Selling My Soul Page 17

  I sat on the couch without speaking. I couldn’t explain the emotions going on inside me. I wasn’t sure I understood them myself. I wanted to curse him out, and I couldn’t remember the last time I cursed. I wanted to scream and throw him out of my living room. And at the same time, I wanted to burst into tears.

  Because everything he said was painfully true. As much as it hurt to admit it.

  He looked down at himself kneeling in front of me and shook his head. “How ironic, yes? Because even if I ask you to marry me again, you’d say no. No matter how many times I asked. Wouldn’t you?”

  I still couldn’t answer.

  Gabe stood up. “I love you, Trina and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But I can’t do what we’ve been doing for the last year. My heart can’t take it. I want you to think about it.” He picked up a pen and a piece of mail off the coffee table. He scribbled a phone number on the back of the envelope. “Here’s the number where I can be reached. I’ll stay in town for another few days. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll be on my way back to Mozambique.”

  He pressed the envelope into my hand and walked out the front door.

  Moms must have heard the alarm beep when the door opened. A few minutes later I heard her feet on the steps. “Where’s my son-in-law? He left already? What did you do?”

  I rested my head back on the couch and let out a deep breath.

  “Tree? What you do to run that man away?”

  I glared at her. “Why does it have to be that I ran him away?”

  She sat on the couch next to me. “Where did he go? He going back to Africa?

  “In a few days he said. If I don’t call him back.”

  She picked up my cell phone and thrust it in my face. “You better call that man back then.”

  I took the phone from her and put it back on the coffee table.

  She rolled her eyes. “At this rate, I’m gon’ live forever.”

  I laughed. “You mean to tell me all I have to do is never get married to keep you alive? That’s a fair trade.”

  “No it’s not.” She squeezed my knee. “You love that man, Tree. It’s written all over your face. And he loves you too. It should be simple. You love him, he loves you.”

  I nodded.

  “So why are you on the couch looking like your dog just died, and he’s on his way back to Africa?”

  I shrugged.

  “You refuse to let me die in peace, don’t you?”

  “Moms, what does my relationship with Gabe have to do with you dying in peace? Not that you’re dying anytime soon.”

  “Everything. It has everything to do with it.” She leaned back against the couch. “I’m trying to put my affairs in order. There’s just some things I have to make right before I can go. The biggest one is the mistakes I made with you girls. Messed up your lives. I can’t be okay until I fix that. Or at least do my best to fix it. I can only do so much. The rest is up to you.”

  “What are you talking about? You were a great mother. Everything I’ve accomplished, I owe to you.” I put an arm around her thin shoulders.

  “And everything you haven’t accomplished you owe to me as well.”

  I rolled my eyes and lifted my hands to the ceiling in frustration. “What are you talking about?”

  “That wonderful man you just let walk out the door.”

  I closed my eyes and massaged my temples. “Moms, please. I’m tired, and I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “I was a great mother in many ways, but in one way, I really damaged you girls.” Moms sat forward and looked me dead in my eyes. “When your father left us, I turned so bitter. Filled your hearts and heads with so much poison about men. Brought men in and out of your lives that you had no business being exposed to. Just generally gave you the wrong ideas about men, marriage, and relationships. And so for a while, you were sleeping with everyone, but still not giving your heart away. And now that you all sanctified, you just won’t give your heart away. That’s my fault, Tree.”

  I took her hand in mine and squeezed it. Her words were hurting me as much as Gabe’s did.

  “I taught you not to trust a man. Not to depend on no man. Not to be vulnerable or let a man anywhere near your heart. Never let a man do nothing for you. Be strong and independent and never need a man for nothing. And you learned it well. Now it’s time to unlearn all that garbage I taught you so you can love that beautiful man that heaven sent you. Gabriel . . . he’s an angel indeed.” Moms patted my hand. “Find a way, Tree. Call on that God of yours to fix your heart. Make it right so I can have some peace. And while you’re at it, pray for Him to bring Tiffany home so I can make things right with her too.”

  I squeezed her hand. “Thank you, Moms. I love you so much.”

  “I love you too, baby. Now call my son-in-law and get him back over here. That sho’ is a fine looking man. Why he talk so proper though? Ain’t you said he was from Detroit? How a black man from Detroit end up talking all white?”

  I laughed. “He spends most of his time speaking Portuguese, Moms. When he switches back over to English, it’s like a second language for him.”

  She grunted. “Baby, you better call that man. And you need to test drive the car while he’s here.” She shifted her imaginary gearshift. “Vroom, vroom!”

  I swatted her legs. “Moms, you are too crazy. Shush with all that.”

  She took my face between her hands and kissed both my cheeks. “I love you, Tree.”

  “I love you too, lady.”

  I knew both Moms and Gabe were right. I had to find a way to overcome the pain of my father leaving and every negative word my mother had ever spoken into my soul about men. I couldn’t lose him.

  But I was afraid to keep him.

  I would have to pray and trust God to fix my heart, before Gabe got on that plane going back home.

  Twenty-three

  I awoke early the next morning with Moms’s and Gabe’s words on my mind and prayers on my lips. I had to bite the bullet and call him. I took my cell phone downstairs and sat on the living room couch, trying to figure out what to say. As I was about to dial, I heard a key in the front door.

  “Tiffy, you’re home.”

  She looked like crap. Her eyes were swollen and red. Her cute hair style was now matted to her head and her stylish clothes were rumpled.

  “You okay?”

  She nodded. “Is Moms okay?”

  “She’s fine, Tiffany. Where have you been? We’ve been worried sick about you.”

  She held up a hand. “I don’t want to talk about it. And I don’t want to hear your mouth right now. Please just leave me alone.”

  I pressed my lips together and let her walk past me up the stairs. She had no idea what she was in for, but she told me she didn’t want to hear my mouth, so I wasn’t about to warn her. After she dragged herself up the stairs and into the bathroom, I tipped up the steps into my bedroom so I could hear the fireworks, and intervene if necessary.

  A few minutes later, I heard the guestroom door creak open.

  I heard Tiffany suck in a quick, surprised breath, then say, “Moms—you’re here. I didn’t know you were here.”

  “You didn’t know I was anywhere. For all you know, I coulda been in the morgue. Did you even care if I were dead or alive, Tiffany? Huh? Did you even care that your mother was in the hospital and almost died? Huh? Have you called or answered the phone when we tried to call you? How was I supposed to know you weren’t dead? Is that it? You’re trying to kill me with worry? Out there drinking and smoking like you ain’t got good sense.”

  Tiffany must have tried to leave the room because the next thing I heard was, “Get back here you little, black heifer. You ain’t that grown that you can walk away when I’m talking to you. You need to answer my questions.”

  “I ain’t got to answer nothing. You need to leave me alone.”

  I strode down the hall, about to put my size eleven foot up Tiffany’s tail for disrespecting Moms
like that.

  I stopped when I heard Moms say, “I’m about to leave you alone, all right. Real alone. How alone do you think you gon’ be when I die?”

  I heard Tiffany burst into tears.

  “I’m sorry, Tiffany. Come here, baby.”

  “No!” Tiffany screamed. “You and Trina keep asking me what’s wrong, and you know exactly what’s wrong. Just what you said. You’re gonna die and leave me alone. How am I supposed to deal with that? You think I know how to deal with that?”

  “Tiffany, baby—”

  “And stop calling me baby. I’m tired of you and Trina treating me like a child. You two have always treated me like a baby, and then you get mad at me when I act like one. What am I supposed to do now? You trying to die and leave me here to take care of myself. We both know as soon as you go, Trina will be on a plane back to Africa. Where does that leave me? How am I supposed to take care of myself?” Tiffany sat down on the bed, holding her face in her hands.

  Moms sat down next to her. I stood in the doorway, not sure what to do. Moms looked up at me. “We all right, Tree. Just need to make things right with my baby. I mean, with Tiffany.”

  I eased out the door and closed it behind me. I decided to leave it cracked just in case Tiffany got disrespectful again, and I needed to snatch some sense into her.

  I went back downstairs and sat on the couch. I dialed the number Gabriel had left for me, but it went straight to voice mail. When it beeped, I wasn’t sure what to say. I hesitated for a second, but then the words flowed, “Gabe, it’s Trina. Please don’t get on a plane going back to Africa. Because if you do, you’ll be taking my heart with you. And your heart will be here with me and mine will be there with you, and it would be a big mess. Please call me. I . . . I love you.”

  I hung up the phone and sat there, hoping he would call back soon. I decided to go back upstairs and get in the bed. I hadn’t slept much the night before. I could barely hear Moms and Tiffany’s voices so I trusted that they were okay.

  Just before I was about to drift off, my cell phone rang. I looked at the caller ID, praying it was Gabe. Instead it was Sandra Jensen, the reporter from Fox 5 News.

  “Hey, Sandy. You got something for me?”

  “Boy, do I. You might want to sit down, this is pretty awful.”

  I sat up on the side of the bed. “Oh dear. What is it?”

  “Worse than I would have ever imagined, but definitely enough to put Deacon Barnes away for a good long while. I understand why the DA’s office took so long to release this. It’s delicate, and to be honest, just downright sick.”

  My stomach sank. “Sandy, what is it?”

  “This is the story I’ve got so far. About six months ago, one of the members of Love and Faith DC noticed a dramatic change in her ten-year-old son. He suddenly became withdrawn and quiet, staying in his room and getting sick every Sunday so he wouldn’t have to go to church. Weird things started happening, like his bird died, his fish died, and his new puppy disappeared.”

  I frowned, but kept listening.

  “When the news about the arrests broke, the mother became suspicious that her son had been molested. She confronted him and he refused to talk. She took him to a psychiatrist and he completely shut down. He hasn’t spoken or eaten in the last week or so. The mother was walking through her backyard, says she was out there praying for him, and she came across the holes where he had buried his pets. One was marked with the fish’s name, another with the bird’s, another had the puppy’s name on it, and a final grave had the boy’s name on it.”

  I sucked in a quick breath and pulled the comforter around me, not sure I could handle the rest of what Sandy was about to tell me.

  “Of course, she dug it up. In it, there was a plastic garbage bag that contained a bloody pair of his underwear. DNA testing confirms the boy’s blood, and semen which was a perfect match for Deacon Barnes.”

  “Oh, God, Sandy.” My stomach churned. “Oh dear, God. That’s awful.”

  “The word is that his lawyer is trying for a plea.”

  “No way. He needs to burn for this.”

  “We’ll see. Good luck with the Bishop today, Trina. I can’t imagine what your meeting with him is gonna be like. Are you sure he didn’t know anything about all this? It’s just hard to believe . . . well, I know you wouldn’t be anywhere near him if you thought that he had in any way known about this and done anything to cover it up.”

  I couldn’t even say anything. I hoped my silence didn’t tip Sandy off.

  “Let me know if he has anything to say.”

  I had to make myself speak. “You’ll be the first person I call.”

  I hung up and sank back into the bed, feeling like I could throw up at any moment. Was the boy so traumatized that he had killed his pets? What was he thinking when he dug the last grave and put his name on it? Would his life ever be normal again? He should have been playing with his puppy and instead . . .

  I couldn’t shake Sandy’s words about believing Bishop was innocent because of me. I wondered how many others had granted him the benefit of the doubt because of my reputation.

  My cell phone rang again. It was Blanche. I knew I’d get no rest for the remainder of the day.

  “Blanche, I heard. I don’t know if I can do this.”

  “Trina, I honestly have to say I was sick to death when I found out about it. Something about this boy makes the whole thing so personal.”

  I knew Blanche was thinking about her own twelve-year-old son.

  “You honestly think he knew what was going on in his church?”

  “I have factual proof that he knew, Blanche. Don’t ask me how, but I do. He knew nine months ago. In enough time that he could have saved this little boy.”

  She was silent for a moment and finally said, “I’m gonna let this be your call. If you want out, you got it. I can’t ask you to do anything I wouldn’t do myself. I may be a greedy witch, but I have a heart. If this was my son, and I thought the Bishop could have prevented it, I’d take a gun and . . . let’s just say he’d have a different kind of damage control to worry about. In fact, I’ll be calling his office to let him know we’ll be returning his check—minus payment for the services we’ve already provided of course.”

  I let out a deep sigh of relief, almost about to burst into tears. “Thanks, Blanche. Thanks so much. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”

  I sank back into my bed. God, thank you so much. You are so good and faithful. Thanks that Moms is here with me and okay. Thanks that Tiffany came home and that she’s all right. Thanks for Gabe and for the chance to make things right between us. And thank you for getting me out of this nightmare. I laid there praying for the little boy and his mother for a while and drifted off to sleep.

  I didn’t bother to answer my phone for the next few hours. All the reporters calling could leave messages. I was done with Bishop Walker. His number came up on my caller ID several times, but I didn’t care. The only thing that would make me answer the phone again was to see Gabe’s number. Why wasn’t he calling me back? There was no way he had gotten on a plane that quick.

  The phone’s continuous ringing kept annoying me until I finally got up. I didn’t want to turn it off, though, in case Gabe called. I tiptoed down the hall to the guest room and peeked in. Moms and Tiffany were curled up next to each other asleep. I guessed they must have made their peace. I smiled and closed the door.

  I went back downstairs, and the phone rang again. Instead of Gabe’s number, it was Blanche’s again.

  “Yes, ma’am. Is everything okay?”

  “I just talked to Bishop Walker. He’s insisting that our firm continue to represent him. I told him we no longer felt comfortable providing services. He’s such an arrogant . . . Anyway, he says if you don’t call him and be in his office within the hour, he’ll be forced to make good on his promise. He said you would know what that meant.”

  I sank into the couch, letting out a deep breath.


  “Trina, do you know what he means?”

  “I do.”

  “Well?”

  “I can’t talk about it. Please don’t make me. Just . . . let me meet with him so we can get everything straightened out.”

  “You’re going to meet with him?” She sounded shocked.

  I thought of Monica going into preterm labor again and knew I had to. “Yes. I hope to explain later.” There was no way I could tell Blanche the whole truth. Kevin’s story was too juicy for her to keep quiet.

  “So don’t send him his fee back?”

  “Not yet. I’ll call you back soon. If you would, call Bishop Walker back and let him know I’ll be there within the hour.”

  I hung up the phone and went upstairs to get dressed. I put on one of the suits Tiffany altered and headed out the door, praying the whole way. God had worked out everything so far. He would have to get me out of this nightmare with Bishop Walker.

  Twenty-four

  When I walked into Love and Faith’s administrative offices, I was surprised to see a younger woman sitting at Ms. Turner’s desk. “Good afternoon, I’m Trina Michaels. I believe Bishop Walker is waiting for me?” She glared at me and picked up her phone. “Ms. Michaels is finally here, sir . . . yes sir.”

  She looked at me with more disdain. “You can go right in.”

  Who was she and what was her problem? I entered Bishop Walker’s office. “Where’s Ms. Turner?” I was about to tell him about his substitute secretary’s attitude issues, but he was glaring at me with similar irritation.

  “Ms. Turner is no longer with us.”

  “Oh.” I had to wonder if it had anything to do with what happened the last time I was here. Had he fired her because he was concerned she had overheard our conversation?