Sixty-Nine (18 page)

He toppled back and his gun fell to the floor at the same time that a butcher’s knife hit the floor, too. Deep red blood was
on the bed, the floor, and underneath him. It was the blood that spewed from his lower back from the sharp, long knife that
pierced his kidneys.

Standing at the foot of the bed was Trinity. Randi was beside her, barking the loudest, angriest, most vicious sounds she’d
ever made. Randi hurried over to encircle the man, jumping back and snarling, hyper enough to send a signal that he’d dare
not get up. Kneeling next to the motionless male, checking his pulse, was Armani.

Trinity, white as a ghost, grabbed Rebe as she turned over, and held her, her head on her mother’s shoulder.

Rebe reached around her daughter and gave her a major hug, rocking back and forth.

Trinity cried.

Rebe cried.

And within twenty seconds, in response to the 911 call made from Rebe’s cell phone that was connected the entire time, two
police officers burst into the room and aimed their guns down at Armani, “Get up with your hands up.”

“No. He’s with us,” Rebe yelled.

Armani stood and raised his hands anyway, stepping back, as the officers then aimed their weapons at the male. “He’s still
alive,” Armani said fast.

One officer asked Rebe, “Are you ladies okay?”

“Yes,” Rebe said for them both, sniffling, shaking, and hugging Trinity even tighter.

The officer saw the bloody butcher knife on the floor. “Who stabbed him?”

Trinity said with a shaky voice, “He was raping my mother.”

“Is that true?” they asked Armani.

“Yes,” he nodded, looking one hundred percent certain, keeping one eye on the male.

“Mommy. I’m sorry,” Trinity said with tears streaming down her face so heavy she couldn’t focus. “I’m so sorry.”

They rocked each other side to side, not noticing the splatters of blood on Trinity.

“Trinity, you saved my life. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

Trinity spoke to the other cop. “He had a gun to the back of my mom’s head. He was going to kill her. I had to.”

Rebe said to her beautiful, traumatized daughter, “But instead, you stabbed him, and you saved my life just in time.”

A
fter thirty minutes of exuberant praise and worship, the choir gave a wound down, spiritual rendition of Yolanda Adams’s “Never
Give Up,” and then the message for the Sunday morning service began.

The church was in Magnolia’s neighborhood, so she was usually the one to attend more than either of her friends. Though as
often as she went, she couldn’t quite get herself walking right.

It was a Sunday.

A day of mid-sun.

Hope was in the air, as the weeks of clouds seemed to be lifting.

This day was brighter and warmer.

Much brighter than it had been in Rebe’s bedroom in the early morning hours of Friday, April 10.

The day the rapper, turned rapist, was stabbed in the home of an ex-NFL player’s ex-wife, by her daughter. Or at least that’s
what the headlines read.

And everyone seemed to know about it.

Seated in the very first row in their Sunday-going-to-church outfits, Trinity, who was named after the Trinity Cathedral back
when Rebe would attend with Trent when they first met, sat next to her mother in an organza bubble skirt suit. Rebe, who wore
a draped dress with a wide patent belt, was hand in hand with her daughter. On the other side of Rebe was Darla and Magnolia,
both wearing all black. Darla’s was a neutral twill pantsuit with a big straw hat and Magnolia’s was a tailored trench dress.
Next to Magnolia was clean-cut Miller in a dark suit and tie.

It was Pastor Kevin Broward’s congregation, listening intently in the newly remodeled mega-sanctuary with marble columns and
overhead projectors. It was filled to capacity as usual, and he had the place fired up as usual.

Right on time, the subject was the Retest. All ears were on the pastor, who had a way of breaking it down, whether reading
from the Bible or preaching off the cuff, but he always managed to give life-survival battery charges.

He stood at the pulpit with his fellow pastors and wife backing him up, sitting in high back chairs just in front of the seventy
member choir, who were all dressed in purple. The pastor was his usual sharp, in a tan suit with an orange tie and pocket
scarf. He was tall and fortyish, energetic and animated.

“Crisis can mean change for the better. But you’ll never change in your life what you’re willing to tolerate. Don’t curse
the darkness. Light a candle.”

The churchgoers raised their hands with a matching “Amen,” as did Darla.

“You must reach beyond something you’ve already mastered. All change begins with a decision. When will you make the decision?”

“Now,” a woman yelled, directly behind Rebe. Others said it as well.

“As suffering abounds, so does consolation. God is trying to teach us something. He’s trying to train us.”

A few shouts of hallelujah floated through the air.

He stepped from behind the podium, ready to dig deep. “The devil will distract you and break your focus. But you have to get
back up. Falling is meant to happen. But failure is the result of quitting in life. Don’t give up. Never give up, as the choir
just sang. If something deep inside keeps inspiring you to try, don’t stop. You’ve gotta keep the faith, to the light. The
light. The light.” He sounded like Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

“You don’t get anointed unless you’re bleeding. But some of you are hardheaded. See, you need a retest. You keep doing the
same thing again and again, expecting a different result.” He joked, “You know what the definition of crazy is, right? Keep
doing the same old thing, warmed over.” He stepped to the other side. “Well, see, God doesn’t flunk you. God is patient. He’ll
just send you through it again until you get it right. It’s called a retest. Same test, different set of circumstances, now
what are you going to do? Same thing? Crazy.” He shook his head.

Some of the members laughed, as did Magnolia and Miller.

He pointed among the churchgoers. “Ask some of these older folks out here. They’ll tell ya. The young are strong but the old
know the way. How do you think they know the way? They’ve been tested. And it’s you young, hardheaded, strong ones who keep
messing up. Let me stop. Some of you old folks are serial repeat offenders, too. But hey. Pressure is a good thing. You’ll
get the lessons sooner or later. You’ve gotta boil to make things happen. It’s gotta get to just the right temperature to
boil. That’s the valley. The peak is just around the bend. We are made bitter before we’re made better. Some of you have your
guard down, and that’s when things happen to knock you down. You ever notice that just when things are good, something happens,
right?”

Folks nodded and said, “Uh-huh.”

“Well, that’s when the devil starts messing, and when the devil starts messing, what?”

“God starts blessing,” his members said out loud.

“Yes. God starts blessing. You’ve had some messing going on, huh? Accept the bitter with the sweet and find the purpose of
the test. Make it your testimony.

“And know that you are not what’s happened to you. Don’t define yourself by your experience. Stop hating on yourself like
that.”

Rebe’s face was flushed and she exhaled hard.

“But you must deal with the root of it all, and then move on. God is strengthening you for the journey. He has positioned
you for a retest for a purpose. All things work together for your good. God is the lifter of your head. But you must get yourself
over to the cross, one way or another. Maybe not today. But soon. Calm yourself.”

“Yes, sir. Yes,” Darla said aloud.

“You have to fail before you succeed. Champions are not those who never fail. Champions are those who never quit. There’s
nothing more powerful than a made-up mind. Question is, when will you make up yours?”

“Now,” some of the members yelled out. “Right now.”

“It’s time to heal the hurting. Take away your shame. Don’t let shame dictate your destiny.”

And with that sentence, he looked directly at Rebe, who started to cry. Trinity held her hand tighter, and Darla patted her
on her knee, squeezing as a sign of comfort to her friend.

Magnolia looked over at Rebe and her heart sped up. She started to cry, too.

“Believe that it’s time for a new season. Watch what happens.”

E
arlier in the day, Magnolia sent Rebe an email, telling her she wanted to come by and see her. She knew she’d needed to wait
a while, considering what happened with the rape, but the stress of wondering if Randall beat her to the punch was too heavy
to carry any longer. And so, they agreed. It would be the next Saturday afternoon at two o’clock. Just the two of them, no
Darla, spending girlfriend time together.

Rebe seemed excited.

Magnolia seemed finally ready.

It was just after five o’clock and Magnolia was at work, telling herself if she was really a good employee, she’d stay a while
longer to finish up the branch operations file she was working on. She’d sometimes head straight to Miller’s house after work,
or go straight home and talk to him on the phone. Every now and then she’d head to her grandmother’s house and they’d have
their own girl talk. Tonight would be a night to head home and chill, alone. But first, another hour or so of work.

Just as Magnolia clicked on her computer and focused on the spreadsheet, her office phone rang.

She grabbed the receiver from its base by touch, eyes focused on the document. “Hello.”

“It’s me.”

“What?” Her face frowned but inside she smiled.

“I’m fine, thanks.” Neal’s sarcasm was accompanied by a brief laugh. “I left something in your car.”

“Excuse me.” She turned her chair from her computer to the view outside the window. “How’d you get in my car?”

“I still have a key and remote.”

“Neal.”

“Go to your car and get it.”

“No. And what you need to do is get me those keys. You can even send them in an interoffice envelope.”

“So you didn’t know I still had them?” He sounded disbelieving.

“No. I didn’t. And don’t use them again.”

“Okay. But when I opened the door and the smell from your car hit my nose, I’m telling you, that kind of bubble gum, vanilla,
smell you always have hanging from that scented tree in your ride. And then I could smell your gardenia perfume, too. Mag,
it made me wanna stick my dick in the vent.” He gave another laugh.

She rubbed her temple and shook her head. “Neal. You are sick. Good-bye.”

She hung up and just sat in amazement, flashing a very brief smile. She had to admit that curiosity had a grip on her mind.
Magnolia fiddled with her orange enamel bangles and gave a “what the hell” look. She then shut down the computer and headed
out.

When she got to her car, she had a single rose on her seat, with a note that read,
Tonight at six-thirty. Our spot. El Rancho Grande. Be there, please. Don’t say no
.

Magnolia just sat in the driver seat and looked at the note, examining his writing, his distinctive way of printing every
letter in all caps, at an angle, with the lazy way he’d fail to lift the pen, causing scribbled-looking words. Just one of
the many things she noticed about Neal. She touched the dark red rose with her fingertips and started up her car, holding
the rose as she backed up. She then pressed speed dial on her cell and put the call on speaker.

She asked her boyfriend on his cell, “Baby, where are you?

“Hey love. At home. Rudy’s coming by in a minute with the kids. Can you stop by?”

“No. I don’t think so. I’m bringing work home with me so I’ll head straight to the house and get this done. Tell your son
and the kids I said hello. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay. Don’t work too hard. Call you later. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Miller.”

It was seven-ten.

The weather was in the sixties.

Nighttime dark had not set in just yet.

The entire drive the short distance seemed not right.

She remembered the sermon by her pastor.

That God will give you a retest.

She knew exactly what it was.

And being where she was, was wrong.

But in a way it was important.

And besides, wrong had been knocking at Magnolia’s door for a minute.

Even though she knew better, she just wasn’t quite ready to shut it all the way. Not just yet.

The busy Mexican restaurant, the place where Magnolia and Neal first met, was busy with the after-work dinner crowd, as usual.
The wait for a table was forty-five minutes.

Neal, dressed casual with a blue and white Yankees cap, checked Magnolia out up and down, like his eyes were deceiving him.
He looked at her dark hair as it flowed straight behind her back, loose. “Why’s your hair down?”

They sat at the oblong bar. Magnolia didn’t want to wait for a table. There were two barstools to the left of her that were
free, but all the rest were taken. They both sipped on the strong, ginger margaritas the restaurant was known for. Neal was
already on his second.

She looked at his face, admiring his features, thick lashes, and white teeth. She always loved him in a fitted cap, but didn’t
let on. “I just wanted to wear it down. No biggie.” Magnolia dipped a salty tortilla chip in the mild salsa and ate it.

Neal eased his eyes toward her hips as her backside spanned the width of the barstool. “Tight jeans?”

Her words were nonenergetic. She still chewed and said, “I went home and changed.”

“Nice. You’re looking really nice.” He nodded.

“Thanks.”

“Thanks for coming. I’m glad we’re face to face.”

“Yep. No one around like when we’re at work and you’re bugging me. No one at my house calling on my phone, cursing me out
while you’re there. And no one at your house, hiding in your bedroom like a sneaky little porno kitten.”

He managed a smile as though amused. “That’s true. Again, I apologize for that. No worries.”

“You should be sorry. That was like a damn sneak attack, Neal. You cared more about that woman setting me up than how I’d
feel. Really, how selfish was that?”

He raised his hand in surrender. “That was a mistake.”

She picked up her margarita glass. Her heart spoke. “It’ll never happen again because I won’t let you do that to me again.
I won’t let you hurt me again, period.” Magnolia licked the salt around the rim of the glass and gave a sip.

“You won’t have to worry about that.”

“Oh, okay. Just as long as you’re sure she’s not gonna pull up soon and come in here trying to jump me.”

“No. Not gonna happen.” He sipped his drink with a look like he was willing to submit to anything, just happy to have her
to himself for a minute.

Magnolia said, “So, I see you’ve been trying to walk the straight and narrow for a minute. Been pretty quiet. Congratulations.”

“Please, it hasn’t been easy. You’ve been on my mind the whole time. You told me not to bring drama into your life and I heard
you. But I just couldn’t take it anymore. I just needed to see you, other than passing each other at work.”

Magnolia looked away from him, and to her left, up at the basketball game on the ESPN channel overhead. She asked, “You two
still getting busy on GFF?”

“We’re on there. But we don’t do anything.”

“So, you stopped because you’re happy now?”

“I’m not really seeing her like that.”

Even looking away, her eyes called him a liar. “Yeah, right. Not really? I don’t know why not. You wanted someone dirty, and
you got filthy.”

“Maybe, but I would’ve preferred you.”

Magnolia saw a Hispanic man looking straight at her. He smiled. She smiled. She looked to her right at Neal. “Yeah, anyway,
you were the one complaining all the time that I wasn’t this enough or that enough. That I wasn’t open-minded enough. But
it’s funny, you never had a problem busting a nut.”

Neal spoke energetically, “Don’t get it wrong. The sex was good. Real good. I just wanted to explore more.”

Magnolia took another sip and thought, looking to the TV screen again. “I see. Then maybe you should’ve been patient. You
should have taught me and worked with me and talked to me and loved me through it.” She turned to Neal, who also looked up
at the TV. “You said I was the woman you wanted to marry.” He then looked at her. “We picked out a ring together one day,
and the next day, Keyonna was forwarding me the text messages you sent her. Funny, they say text messages are the new lipstick
on the collar. The new evidence. You should’ve been more careful.” She looked annoyed. “And then, to top it off, Neal, I had
to look at her at work. I wanted to kick both of your dumb asses.”

“We weren’t even doing anything at that point.”

“Yes, you were. You need to stop lying. I believe there was a text from you that read, ‘I can’t wait to watch you come on
my dick again.’ ” She shook her head. “Why do you always deny? You know I saw the message. Damn.” Magnolia now spoke with
impatience and began to frown.

“Okay.”

“No need for any more bullshit. You’ve got the freak. Mission accomplished.”

“I’d leave her for you right now.”

Magnolia darted her head back and eyed him down. “I thought you said you weren’t really seeing her like that.” She looked
down at her glass, placing her fingers on the stem. “Neal, please. If you don’t want Keyonna, you should leave her for yourself.
Not for someone else. Besides, if she hadn’t sent me those messages, you would’ve continued to make me look like a fool.”
She swallowed the last sip of her drink. “I guess I should be thanking her.”

“I’m not done with you.”

“Well, I am done with you.”

He looked confused. “Mag, so you agreed to meet me here to tell me that? Uh-huh. Now I get it. You must be seeing someone.”

“None of your business.”

Neal took her chin into his hand and angled her face to his. “Magnolia. I’m sorry.”

“You said that already before.”

“I know, you always hurt the one you love. That’s because they care so much. I blew the trust. I want you to forgive me.”
He looked serious.

“Neal, all I want is a monogamous man, and you’re not it.” She moved his hand and looked away.

“I can be.”

“You’ve already proven you aren’t. Not with me. And not with her, since you’re here tonight.” Magnolia thought that her own
words could apply to herself, just for the fact that she was there as well, after lying to Miller. And that Neal’s sentence
about hurting the one you love reminded her of her guilt about betraying Rebe. But at the moment, her unresolved feelings
of Neal abandoning her were first and foremost. She couldn’t shake it. She knew she needed to take control. But her head and
her heart were at odds.

“I’m telling you, she and I are…”

Magnolia interrupted, putting up her index finger. “Spare me, Neal.”

He looked behind him as a couple of young women walked by.

“See, that’s another thing. A woman’s always gotta deal with your reckless eyeballing.” She clicked her tongue. “Whatever.”

He turned back around in a split second and simply went to another subject like he never even heard her. “Why did you get
off of GFF?”

She looked surprised. “I didn’t need it anymore.”

“So you are seeing someone.”

“Neal.” Suddenly, Magnolia again looked to her left, and the Hispanic man sitting three barstools down who’d smiled slid a
folded napkin over toward her and then turned his back, looking back up at the TV screen.

Neal asked immediately from behind her, “What the hell did he just do?”

Magnolia said, “Nothing.” She took the napkin and moved it closer to her.

Neal stood up. “What’d he just do? What is that?” He pointed to the napkin. “Did he just pass you that?” He took it from Magnolia
and opened it. It read,
Jose, 305-874-5564.

Magnolia told Neal, “It’s just a napkin.”

Neal balled it up and spoke fast, walking behind Magnolia, standing to her left. “Man, she’s with me, okay? What’s your fuckin’
problem anyway?” His voice was fully loaded. He tossed the napkin onto the bar.

“Oh man, I’m sorry. No problem. I, I, I…” The man stuttered and blinked fast.

“Dude. Your ass is trying to be slick. You slid that shit across the bar so I wouldn’t see. Well I did see it. You were raggedy
with it. We need to take this shit outside, muthafucka.”

Magnolia leaned over closer to Neal, reaching for his bicep. “No, Neal. No.”

He snatched his arm farther away and stepped closer to the guy.

The guy said, “Look, I’m sorry man. She looked over at me and I thought she smiled and I thought, maybe she was your friend,
sister, I don’t know. Obviously I was wrong. I didn’t know what she was to you, but whatever. I’m sorry, man.”

By now, Magnolia noticed all eyes on Neal. She gave a long breath and braced herself.

“Dude, if you thought she was just my friend you should’ve been man enough to ask me, instead of sneaking a damn note to her.
But I don’t buy that shit. I think you knew good and damn well what you were doing.”

The bartender spoke as he stood on the other side of the bar, across from them. “Sir. You wanna keep it down.” He looked dead
serious.