Forgivin' Ain't Forgettin' (25 page)

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Authors: Mata Elliott

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BOOK: Forgivin' Ain't Forgettin'
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“As difficult as it may be to believe, Sister Brown, I try not to hear about everything that goes on around here.”

“Well, I just hope it’s not too late.”

Clement resumed an upright posture and placed his folded hands on the desk. “Just what are you trying to say?”

Although the room was comfortably cool, Rave dabbed the perimeters of her face with her handkerchief, feigning fluster at being asked for specifics. “Trevor and Cassidy may already be indulging in”—she fell to a whisper—
“the works of the flesh.”

“Okay,” Clement said abruptly, and stood. “It’s time to adjourn this meeting.”

Fine! She’d said what she’d come to say. With an upward thrust, she stood, ironed the wrinkles out of her skirt with an open palm, covered Clement with one last disapproving look, and strutted the short distance to the door.

Trevor jumped into his truck and drove back to the church from Seconds. He needed to remind the custodial staff that the SAFE kids would be staying late tomorrow for a volleyball tournament, and they would not be able to clean the gymnasium until after four. The church parking lot was empty except for three cars, and Trevor grabbed a spot near the gym door and entered through the rear of the building. After speaking with Charlie Young, a member of the custodial crew who was the man to see when you needed information transmitted efficiently, he was hailed by Portia in the stairwell.

“I didn’t know you were still here,” she said.

“I had to come back. Are you finished for the day?”

“Yes,” she said in a soft voice.

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good evening.” He held the door so she could exit first, but Portia remained where she was. Trevor let the door close. “Is something wrong?”

She brought her hand from the pocket of her skirt, transporting a small box. “I want you to have this.”

He grinned. “Did I forget my own birthday?” he joked, but Portia’s expression was no less somber. He applied more sincerity to the moment. “Would you like me to open it now?”

She nodded, and he opened the box and pulled out a whistle—a miniature basketball. “Hey, this is cool. Thank you.”

“You’re probably used to getting gifts from women all the time. Believe it or not, mine is from the heart.”

“That’s what makes it special . . . like you.”

She gazed at him, and he hung her gift around his neck. “God has a man for you, Portia. He’s preparing him, right now, just as He’s preparing you for him.” Her eyes were broad with the shock that he was speaking with such frankness. “If you wait for
God’s
man, you’ll never be sorry you did.” He kissed Portia’s cheek as Clement rounded the stairs from the upper level.

She blushed and smiled. “Thanks, Trevor. You’re a true brother in the Lord. A girl can’t have too many of them in her corner.” She pushed open the door and looked back at Trevor. “I’m going to wait for him,” she promised, and walked away.

Loosening his tie, Clement slowly strode down the steps toward Trevor. “That Portia’s a sweetheart.”

Trevor glanced at the door she’d exited. “She is. Like my new whistle?” Trevor jiggled the device.

“Nice,” Clement said, aiming his rear end at the steps. He designated his lap as a table for his briefcase and folded his hands. “Why don’t you join me, Trevor?” Clement’s gaze was resolute. “There’s something we should discuss.”

“Are you telling me that Trevor’s moving out of the house?” The man’s deep voice barreled through the room.

Rave paraded around the office executing dance moves and watching as torches of desire burned within her companion’s eyes. “That’s right. You know as well as I do he’s going to want to do the”—she made quotation marks in the air—“
righteous
thing.”

As if there were an invisible leash between them, the general practitioner swiveled his head and followed Rave’s path. She leapt onto his desk and jiggled her hips with the finesse of an experienced stripper. “So you’re getting your way this time,” he said from the chair below.

“No thanks to you.” Rave jumped to the floor, climbed onto his legs, and straddled him. She removed the stethoscope curled on his shoulders like a snake, hooked it on her neck, and listened to his heart.

“I told you, I’m not getting involved in your games,” he said as she played doctor. “I was recently made a deacon over at Living Right Temple. I need to stay out of trouble”—he swallowed—“for now.”

Rave gave him a powerful kiss on the mouth. She broke the kiss as harshly as she’d started it. “It took an eternity, but I convinced Dunbar that he should tell Cassidy how he feels about her.” She giggled. “Dunbar and Cassidy—those two will be so cute together. They’ll probably be engaged by the end of the month. Then Trevor will belong to me.” The urge to rejoice in dance hit Rave. She returned the stethoscope to the place from where she’d taken it and scampered back to her desktop stage. She smiled down on Larenz Flemings. He groaned deeply and grinned widely with every twist and turn of her figure as she rejoiced out of her clothes.

chapter twenty-eight

T
revor paused at the front door. The sound of music had come to be one he looked forward to at the end of the day. A composition he didn’t know by name but associated with Cassidy because she played it so often flowed from the front room, and he wanted to stand there longer and listen to the concert she made with her hands. But it was imperative that he talk with her.

He eased next to her on the piano bench, and the sleeve of his shirt caressed her bare arm. “I talked to the pastor today. He voiced concern about me living here given the fact that I have such strong feelings for you.” Trevor hung his folded hands between his legs. He wasn’t perturbed by Clement’s counsel. It was confirmation of the message God had spoken into Trevor’s spirit. “Honestly,” he continued, “there’s no reason for me to still be living here. I can’t use my kitchen yet, but the rest of the house is fine, and we could’ve returned before now.” Cassidy surveyed Trevor with startled eyes for a few notes of music, then looked straight ahead. “When Mother Vale died so suddenly, I wanted to stay and make sure you would be all right. And”—he halted to get the words right—“I wanted to stay with you because I feel good when I’m around you. Anyhow”—he sighed—“the girls and I will be leaving tomorrow.” Cassidy’s fingers raced across the keys, and he thought her playing sounded harsh. “The children can visit whenever you like. I know they’ll miss you.”

The music softened some.

“I’ll miss you, too.”

The music slowed.

“As I’ve expressed before, I’d like to see you regularly, without the children.” He cleared his throat, and the masculine rumble mixed with the flutter of piano notes. “I have to pick up the girls, so I’ll see you later.” He stood and kissed the top of Cassidy’s head, giving her shoulders a kind squeeze while his heart beat with the faith that Cassidy would give him a chance.
I love her, Lord,
he prayed as he stepped outside and the sun greeted him again.
But I love You more, and I want to do Your will in every area of my life. Show me Your will. If it’s not Cassidy, somehow I’ll survive, but if she’s the one for me . . .

“Do you love him?”

Instead of answering the question, Cassidy asked one of her own. “What if he breaks my heart?”

Oliver Toby responded with warm feeling. “There’s always the possibility of broken hearts when it comes to love. Love is as fragile as it is fierce.” He cast a chuckle into the air. “Young lady, you are taking me back in time today.”

“Are you thinking about Louise?”

He answered with a nod. “My sweet Louise. It was love at first sight.”

“There’s no such thing as love at first sight.”

“I beg your pardon.” Indignation wrestled with amusement on Oliver Toby’s face, and Cassidy knew she was about to be
told
. “I’m not talking about strong desire energized by physical attraction. Although the first time I saw Louise, I thought she was hot stuff.” He chuckled again. “But when I say I loved Louise the first moment I laid my eyes on her, I’m saying that I only wanted good for Louise. She immediately became a part of my prayers. Every day I asked God to bless everything she touched, to draw her closer to Him and give her the desires of her heart, whether that was me or not. That’s what true love is: wanting the best for the other person.”

They talked about Louise and love and Oliver Toby’s approaching moving day until it was time for Cassidy to leave. She and Oliver Toby would have only one more Wednesday date, and she was taking him out for a special lunch. “I’ll be here an hour earlier than usual,” she promised, and kissed his cheek.

“I’ll be in my best suit.”

She was about to walk away, but he let go of his walker and tightly clutched her hand. “Not so fast.”

This was one of the few times she’d witnessed his eyes cloud over with such a serious expression, and Cassidy paid close attention to what he was about to say.

“I want an answer.” He repeated firmly, “Do you love him?”

“Don’t you love me, baby?” Kregg parted Rave’s hair at the base and nuzzled the skin of her neck while his fingers took a ride along her spine.

With a knuckle, she covertly bumped a tear from the corner of her eye. “You know I do,” she whispered, sitting up and tugging the sheet around her body. She stepped over their clothes, a disheveled pile on the floor, and hurried into the cozy refuge of her bathroom.

Still wearing the sheet, she filled the tub with water as hot as she could stand it. She pushed the sheet from her shoulders, and it glided to the floor, while her burdens remained chained to her back. She stepped into the tub and submerged everything but her head beneath a layer of white bubbles. The water slid over her skin, fondling her in a way that felt decent and pure, so unlike the countless male hands that knew her as well as the water. But submitting her body to the hands was her drug, a hit that made her feel wanted, and sometimes loved, if only for a moment.

With her head against the tub, Rave shut her eyes and listened to the voices that bled from the past, staining her life with bitterness. She had been schooled early about the opposite sex.

“All men are dogs, Rave,” her mother cursed.

“All men have needs, Rave,” her father cooed.

An hour later, her skin scrubbed until it was bruised and sore in places, Rave wrapped herself in a towel and returned to the bedroom. A pile of pillows supported Kregg’s head, and a blanket shielded him from his waist to his feet. His adoring stare clung to her as if she walked on water as she made her way to the nightstand, and she had to fight hard against the prickling urge to scurry back to the tub and wash some more. She picked up her earrings and put them on. “Why do you always rush to bathe after we’re together?” he asked.

Perfect timing,
Rave thought. Her cellular phone was ringing, so she didn’t have to answer Kregg. She answered the phone instead.

Kregg grabbed the latest issue of
Shades of Women
magazine from the shelf built under the canopy bed while Rave took the call. When she was done, he snatched her towel and asked, “Who was that?”

She snatched back the fluffy cotton and groaned, “Brandonberg. He wants to see me right away.”

Silas Brandonberg monopolized the balcony doorway of his riverfront penthouse. Rave slipped under the arm he was leaning against the frame and stepped outside. The bright lights of the boats below twinkled as the stars above called back with a resplendent sparkle of their own. Rave viewed Silas with a long face. “Why can’t you send someone else?”

“It’s settled.” He sipped brandy from a glass. “You’re going to Phoenix. This is a groundbreaking case, and I want you there as an observer. I’m sure we’ll be handling something similar in the future, and you can’t be too prepared.”

She sighed. “How long?”

“Three weeks . . . but plan for four.”

Silas was the reason Rave had this job, and she wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize her position at Dougherty Wells, a prestigious city firm. Rave nodded okay and forced a smile at the tall, lean, tanned man. She’d met him in a South Street club. He was thirty years older than she, and she had been attracted and intrigued from the start. Silas wasn’t the first over-fifty male, the first Caucasian, or the first senior partner to ask her back to his place. But Silas was all three of these things in one, and that won him a yes to his invitation.

Rave scooped Silas’s glass from his hand and poured a swallow from it into her mouth, batting the idea of Phoenix back and forth in her mind. Maybe a change of scenery would be good. And a month wasn’t that long. Actually, it was the perfect amount of time for Trevor to get Cassidy out of his system once she dumped him for Dunbar. Rave could start dating Trevor as soon as she returned. That thought pumped Rave’s spirits, and she raced into the bedroom and belly flopped onto the king-size bed. She turned over, stretched her legs, and kicked the bedside photo of Lucretia Brandonberg, Silas’s wife of thirty-odd years, face over, as the bird popped from the clock on the wall. It cuckooed that there was plenty of time for Rave to run home, pack her bags, and get to the airport for her morning flight. But first, Rave would show Silas how much she was going to miss him.

chapter twenty-nine

T
he meteorologists had been wrong about the Sunday before Labor Day. There wasn’t an overcast spot in the sky. Cassidy strolled from the church, down the steps, and along the walkway, weaving through the crowd outside of the church.

“Cassidy,” the voices of children rang above the chatter in the air. Cassidy swept a quick glance through the crowd and saw the whole-face smiles of Brandi and Brittney. She hurried toward them as they darted in her direction. Both ACES and SAFE terminated with the advent of the new school season, and with Trevor and the children typically attending the earlier service, Cassidy hadn’t seen or spoken to Trevor or his children for two weeks. Cassidy realized it wasn’t altogether what Trevor wanted, but she appreciated his giving her space to pray and meditate about the course of their friendship.

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