In the Light of Love Read online

  Talisa giggled. “I hope so. They’re auctioning single men. My father’s hoping I’ll get lucky and find a husband.”

  The minister laughed with her. “I should send my daughter. She could use a little help in that direction herself. Well, you enjoy and we’ll finalize the details of your trip on Monday.”

  “Thank you, Reverend Warren. Thank you very much.”

  Talisa was grinning widely as she exited the office and returned to the small conference room of the United Methodist campus ministry at Georgia Tech. Just as she’d expected, Stevie and Johanna were waiting for her, feigning interest in the paperwork scattered across the surface of the table.

  Stevie rose excitedly, rushing to close the door from prying ears as Talisa took a seat at the table. “What’s going on?” the woman asked anxiously, dropping back into her own seat.

  “Reverend Warren asked me to head the second mission group,” Talisa answered, her excitement spilling into the small space.

  Stevie clapped her hands as Johanna reached out to hug her. “That’s great,” her friend said, the other echoing the sentiments. “You’ll do just fine. I am so happy for you.”

  Talisa placed a hand against Johanna’s pregnant belly, patting the haven of new life ever so slightly. “Won’t you miss going?” she asked, studying the woman’s face.

  “Not at all,” Johanna said emphatically, her blond ponytail swaying from side to side. “It’s time I took a break. I’ve done a mission trip every year since I was a student here. It’ll be a pleasure not to have to worry about inoculations, visas, and all the other stuff you’re going to have to bother with. Plus, I love our kids dearly, but they will work your nerves once you get them out of the country.”

  Talisa laughed. “Now you tell me!”

  Stevie shook her head. “I wish we were going together, but you’ll do fine. You have David, Paul and Clarissa going with you. They have over ten years of experience between them. They’ll be a big help.”

  “But you won’t need much help, Talisa,” Johanna said. “You’ve got great instincts. All you will need to remember is that you are not there to babysit them. They’re adults. All they need is for you to occasionally remind them that they represent the church and their school, and that they need to behave like it. Once you get them settled and organized, they’re on their own and so are you.”

  Stevie waved her head in agreement. “When you finish this trip you need to walk away knowing that you fulfilled a calling in your heart, that you served well, and that everyone can be proud of whatever it is you accomplished. You also need to relax, enjoy and have a great time.”

  Talisa grinned as the two women chattered excitedly around her. She had been working at the student ministry for almost three years, her duties ranging from being a housemother to a homesick freshman, guidance counselor for an anxious senior, maintenance woman, building manager, and everything else in between. The Wesley Foundation, home of the United Methodist Church’s student ministry, had become her second home and she welcomed the opportunities it afforded her to be a part of the campus community.

  When she’d initially applied for the position, Reverend Warren had explained their jobs simply. He had explained that they were there to help the students grow in their love for and their commitment to God. At the time, neither knew that the foundation would do that exact thing for Talisa. But from the moment she first stepped into the building and the staff had embraced and welcomed her, Talisa had marveled at how powerful, how healing, how sustaining an environment the place would be for her. She was excited at the prospect of sharing that through their outreach ministry. She was also excited about the opportunity to visit the motherland she only knew through outdated history books, an occasional world news item and the travel brochures she’d periodically picked up at the local travel agency.

  Her grin widened as Stevie changed the subject. “How much do you plan to bid tomorrow?” the woman asked, turning the pages of the auction catalog she’d swiped off Talisa’s desk.

  Talisa laughed again, the sound vibrating between them. “I have no intentions of bidding at all. I’m only going because my friends insist that this is where I need to be for my birthday. That, and my father is hoping someone will take pity on me, marry me, and move me out of his house. I just plan on making a nice donation for the cause, enjoying the hors d’oeuvres, and then I’m going home to a good book and a hot bath.”

  Johanna stared over Stevie’s shoulder as the two scanned the photographs and read the bios of the auction’s participants. “I like this one,” she said, pointing to the black-and-white photo of a senior pilot for Southwest Airlines. The man’s wide smile filled the image, accentuating his thick eyebrows, dimpled cheeks, and the graying edges of his hairline.

  “They all work for me,” Stevie said with a deep laugh. “I think he’d be cute for you, Talisa,” she finished, pointing to the image of a pro basketball player for the Atlanta Hawks. The young man staring up from the page was a richly toned, blue-black specimen, in a pin-striped suit and wide-brimmed Panama hat, and matching, two-toned, black-and-white shoes. A wide grin filled his very round face and Talisa could almost imagine the number of hearts he’d broken in his lifetime.

  She rolled her eyes. “You two are starting to sound like my father. If he tells me one more time how much I need a good man, I’ll absolutely bust.”

  Johanna rubbed her palm against her bulging abdomen. “Personally, a man is the last thing I need. My poor husband is not having any fun with me right now. Every time I look at my swollen ankles, get heartburn or feel a twitch of pain, I take it out on him.” She sighed, looking toward Stevie. “I thought you said this pregnancy thing was going to be a piece of cake?”

  The older woman laughed. “It was…for me.”

  “I should never have listened to you. What would you remember? It’s been what, thirty-four years since you gave birth to your daughter?”

  “About that, give or take a year,” Stevie said.

  Johanna shook her head. “That’s what I get.”

  Talisa laughed. “You know you’re enjoying every minute of this pregnancy and I’m sure you haven’t been that hard on Allan at all. That husband of yours is golden the way he fawns all over you.”

  Johanna smiled. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Listen to your father. Go find yourself a really good man. Just don’t pay too much for him. A bargain is always better than full price any day of the week.”

  Chapter 3

  The morning sun peeked through the blinds of her bedroom, the rising warmth summoning Talisa awake. As she stretched the length of her body against the padded mattress top, she suddenly remembered that her work week had ended well and that she actually had something to do to get the weekend off to a promising start. She smiled.

  Although she professed to not be interested in the evening’s auction, she was overly excited at the prospect of being in a room with so many eligible, employed, socially promising men. It was an ideal way to celebrate her twenty-fifth birthday—and her best friends had promised her an exceptional birthday party. She stretched again, yawning as she shifted from sleep mode to wide-eyed and awake.

  She had already lifted herself from beneath the covers and was returning from the adjoining bathroom when her mother and father knocked on the bedroom door.

  “Happy birthday to you…happy birthday to you…happy birthday, Pumpkin Pie…happy birthday to you!” they both sang, one more out of tune than the other.

  “Happy birthday, pumpkin,” Herman London said, leaning to kiss his only child on the cheek.

  Her mother reached for the covers on the unmade bed, instinctively smoothing out the rumpled sheets and blankets.

  “Stop, Mom! I can make up my own bed,” Talisa said, reaching to pull the covers from her mother’s grasp. She rolled her eyes in annoyance.

  Mary flipped her hand at her daughter. “I know what you can do. I was just helping out.” She smiled widely at the young woman, nodding approval in her dau
ghter’s direction.

  Herman shook his head from side to side. “So, what do you have planned for the day, baby girl? Anything special?”

  Talisa grinned. “Going out with the girls tonight, Daddy.”

  The man nodded. “Do you need some money?” he asked, reaching for the wallet in his rear pocket.

  Talisa shook her head. “No, sir. I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

  “Give her the present, Herman,” Mary said, clapping her hands together as she hopped in place. “What are you waiting for, Daddy?”

  The man winked, reaching for an envelope in the pocket of his work shirt. “Child ain’t even dressed yet and you rushing folks.” He passed the envelope to Talisa who looked at them both curiously.

  “What’s this?” she said, pulling at the sealed container.

  Her parents stood beside her, beaming in her direction.

  “Your daddy and I thought this was the best present for you. Hurry up and open it now!” her mother said excitedly.

  Opening the envelope, Talisa’s eyes widened as she pulled a set of silver keys and the title to a new car from inside. Her mother had tied a red ribbon around the document that said the vehicle belonged exclusively to her. Talisa stared at the set of keys, her mouth ajar as the engraved Ford logo and inscription stared up at her. “You bought me a car?” she asked hesitantly, looking from one to the other.

  Mary’s excitement burst out in glee as she pulled her daughter into a warm hug. “Daddy picked out a pretty new car for you. It’s blue with gray seats. It’s in the driveway. Go look,” the woman said in one big breath, gasping for air as she finished.

  Her father nodded. “Happy birthday, pumpkin!” he exclaimed for a second time.

  Talisa stood shocked, her limbs tied to the floor. “I don’t believe this. Daddy, why would you buy me a car? You and Mommy can’t afford this!”

  Her mother bristled. “Don’t tell us what we can afford. Your daddy and I know what we can afford and what we can’t.” The woman’s tone was suddenly hostile.

  Her father defused the moment quickly, resting a large hand against his wife’s forearm. “Your mama and I been saving up for this since you turned eighteen, Talisa. We’ve been putting a little away every month. I thought we’d have been able to do it when you graduated college, but that’s when I lost my job at the plant. After I started driving buses for the city, we just kept on saving. We wanted you to have something special and since turning twenty-five is a special time, today was as good as any other.”

  Talisa’s hair swayed from side to side as she shook her head. She reached to hug her father and then her mother. “I love you both so much.”

  “Well, don’t just stand there,” her mother admonished, the smile returning to her face. “Get dressed. I gots to go to the store and I want to ride in that nice new car.”

  Talisa pulled her new car into the parking lot of the Crowne Plaza Atlanta hotel, Mya Taft, one of her closest friends, riding shotgun beside her. The two women were laughing heartily as they exited the vehicle, one just as excited as the other.

  “I plan to bid on every tall, Mandingo brother with big feet and an even bigger bankbook,” Mya said as they made their way toward the front of the building.

  Talisa laughed. “Why does he have to be big?”

  “Small men make me nervous. I want a man who eats well, eats often, and isn’t afraid to give me a taste when the moment moves me. And you know if his feet are large, then the rest of him won’t be a disappointment.”

  “You are a sick woman,” Talisa said with a chuckle as the two women gave each other a high five.

  “Where’d you get that dress?” Mya asked as Talisa removed her jacket, admiring the turquoise, floral-printed, silk sundress her friend wore. “’Cause that dress is wearing you, girl!” she exclaimed.

  “The new Bloomingdale’s in Lenox Square.”

  “I never find anything at that store. You make me sick.”

  “Like you don’t look good in that size-two slip you have on.”

  Mya laughed, doing a fashion model strut and spin in the middle of the hotel lobby, flipping the jacket she’d just removed over her shoulder. “Okay. I do look good, don’t I?”

  Talisa clasped her arm through the other woman’s. “We both look good. Now let’s just hope these men tonight are worth all the trouble.”

  As the duo entered the ballroom, stopping first to register at the reception table, they were instantly in awe of the elaborate decorations. Playing with a New Orleans masked ball theme, the decorating committee had outdone themselves. The décor was exotic and sensual. The tables were dressed in white linens with gold and black accented table runners. A large runway had been built room center, the massive structure skirted in a coordinating harlequin print, and miniature white lights sparkled against the high ceilings. With registration, each attendee was given an updated auction catalog and an exquisite Venetian mask on a scrolled wooden handle. An assigned number adorned the back of the mask to be used as the bidding paddle. The gathering of women, varying in shades and sizes, was duly impressed.

  Talisa and Mya rushed to their table, greeting the rest of their party who sat waiting for them.

  “What took you two so long?” Benita Rivers asked, rising from her seat to give them each a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. Her café au lait complexion was flushed with color that highlighted her reddish-brown afro.

  “We were beginning to think your old butt wasn’t coming,” Leila Brimmer added, gesturing for them to take a seat.

  “Who are you calling old?” Talisa said as she settled herself comfortably against the cushioned seat.

  “I’m calling you old,” her best friend responded teasingly. “Happy birthday, woman!” Leila twirled one of her ebony curls around her index finger. Laugh lines pulled at her thin face, her mahogany complexion shining with glee.

  Talisa grinned. “Thank you. And I’m not old. I’m just aging nicely. Like fine wine.”

  “Like she can talk,” Benita interjected. “Who turned twenty-five last month?”

  “I’m still twenty-one and I’ll deny anything else,” the other woman laughed.

  Benita rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. Just like you’re still a virgin.”

  The women laughed again. Talisa’s gaze scanned the perimeter of the room, noting the landscape of primped and perfumed women, each dressed to the nines, hair and nails meticulous. “What did we miss?” she asked, taking a mental note of the elderly piano player who sat in the left corner, his fingers skating easily over the piano keys.

  Leila shook her head. “Not much. I picked up our tickets for the champagne reception in the VIP suite. We’ll get to mingle with the bachelors before this thing gets started. Spend some quality one-on-one time as we decide which ones will be our future husbands.”

  “We should be so lucky,” Mya responded as she peered into a compact mirror pulled from her purse.

  Talisa shook her head. “How’d you swing tickets for the reception? I heard it was by invitation only.”

  Leila shrugged. “The only invitation we needed was the required five-hundred-dollar donation for the tickets.”

  Talisa spun around in her seat, her mouth falling open in shock. “Five hundred dollars? You spent five hundred dollars for reception tickets?”

  Leila laughed. “No. I spent two thousand dollars for reception tickets. We needed four of them,” she said, pointing to each of them in turn. “I told you we were going to celebrate your birthday in high style.”

  “You’ve lost your mind,” Talisa exclaimed. “I can’t believe you!”

  Her friend laughed again. “Well, let’s head on up so you can believe me.”

  Mya patted at her lipstick. “I hope you don’t expect me to pay you back, Leila. You know I’m broke. I don’t have a high-powered lawyer’s job like you do.”

  Leila rolled her eyes. “It’s a gift, Mya. A gift for all of us. Just make it worth my investment and find yourself a man. Please, do us all t
hat favor.”

  Talisa laughed. “I declare! For five hundred dollars, they should give us a private reception, an engagement ring, and the two point three kids with a dog.”

  “Please, don’t act poor when we get upstairs, Talisa,” Mya admonished. “Just pretend we at least know what money is.”

  “You mean just pretend we have money we don’t,” Talisa said, her head waving from side to side.

  “It’s all tax-deductible and I need as many deductions as I can get,” Leila said. “Besides, we’re here to support the cause, remember?”

  “I’m here to catch me a rich husband.” Mya laughed. “You can be here for any reason you want.”

  Crossing through the lobby, the four women made their way to the elevators on the south side of the building, pushing the button to the upper-level suite reserved for the occasion. Excitement filled the space around them as they traveled the quick distance from one floor to another. Talisa smiled warmly at the three women who stood beside her.

  She and Leila had been best friends since kindergarten, when Talisa broke the red crayon in her Crayola box and Leila had offered her own in replacement. They’d been inseparable after that, even following each other to Georgia Tech when they graduated high school. Mya had joined the duo when they’d been in the fourth grade. They’d met her in church two weeks after her parents and twin brothers had moved from Baltimore to Atlanta. Mya had captivated them with her vocal cords, bellowing big hymns out of her tiny body that had made them all stop and take notice. She’d also been the more daring of the trio, enticing them to get into more trouble than any one of them cared to remember. Benita had been Mya’s college roommate, evening out their threesome as they’d moved into adulthood.

  Leila had graduated college a year early, moving right on to Harvard Law School for her law degree. It had been the first time she and Talisa had been apart, the telephone and e-mail the lifeline between them. Talisa had marveled at her friend’s dedication and commitment to her career, still having no idea what she wanted to do with her own life, despite her degree in journalism.