Never Say Never (21 page)

I was so encouraged by the time I held up my hands for the benediction. But when I stepped into the aisle once Pastor dismissed us, my thoughts rushed back to Miriam.

“You're looking for her, too?” Michellelee said, moving from her seat and standing next to me.

I nodded. “Did you talk to her?”

“I talked to her yesterday morning before you guys were meeting for lunch, but I didn't call her this morning. I just thought she'd be here.” Michellelee shrugged. “I'll check on her later, 'cause I've got to get to the station.”

“On a Sunday?”

“I'm not working. I just want to see if there's anything new about the arsonist. No one's called, but I can get a lot more information there.”

“I'm still hoping it was some sort of accident, because the thought of one person doing this . . .” I shook my head as my eyes continued to scan the crowd.

Then I spotted Miriam, on the other side, all the way in the back. “There she is!” I pointed for Michellelee's benefit.

We pushed our way through the congregation, even as some tried to stop Michellelee to chat. Members of Hope Chapel loved seeing the news star of Southern California every Sunday.

By the time we got to the back of the church, Miriam and Mama Cee were almost at the door.

“Miriam!” Michellelee and I called out at the same time.

At first, only Mama Cee paused. But then she pulled Miriam's sleeve, and she turned around, too.

“Oh, hey, Emily,” Miriam said, without a bit of enthusiasm.

“You were going to leave without saying anything?” Michellelee asked as she hugged her.

“I didn't know you guys were here.”

“Uh . . . yeah,” Michellelee said. “Where else would we be?”

“Good morning,” I said to Mama Cee, hugging her.

“Good morning, baby.”

Turning to Miriam, I said, “So, how are you?”

She shrugged as if that was a good enough answer.

“Where's Charlie?” I asked.

“He went to round up the boys,” Mama Cee explained. Then she turned to Miriam. “I'm going to go to the ladies' room; I'll be right back.”

“You want me to go with you?” Miriam asked.

“Not unless you have to pee, too,” Mama Cee said.

Michellelee and I laughed.

Michellelee said, “Mama Cee, I don't have to pee, but I'm gonna walk with you 'cause I'm parked on that side of the church and I have to get out of here.” She turned to Miriam. “I'll call you later.” Then she pointed to me. “You, too.”

I waited until Mama Cee and Michellelee were a little bit away before I asked Miriam, “Why were you sitting back here?”

“Well, we were a little late. And with Mama Cee and Charlie with me . . . you know.”

Her tone was so flat, nothing at all like my friend I'd seen just twenty-four hours ago. “I'm sure Pastor Ford still wants you sitting up front.”

She lowered her eyes. “It really doesn't matter. Her message is the same no matter where you sit, right?”

“Right.” I grinned and grabbed her hand. “And today was a good message.” I waited to see if Miriam would agree, and when she didn't, I wondered if she was still mad at God. But maybe she wasn't—she was in church. “When I didn't see you, I thought you'd stayed home.”

Miriam shrugged. “Mama Cee said I needed to be here.”

“She's right.” I sighed. “I wish she'd talk to Jamal.”

Miriam asked, “Where . . . is . . . he?”

“He didn't want to come, can you believe it?” Miriam looked away as I continued, “Listen, I wanted to ask you about what happened yesterday?”

“Yesterday?” she said, still not looking at me.

“Yes, did anything happen when you guys went to lunch?”

“Lunch?”

I frowned. Why was she parroting me? “Yes, you and Jamal went to lunch, right?”

“Right.”

“So, was everything okay?”

“Okay?”

I tilted my head and spoke a little slower. “Yes, was it okay, because Jamal came home a little down. Like something had happened.”

This time, she didn't repeat what I said, but she paused so long, I wondered if she was going to answer me at all. Finally, she said, “I don't know what could've happened. We just . . . talked,” she said softly.

“About Chauncey?”

She nodded.

I sighed. “I think that really affected Jamal, really bothered him.”

Now her bright eyes became teary ones. “I'm really sorry, Emily.”

“Oh honey.” I hugged her. “I'm not blaming you. It's really good that you and Jamal have each other to talk to. You need each other. I just wanted to make sure that's all it was.”

She shook her head. “That's all. We just talked.”

“Okay, I'm back!”

Miriam and I turned as Mama Cee walked up the aisle, and for the first time, I noticed the church had cleared out.

Miriam rushed to her mother-in-law's side. “Here, let me help you.”

Mama Cee glared at Miriam as if she was trying to figure out what her daughter-in-law was doing.

I said, “Well, I parked on the other side of the building, too.”

“Okay, baby.” Mama Cee gave me a hug. “Charlie and I are leaving Tuesday, so I hope we get a chance to see you.”

“I hope so.” Then I took Miriam's hand and squeezed it. “I'll call you later. And don't forget, if you need me, I'm there. Sisters!”

She blinked rapidly, as if she was trying to keep tears away.

I said, “Love you.”

“Mean it,” Miriam said, so softly I could hardly hear her.

I stood in place as Miriam helped Mama Cee down the church steps, and my heart ached for my friend. Just like Jamal's, her pain was palpable, and it killed me. I was a psychologist. I was supposed to be able to help them. But I felt just as helpless with Miriam as I felt with Jamal.

I turned toward the side exit door, but then stopped. Maybe there was something I could do. Pivoting, I moved down the center aisle and at the front of the church, I paused for a minute before I lowered myself to my knees.

The church was empty when I knelt down on the padded cushions, preparing to pray for Jamal and Miriam.

Empty, except for me and the Lord. And as long as He was there, no one and nothing else mattered.

21

Miriam

E
ither I was having a major heart attack or telling lies to my best friend was the best cardio workout ever. Because for the last half hour, my heart had pounded like I'd done ten one-hundred-yard sprints, which would've been quite a feat for me.

I didn't know what I'd been thinking, but I wasn't prepared to see Emily. When I spotted her pressing through the crowd in my direction, all I wanted to do was pick up Mama Cee and run like hell. But since that wasn't going to happen, I acted like I hadn't heard her calling. The only problem was, I hadn't let Mama Cee in on my deception.

All I could do was stand there, remember to breathe in, breathe out, and pretend that I hadn't just slept with my best friend's husband.

But then Emily started questioning me about Jamal, and it was only because of my theatrical training that I was still able to stand on my wobbling legs and not sound like a babbling idiot. Or maybe I did sound like a fool, I didn't know. All I remembered was talking and trying not to look into her eyes.

Now, as I sat behind Charlie, who was driving my van, I kept checking out the cars behind us, and when anyone pulled up beside
us, I held my breath. I wanted to tell Charlie to put the pedal to the metal so that we could get far away from Emily. I was sure she was lurking somewhere, having figured it out. She would catch us at some red light, jump out of her car, and scream for the whole world to hear that I was a liar and a cheat and no friend of hers.

“You okay, Miriam?” Charlie asked as he peered at me through the rearview mirror.

“Yeah,” I said, trying to settle down. “I'm good.”

His eyes held mine. “So, I was thinking we'd go out to brunch.”

“Sounds good.” I was so surprised that my voice was steady while my heart was trying to break out of my chest. “Uh . . . I wanna go home and change first, though. Get out of this dress.”

Charlie shrugged. “Okay.” Then, he glanced at his mother in the front passenger seat. “You okay with that?”

“Yeah.” Mama Cee nodded. “I'll change, too.”

“Yay,” the boys cheered, always excited about going out.

I had never been so happy that my home was close to the church. I needed to get someplace where I could be alone, quick. When Charlie pulled the van into the driveway, I jumped out before he'd even shifted into park. And I was at the front door and in the house before anyone else was out of the van.

Behind the closed door of my bedroom, I finally exhaled.

I slumped onto my bed, wondering why I was such a mess. Of course I was going to see Emily in church. I was going to see her all the time. Everywhere. And that meant I would come face-to-face with Jamal, too.

Jamal!

Now that I'd seen Emily, I could admit that I had really wanted to see Jamal. That had been my hope as I dressed this morning, as I got the boys ready, as we drove to church. I had wanted to see Jamal. Period!

But he hadn't shown up; was that because of me? Was his plan to stay away from church forever? Was his plan to stay away from me?

That couldn't happen. I needed Jamal to know that he didn't need to change his life, his routine, or his schedule, just to avoid me. He needed to understand that I understood. What happened with us was nothing more than one moment in time.

I needed to talk to him, to tell him, to let him know that it was all right—that I was all right. But when could I talk to him? And how? It wasn't like I could go over to Emily and Jamal's condo and talk to him with Emily standing right there. I could call him, but would he answer?

The knock on my bedroom door interrupted my questions.

Mama Cee called out, “Baby, you ready?”

I jumped up from the bed and dashed into my closet. “Almost,” I said. “Give me ten more minutes.”

“Okay. We're all waiting.”

I stripped from my dress, then slipped into a long jean skirt and a T-shirt. In the ten minutes that I'd promised, we were back in the van. Just about thirty minutes after that, we were seated at one of the large circular booths at the Grand Lux in Beverly Hills.

I was in the middle, with my sons on one side and Mama Cee and Charlie on the other.

The waiter, whom I'd watched running around and serving several tables, still greeted us with a smile. “Can I take your drink orders?”

It was a déjà-vu moment that made me freeze. I'd been here before. Not at the Grand Lux, but I'd been in this moment. Me, the boys, and Chauncey. Doing what we often did after church, sitting in a restaurant and enjoying our Sunday afternoon.

Just two weeks ago.

I glanced at my sons, ready to address their distress. But they
wore only smiles as they chatted with their uncle. There were no signs of any kind of flashback.

Resilient. That's what they were. I wasn't naive enough to believe that they were not affected. I knew my sons were still hurting. It was just that they'd found a way to live through it, live in spite of it. They were good examples for me.

After my sons all shouted that they wanted orange juice, Mama Cee, Charlie, and I gave the waiter our requests for coffee.

As soon as the waiter stepped away, the boys were back to their chatter.

“Uncle Charlie, can you come with me to my first Boy Scout meeting?” Mikey asked.

Even though Charlie glanced at me, he asked Mikey, “When is it?”

“Next Saturday. Right, Mom?”

I nodded while Charlie shook his head.

He said, “I wish I could, Mikey.” Then after a deep breath, he added, “Boys, your grandmother and I have to go home.”

“You're leaving?” Stevie asked.

“You won't be able to go with me?” Mikey moaned.

“When are you going back home?” Junior piped in.

Charlie held up his hands, trying to stop the questions, but my sons continued. Together, they said, “I don't want you to go.”

It was another one of those break-your-heart moments.

So I jumped in. “Boys, I have something to tell you.” Their eyes left their uncle and the three turned to me. “What would you say . . . what would you think about seeing your uncle and grandmother every day?”

Mikey and Stevie tilted their heads and frowned.

Junior turned to his uncle. “You guys are moving here?”

If it wasn't for my mother-in-law's health, that would've been
a brilliant idea. Because the truth was, I wasn't sure if I wanted to move. But I said, “No, not them moving here. What do you think about maybe us moving there?”

My words seemed to shock my sons for a couple of seconds.

Then Mikey said, “You mean, like living there with Grammama Cee and Uncle Charlie? All the time?”

I nodded. “Yeah, what would you think?”

After a moment, Mikey said, “That would be so cool.”

“Yeah, cool,” Stevie mimicked his brother.

Now Mama Cee, Charlie, and I turned our attention to Junior. He was the hard sale. All of my sons had lived their whole lives in Los Angeles and had grown up in that one house. Obviously, at ten, Junior's friendships were more solid than his brothers'.

“So what do you think, honey?” I asked him.

Junior looked down for a moment, then shrugged. “I love hanging out with Uncle Charlie, but what about my friends?”

“We wouldn't be moving right now. And we'd have a few more talks about it, so that we can figure this whole thing out.”

Charlie piped in, “I know you have lots of friends here, so we'll make sure you come back and see them.” Then he added, “And you've already made some friends in Arizona. Every time you guys come to visit, you make new friends, right?”