Nobody’s Child (New Life Tabernacle Series Book 1) (2 page)

"
G
irl
, you're soaking wet! Get on in here! Why ain't you wearing a jacket?" Sister Ealy, the head usher at New Life Tabernacle’s front doors, pulled Makayla in from the pouring rain.

She was shivering so hard, her teeth chattered as she spoke. "I don't have one. Can’t afford it."

It had been a choice between that or the new dress and hair appointment. Talk about buyer’s remorse… Now she’d have to wait till her next check to get a coat.

Sister Ealy sucked her teeth and led Makayla into the ladies lounge, all the while shaking her head. "Not even an umbrella?" The way she put the emphasis on the first syllable of the word made Makayla smile.

"No, ma'am."

Another bad decision.

Sister Ealy reached into a cabinet and yanked out one of the folded sheets used to cover women when they “got happy” while wearing shorter skirts and attempted to dry Makayla’s clothes.

"Awww, baby, you soaked right on through to your undergarments. Turn around here and let me get your back."

Although they never said it to her face, Makayla had heard some people in the church refer to Sister Ealy as "cantankerous.” Makayla didn’t agree. Gruff? Maybe. But she was one of the first people to talk to her when she came to New Life. Seeing how upset she was as she tried to dry her off and keep her warm reminded Makayla of her grandmother.

Was that going to keep happening all day?

"And I mean straight through! Lord, have mercy. What did you do? Just stand out in the rain and stare at the sky?"

"Not on purpose. I have two bus transfers to get here. Nothing I could do but wait till they showed up."

Sister Ealy got a fresh sheet and continued to dry Makayla off, steady shaking her head and fussing under her breath.

"Riding the bus in this sort of weather. My Lord. Ain't got the sense God gave a duck… Well, bless your heart. At least you’re here.”

When she realized there was no way she'd ever get Makayla completely dry, she gave up trying. "Now listen, I'm on the door at the end of service, so I'm gonna find someone to give you a ride, you hear? Don't you even think about trying to catch no bus."

Makayla grinned and kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you, Sister Ealy."

The woman pursed her lips as she folded the wet sheets and, without looking up, replied, "Mmm, hmm. Now go somewhere and sit your behind down."

M
akayla sat
on the very last pew on the right side of the church and waited. Despite having to catch another bus, she'd arrived before service began.

Every time someone entered the sanctuary, she nearly gave herself whiplash trying to see who it was. Although she did her best to look cool and collected, she was anything but.

She didn't have a watch or a phone, so she had no way of knowing how much time passed, but each minute felt like an hour. She tried to distract herself by reading the church program, but would stare at a sentence for several minutes before realizing she hadn’t read anything at all.

It was too hard to concentrate with all the thoughts racing through her mind. Would her mother be arriving with just her husband or her entire family? How many kids did she have? How old were they? Did they look anything like Makayla? She didn't have to wonder whether the husband or kids knew she existed. She was sure they didn't. Of course, that was all about to change.

But the question that kept coming up over and over again, the one Makayla found herself embarrassed to even ask was, will she recognize me?

It was a stupid question. Of course, she wouldn't recognize her. How could she? But a part of Makayla, a very small part, hoped she would. She knew it was wishful thinking, the kind of thing she’d sworn off years ago, but still…

Singers began to fill the choir stand and the musicians geared up for praise and worship. As the trickle of arriving congregants turned into a steady flow, Makayla wished she had a photo of Robin Jones.

There were hundreds of members at New Life that attended over two morning sessions. Pinpointing her mother among them would be near impossible. Before now, she hadn't really thought about that. But as more and more people poured into the sanctuary for Sunday morning service, Makayla realized she might never find her without help.

She stood and searched the pews for Sister Caren Turner. She was the talkative member that had provided Makayla with most of her information about Robin when she’d first arrived. Surely she’d be willing to point out Robin Jones for her now.

But locating Sister Turner proved to be as difficult as finding Robin. Makayla returned to her seat, disappointed. Realizing the whole day was a bust, she picked up her messenger bag and made for the door.

It was then, as she approached the back of the church, a woman walked through the double doors. Upon seeing her, Makayla’s heart nearly stopped.

M
akayla knew
it was her the moment she saw her. She didn’t know how or why, she just did.

Throughout worship and into the next part of the service, Makayla couldn't concentrate on anything else. She moved up twelve pews for a better view and tried not to stare. Though she would've hated to admit it, she was in complete awe.

Robin’s skin was the color of toffee and perfectly smooth. The garnet-red suit she wore had to be tailor-made because it fit her like she was a mannequin in the window of a high-priced boutique. Her hair cascaded like a black waterfall around her shoulders and looked good enough to be a weave. Makayla knew it wasn't though, because hers looked just the same.

After a scripture passage was read and a long-winded prayer recited, the organist began playing a song that signaled what Makayla thought of as the "meet and greet" portion of the service. Basically, everyone got up and hugged and kissed and shook hands with everyone else. It was
not
her favorite part of the morning.

This time, however, was different. This time it would give her an excuse to get an up-close and personal look at the woman she’d only seen in her imagination.

Makayla was up, out of her seat and moving toward Robin before she could stop herself. The closer she came to the woman's pew, the more she felt her knees would give out.

For years, she thought she'd have to restrain herself from cussing her mother out the second she saw her. So she wasn’t prepared for being speechless. And that was just the result of being within a few feet of the woman. No telling what would happen if Robin looked at her.

Makayla didn’t get the chance to find out.

In less than two minutes, close to half the congregation swarmed the area just to greet Robin. Makayla hung back and watched. Because she had disliked her so much, she’d always assumed other people would, too. But it was just the opposite. They
loved
her. It was like Mrs. Obama was in the house.

Stranger still was how Robin was with them. She greeted each person as if he or she was a long lost family member. Nothing like what anyone would expect from a woman who’d abandoned her own.

It made no sense to Makayla. It had to be an act, right? This was Robin’s "church face”? Regardless, people couldn’t get enough.

Church mothers, choir members, deacons, children—there didn't seem to be anyone exempt from the charm of Robin Caroline Jones. People were all but lined up to get a hug and hello. Makayla stared at them in disbelief. She'd been coming to the church for weeks now and hadn't seen anything like it.

Makayla was so busy watching how everyone else reacted to Robin, she hadn't noticed that Robin, while making her way through the crowd, had ended up right next to her. When their eyes met, Makayla froze.

"Good morning, baby.” She leaned in to hug her. Out of pure shock, Makayla jerked back.

To answer the puzzled look on Robin's face, she mumbled, "I'm all wet. The rain."

Robin sucked her teeth and opened her arms. "Girl, don't nobody care about that."

She smiled and it was like somebody turned on the sun. She put her arms around Makayla and squeezed her. It wasn't one of the fake little pat-hugs Makayla had seen some people give each other over the last few weeks. It was a genuine embrace. Despite her resistance, tears sprang to Makayla's eyes. She couldn't remember the last time someone had held her. It had to have been over ten years.

At that moment, everything Makayla thought she knew—about the world, herself, her life, this woman—ceased to make sense. In a split second, it all flipped upside down. She must've been wrong. She must've been mistaken. This wasn't a heartless woman. This was her
mother
. This was where she belonged.

She was only in her arms for a moment, but it was long enough to mess up everything. Long enough for Makayla to doubt the plan she’d worked toward for five years. Long enough for her to forget the pain and loneliness and neglect. Long enough for her to imagine perhaps Robin had missed her, too.

All she had to do was tell her.

Makayla opened her mouth to say the words she never thought she’d say when she finally met the woman that had abandoned her:
I'm the baby you left with Ms. Baptiste. Do you remember that morning? The morning you walked out the door? I've heard the story a thousand times. I begged her to tell me over and over. She made you Cream of Wheat. But you just sat there, staring down at the bowl. You must've known what you're about to do. Do you remember? Please tell me you remember…

"Sister Jones!"

It was a girl that looked to be Makayla’s age, running in their direction. Robin let go of Makayla and turned to the girl with open arms.

“Sugar Baby!”

The two of them embraced and rocked back and forth as Makayla stood behind them, feeling like an idiot.

W
hen church was dismissed
, Makayla lingered along the edges of the sanctuary, watching Robin. While still keeping her distance, she continued to observe as Robin made her way to the exit, hugging and kissing other congregants as she went.

The closer she got to the door, the harder Makayla's heart pounded. She wanted a few more minutes with her. The hug was so quick. She needed more time. Everything was so mixed up and confused now. Makayla needed an opportunity to talk to her, to figure out what kind of person she really was.

But what could she do? She had no real reason to approach Robin. She couldn’t just stand in front of her and hope something happened. At the thought of having to wait another week to see her again, Makayla’s heart sank.

But then Robin stopped at the door to talk to Sister Ealy and Makayla had an idea. It was a long shot, but she had nothing to lose if it didn't work. And if it
did
work, she'd get the one-on-one time with Robin she so desperately wanted.

Rushing up behind the two women standing at the open doors, Makayla "bumped" into Robin, allowing herself to trip and nearly tumble down the church steps and into the steady drizzle outside. Both women gasped as they reached out to break her fall.

"Oh, Lord! Baby, are you all right?"

Makayla covered her head with that morning's church program as protection from the rain. "I'm so sorry! I just can't miss my bus—“

Before Makayla could finish, Sister Ealy grabbed her upper arm and swung her back through the doors. Makayla winced. For being such a small woman, Sister Ealy had a powerful grip.

"Now didn't I tell you? You ain't riding no bus in this rain!” She held on to Makayla as she freely and loudly complained to Robin.

"This knuckle-headed child done rode the bus all the way over in this here rain. No jacket. No umbrella. No nothing! Walked up in here looking like a cat somebody done pulled out the lake.”

Robin looked at Makayla with raised eyebrows, smiling. As Sister Ealy continued, her grip tightened around Makayla's arm, the pain reflecting on Makayla’s face.

"And I specifically said: Come talk to me. I'll find someone to take you home. But, no! Here she is running out to catch a bus. I guess I'm just wasting my time, using up the precious breath God gave me, talking to myself, 'cause she sure ain't listening."

"Awww…” Robin looked at the pained expression on Makayla's face and put her arm around her shoulder. "Don't worry, Sister Ealy. I'll give her a ride and fuss at her all the way there."

M
akayla's impromptu plan worked
. She'd gotten what she wanted—time with Robin. That was the good news. The bad news was, once she had it, she found her brain stuck in park. She was so focused on getting near Robin, she hadn't considered what to do once she was. 

Just don’t say or do anything stupid and you’ll be fine…

Once inside the car, Robin asked, “Where do you live?”

It was a simple question. A normal person would’ve said something like, ‘Get off at Cooper and take Cooper to Park Row. I’ll tell you where to go from there.’ But at that moment, Makayla didn’t possess the capacity for normal, so instead of giving a normal answer, in a normal tone, she blurted out her street and building number as if she’d been asked for her mailing address.

So much for not doing anything stupid.

Robin grinned as she entered the address into the GPS unit. “Specific. I like it.” The screen brought up a map with the route represented by a red line.

Robin put on a pair of sunglasses with the word,
Dior
, on the side and reached for her seatbelt. "This is over by the university, right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"A college girl! Well, all right then."

Makayla shrank. College girl? Not even close. She’d never graduated. She passed out of high school with a GED so she could have more time to work. That wasn’t the kind of thing someone like Robin would find admirable.

“Are you thinking of pledging?” Robin asked, backing out of the parking space.

“Uh, yeah.”

No sooner than she said the words, Makayla’s face burned with shame. She turned her head away from Robin and looked out the window.

“Well,” Robin said, moving into the flow of traffic. “I’m gonna save you some time and tell you don’t even bother considering anything but Delta Sigma Theta!” She laughed. “Though I might be biased.”

Makayla gave a little chuckle and swallowed. She needed to steer the conversation away from this college stuff.

“These speakers are crazy. Sounds like I’m in a movie theater instead of a car.”

"You can change the station if you'd like."

"No, it’s okay. I love gospel.”

Yeah, right. Makayla couldn't name five gospel singers if her life depended on it. The only one she knew was the dude Kim always listened to. Marc? Marvin? Myron… Nope. Couldn’t name him either. Hopefully, Robin wouldn’t ask her to elaborate.

Makayla rubbed her hands together, trying to relieve the chill in her fingers. Robin noticed.

"Let's warm you up."

She pushed a few buttons and the next thing Makayla knew, her behind got warm. When she pushed herself up off the seat, Robin laughed.

"What the—“ Makayla stopped herself a fraction of a second before she said something completely ungodly.

"Seat warmers."

"More like bun toasters," Makayla said, settling back in.

Once she got over the initial shock, it was wonderful. She ran her hand along the glossy walnut veneer of the car door. The closest she’d ever come to seeing a car like Robin’s was in commercials on TV. The seats had a diamond pattern stitched into the impossibly soft leather and were cushier than any chair she’d ever sat in.

"This is nice. Your husband must love you for real.”

Robin laughed again. "No husband. But thank you."

"Divorced?"

Robin raised an eyebrow, but the corners of her lips also pulled up in amusement. "Nope. I'm what they used to call an 'old maid.’”

As in never married? That made no sense. Why would a woman that looked like her be single? Makayla always figured that was one of the reasons she left her. Wasn't it easier to get a good man if you didn’t already have kids in tow? And speaking of kids… Did that mean she didn't have any?

“Don't you want to get married? Have kids?"

Makayla stiffened. She hadn’t intended every question that ran through her mind to spill out her mouth.

The amused smile disappeared and Robin tugged at her seatbelt. Exhaling deeply, she pushed a button on the dashboard, lowering the heat.

"I wanted to warm you up, not cook you. You getting too hot?"

"I'm fine."

"Just let me know."

They rode in silence for a few blocks. Makayla scolded herself. First, she lied about being in school, then she immediately proceeded to get in the woman’s business. She wanted to know more about her, but that wasn't going to happen by making her uncomfortable. She waited until they stopped at a red light to try to smooth things over.

"I'm sorry, Sister Jones. I didn't mean to offend you."

"Oh, baby, you didn't offend me. And call me Robin."

"Robin? Oh, okay." Makayla paused, choosing her words carefully. "I could’ve sworn I heard someone call you Carrie…"

Robin looked at Makayla. The car behind them honked when the light turned green. She stepped off the break.

"Who… Who said that?" she asked, staring at the road.

Makayla pretended to think on it. "Umm... I don't remember exactly. It was when I first got here. I still didn't know who was who. I could be wrong." Makayla shrugged and laughed it off. "I thought someone had said your name was Caroline or something like that. Maybe they were talking about someone else.”

Makayla saw Robin swallow hard.

"No, that's my name. My middle name, anyway. But I go by my first name…" Her voice trailed off.

Makayla saw she’d struck a nerve. She was still pushing too hard. She’d mess everything up if she didn’t stop being so reckless.

"Wow. First I get all in your business, then I get your name wrong. Just kick me out at the curb. I deserve it." She tried to laugh, hoping it didn’t sound as fake to Robin’s ears as it did to her own.

Robin chuckled, the dark clouds lifting. "Girl, you better get your little paws off that door handle. I'm not dropping you at any curb except the one in front of your house!"

Makayla knew by the familiar neighborhood surroundings, that would be soon. She’d already learned more about her mother than she knew when she woke up that morning, but it wasn't enough.

Somehow, within the space of a few hours, Robin had become the drug and Makayla, the addict. She needed more. But since every time she opened her mouth, she stuck her foot in it, she was afraid to talk. However, the closer they got to her street, the more her need for information outweighed her fear.

“Sister Jones—“

Robin gave her a sideways glance.

"Robin… Is it all right if I ask… What do you do? Your job, I mean?"

"Well, I practiced as a therapist for quite a few years. But now I speak, write, and consult as a life coach."

“Write? Like, books?"

“Mmm hmm.”

When Makayla first saw Robin, she'd assumed the familiarity she’d felt was some sort of biological bond. Now she realized it was more likely due to something else.

"Wait. You were on that morning show. The one with Oprah's friend. You're famous!"

"Obviously, not.” Robin laughed out loud.

Makayla leaned back in her seat, dumbstruck.

"No, I mean, I recognized you. I just thought—“ She stopped herself before she said too much. "I've never met anyone, you know, like you."

Robin shook her head. "And I'm pretty sure I've never met anyone like you either."

Minutes later, they came to a stop in front of Makayla's building. She put her hand on the handle, but Robin didn't unlock the doors. Looking in her rearview, she eyed the group of guys gathered under an awning outside the apartment building.

Makayla fought the urge to smile. She didn't say anything, but she knew exactly what Robin was thinking: they looked like thugs.

She could tell Robin was the type of person that didn't like to pre-judge. Young black men standing in a group on a corner didn't necessarily mean trouble. Well, maybe in some other neighborhood. But Makayla grew up in the sticks. She knew thugs when she saw thugs and those guys were most definitely thugs.

She watched Robin as her eyes wandered to the building behind the guys. The place was a dump. The kind of scene regular people crossed the street to avoid. And not just because the building was falling apart. Makayla's block had quite a few "street-corner entrepreneurs".

Not that Makayla was one to judge, either. As far as she was concerned, a dollar was a dollar, however you got it. That being said, Makayla could tell by the way Robin held her mouth tight, she probably wouldn’t agree. Truth was, that kind of business came hand in hand with violence. But the place was low cost and easy to rent, precisely what Makayla had needed.

"Go straight to your apartment and lock the door."

Makayla snickered. "Umm, okay… Thanks for the ride."

"What did I say?"

Makayla mimicked her instructions in a way that made Robin smile, even as she tried not to. She unlocked the doors, but stopped Makayla before she got out.

"Listen, why don't I start picking you up and dropping you off every Sunday?"

Makayla blinked. Did she just hear right?

“Uh…”

Say yes, dummy! Just say yes!

“Okay.”

Robin watched the young men through her readjusted rearview mirror. The two women, as well as the brand-new Jaguar, had their undivided attention.

"I'll be here at 9:45 AM. Be ready."

A
s Makayla headed
for the lobby door of her building, the tallest of the guys standing outside nodded his head toward her.

"Where you been? All dressed up, looking like a supermodel?"

“Hey Antoine.”

He looked in the direction of the silver Jaguar. “You got some new friends, I see.”

“It’s just my ride from church.”

“Church, huh?” Antoine nodded his head and rubbed his hands together, a smirk on his face. "Now, that's what I'm talking about. I like them church girls. They the closet freaks." He looked back over his shoulder when he said it, getting nods of agreement and plenty of laughs out of his boys.

Makayla did her best to prevent her disgust from showing on her face. She reached for the handle. "Boy, you the one that needs Jesus!"

Antoine followed that up with another vulgar comment as Makayla slipped through the lobby doors. Maybe talking to Antoine wasn't such a good idea. The last thing she wanted to do was make him think she was interested in him. On the other hand, ignoring him when he spoke didn’t seem wise either. She’d just try to avoid him in the future.

Once she got to her floor, Makayla called in to the slightly opened door of the apartment next to hers. "Hey, Mr. Rodney. I’m back.”

Rodney was the first friend she’d made when she came to town. He went out of his way to be friendly and answer any questions she had. Since the beginning, he made her promise to always let him know when she was leaving and when she came home.

Through snippets of conversation here and there, she’d learned he and his common-law wife were recovering addicts. It was just the two of them. No pets, no kids. She wasn't sure why he’d taken an interest in her, but she appreciated it.

She'd unlocked her door and opened it when Rodney came out into the hall, the rich and hearty aroma of beef stew following him. Upon seeing him, she slammed her door shut. She was fine with him sharing the details of his life, but she didn't need him to know any more about her than he already did. One look in her room and he'd have questions. Makayla didn’t like giving explanations.

Rodney pretended not to notice her odd behavior.

"Denice done made some vegetable and beef stew. We got plenty. You're welcome to come by."

At the thought of tasting the stew, Makayla’s stomach growled.

"I got an early shift tomorrow, so I’m going to bed soon."

Just behind him, she caught a glimpse of Denice peeking around the doorframe. No sooner than Makayla noticed her, she disappeared.

"Thanks for inviting me though."

He nodded, glancing at her closed door. "I understand. Don't work too hard, you hear?"

She smiled and waited until Rodney was inside his apartment before opening the door and entering her own. She took off her shoes and headed straight to the kitchenette.

She filled the one pot she owned was water and set it on the stove to boil. Once the water was bubbling, she took one of the packages of Ramen noodles out of the case she kept on the floor and tore it open, dropping the block in the water.

It definitely wasn't the mouthwatering stew waiting at Rodney's, but it didn't come at the price of social interaction either. The less people knew about Makayla or her life, the better.

Besides, she didn't want to spend the afternoon making small talk. She needed to figure out how five years worth of dogged determination got turned sideways in the space of one day.