Don't Tell A Soul (26 page)

YVONNE

 

 

 

 

K
ingston says that he has a surprise for me, but to be honest, I am afraid of his surprises! Ever since the attack, he barely lets me out of his sight long enough to go home and go to bed. The night after the attack he slept in his car outside of my condo, and he said he didn't care who saw him. I didn't even know he was outside until that following morning. It was a . . . surprise!

Who knows? Maybe it'll be something fun. Lord knows, I need something to break up the endless prayers I've been doing for my friends.

Taylor called and told me that she's letting Joshua go to Luke's wedding. I don't agree with that at all, but she is the parent, and I guess as ignorant as he is, Luke should be recognized as a parent, too. I just wish he would leave them alone. He knows Joshua is being raised right, so why does he even interfere?

“Yvonne, I'm done cooking dinner!” Eva says. “Do you like spaghetti?”

“Who doesn't like spaghetti?” I say. “But I'm going to pass. I don't want something so heavy on my stomach at choir practice.”

Eva is the perfect houseguest. She cooks! I am a good cook myself, but there's something decadent about sitting down and letting someone else prepare your meal.

There's the doorbell, right on time. Kingston has never been late picking me up. We're not even going on a date. We're going to choir practice. I take one last look in the mirror and adjust the purple flower on the left side of my hair. Someone told me once that Hawaiian women wear their flowers that way. Left side for single women, right for married, and in the middle for those who are open to negotiation.

Guess it's the middle for Ms. Pam.

I open the door with a huge smile on my face, because no matter what I'm thinking about, I'm happy to see Kingston. “Hello, you!” I say as I hug him around the neck.

He pulls back and plants a soft kiss on my lips. I think I could go on savoring his kisses for an eternity.

“What is the surprise?” I ask.

Kingston grins and shakes his head. “You are very impatient, Yvonne. You'll have to wait for your surprise.”

“Oh, all right. Would you like something to eat before we go to choir practice?”

“No thank you, but I'd like something to eat
after
practice.”

“A lady doesn't entertain male company in her home after dark.”

Kingston laughs. “Well, it's a good thing you aren't going to be entertaining me. You'll be feeding me.”

I punch him lightly on the arm. “You are teasing me.”

“Ditto.”

This makes me crack up. Kingston keeps accusing me of teasing him, and it tickles me that he's this attracted to me. Luke never treated me as if he desired me. But every intense gaze Kingston sends my way lets me know that he wants to know me in more than the biblical sense.

I know that's how God made men and women, but it still frightens me. Chastity is not optional—it's a requirement with me. I just hope Kingston doesn't try to put me in an uncompromising position. I would be so disappointed, especially since I've decided to give him my heart.

In the car on the way to choir practice, Kingston hums and looks so pleased with himself that I'm curious about what he's thinking.

“A penny for your thoughts,” I say.

“They are worth a little more than that, but if you're on a budget, I'll accept your little piddly coin.”

“Piddly? You're calling my money piddly?”

“One cent, Yvonne?”

I laugh out loud. “What
are
you thinking about?”

“You.”

“Well, I'm right here, so tell me what's going on in your head.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “It wouldn't be proper to tell a lady these things.”

My jaw drops. “Kingston!”

“Hey, you asked! I wasn't going to say anything at all.”

“You're about to minister, Kingston!”

He nods. “I know. Don't you realize that's why ministers usually start off their prayers asking for forgiveness? It's a daily thing for men.”

“I'm not going to believe my pastor is thinking about First Lady in a carnal way before he preaches.”

“It depends on what First Lady is wearing.”

“Kingston!”

“I'm just saying. Pastor Brown is not a saint. He's a man who loves the Lord . . . and his beautiful wife.”

We finally get to the church, and not a second too soon. I'm done listening to Kingston say ridiculousness about my pastor. I'm going to choose to believe that he's not thinking about anything other than God's grace and mercy in the pulpit.

I don't wait for Kingston to open the door for me. I just jump out of the car and start walking toward the church. Kingston's feelings seem hurt.

“Why didn't you let me get it?” he asks when he catches up to me.

“Because I didn't want you to rub any of your
flesh
off on me.”

Kingston laughs. “Please stop saying things like that! You want me to stay in the spirit, but you keep egging me on.”

Kingston casually takes my hand in his as we walk into the church. I look down at his hand and then up at him. “So we're going public?”

“I've already gone public. Every person that asks, I tell them you are the one.”

This warms my heart and makes me squeeze Kingston's hand tighter. My only reply is the smile that is plastered on my face.

As soon as we enter the sanctuary, the giggling starts. There are a lot of young women in the choir that I mentor, so I consider removing my hand from Kingston's, but then again, they need to see my fairy-tale prince treat me like the queen that I am.

Kingston leads me up into the choir stand and takes his place in front of the microphone stand.

“How's everybody doing tonight?” he asks.

Everyone answers at once, and Kingston smiles. He does this at the beginning of every practice. After everyone is done with their chaotic hellos, Kingston opens choir practice up with a prayer.

“Okay, I'd like to teach you all a song. It's an oldie but goodie, but mostly a goodie.”

I love when Kingston picks out hymns. In my opinion they don't write gospel music like they used to. I don't want to go get it or stomp. I want the precious blood of the lamb! Hallelujah!

Kingston signals to the musicians, and they start playing. This music is familiar, but it is not a hymn. Nowhere near. It's “Time Will Reveal,” by my favorite group, DeBarge. I'd know this music anywhere!

Kingston holds the mic to his mouth and sings, “I tell you I love you, but you won't believe it's true.”

My face reddens, and I cover it with my hands when I realize Kingston is singing to me.

“More precious than silver, more precious than diamond rings, or anything that I can give you, it wouldn't mean a thing. If you didn't have my love beside you there to guide you through. Ain't it good to know you do?”

I am thrilled and embarrassed at the same time. Kingston gets down on one knee and pulls a ring out of his pocket.

He keeps singing. “Yvonne, will you marry me? 'Cause this time love's for real. Come spend your life with me. This special love that's deep inside of us will last until the end of time!”

Everyone applauds as I stand here shaking, crying, and nodding yes all at the same time. Kingston keeps singing as he slips the ring on my finger. There are oohs and aahs from the choir at the ring. I wouldn't have cared if he gave me a ring out of a Cracker Jack box!

When he finishes the song, Kingston stands to his feet and hugs me. If I could just freeze this moment in time, I would. I've never, ever been so happy to be alive.

“You've made me the happiest man in this church right now,” Kingston says.

I whisper to him, “I can't even describe the way you've made me feel.”

“This is nothing, Yvonne. I'm only getting started.”

I'll take this as a promise of bigger and better things to come, although I don't know what else God could do that's greater than Kingston. It's like God wanted to make it up to me for enduring Luke by giving me the most tender, handsome, and God-fearing man that He could muster.

“Hallelujah!” I shout. I meant to keep my praise inside, but when I thought about what God had brought me from and where he was taking me, I couldn't help but shout.

The keyboard player goes from playing DeBarge to shouting music, and I cut a rug right up there in the choir stand. The entire choir claps and dances before the Lord with me.

I guess to non-churchgoing folk, we'd probably look like we're doing a rain dance or something. And I would agree with them. A latter rain dance. My latter man is absolutely better than my former man. And if that ain't worth a shout, then I don't know what is!

PAM

 

 

 

 

“S
o counseling for you and Troy, huh?” Taylor asks.

“Yeah. What do you think? Would you do it? Would you stay with Spencer if he cheated on you?”

Taylor slams her hand down on my patio table. “The devil is a lie. Spencer would not cheat, but if he did, I wouldn't stay with him. I couldn't.”

“And yet you advised me to stay with Troy.”

“Yes. Y'all are two different people. It'll work out with you and Troy if you just let it, Pam.”

“I don't want to talk about it until we get done with counseling.”

There's nothing that I can say that will convince Troy that I never slept with Logan. After he had a chance to think longer and harder about the whole thing, he decided that I was being unfaithful, and that the only reason why Logan tried to rape me was that he had already had a taste.

Yeah, it's going to take a lot of prayer to fix us.

I watch our children splash in the pool. They're happy that Troy is back home, no matter what issues we might have. They love their daddy.

Taylor says, “You think you've got drama? I'll see your marriage counseling and raise you an ain't nobody got time for that. Right now my son is probably walking down the aisle at his father's wedding.”

“You've grown,” I say. “A couple of years ago we wouldn't be having this conversation.”

Taylor shakes her head. “No. I don't know how much I've grown, but at least I didn't hide Joshua in another city when Luke showed up. I considered that, you know.”

I laugh out loud. “Spencer would've stopped you.”

“Not if I put my mind to it, he wouldn't. He is absolutely no match to my wit.”

I need Taylor's humor to keep my mind off my life. Troy and I haven't told anyone about Logan's attempted rape. I wanted to call the police and file a report, but Troy said that it would ruin him in the industry if he did. So we just dropped it and pretended that it never happened.

Except that I can't forget. I feel terror in the pit of my stomach every time I see a man who looks like Logan. I've always thought that I was a good judge of character, but I guess the devil can fool anybody silly enough to go playing with fire.

“I guess we've got a wedding to plan, huh?” I ask, wanting to change the subject of the conversation and the train of the thoughts in my mind.

“We do! Yvonne is going to be a beautiful bride.”

“Yes, she will.”

Taylor covers her mouth with her hand and chuckles. “Should we invite Luke?”

“Girl, hush!” I say.

“I'm joking. Well, sort of. I think Luke should see how happy Kingston makes Yvonne. Then he'll realize how much of a loser he is.”

“No, he won't,” I reply. “He'll assume Yvonne is faking her new joy, or that she's going overboard to make him jealous.”

“You're right. He's an egocentric buster,” Taylor says. “And my baby is right there hanging out with him.”

“Do you want to go and make sure Joshua's all right?” I ask. “I can ride with you.”

“Wouldn't that be a crazy-lady kind of thing to do? Plus, we're not dressed for a wedding.”

I look down at my bummy pair of sweats. “We're dressed for a loser's wedding.”

“I don't know. . . .”

“Oh, come on,” I say. “It'll be fun. We can be the crackish-looking ex-girlfriends.”

“Crackish?” Taylor asks.

“Yeah.” I scratch my neck as I reply. “I 'on know why y'all all on this dude. He's so broke, he ain't gave child support since my son got out of diapers. . . .”

Taylor giggles and scratches her neck, too. “Yeah, little Rayjahnay, Mudfoot, and Bryce don't have new shoes, either.”

I burst into laughter. “Rayjahnay? Mudfoot?”

“The ghettoer the better.”

“Come on,” I say. “Let's do this. I'm in the mood for a laugh.”

Taylor bursts into a flurry of belly laughs, and I try to join in. Her laugh is one of someone who's laid their burdens down. Mine is counterfeit. Mine sounds like that of someone whose yoke all of a sudden got heavy.

Taylor notices that I've stopped laughing, and she stops, too. She takes my hand in hers. “Pam, I'm still praying for your situation.”

“Thank you.”

Taylor says, “I'm not stopping until you get a breakthrough.”

And I believe her, because that's what we do. We enjoy each other, and we pray with each other. She is my sister, even if we don't share a drop of blood.