girl and you're not really a salad girl.”

“And? What's that supposed to mean?”

He grinned. “That you like me more than you let on.”

“Whatever, Quinton.” She looked at his ribs. “So, are you gonna eat those or what?”

He put his hands over his plate to block her view. “Unh uh, you wanted to order a salad and be cute. You gets none.”

“Quinton!”

Shara grabbed another piece of bread and smoothed butter on it, this time eating it almost as fast as he had. Quinton laughed watching her eat it.

After a few minutes, the waitress brought her food. She taunted him. “Aahaa. I got a whole fresh plate. And you can't have none.” Shara tore into the ribs. She froze when she felt Quinton staring.

“I knew it. Not only are you not a salad girl, you could probably eat me under the table.”

Shara laughed and finished off her first rib. “Yeah, I could take you.” She picked up another rib. “I don't know, though. You can put away a lot of food.”

“That's what my momma always says.” He ate some of his macaroni and cheese.

She liked the look in his eyes when he talked about his mother. “What's your mom like?”

“She is the most incredible woman you could ever meet. You wouldn't think that if you just met her. She's an ordinary, hard-working, single mother. But she loved us so much. She worked herself to the bone making sure our needs were met. She wanted so much for us, but I'm not sure she knew how to push us in the right direction.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, my mother isn't very educated, so I'm not sure she knew how to help us get ahead. She just knew she wanted more for us than she had.”

Shara smiled. “You love her a lot, huh?”

“She's my world. I wish I could get her to move down here—her and my brothers.”

“She doesn't want to?”

Quinton shook his head. “She loves her church. Plus, my baby brother is . . . you know, ‘there.' ” He looked down at the table.

Shara didn't know what to say. Quinton was obviously still in a lot of pain over his little brother's death. Shara could see it in his eyes the few times he had mentioned it. She wiped her hands on her napkin and reached across the table. She softly stroked the back of his hand.

He looked up at her and smiled a little. “Sorry.”

“Don't be.” She continued moving her fingers slowly, tracing the veins on the back of his hands. She rested her hand on his. She propped her chin on her other hand and they sat there looking at each other for a while.

The waitress appeared and started to pick up Shara's plate. “Are you finished with this, ma'am?”

Shara grabbed for her plate. “No!”

Quinton laughed. “Look at the salad girl, now.”

She let go of his hand and started eating her ribs again.

He looked hurt. “Gee, nice to know where I stand.”

Shara laughed, not putting the rib down.

They bantered back and forth until they both finished their food, and then wiped their hands with the wet-naps the waitress brought. Quinton reached over and wiped some barbeque sauce off Shara's chin. “Messy, messy.”

“I think I broke all the girl rules tonight. You're never supposed to eat barbeque with your hands on a first date.”

“I don't see you as much of a girl-rules girl.”

“I'm not. That's why I ate barbeque with my hands on the first date.”

He looked at her with a slight smile on his face. “So does your qualifying this as a first date imply that there might be a second date?”

“Maybe.”

“How 'bout a third?”

“Don't push your luck.”

He winced. “Ouch.” He reached for her hand. “Seriously though, when I told Terrence to leave you alone because you were with me . . .”

“Yeah?”

“Let's just say I was speaking by faith.”

Shara blushed. “You so silly.”

“Why I gotta be silly? Brotha pouring out his heart and you're stepping on it.”

“I'm not stepping on your heart.”

“Then how 'bout that third date?

“We haven't even had the second one yet.”

“I know. But I don't want to have a second unless I know there's gonna be a third.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don't think my heart could take it.”

Shara traced circles around his knuckles. He had large, strong hands. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. She didn't pull back.

“Okay.” She bit her lip.

“Okay, what?”

“The third date.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The waitress brought back Quinton's credit card he had given her when she brought the check. He came over and pulled Shara's chair back.

“Are you going to be such a gentleman on the third date?” Shara asked as they walked out the door and to his truck.

“Yep, and the fourth, fifth and sixth too.”

“Now wait a minute. I didn't say nothing 'bout no fourth, fifth, and sixth dates.”

“I know. But after the third date, I won't have anything to worry about.”

“Is that so, Quinton Mercer?”