Read Back to Me Online

Authors: Wanda B. Campbell

Back to Me (2 page)

She was still praying twenty minutes later, when the session ended, and resisted the urge to ask the girls to join hands in a circle for a closing prayer. She settled on humming as she packed her materials away and walked to her car. She increased the volume on the satellite radio station and sang the words to the number one gospel song in the nation as she exited the faculty parking lot. The words to the chorus hung in the air once she spotted Seniyah walking down the street alone. Normally, her star student caught the bus.
She pulled alongside the curb and stopped. “Seniyah,” Paige called before the power window fully descended. “What are you doing?” When Seniyah didn't answer, Paige shifted the gear into the park position and leaned toward the passenger window. “I said, ‘What are you doing?'” This time she yelled the question.
Seniyah shook her head and pointed at her ears, indicating that the music was too loud.
“Oh,” Paige mouthed and then adjusted the volume using the controls on the steering wheel and rephrased the original question. “It's starting to get dark. Why are you walking and not taking the bus?”
Seniyah repositioned her backpack strap on her shoulder. “I felt like walking. It's not too far.”
“But it's late,” Paige began, then stopped. For the first time she really studied the young lady she'd grown so fond of. Seniyah was about five feet, six inches tall. Her thick, wavy brown hair, which was pulled back and held together by a brown clip, matched the freckles sprinkled on her vanilla latte-colored face. Seniyah wasn't what her peers would consider pretty. She wasn't thin, and her clothing didn't complement her thick size, but Seniyah's determination to succeed reminded Paige of herself back in the day.
Chances were that Seniyah didn't have enough change to cover the bus fare, but Paige didn't want to crush her pride by asking.
“Get in, and I'll drive you. I'm going that way.”
Father, forgive me,
she thought, repenting for the half-truth she'd just told. Paige had planned on driving through Seniyah's neighborhood on the way to the food bank on Saturday morning, but not tonight.
Seniyah's head jerked from left to right. She turned and leaned around, as if looking for someone, until her eyes settled on something across the street.
“No thank you, Miss Paige. I h-have to go,” Seniyah stammered, then took off in the opposite direction.
By the time Paige repositioned herself in the driver's seat and looked across the street, whatever or whoever had captivated Seniyah's attention was gone.
Chapter 2
On Tuesday morning Paige dragged herself into the office, more tired than the day before. This morning her overfatigued body required a venti double espresso from Starbucks. Over the years Paige had patronized the coffee chain so much that the company had issued her a gold gift card with her name engraved on it. For an additional stimulant, Paige cashed in her reward points for a chocolate brownie.
She'd every intention of going straight home after the junior entrepreneur class last night and catching up on some much-needed rest, but the demons from her past had manifested themselves in her dreams and had robbed her of tranquility. In times past, the days leading up to the procedure's anniversary date were torture. Once the day was over, Paige's life returned to what she considered normal—endless hours of serving the Lord and her community. Along with the cries of her aborted fetus, last night's nightmares had included a new face—Seniyah's. Paige attributed the intrusion to the teenager's uncharacteristic behavior after class, and to nothing more.
She dropped her leather briefcase beside her desk and then flopped into the leather chair she loved so much and sipped her venti espresso. The clock on the wall read 7:30 a.m.—thirty minutes later than her usual arrival time, and yet she still had ninety minutes of solace left before the agents would began trickling in. She booted her computer and viewed her calendar. With only four listing appointments scheduled, Paige could plan to end the workday at five o'clock and head straight home. Tuesdays were her only free night, and she planned to take full advantage this evening by catching up on the sleep the past had stolen from her last night.
Two hours later, enjoying songs of worship through the computer speakers, Paige was still buzzing from the dark liquid and the brownie. Fatigue was long forgotten as she balanced the company's trust account and then reviewed the presentation folders for the potential listing clients. She didn't doubt for a second that she'd get each home owner to sign on the dotted line. She already had eager and qualified buyers ready to purchase a home in each of the neighborhoods. Thanks to the Bay Area's high home values, the 6 percent commission from the transactions would garner her enough income to cover household expenses and contribute to her savings for at least a year.
“Thank you, Jesus,” she whispered. “You always take good care of me. If you would just give me . . .” The Sister Sledge “We Are Family” ringtone ended her plea.
“Hey, Ma,” Paige sang into the phone. “How was the trip?”
Paige had shared her success by sending her parents on a thirteen-day Alaska and Canada cruise for their thirty-fifth wedding anniversary. Or what her mother referred to as their fortieth anniversary, since she had lived with Paige's father for five years and had birthed two children before he finally popped the question. In her father's version, he had to get married after Paige's mother—pregnant with their third child—showed up at his job with his clothes stuffed into garbage bags, demanding that he either make an honest woman out of her or move out. Since he didn't have anywhere to go, he took the remainder of the day off and went down to the county courthouse and married his sweetie pie. Thirty-five years later, Paige's father still referred to her mother by that endearing term. Paige prayed endlessly to one day experience half the love her parents shared.
“The cruise was wonderful! Thank you so much. You are such a good daughter. Alaska was beautiful, and your father and I played around like we did before y'all were born.” Her mother giggled. “After all this time, that man is still a hot mess.”
Paige joined in her mother's joy. “I'm so glad you had a good time. You and Daddy deserve it after all the sacrifices you made for us through the years.” Her parents had worked for thirty years to maintain a stable home in the suburbs and to put Paige, her older brother, and her younger sister through college.
“Did you bring me something back?” Paige asked to sidetrack her mother and prevent her from showering her with more accolades. Humility was a quality that Paige practiced daily, believing that if she humbled herself, God would exalt her, or at least give her the desires of her heart.
“Of course, I got T-shirts and magnets and key chains for everyone I know. If I could have stuffed one into my suitcase and got through the security checkpoint, I would have brought you back one of them Alaskan men.” Her mother's laughter filled her ear. “There sure are some fine men up there, and you can use something or someone to occupy your time.”
“Mama!” Paige exclaimed. “How can you say that? You know I'm saved.”
Her mother smirked. “I know the Lord too, but I'm smart enough to know Jesus and that real estate office won't keep you warm at night or make you sweat out a new hairdo.”
“Ma, I'm getting off the phone now. Kiss Daddy for me.” Paige disconnected the call before her mother went into her “When are you going to get a man?” speech. She'd heard that mantra enough over the years, especially since her younger sister married and had two children.
Although her parents professed salvation, from Paige's viewpoint they were too “worldly.” Whereas Paige attended church practically every time the doors opened, her parents limited their attendance to the 8 a.m. service on Sunday. They danced and listened to R & B music and didn't see anything wrong with a glass of wine with dinner. Paige attributed their casual approach to Christianity to the fact that they were new converts, having joined the church just two years prior. Her parents just didn't understand that she was totally committed to the church and to doing the work of the Lord. She had to be; it was her only chance to right her wrong.
Paige stood and walked the length of her mahogany desk. After sitting for two hours, a good stretch was in order. She was no longer sleepy, but her muscles remained stiff. With her door only slightly ajar, she enjoyed enough privacy to do some of the stretches she'd learned back in her high school and college track days. As a symbol of modesty, Paige routinely wore her relaxed, past-shoulder-length hair pulled back into a bun or a ponytail and held it in place with a gold clip. Freedom from flowing hair allowed her to drop easily onto the carpeted floor and into a cat stretch.
While on her hands and knees, Paige closed her eyes, slowly let her back and abdomen sag toward the floor, and then arched her back, as if she were trying to pull her abdomen toward the ceiling.
“Excuse me, miss,” a deep voice interrupted before she could return her body to the starting position.
Paige lost her concentration and collapsed facedown on the floor.
“Sorry, miss. I didn't mean to startle you.” The gentleman stepped over her leg and reached down to help her up. “But I didn't see anyone out front. I heard music coming from this direction and—”
“How did you get in here?” she snapped and slapped his hand away.
The man stepped back and folded his arms. “Through the front door,” he answered, and Paige didn't miss the smug expression or the sarcasm.
After maneuvering herself upright, Paige used her hands to smooth her skirt and blouse and prayed the stranger wasn't a future client. That way she wouldn't have to see him again and be reminded that he'd caught her in an awkward position.
“I repeat, how did you get in here?” Paige asked, planting her fist against her waist. “The office doesn't open for another”—she paused and looked up at the wall clock—“fifteen minutes.”
“That may be, but the front door is unlocked and the lights are on. In western civilization that usually means an establishment is open for business.”
“Western etiquette also dictates that one should announce oneself when entering a place of business and then wait to be invited into the confines of my office,” Paige snapped back, which was completely out of character for her, but she was embarrassed. Normally, it was her smile that greeted people, not her rear end.
“This is
your
office?”
Paige folded her arms and stuck her chin out proudly, “Yes. This is
my
office and
my
building.” She glared at the intruder as he unfolded his arms and leaned around her and read the gold-trimmed nameplate on the desk. That was when she noticed the chiseled biceps and pectorals outlined in the Under Armour long-sleeved crewneck shirt. The slightly hairy, bulging quadriceps weren't bad, either.
“You're Paige McDaniels?” he asked incredulously.
“Are you hard of hearing as well?” she asked after a silent rebuke for admiring the stranger's body.
“Wow,” he said, facing her again. “You're Paige McDaniels,” he repeated, this time rubbing his chin.
The brief but thorough visual inspection made Paige uncomfortable, causing her to second-guess her modest attire.
“Now that you know my name, would you mind telling me who you are and what you're doing in my office so early in the morning? Uninvited, I might add.”
The stranger offered her a full smile and in a firm tone said, “I am a man who's particular about where I spend my money, and I chose not to patronize a place of business whose owner is rude and insulting. Even if she's beautiful and has a nice rear end.”
Paige gasped.
“Have a good day, Miss McDaniels.”
Paige's mouth gaped as the stranger disappeared down the hall and then walked out of the building. What had just happened? She had never lost a potential client due to a bad attitude, and under no circumstance would she insult someone she'd never met before. Somehow she managed to do both while listening to worship music. “I'll have to fast an extra day for this one,” she mumbled on the way back to her seat.
Chapter 3
Paige paused long enough to wipe perspiration from her forehead, using the back of her hand. Normally, while bagging food, she didn't exert so much energy, but with the bad economy and the high unemployment rate, the food bank was experiencing an increase in clients. The longer lines caused Paige to move twice as fast to keep up with the demand. Too busy to slip a printed invite to her church inside each bag, Paige said a quick prayer over each bag before placing it in the rotation for handing out.
Praying the strangers in need would be able to stretch the food bags until their next pay cycle had to gain Paige some atonement for her attitude the past three days. She'd prayed, fasted, and read the Bible every day, but none of that had yielded her a peaceful night's rest. Wednesday night Bible study and the all-night intercessory prayer hadn't removed the guilt she felt over uncharacteristically snapping at everyone in her office for things as minor as forgetting to turn off the conference room light. This morning, as she'd done every day since receiving salvation, Paige promised God she wouldn't do anything to bring shame to the kingdom.
“I tell you, these lines get longer every week,” the lady working next to Paige stated as they removed the packaging from a case of pasta sauce. “If it weren't for God's grace, I'd be standing on the other side.”
Paige read the name tag on the left side of the woman's chest. “Loraine, isn't that the truth.” Paige paused momentarily to observe those on the opposite side of the partition, who were waiting for food. Nowadays, the “needy” weren't so easy to spot. With the bad economy, need no longer equated to dirty, smelly clothing, matted hair, and worn-down shoes. A good portion of those in line appeared to be working-class people who just so happened to come up short at the end of every month.
Her eyes zeroed in on two people who she assumed were a mother and her teenage son, and for a split second, jealousy gripped her. The mother appeared to be scolding her son, who seemed embarrassed to be there. She would trade in all her success for a chance to stand in any line with her son, to argue with him about homework and expensive tennis shoes, or even about cleaning his room.
Loraine's tap on her shoulder brought Paige's focus back to the task at hand. “We'd better move faster. This line is multiplying.”
Paige shook her head to clear it. She had to stay focused if she wanted to keep from being trampled. The people in line looked as if they would pounce on her any second for the bag of groceries. With renewed energy, she grabbed two five-pound bags of potatoes and stuffed them inside two empty bags. Several bags later, Paige became distracted again.
“Hello, Miss Paige.”
She knew that voice. After stuffing cabbage and a bag of rice inside a bag, Paige turned around and looked into the eyes of her prized student.
“Seniyah? What are you doing here?” As soon as the words left her mouth, Paige regretted them. Given her home dynamics, if anyone needed free groceries, it was Seniyah. Paige felt the young girl's embarrassment when her shoulders slumped and her head dropped. “I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you. I'm surprised to see you, that's all.”
“My mother couldn't make it today, so I had to come.” Seniyah used her arms to close her worn jacket with the missing buttons but didn't raise her head.
Paige's heart went out to the young girl. More than likely, Seniyah needed the groceries to keep from starving next week. As hard as she tried to understand Seniyah's hardship, Paige couldn't fully comprehend it. Her father had made sure their family never went without. Paige wiped sweat beads from her forehead, mentally tuned out the chaos around her, and studied the young woman. Something wasn't right. Seniyah's wavy hair was more unkempt than normal, and her eyes appeared glossy.
“Are you feeling all right?” Paige asked while gently placing an arm around the girl's shoulders.
Seniyah lifted her head, but her eyes were focused on the volunteers behind Paige. “I'm just tired. It's been a long morning.”
“Don't I know it.” Paige patted her shoulder and then went to select a bag for her. Before handing Seniyah the bag, she added an additional bag of rice and a box of cereal.
“Thank you,” Seniyah said, balancing the bag against her hip and finally making eye contact.
“Anytime.” Paige smiled as an idea formed in her mind. She would try to minister to Seniyah. “If you can stick around for about forty-five minutes, we can go and have lunch, and then I'll drive you home.”
Seniyah's head shook almost violently. “No, thank you, Miss Paige. I can walk. It's not that far. I have a lot of work to do around the house. Plus, I have homework. And I still have to do a marketing plan for DWAP before Monday's session.” Her words ran together, and Paige assumed Seniyah was too embarrassed about her appearance to hang out.
“Well, maybe next time,” Paige said, acquiescing, although she was disappointed. She would have loved to spend some uninterrupted time mentoring Seniyah. There were so many things she could teach her to prepare her for college. “Keeping those grades up is your number one priority. Stanford is waiting.” Paige beamed with pride.
Loraine cleared her throat.
“I have to get back to work. I'll see you on Monday,” Paige told Seniyah.
“Sure,” Seniyah answered hurriedly and then rushed away.
“Call me if you need my help,” Paige called after her, but Seniyah had disappeared in the sea of the less fortunate. She shrugged off the quick dismissal and dove back into her work.
Fifteen minutes later, when the next person she recognized approached, Paige nearly dropped a sack of potatoes on her foot.
“Let me help you with that,” the gentleman offered and at the same time bent down and picked up the potatoes. “I need two bags please,” he announced once he was upright.
Paige's mouth hung open as she fixated on the stranger who had barged into her office four days ago and had left her feeling like an idiot. She hadn't noticed the goatee and the square chin at their first meeting. He couldn't have been wearing that citrus-scented fragrance, either; surely she would have noticed that. He looked right through Paige as if she wasn't there.
“Where would you like me to set these?” he asked, holding up the sack of potatoes.
“Since you need two bags, you can keep those,” Loraine said when Paige didn't respond readily.
“Thank you, miss.”
Paige stood back and watched Loraine blush and pat her hair and then straighten her clothing. In a matter of seconds the man with the light brown skin and black, wavy hair had Loraine acting like a teenager. Paige shook her head in disgust.
“What are you doing here?” Paige failed to hide the irritation in her tone. Certainly this man with the perfect set of ultra-white, straight teeth and the designer jeans, not to mention the leather jacket, wasn't in need of free groceries.
The man offered a smirk instead of a smile. “Miss McDaniels, we meet again. You're not a morning or an afternoon person. Let's plan our next chance meeting at night. Maybe your manners will kick in by then.”
“Ouch!” Loraine said and then resumed stuffing bags.
Paige refused to allow someone who was taking from those who really needed assistance to insult her. “Don't worry about my manners. At least I don't steal from the needy.” She felt a healthy dose of satisfaction when the smile fell from his face.
He gestured for the guy behind him to go in front of him. “So you think I'm a thief because I asked for two bags?”
Paige placed a completed bag on the table in front of him. “The fact that you're in this line at all is sinful. Your jeans cost more than most of the people in this neighborhood make in a month. A few days ago you waltz into my business, claiming to have money to burn. And now you're in the free food line?” Paige folded her arms and cocked her head to the side. “Sounds like stealing from the poor to me.”
“You are a real piece of work.” He shook his head. “And just think, you do all this in the name of the Lord. I hate to think how you would act if you didn't know Jesus.”
Paige paused, then placed the second bag on the table. “What is that supposed to mean?”
He balanced both bags in his arms before answering. “It's simple. When you pick up that big Bible I know you have at home, try reading Matthew chapter seven, verse one, while listening to that worship music. Then get a good dictionary to break down the words for you. Then maybe you can
live
the Word and not just read it.”
Paige's cheeks burned with anger. “Just what do you know about the Word?” she barked, forgetting she was in a building filled with people she was supposed to be helping.
“Obviously, a lot more than you.”
As she watched the stranger walk away, Paige's mouth hung open for the second time that day.

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