A Lova' Like No Otha' Read online

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  All Scripture references are from the King James Version of the Bible, copyright © 1985, Holman Bible Publishers.

  Copyright © 2003 Stephanie Perry Moore

  Reading Group Guide copyright 2003 by Warner Books, Inc., with Walk Worthy Press.

  Published by Warner Books, Inc., with Walk Worthy Press

  Hachette Book Group, 237 Park Avenue, New York, NY 10017

  Visit our Web sites at www.HachetteBookGroup.com

  The Warner Books name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  First eBook Edition: June 2003

  ISBN: 978-0-446-55378-0

  Contents

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  About the Author

  Reading Group Guide

  In memory of my dear uncle

  HECTOR ROUNDTREE

  (1957-2000).

  Though the storm of cancer kept raging in your life, you are now through it and resting in the arms of the Lord.

  It's my fondest hope that everyone who reads this book will understand that they too can get through any storm as long as Jesus Christ is captain of their ship.

  Thanks for saying you were proud of me. One day in heaven, I'll tell you how much that meant as we praise the Greatest Love of all!

  Acknowledgments

  Boy, did I long to feel hugs, kisses, and a whole lot more from my husband, but today that wasn't happening. He's out of town with his new job and though I'm certain he'd be happy to oblige me…duty calls at work. I should be able to understand, right? Wrong! I want to be loved. Mad, angry and bitter, I pouted most of the day. Till God whispered gently in my ear, “Can I love you today?” Of course the answer was yes. And when I let go my fleshly desires and clung to His Spirit, then and only then was I whole and satisfied.

  For anyone who longs to be filled with people, places and things, this novel is for you.

  For my parents, Dr. and Mrs. Franklin D. Perry Sr, I love the way you raised me. I am who I am because of it.

  For Denise Stinson, I love the way you believed in me. I have this chance to touch many lives through print because of that chance.

  For my assistants, Nakia Austin, Andrea Johnson and Nicole Duncan, I love your work ethics. I finished this novel because I could depend on you.

  For my interns, Jamie McNair and Shayla Turner, I love how much you admired my writing. My time with you gave me a chance to do more, care more, and give more to my readers.

  For Kathy Ide and Victoria Christopher Murray, I love how you helped me. Your determination to make this project the best it could be touched my heart.

  For my extended family, Rev. and Mrs. Dewey E. Perry Sr., Viola Roundtree, Ann Redding, Dennis, Leslie, little Franklin, the Bates family, the Perry family the Moore family the Roundtree family the Hayes family the Randall family the Williams family and the Manning family I love the support you give to my life. Your always being there helps me soar high.

  For Warner/Walk Worthy authors and staff, especially my editor, Frances Jalet-Miller, I love working with you. Being a part of such a great organization is a great joy.

  For my dear friend, Chandra “Jackie” Dixon, I love our relationship. Your laughs keep me going.

  For my former NFL wives crew, Laundria Perriman, Gloria London, Torian Colon, Robin Swilling, Kim Porcher, Kathleen Hanson, Laura Kasay Sherrie Rodenhauser, Linda Reich, Tracy Williams, Nicole Smith, Tracy Sanders, and so many others, I love the times we shared. Those moments are embedded in my heart forever.

  For my sorority sisters in Delta Sigma Theta, especially the Delta authors, I love our bond. The support you all have shown me is proof that we do support our own.

  For my daughters, Sydni and Sheldyn, I love being your mommy. Thanks for being real proud of me and telling all your friends that mom is a “Book Sign.”

  For my husband, Derrick, I love you. You fill my soul with heat and passion, and boy do I love that feeling.

  For the reader, I love that you gave this book a chance. I pray that your walk with the Lord is strengthened.

  For my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, I love how much You love me. Thanks for showing me why all I need is Your love.

  Chapter 1

  Imagine waking up on a morning that you've waited for your entire life and getting a twisting, sick feeling in your gut that the day would be less than perfect. Do you cry? Pray? Or dismiss the sinking thought and hope the eerie feeling will pass?

  I chose the latter. On the morning of my wedding, I woke up to the sound of thunder. The rain outside my hotel room was so thick, I couldn't see two feet outside my window.

  While in college, I had met my fiancé, Devyn Jackson, at a school picnic in Tri-City Park. A couple of years later, he proposed to me there, so it seemed perfect for us to get married in that enchanting location. But now my plans for an outdoor wedding were being washed away.

  Still, I was determined not to let this storm ruin the most important day of my life. I had prepared a backup plan, so things weren't totally destroyed. Besides, I didn't have time to fret.

  Picking up my emergency list, I made the first phone call.

  “Pastor Porcher, this is Zoe.”

  “Good morning.” His voice boomed through the receiver. “How are you on this blessed day?”

  My eyes roamed to the window, where the raindrops pelted the glass. “Not too good, Pastor. It looks like my wedding is a washout.”

  “Oh, no, child. Rain is just a cleansing from the Lord. This is still a beautiful day because this is a day that the Lord has made.”

  It was good to hear that the pastor thought the rain was God's cleansing. I was thinking that maybe the Lord was crying, kind of like the overwhelming sadness parents feel when they think their child is making a mistake. However, I had prayed too many times for God to be all up in my plans.

  “Well, I do have a backup plan.” I took a long, deep breath.

  After telling the pastor about the wedding changes, I actually felt a bit better. Pastor Porcher was so close to my family. Next I phoned the wedding planner. She agreed to handle calling the caterer, band and florist.

  I took a deep breath before I called my best friend and maid of honor, Tasha. Though she was my girl, our relationship was weird. I loved her but wasn't 100 percent sure she felt the same way.

  “Hey, girl,” I said in the cheeriest voice I could muster. “Just wanted to make sure you were up.”

  “You don't have to check on me.” Tasha yawned. I could almost see her stretching before she said, “Hey, it's raining out there.”

  “I know,” I moaned. “But I'm getting everything together for Plan B. I should be on my way to the church in ten minutes.”

  “Sorry you can't have your outdoor wedding. Girl, I just hope this ain't a sign that your marriage is doomed.” She chuckled. When I didn't say anything, she quickly added, “Just joking.”

  “Don't play with me, Tasha,” I said, my voice shaking. “This day is going to be stressful enough. Please don't be late.”

  “Don't worry. I'll be at the church before you get there, even if I have to run every red
light. It'll be cool; you'll see.”

  I hung up the telephone a moment before my mother, Marzella, walked in from her adjoining room. My fifty-year-old mother looked as if she hadn't slept. People often told her that she didn't look her age. She was always told she looked younger. She didn't look her age today either…. She looked ten years older. She seemed so tired and worn out.

  “Don't worry, honey. Your day will be perfect,” Mom said, “even with the rain.”

  Why did everyone have to focus on the rain? I wondered as she hugged me. My mother and I didn't talk much, but I never had any doubt that she loved me. She just never understood my needs. Also, after my father died, she'd done things that I still held against her and that kept a distance between us.

  When the phone rang, my mother smiled and waved. “See you at the church.”

  My hand motioned back to her. Then she took a few seconds to gather stuff. When I was finally alone, I answered the phone.

  “Hey, baby. It took you so long to answer. You ain't got no man up in there, do you?” Devyn said, slurring his words. “What time am I supposed to, umm, marry you?”

  I sighed. “Devyn, are you drunk?”

  I don't know why I asked the question. The night before, Devyn's groomsmen had given him a bachelor party. A couple of my girlfriends spied on them because their husbands were there. As I half listened to Devyn deny that he was drunk, I recalled the middle-of-the-night phone call I'd received.

  It was after three when the phone rang, and I answered on the first ring.

  “Girl, you're not going to believe what's going on at that party,” Breann screamed through the phone without saying hello.

  “Yeah, girl,” Jessica piped in. “It's wild. They have women.…”

  “I don't want to hear this,” I told them as I sat up in the bed. I turned on the light. “I don't need to know what my future husband is doing. After tomorrow, we'll be married and none of this will matter.”

  I hung up, turned off the light and spent the rest of the night resting in peace.

  But I found no peace in the morning. First the storm, now Devyn calling drunk. I shuddered at the thought of what really happened at his party.

  “Okay, baby. Maybe I had a few drinks,” Devyn finally admitted. “But I'm not drunk. Really,” he slurred.

  I rolled my eyes. “Devyn, you need to drink some coffee—extra black. Be at the church by two.”

  “I'll be fine, baby. I promise.”

  I looked at the clock. There were still three hours before the ceremony, but I wanted to get to the church as soon as I could. As I stood and began to gather my things, I thought about our courtship.

  Devyn and I met when we were students at the University of Miami. He was a senior and I was a junior. I first noticed him during my freshman year, but he was quite popular with the ladies and too involved with football to notice me. The light-skinned Shemar Moore look-alike had it going on.

  During my junior year, I became an official hostess for the football team. My main responsibility was to introduce high-school athletes—prospective candidates—to our school. Throughout the year, the hostesses participated in activities with the football players. Our first event that year was a welcome picnic in a park near the campus for the hostesses and the players.

  I remembered that Saturday, four years before, as if it were yesterday. Most of the people at the picnic knew each other. The majority of the girls had been hostesses the previous year. I didn't know many people, but that didn't matter. Devyn Jackson was my favorite football player, and he was the only one I wanted to meet. Since my earliest freshman day, I had followed his career. I knew all of his statistics. He was one of the top cornerbacks in the country. “Interception Man” was his nickname. Observing Superman, people would always say, “Up, up, and away!” Well, for Devyn, on game days, the crowd always screamed, “Take, take it away!”

  I figured the picnic would be the perfect opportunity to meet this awesome guy. So I mixed and mingled, chatting with all the ball players…except Devyn. After a few hours, he still had not made an appearance. Apparently he was going to ruin our chance meeting by not showing up.

  Frustration flooded through my body like water. To get my mind off my fantasy guy, I chilled. I started stuffing my face with ribs and potato salad.

  I can't believe this, I thought, unable to shake that fine black man I'd only seen in passing. This picnic is the only chance I have to meet him. Oh, well. I sighed. Nothing I can do about it.

  “Excuse me.” A deep, husky voice above me interrupted my conversation with myself. “Is somebody sittin' here?”

  “No,” I said, waving my hand in a carefree motion, not even looking up to see who was asking. I returned to gnawing on my barbecued ribs.

  “So, is the food that good?” the voice asked, this time from beside me.

  My honey brown five-foot five-inch body, with a cute layered hairdo, turned and said, “Yeah, real good.” I could feel the barbecue sauce dripping from the edge of my lips. I almost fainted. I was staring into the eyes of the man whom I wanted to meet.

  Devyn Jackson grinned, picked up a napkin and, with the corner, gently wiped the sauce from my mouth. From that moment on, that good-looking, light-skinned brotha' was all I wanted.

  I drove to the church as the rain flooded the streets. My windshield wipers thumped an insistent rhythm, barely keeping my view clear enough to navigate. Although most of my plans were ruined, I was still happy about the wedding. I was marrying the love of my life and looking forward to our future.

  But the moment I tried to imagine our wedding night, a brilliant flash of lightning crackled across the sky, followed by a violent thunderclap. My body shook. The fears I had been keeping so carefully tucked away seemed to surface all at once.

  “God,” I groaned. “I know Devyn isn't where he needs to be in his faith, but he'll grow,” I promised the Lord. “Devyn and I have been through many storms, and You've seen us through every one.” I thought about all the partying, drinking and fornicating we'd done. “I know I've disappointed You by compromising in certain areas with Devyn. I know I am not bringing virginal purity to my wedding; maybe my white dress is a lie. But even through my disobedience, You were always there when I called.”

  The tears from my eyes began to match the downpour that came from the heavens. It was more than thinking about the things I'd done with Devyn. I never thought he would ask me to be his bride. Most of the time when we discussed marriage, he said he wasn't ready.

  Overcome with emotion, I maneuvered my car alongside a curb, my tires interrupting a river of rainwater. I wanted to talk to the Lord freely, without distractions. I turned off the engine, humbly bowed my head and closed my eyes.

  “Thank you for changing Devyn's mind, Lord,” I continued. “And for putting so many things together for us. Through the planning for this wedding, even my mother and I have grown closer. I love You, Jesus! And although Devyn isn't a strong believer yet, I know that through my life influence he'll be one soon.”

  My body wouldn't move. It just stayed in that position, thinking and talking to the Lord. I wasn't sure how much time had passed before I finally said, “Amen.” I really wanted to spend more time with God, but I knew I had to get to the church.

  Lifting my head, I was surprised to see that the downpour had ended, leaving behind only sprinkles. By the time I arrived at the church ten minutes later, the sun was peeking from behind the thick clouds.

  “Maybe I can have the wedding outside after all,” I said as I jumped from the car. I opened the trunk and began unpacking the suitcases and boxes I'd brought with me. But just as I gathered the last load from the car, the rain started again.

  It wasn't going to bother me, though. Plan B was already in motion. I rushed to the dressing room, holding my enormous gown across my arms and carrying two plastic bags filled with my shoes, panty hose, hair spray, makeup and jewelry. Passing the sanctuary, I glanced through the doors and had to stop at the sight. The r
oom was decorated beautifully, with sky blue flowers and ribbons and lace everywhere! I wanted to stand and admire it, but I knew there wasn't time.

  When I got to the dressing room, all seven of my attendants were there, dressed in the baby blue bridesmaid gowns I'd selected. In their full-length satin dresses, my friends were all that.

  “You guys are the bomb,” I said as my girls took the packages from my arms. “Thanks for helping my mother decorate the church. I know it was last minute, but everything is beautiful.”

  “Zoe, where have you been?” Tasha asked, her hands on her hips. “You said you'd be here an hour ago.”

  I thought about the time I'd spent with God but remained silent.

  “The wedding is gonna start soon,” Tasha continued to rave. “You gotta hurry and get dressed, girl.”

  “I will. Everything will be fine. I needed a little time alone with me and God.” I paused. “I just want to say that I appreciate all of you.” I stopped again, letting my eyes roam to each of my friends. “Thank you for sharing in my special day.” I swallowed, clearing the lump in my throat. “Oh, help me put on my gown before I get all emotional!”

  My friends chuckled, though I could see in their eyes their strong emotions too. But we got to work. I slipped from my jeans and shirt, slid into the underwear that was designed for my dress and finally stepped into my gown.

  Within thirty minutes from when we started, I was completely dressed, staring at myself in the mirror.

  “Oh, you look beautiful,” Tasha gushed as my mother pushed me into the chair so that she could do my makeup. By the time I looked in the mirror again, I looked like a blushing bride, eagerly awaiting the man I loved.

  “It's time,” my mother said as she leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “I'll see you in the sanctuary.”

  I nodded because I didn't want to cry and watched as my bridesmaids lifted their white lily bouquets one by one and lined up outside the room for the processional.

  Finally when only Tasha was left, she handed me my larger bouquet. I stood and she adjusted my four-foot train. Then she looked at me with misty eyes. “This is it, girl,” she said, giving me a trembling smile.