Stepping Down (22 page)

The
thought of seeing Bria again after so many years seemed to split Sharla’s
personality right down the middle. On one hand, she wanted to take Amani and
run as far away from the female who’d been so busy partying that she put her
precious son in danger. On the other, Amani was so obviously obsessed with
meeting his birth family that denying him the opportunity could leave him hurt
and embittered to the point where Sharla would probably end up losing him
emotionally forever.

She’d
told Mark that she trusted both him and God. She trusted them both, alright,
especially since Mark had been teaching her things in God’s word that she’d
never even considered before their family devotions time. But still…Amani was
her baby. If he decided to make Bria his “real” mom, where would that leave
Sharla?

Mark
forged ahead, knocking on Bria’s hospital room door. “Hello?”

Sharla
held her breath as her husband entered first, then Amani, then herself,
relatively far behind. The room was filled with flowers and cards. Obviously, a
lot of people cared about Bria. Where had they all been when it was time to
adopt Amani? Were these new acquaintances? Co-workers who’d sent things to be
politically correct? Attorneys who wanted to represent her?

Despite
her pale skin, the darkness under her eyes, and scars crisscrossing her face,
Bria exuded an optimistic air. Someone had also recently braided her hair in
cornrows.

Stop
it, Sharla.
She knew
better. For Amani’s sake, it was a good thing that people loved his birth
mother. Maybe she’d gotten herself together and become a better person.

“Pastor?”
a woman’s weak voice creaked.

“Yes,
it’s me. And I brought someone to meet you.”

Startled
at the sound of the hospital bed’s movement, Sharla grabbed the cross charm on
her necklace. She zipped the charm across the silver links a few times, calming
herself with the familiar rhythm.

Mark
and Amani stepped to the side of Bria’s bed, within view. Sharla stayed several
feet away from the foot. Amani inched closer to Bria’s head.

She
reached for him, ran her hand down the length of his arm. “Hello, Amani.”

“Hi…um…”
Amani stuttered.

The
three laughed together. Watching them standing there—her husband and son
with that woman—was almost like watching her family with someone else.

“Just
call me Bria.” She laughed slightly. “I’m not much older than you.”

Amani
gave an awkward grin and waved. “Hi, Bria.”

Mark
stepped away, joining Sharla’s side. The quick squeeze around her shoulders
reminded her to breathe.

Now
that Amani and Bria were standing side by side, Sharla saw their close resemblance.
With all the publicity Mark got because of the church and the remnants of
Amani’s tell-tale port wine stain, it was only a matter of time before she
found him.

Even
from that distance, Sharla could see tears trickling down Bria’s face. Her insides
melted as she witnessed the tenderness of Bria’s gaze into Amani’s eyes, how
her fingertips gently outlined Amani’s strong features. For what it was worth,
Sharla could appreciate what it must have felt like to finally meet the son she’d
been thinking about all those years. There was no denying the love for Amani
branded on Bria’s heart. Sharla could do nothing except respect it.

Maybe
someday Sharla would meet the children she’d lost before they were ever born.
If it were possible, she hoped their meeting would be that sweet.

“It’s
so nice to see you again,” Bria whispered. “You’re so handsome.”

“Well,
you know, uh, what can I say?” Amani joked in classic J.J. Evans mode.

Bria
laughed herself into a coughing spell.

Mark
rushed back to her side. “Are you okay? You need some water?”

“No,”
she sputtered to a calm, “I’m fine. And he’s quite a character.”

“Definitely,”
Mark agreed. “His sense of humor sometimes gives my wife a headache.”

What?
Why on earth had Mark insisted on
dragging her into the conversation? She was just fine being a fly on the wall.

“Yes.
Sharla, I’m so glad you’re here.” Bria motioned for Sharla to come closer.

What
do I say? What if she hates me? Does she know about the money?
She fought the instinct to flee with
every step toward the other side of Bria’s bed. “Hi.”

“Hello.”

Grasping
Amani’s hand on the left and Sharla’s on the right, Bria breathed deeply. She
looked up at the son she’d given birth to. “I’m so happy right now. I can see
that your mom—” she squeezed Sharla’s hand,“—has done such a good
job of raising you. I’m thankful. There’s no way I could have done better.”

Sharla
squeezed back, letting the dam of her soul break. “Thank
you
. He’s a
great son.” There was no doubt in Sharla’s mind—Bria had become a better
person. Maybe the best person.

Mark
moseyed up to Sharla’s side. “I’d like to think I had a little something to do
with this, too.”

They
all shared a laugh, which loosened the last of the tightness in Sharla’s chest.
Until the room’s door swung open again.

“I
know you didn’t come back here! And got the nerve to bring your wife with her
triflin’ behind up in here!” Lisa raged.

The
fury in her face reignited Sharla’s fears. Mark grabbed his wife’s free hand.

“Mama,
stop it,” Bria intervened with a sharpness Sharla was surprised to hear coming
from such a frail-looking body.

“I
don’t think so.” Lisa marched herself right up to Sharla’s face.

Mark,
of course, made himself a shield. “Let’s not do anything crazy.”

The
alcohol on Lisa’s breath had already made its way around the room. “You got a
lot of nerve, after what you did.”

“All
she
did
was raise Amani. And raised him well, at that,” Bria said.

Lisa
stopped cold, looking past the adults to Amani. “Oh my gooooooodness! My
grandson!” Lisa flew around the hospital bed and swallowed Amani in a bear hug.
“I’ve been looking for you all your life!” She wagged him back and forth,
kissing his face with a ferocity that could only be explained by her apparent
inebriation.

“Hello,
ma’am,” Amani choked out, bewilderment written on his features.

“Mama,
that’s enough, you’re cutting off his circulation,” Bria ordered.

“I
ain’t got to let him go. This my grandson! They took him from us!” she spat
back at Bria.

“That’s
not true,” Bria argued.

“Oh,
yes they did. Paid a pretty penny, too,” Lisa hinted.

The
hair on Sharla’s arm stood on end. Was this woman about to air all their dirty
laundry in front of Amani?

“Wonder
who they paid it
to
?” Bria threatened.

Amani
managed to respectfully free himself from Lisa’s grip. He rushed to stand by
Sharla and Mark.

Lisa
drew in closer to Bria. “Honey, you can’t side with these people. We suin’
them, remember?”

“There
was never a
we
. Only
you
tryin’ to sue. But you won’t win. I’ll
testify against you.”

Lisa
gawked in disbelief. “But what about—”

“If
I’d raised Amani, he’d have been on the streets, under the jail, or probably
somewhere slingin’ with Boomie right now, wherever his crazy behind is. I hope
they catch him, too.”

“They
will,” Mark interjected.

Lisa
looked him up and down and snarled, “You betta hope they do ‘cause he don’t
appreciate you ridin’ around in the car with his girlfriend.”

“
Ex
-girlfriend,”
from Bria. “And we weren’t riding around, I told you. I was asking about
Amani.”

“Is
that what this was all about?” Amani asked. “Me?”

“Yeah,”
Mark said, slapping Amani on the back. “Everybody in this room cares about
you.”

All
except one
, Sharla
thought to herself.

“Cool.”

Once
Lisa reluctantly sat her happy behind down, Mark, Sharla, and Amani were able
to talk with Bria for a few more minutes before a nurse came in and said that
visitors needed to leave the room.

“Certainly,”
Mark answered for them all.

“Sorry,”
Bria apologized. “Gotta go to the restroom. In a weird way.”

“No
need to apologize,” Sharla offered. She couldn’t imagine what Bria was still
going through. Of all the things she’d hated most when she went to visit her
grandmother, before they put her in the nursing home, the worst was helping her
go to the restroom, a humiliating experience for everyone involved.

“We’re
going to let you rest,” Mark said. “We’ll be back to visit again.”

“Wonderful,”
Bria gushed. “I should be moved to rehab soon.”

“Great.
Wherever you are, we’ll find you,” Mark assured her.

“Good-bye,
Miss Bria,” Amani said, still standing by his parents.

Bria
smiled. “Such a respectful young man. Good-bye, Amani. It was good to meet
you.”
“Same here.”

“Come
give your grandmomma another hug,” Lisa demanded.

Though
Sharla felt tempted to tell him he didn’t have to, Amani complied.

“We
love you. You hear?” Lisa proclaimed.

“Yes,
ma’am. Thank you.”

Sarcasm
bubbled in Sharla’s throat.
You didn’t love him more than you loved my five
thousand dollars.
Still, she bit her tongue.

Amani
had to stop off at the restroom on the way out of the hospital. When he ducked
into the passageway, Sharla sank into Mark’s arms.

“That
was so hard,” she spoke into his shirt.

He
kissed her forehead and said with a country twang, “You done good, Mamasita.
Real good.”

As
she sopped up the last seconds in Mark’s arms before Amani emerged from the
restroom, Sharla reveled in this new, more attentive husband she’d encountered
after the accident. Though she didn’t think God had
caused
the wreck, it
was clear that He had
used
the wreck to bring them closer to each other.
Closer to Him.

For
quite some time, she’d been asking God to restore what they used to
have—that giddy, wild-and-crazy kind of love they’d had when they first
got married. Then she realized that the situation had deepened their love.
Matured it. Whatever God was doing in Mark, she’d definitely been the
beneficiary. She was even ready to be a part of it. Even if “being a part of
it” meant supporting him more at New Vision. She would do it so long as this new
Mark continued to take care of home first.

Oh,
she could definitely be a first lady under those circumstances.

Mark,
Sharla, and Amani sat on the first pew of New Vision. Thus far, the service had
been a refreshing display of God’s gifts and callings on the lives of the young
people at New Vision. Well, the ones who were left. A quick glance at the
audience yielded roughly half the number of people who’d attended before the
accident.

And
yet, miraculously, they were in no worse shape financially. With Kit gone and
many of the programs cut from the budget that Mark never really was keen about
supporting anyway, New Vision had managed to stay in the black, despite the
distraction.

Mark
and his remaining advisors could only credit God for balancing their books.
Even Marshall had remarked in their last meeting, “I’ve heard people testify
that they lost jobs, lost income, but somehow their bills never missed a beat.
Now I know what they mean. On paper, looking at the charts and graphs, the
trends, I don’t know how He did it. I just know He did.”

As
Jonathan took the pulpit for the first time to deliver the Sunday sermon, he
recounted to the church how faithful God had been to the congregation. He
thanked them all for their continued support. “But,” he noted, “it’s not me
you’re supporting. It’s not Pastor Carter you’re supporting. It’s the work of
the Lord, the work Jesus commanded us to continue—feed His sheep. Make
disciples of men. Love one another.
This
is what you support.”

Mark
nudged Sharla. “That’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout.”

Sharla
smiled and nudged him back.

He
leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Are you flirting with me in church?”

She
licked her lips slightly, rolled her eyes at him and returned her gaze to the
pulpit.

Yes.
She definitely was flirting with him, something she’d been doing a whole lot
more lately, thanks be unto God.

“Before
I begin, however, I would like to thank Pastor Carter for being an example of a
man of God before me. Um…I’m pretty young.”

The
congregation chuckled.

“But
I’ve had an opportunity to work with several men of the cloth. I can say beyond
the shadow of a doubt that Pastor Carter’s integrity, his convictions, and his
heart for Jesus has impacted me in a way that he may never know. Pastor, thank
you for your example. I’ve never been more honored to serve anyone,” Jonathan
commended. “He’s not just a preacher, he’s a pastor. A shepherd under the Great
Shepherd. We love you, Pastor Carter. I’d like to officially say welcome back.”

A
thunderous roar of applause rippled through the building, followed by a
standing ovation. Mark was flooded with emotion as he turned around to witness
the outpouring of love from the remaining members of New Vision. In that
moment, he realized that the people who’d left needed to leave. Maybe God had
another place for them to serve. Maybe they’d been there for the wrong reason
to begin with. Whatever the case,
those
people,
those
members
were the ones God still wanted him to serve. And he would, for the cause of
Christ.

He
felt Sharla’s squeeze and quickly beheld her expression. Love. Pure love shone in
her eyes. “This is soooo who you are. And I am sooo behind you.”

“Thanks,
Mamasita.”

On
the other side of Sharla, Amani leaned into Mark’s line of vision. He gave a
thumbs up and mouthed, “Cool.”