Forever Blessed (Women of Prayer) (18 page)

Laney looked up, surprised. “Really, she got me something? I figured she was too busy to call me back. I tried to call her, to tell her I had something for her and Junior, but I never heard from her. I figured I’d call her after the holidays had passed, once things slowed down.” The tears started up again. “I guess that will never happen.”

Sheila put her arms around her friend and gently led her back to her truck. “Come on, let’s go home.” She helped her into the front seat and shut the door. When they pulled into Laney’s driveway, Sheila handed her the package Keisha had left for her. It was wrapped in simple brown paper and tied with string.

Laney took the package and held it close, not sure she wanted to open it. She knew Ella and the kids would want to know what happened, but she wanted a few minutes alone before she had to be strong. She let herself in her front door and sat at the kitchen table where she had a clear view of the Christmas tree still standing in the corner of the living room.

She slowly untied the package and couldn’t help but smile. A worn copy of
Sense and Sensibility
hid in the carefully-folded packaging. She spoke out loud. “She must have remembered what I was reading when we first met.” Of course she would remember. She might not have been the most socially adept, but her heart was in the right place.

Laney wiped away a tear and went to the Christmas tree. She found the snowflake ornament that Keisha had hung on the front of the tree and carefully wrapped it in the brown paper packaging from her gift and set it on the bookshelf.

Once again terror had revealed itself and she needed comfort. It was time to pick up her kids.

*  *  *  *

Laney looked around to see who had come out for Keisha’s funeral. She was surprised to see a crowd. Her black hat hid her red hair perfectly, although that was not the reason she wore it. She had been warned ahead of time to prepare to stand outside for some time. Apparently the socially accepted short winter funerals were not “accepted” in African-American circles. Her black wool crocheted hat had been just the thing to keep her warm. She tucked every bit of her curly red mop in that hat. She must have had fifty bobby pins holding it all together.

The church service had been long, with many testimonies. It seemed as if Keisha’s whole family, all her aunts, uncles, cousins, second cousins and many who weren’t related by birth, had something to say. What a wonderful person she was. One second cousin had the audacity to ask who he should talk to about getting the money he loaned Keisha back. Her mother let out a gasp and his mother dragged him from the platform. The hallelujahs and amens resonating from the congregation while the preacher apparently preached a sermon startled Laney. She’d never seen such an animated funeral. One minute, everyone was wailing and the next, they were clapping their hands and acting thrilled that Keisha had been taken from them. This was the most confusing funeral Laney had ever attended.

The long line of cars slowly made their way through town. Laney was glad she drove with Sheila. She wasn’t familiar with the streets of Milwaukee.

Once they reached the cemetery, they all traipsed through the snow to the freshly dug earth, where Keisha lay suspended, waiting to be lowered, never to be heard from again. Laney tucked a stray curl back into her hat.

A black lady started singing
Amazing Grace
, her soulful version filling the air around Laney, reminding her of her proclamation to God. The very same God she had been avoiding. Several songs later, and after quite a few testimonies by those who found they had more to say, the procession began again, this time to the church where Keisha’s family attended. As she passed by the grave, Laney carefully laid the wrapped snowflake on top of the casket. Laney wasn’t sure she and Sheila should attend the luncheon, but Sheila wanted to speak with Keisha’s mother again, and both women wanted to see Junior. Neither Laney nor Sheila had had the chance to talk with him since finding out about Keisha. Laney had tucked his gift in her purse. She had been watching him during the funeral. He refused to go to the casket to see his mama.

Laney voiced her thoughts. “I wonder if Junior has talked to anyone yet?”

Sheila pulled into the church parking lot. “We’re about to find out.” Sheila glanced at Laney. “You ready?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Nope, I guess not. Let’s go in. It’s freezing out here.”

Both ladies climbed from the truck and followed those heading into the church, assuming they were going to the same place. They headed for Keisha’s mother and Junior, who was standing next to her.

Laney knelt down. “Hey buddy, can I have a hug?”

Junior shrugged so Laney enveloped him in her arms and clung to him. His hands continued to hang by his side and his face was stoic.

Laney pulled the small gift out of her purse and handed it to him. “I didn’t see you for Christmas so I brought your gift with me. Want to open it?”

Again, Junior shrugged. But, he took the package from her and slowly opened it. She had picked up a used Nintendo DS and a couple of games from the local game store. She had caught him eyeing Matt’s several times when they were together. “I hope you like it. Maybe sometime you can come over and you and Matt can play together, okay?”

He nodded and looked to his grandmother. She shook her head and sent him to sit at the table with his new gift, hoping it would take his mind off of his circumstances, if only for a little while.

“He ain’t talkin’. Not a lick. The police say his closet door was cracked open and he prob'ly saw the whole thing. That boy’s hurtin’. Mmm-hmmm. Yes he is. To see his mama lyin’ there, bleedin’ like that. And to know his daddy done it.” The big black woman shook her head, her grief too fresh to continue on.

Laney watched the boy pushing buttons on his new game and her heart broke for him. The pictures stored in his mind would never leave him. Whether or not he blocked them, he would always know what his father did to his mother. Living without a mother and a father was tough for any kid, but these circumstances had to be the worst. Laney couldn’t wait to get home and hug her own kids.

             
             
             
Chapter Twenty-Two

He stayed out of sight. It didn’t take a genius to figure out the broad who owned the women’s house would lead him to Laney. He had heard about the fat black woman getting beaten to death by her man. Maybe, just maybe, if he was lucky, Laney would show up at the funeral. By her description, he didn’t think he’d have a hard time picking her out of a crowd. A real looker. He scanned the crowd for a head of bright red curly hair. Nothing. Why did everyone have to where such drab clothes to these things?

'Course, there was always the possibility she changed her looks. He knew people who did that all the time. Gotta keep em’ guessing, especially if you don’t want to be found. He looked at all the women standing by the grave. There weren’t too many white women. She had to be there. He just knew it.

He ducked behind a tree as some people walked by. He didn’t want anyone seeing him, so he figured this would be the safest route, the easiest to hide. He could kind of take a back seat on this one since all he had to do was find the girl. Couldn’t be that hard.

Scanning the crowd for a head of bright red hair, he kept an eye out. Nothing yet. He hadn’t counted on the weather being so darn cold. The wind off the lake pretty much had everyone bundled up. It was kind of hard to see faces with everyone’s backs to him.

One woman in particular caught his eye. The only problem was, she was covered head to toe in black, including a black hat. Not a red hair in sight, at least, not that he could see from this distance. He tried to get a little closer.

He was close enough to hear the singing. Some big black lady was singing Amazing Grace. Didn’t anyone ever teach her to sing it normal-like? He hated when people changed the way songs went. It annoyed him and he didn’t like being annoyed.

He stood at the back of the crowd, trying to look like he belonged. Course anyone with half a brain could see he didn’t.

Now he could hear the preacher preaching. He’d like to know why preachers felt like they should preach at a funeral. Wasn’t the broad already dead? What good is the preaching gonna do her now? He positioned himself where he could watch the lady with the black hat. That was when he saw it. A stray piece of red hair popped out of her hat and she quickly tucked it back up.
Bingo
. He had her. At least he hoped it was her.

             
             
Chapter Twenty-Three

A week had passed and Laney still couldn’t stop thinking about Keisha. She’d read the paper. Thank God Jamal had been so cocky. He was being charged with murder, so that helped some. She hoped he’d get the chair. She wasn’t even sure if someone could
get
the chair in Wisconsin, but in her mind, he more than deserved it. She made her way into the grocery store, trying to concentrate on the job at hand but had a hard time of it.

She’d made out her menu and grocery list and crossed each item off the list as she put it in the cart. Her mind was still on her dear friend and she wasn’t watching where she was going when she almost plowed into Jessi, Pastor Mark’s wife.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going. Obviously.”

Jessi smiled good-naturedly. “Oh, no problem. I tried to call you, to see how you are doing. I am really sorry about what happened to Keisha. We will miss her.”

“Yeah, I got the message but I really haven’t felt like talking about it. Although, I can’t seem to get what happened out of my mind. It’s affecting me at home and at work. I’m hoping time will help.”

“We missed you this past Sunday at church.”

Laney looked sheepish. “Well, I was kind of busy. I thought I’d better stay home and catch up on some things.”

Jessi peeked into Laney’s cart. “Would you like to go sit down and have some coffee? I have some time if you do.” She pulled a jar of pickled pigs' feet out of Laney’s cart and held it up. “Unless you really think your kids want this for a meal?”

“Oh, sheesh, my mind is really not on this.” Laney blew out a deep breath. “Sure, maybe it’s time I talked with someone.”

Together they put the few things in Laney’s cart away, then walked outside to their cars.

They came to Laney’s car first. She opened her van door then did a double take. On the front windshield was a wilted rose. She held it up. “Is this someone’s idea of a joke?”

Jessi replied. “Probably some kid stuck it there. There is a small coffee shop down the street, you want to go there?”

Laney looked at the flower once more before throwing it aside. Her mind wandered to her husband. No, surely not. If he knew where she was, she’d know. He would make sure of it. “Yeah, you are probably right.” She tossed the flower aside and climbed in her van.

*  *  *  *

They both ordered their coffee, then sat down at a private table, near the back. Jessi started the conversation. “Do you mind if I pray first?”

Laney nodded her consent and Jessi bowed her head and reached for Laney’s hand. “Lord, I ask that you be with us in the midst of this conversation. That our words and thoughts and actions would glorify you. I pray for understanding and peace to fill Laney’s heart. I pray that her commitment to you would not be harmed by what man has done. Father, I ask that you use me as you see fit to help your child. Be with us now, in the precious name of Jesus. Amen.”

Laney pulled her hand from Jessi and reached for her coffee. She wasn’t sure how to start. How does someone talk about something so deep? So hurtful?

Jessi easily brought Laney out of her shell. “Sometimes we just didn’t know what to do with Keisha. She made us laugh so much. I will miss her smile and her generous heart.” She sipped her own coffee. “Do you remember those plates we gave her from the donation room at church? Apparently someone told her they were butt ugly and she brought them back to us. I was biting my lip so hard to keep from laughing out loud while she went on and on about those plates.”