Nobody’s Child (New Life Tabernacle Series Book 1) (3 page)

M
onday morning found
Makayla at work and no less confused than she’d been the day before.

She yawned and leaned over the cash register to get a better look at the clock on the wall.

12:43 PM.

She still had seventeen minutes left on her shift. It might as well have been seventeen hours. The entire morning had moved at the speed of molasses.

She'd spent the whole night mulling over her first meeting with Robin. Her shift started at five in the morning and she did her best to get some sleep, but she just couldn't get her brain to shut off.

She analyzed and then reanalyzed everything. Every glance, every expression, every word, every inflection. For hours, she searched her memory of the encounter, looking for even a hint of the woman she’d expected to find.

Her mother was supposed to be the bad guy. Selfish, freeloading, irresponsible and, according to Kim, “One step away from a hooker." Not that anyone would ever call Kim a reliable source, but she’d met Makayla's mother, which was more than Makayla could claim.

According to Kim, Makayla's mother didn't even know who Makayla's father was. And since no one else did either, who could argue?

Either way, the woman she’d pictured in her mind and the woman she met at New Life Tabernacle were not one and the same.

Makayla had to admit, Robin came off as a decent person. Did that mean Kim had made everything up or had Robin changed since Kim knew her? Makayla was willing to believe people could change, but
that
much? To go from a promiscuous woman willing to abandon her newborn child with near strangers to an upstanding churchgoer who everyone loved?

No, something wasn’t right…

It could all be an act. Makayla had seen Kim go from Jekyll to Hyde in three seconds flat. And she had a particular talent for doing so when no one else was around. As a result, Makayla knew plenty about two-faced people. And one of the things she knew was this: they
always
slipped up.

For every hypocrite out there, there was at least one person, somewhere, who knew the truth. So before Makayla made up her mind once and for all about going through with her plan against Robin, she needed to find that one person.

She'd already come up empty at the church. All Sister Turner had heard was that Robin left years ago and came back different.

What “different” meant or even why she’d left in the first place, was anyone's guess. Sister Turner wouldn’t give any details. Makayla wasn't convinced she knew any. But one thing was clear—there was a story there.

And that story could be the key to everything.

Now that she knew Robin was a public figure, maybe it was time to widen her search.

Makayla looked at the time again. She still had little over an hour before DeShawn's shift at the computer lab ended.

DeShawn was a university student that she'd gotten to know over the past few weeks. He rode a motorcycle and came by the gas station at least once a week to fill up and restock his supply of Big Red gum.

He was cute and thought she was cute and in no time at all, they were talking. When she told him she couldn't check out a website he’d recommended because she didn't own a computer, he suggested she come to the computer lab at the school. He manned the morning shift at one of the labs as a part of his work-study and said he’d sneak her in whenever he was on the sign-up sheet.

The minute her coworker, Jackson clocked in, she’d head straight to the lab.

"Now, if it isn't Beverly Johnson, herself!"

Makayla looked up to see one of her regulars, Reginald Sanford. She rolled her eyes and laughed. He always called her by the name of some supermodel. Last week it was Iman. The week before, Naomi Campbell. Next week, he'd be back to Tyra Banks because he was so old school, that was the most recent model he knew by name.

"How you doing today, Mr. Sanford?"

He was in his standard getup: a bright white undershirt stretched to its limit across his plentiful belly, a well-worn pair of maroon sweatpants, Birkenstocks, and a toothpick hanging out the side of his mouth.

"I'm spectacular, as per usual," he replied.

Mr. Sanford was the manager for several minor singing groups, but a major celebrity in his own mind. Though he wasn't quite the big deal he thought, he was pretty well known in the metroplex. Outside of a search on the internet, he was probably the closest Makayla would get to someone who new the truth about her mother.

She waited until he’d gathered his customary haul of energy drinks and Slim Jims and approached the counter.

“And give me fifty on pump four, sweetheart.”

Makayla rang up his gasoline purchase and started on the items on the counter. “Umm, Mr. Sanford, have you ever heard of Robin Caroline Jones?"

He took his toothpick out of his mouth. "If you mean that tall drink of water, Robin Jones, America's therapist? I sure have.”

Tall drink of water? That wasn't a good sign. Clearly, he’d already had a sip of the Robin Jones Kool-Aid.

"What do you know about her?"

"Well," he said, replacing his toothpick. “She's been on Oprah, all them morning news shows, stuff like that. If I'm not mistaken, she's got herself a place over in University Park. She's put out a lot of books, that I know. Seems I can't walk into an airport, without seeing that beautiful face. Not that I'm complaining…" he said, a lascivious grin on his face.

Makayla tried not to shudder.

"Yeah, but I mean, what’s she like? She's a local celebrity, like you," she added, hoping the comparison might flatter him enough to give her more information. "Have you ever met her? Or heard anything about her locally."

"I haven't met her personally. But yeah, I know a lot about her locally."

Finally, what Makayla was hoping for.

"Any time there's a need, she's one of the first to step up. I believe she was the one who counseled the singer that overdosed at that hotel downtown. You hear about that?”

Makayla shook her head no.

“That fire last year that took that family's home? I know she was the one to put them in a new one. And then there's the food and shelter center at that church, what's the name of it?" He squinted his eyes and tapped a Slim Jim on the counter. "I don't know, it's one of them big ol’ churches. New Life, New Hope, New Something… She got together with that girl who owns the soul food restaurant. They’re helping the church build a new addition to house the program. Just saw that on the news the other night. Now let me see," he said, scratching at his ear. "There was also—“

Makayla stopped him before he could go any further. That couldn't be all there was. Nobody was
that
good.

"No, no. I mean…” She leaned over the counter. "You know, like
tea
? Have you heard any tea on her?"

"Oh…” he said, raising his eyebrows. "I see where you're going." He shook his head. "I gotta say, she's one person I've never heard anything about. But I'll tell you what, if there is anything, you'll find it on Lipstick Alley."

"What's that?"

“Shadiest place this side of the Internet, that's what. If there is any dirt, it’ll be there. But what you want that kind of stuff for anyway?"

"I don’t,” Makayla lied. "I just go to the same church she does and I was wondering."

He shrugged and picked up the paper bag containing his purchases. "Okay, well like I said, that would be the place to look. But I doubt you'll find anything. From what I can see, she's the real deal."

While Makayla appreciated his thoughts on the matter, she would rather find out for herself.

M
akayla couldn't believe it
. Mr. Sanford was right.

First, about the shade.

Second, about there being none when it came to Robin.

The moment her replacement at the gas station showed up, Makayla booked it to the campus computer lab. Turned out to be a waste of time though. Nobody had one bad thing to say about Robin Jones. And from what Makayla could tell by looking at the site, that in itself, was quite an accomplishment.

Since she was already there, she decided to see what she could find out about Robin on regular, old, no-tea Google. Mr. Sanford wasn't kidding about her being famous. She had written five books, each of them hitting most, if not all, the bestseller lists. They’d been translated into fourteen languages and all the major book retailers were accepting preorders for the one she had coming out next.

A quick search on YouTube brought back a deluge of videos with Robin being the poster girl for a good Samaritan. The harder Makayla tried to find evidence to support her idea of Robin being a fake, the more evidence she turned up to contradict it. But it was one video, in particular, that finally ended her search.

It was a recording of Robin's acceptance speech, the year she was one of the people being celebrated at BET Honors. She stood at the microphone, in a shimmering gold dress, her long sable hair falling over one shoulder.

"It's not about the recognition. It's not about the awards. It's not about the money. People ask me all the time why I do what I do. What they don't understand is, I have no choice.

“I know firsthand what it's like to be hurting, to be desperate. To be in a place where you can’t put one foot in front of the other. And had it not been for people who cared, who were willing to get down there with me so they could lift me up, I don't think I would've made it.

“When you've known pain, when you've nearly been crushed by it, your heart won't allow you to stand by and do nothing when you see others in the same condition.

“Our girls, not only here in America, but across the world, are in crisis. They’re depending on us to stand up for them, stand up with them, and in some cases, carry them until they can stand on their own.

“As much as I appreciate this honor and the recognition of my work, there are people who deserve to stand here far more than I do. They are the unsung heroes of our everyday lives. The mothers. The grandmothers. The aunties. The friends.

“They're the ones in the trenches. The ones trying to give our daughters a sense of self-worth and well-being in the face of a society constantly telling them they’re not enough.

“There is no greater office than that of a parent. A nurturer. A caretaker. And there is no greater gift than that of a child. So I'd like to take this opportunity to extend my thanks to all those women who do the hard work on a daily basis. The ones who stayed and took responsibility, sometimes with zero help. The ones who continue to stay, every morning, and every night, even when it gets hard. Those women are the true heroes. Those women deserve all the admiration and honor we have to give."

The playback stopped and Makayla stared at the computer screen, trying to make sense of what she’d just heard and seen.

Hurt? What hurt was Robin referring to? And the part about not being able to put one foot in front of the other? Did any of that have to do with Makayla?

She’d always majored on the fact her mother left her. Beyond assuming it was for selfish reasons, she never thought about why. Did the events Robin referred to in her speech have anything to do with it?

Makayla walked home with a greater sense of confusion than when she’d left that morning. She hated it. For the past five years, she’d been nothing if not sure. Sure about her revenge and sure about her right to it. Now, she was anything but.

At least it was only Monday. That meant she had nearly a full week before she'd see Robin again. She’d need at least that long to figure out what she was going to do.

M
akayla paced the small
, rundown lobby of her apartment building, peeking out the glass double doors every few moments. It was a good thing there wasn’t a neighborhood watch group. After a few minutes of observing her strange behavior, somebody would’ve called the cops. She figured she looked like a sketchy participant in a drug deal, but at least she lived where people were used to sketchy and tended to ignore it.

Criminal activity would have been a lot less nerve-wracking than what she was about to do. She’d come to a decision: Today she’d tell Robin the truth.

Somewhere behind her, an apartment door slammed shut and Makayla jumped. Her heart pounded so hard, it made her slightly nauseous. She swallowed the excess saliva that’d filled her mouth and leaned against the wall of metal mailbox doors.

Get it together get it together get it together…

She’d forgotten how terrible it felt to be sick with apprehension. After she’d gone out on her own, she’d taught herself to react to the world around her like an ordinary person would. Though it took some time and practice, she got to where sudden movement didn’t give her an uncontrollable urge to run. Someone standing near her no longer made her as tense and uncomfortable as it once had. But all her training seemed to have left her.

And her body wasn’t the only thing reacting outside her control.

Her mind was buzzing with a dozen different thoughts. How should she tell her? Just blurt it out? Ease her way in?
When
should she tell her? Before church? After church?

Before church was a possibility. After church might be better. Maybe it’d give Makayla a chance to settle down.

Should she tell her in the car? At the church? At her apartment?

Definite “no” for the church. There were too many people. And if that was a “no,” Makayla’s apartment was an “absolutely not.” The last thing she wanted was for Robin to see where she lived. The outside of the building was bad enough, but the inside? Makayla was sure she’d die of humiliation before she ever got the words out.

And what, exactly, would those words be?

Makayla pushed away from the wall, looked through the glass doors again and returned to pacing.

She didn’t have a clue how she’d do it, she only knew she would. After spending every waking moment of the past week thinking about it, she’d decided to abandon her plans for payback. There just wasn’t anything about Robin that lined up with what she’d been told. If that were the case, maybe Makayla was wrong. Not only about her mother leaving her, but about her
wanting
to leave her. And if her mother had cared about her at one time, maybe she could again. The only way to know was to tell Robin who she was.

It seemed like the right decision the night before.

But now? In the light of day?

Since she’d gotten up that morning, she’d imagined at least a dozen different ways it could go wrong.

She imagined Robin’s bright eyes turning angry and her radiant smile becoming a hard line. She wondered if she’d yell at her or suddenly become distant and quiet. Just the thought of the warmth she’d felt the previous Sunday being replaced by cold indifference made Makayla’s mouth go dry.

She stopped walking and stood completely still, forcing herself to take slow, deep breaths, but moments later, she was pacing again. Just when she was sure she'd wear a groove in the lobby floor, Robin’s silver Jaguar passed the doors and pulled alongside the curb.

For a split second, Makayla considered giving into the overpowering urge she felt to hide.

She wasn't prepared for this.

And it wasn't just because she still didn’t know how to tell Robin who she was. What really kept her from walking through the lobby doors, what terrified her more than having to reveal the truth, was the one thing completely out of her control: Robin's reaction.

Makayla could choose the best words, pick the perfect moment, find the ideal place, but what difference would any of it make if Robin didn't
want
to know the truth?

For the past nineteen years, her mother knew exactly where she was and never sent one letter or made one phone call.

After talking to Mr. Sanford and listening to Robin's acceptance speech, Makayla tried to convince herself there was an explanation.

She told herself that if Robin was really the kindhearted person everyone believed her to be, maybe the reason she never came back was because she was too overcome by guilt and shame. Makayla could understand that. She’d done things she was too ashamed to even think about, much less, talk about. That she’d done those things out of necessity didn't make it any easier, either.

She wanted to believe that guilt and shame were the answer to the mystery of why she’d been abandoned. She
needed
to believe they were. But as she stared out at the waiting car, Makayla couldn’t shake the fear that it was something much simpler.

Robin just hadn't wanted her.

Makayla took a deep breath and put her hand on the door handle to open it. Ready or not, she was about to find out.

"
G
ood morning
!" Robin sang out the words, a stack of compact discs in hand. She glanced over at Makayla as she settled in her seat and stuffed her messenger bag between her legs and the car door.

“Aren’t you looking pretty today!”

Makayla felt like her mouth was glued shut. Her stomach was rolling and she was barely able to mumble a decipherable phrase back. She tried to say “Good morning” in response and failed. Her “Thank you” didn’t quite make it out either.

Just do it. Just do it. Do it now.

“We’ll get moving in just a minute…” Robin flipped through the discs she held. “Finding the proper music in preparation for Sunday morning service is essential.” She grinned and gave Makayla a wink. She turned her attention back to the discs, but continued talking.

“What’s with that face? Are you judging me?” Robin laughed. “I know, I know. Hardly anyone keeps these things anymore. Everything is digital now. What can I say? I love having the lyrics and reading the liner notes…”

Makayla couldn’t even focus on what Robin was saying. She tightened her hands into fists in an effort to stop the trembling. But there was nothing she could do about the rapid pounding of her heart.

Tell her. Tell her now. Just say it!

“Robin—“

Makayla turned to face her and as she did, she caught sight of Robin’s arm and open hand, raised above her head.

In a split second, Makayla was slammed back to age fourteen, slumped on the floor of her grandmother’s living room. Kim stood over her, her face twisted with rage. A loud ringing in Makayla’s ears drowned out all other sound and her vision blurred. Instinctively, she cowered and raised her arm to protect her head from the oncoming blow.

Then, as quickly as it’d started, the ringing stopped and her vision cleared. Within moments, her grandmother’s wiry carpet was replaced by the warm leather of the Jaguar’s seats. The citrus tang of Kim’s body spray gave way to the amber and musk mix of Robin’s perfume. Instead of Kim’s disgust, Makayla was met with the confusion, and then pity, of Robin’s eyes.

That’s when she understood what had happened.

Above her, the passenger side sun visor was halfway down. Attached to it was a CD holder, just like the one on the driver’s side. Robin had been reaching for more CDs.

Makayla wanted to disappear.

Since that wasn’t an option, she sat up and tried to act as if she weren’t shaking.

“Makayla?”

She fumbled with her seat belt. “I haven’t buckled up yet.”

Makayla wouldn’t look directly at Robin. Instead, she messed around with the belt for the few moments it took Robin to nod and place the discs in the center console.

Robin took the car out of park and pulled away from the curb. Makayla stared out the window.

What in the world had just happened?

No doubt, Robin thought she was a head case. And after the way she’d just acted, Makayla wasn’t sure she’d disagree. She’d never lost it like that. Ever. And over something that happened five years ago?

Inwardly, she cringed.

If there were ever a worse time to go off the deep end, she sure couldn’t imagine it. How was she supposed to tell Robin the truth now?

The silence between them as they rode to church was heavy with discomfort. Makayla tried to focus on the sounds that surrounded her to relieve it. The purr of the engine. The hum of the heater. The soft click of the turn signal. Nothing helped.

She kept her hand on the door, ready to make her escape the moment the car came to a stop in the church parking lot. When they finally arrived at New Life Tabernacle, Makayla was never so happy to see a place. There were still people arriving and others milling about outside the building. With any luck, she’d be out of the car and lost among the congregants before Robin knew she was gone.

As Robin rounded into a parking space, Makayla grabbed her bag and perched herself on the edge of her seat. Robin turned off the car and Makayla held her breath, waiting for the sound of the doors unlocking her way to freedom.

And she continued to wait.

And wait.

Finally, she turned to see what the hold up was. Robin still had her hands on the steering wheel as she gazed out the windshield.

Makayla chewed at her bottom lip and motioned at her window. “We’re gonna be late.”

Robin sat back in her seat and looked at her watch. “We’re all right. It’s still early.”

Makayla glanced out the window again. She knew the sense of panic she felt was out of proportion to the situation. But given the chance, logic wouldn’t have been enough to keep her from shattering the passenger side window and crawling out.

“Makayla…”

Had Makayla believed in a listening God, she would have begged Him to send a hurricane or flash flood or lightening bolt—anything capable of convincing Robin to forget whatever she was about to say and unlock the doors. To survive a natural disaster would have been preferable to talking about her minor freakout. Especially with Robin.

Makayla already knew what she was going to say, anyway. She’d tell her why she couldn’t give her a ride anymore. She’d probably even offer to help her find another. Makayla knew it was coming from the moment she fastened her seat belt. She’d just hoped to get away from Robin before actually having to hear it.

“I can talk to Sister Ealy after the service, okay?”

Robin stared at her. “Okay… About?”

Now Makayla stared. “A ride home.”

“I thought we’d already agreed I’d take you home?”

Makayla blinked. She still wanted to take her home? Even after she’d gone into fetal position without any warning or explanation?

“Really?”

Robin tilted her head and squinted. “Yes, really. But back to what I wanted to ask you… Do you already have plans after church?”

“Uh, no…”

“Good!” Robin patted her on the knee. “Then you’re coming with me.”

With that, Robin reached behind Makayla’s seat and grabbed her handbag. Then she unlocked the doors and nudged Makayla’s arm.

“Get a move on, little girl. It’s time for church!”