Goodness and Mercy Read online

  “Mother Franklin, will you please tell this child what scripture you were about to tell her before y’all got off on this other subject that don’t have nothing to do with what you were talking about originally,” Mother Robinson said. “Unless one of y’all got a man sleeping with you we don’t know about and you feel a need to confess,” Mother Robinson said, alternating questioning gazes between the Mothers, Fatima, and Gabrielle.

  “No, ma’am,” Gabrielle said. “Not me. I’m as single as they come. I was too busy working and trying to get ahead to even have someone in the past to really speak of.”

  “Well, we know you not exactly single no more, Miss Fatima,” Mother Smith said. “She done changed that Trent Howard so much he cain’t actually be called a geek anymore. His own mother barely recognizes him. The two of you need to be making your way to the altar soon. It’s about time we have another wedding around here. What are y’all now, thirty-six, thirty-seven? Too old to still be courting. It don’t take that long to decide if you want to be with somebody or not. Look at that tux he’s wearing. Y’all, just look at him. Most men come strutting up in here in a nice suit. Fatima got him so cleaned up, he steps in here in a full-blown tux. Looks real nice on him, too. Praise the Lord.”

  “Mother Smith, will you stay out these children’s business. I declare, all of y’all need to get a life!” Mother Robinson looked over at Mother Franklin. “And for the last time, Mother Franklin, either quote the scripture so these two can leave or tell them you can’t remember what you were gonna say so they can still go,” Mother Robinson said.

  “Oh, now I remember the scripture,” Mother Franklin said, adjusting her silver rhinestone hat on her head better, clamping down that lone pointing strand. “I was just having a time trying to recall the actual reference.” She folded her arms across her ample chest and pushed her back deeper into her chair. “Anyway, the scripture in Psalm thirty-seven says, ‘I have been young, and now am old; yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread.’”

  “Oh, that was perfect, Mother Franklin,” Fatima said. She sneaked a look back over at Trent again, who was now grinning and on the sly pointing a finger her way. “Well, we’re going to run now. It was good fellowshipping with you all.”

  “Bye-bye, baby,” Mother Franklin said. She tilted her cheek for her customary kiss from Fatima. Fatima hurried and hugged them, kissing them all on their cheeks.

  As Fatima and Gabrielle were walking away, Mother Franklin said, “How come she feel she have to say ‘you all’? How come she can’t say y’all like everybody else?”

  “It’s a city-folk, northern, proper thing,” Mother Robinson said. “I suppose folk who do that think the word y’all is too southern, too country for them. They don’t realize we just know how to conserve. We’re the ultimate conservatives. Y’all know our new president, President Obama—ooh, I just love saying that—President Obama is all for conserving energy, don’t you? Well, I’m going to keep doing my part: You all, y’all. Two words versus one. Y’all.” She smiled.

  “No,” said Mother Doris McFarland, “I don’t think it’s a city, a northern, or a proper thing as in a saddity way the way you’re implying. It’s just proper use of the English language, which frankly, I find quite refreshing in our young folk today.”

  “Course, you would say something like that,” Mother Franklin said, laughing. “Will someone please pass the tea?” Mother Franklin said with an English accent.

  “You need to stop. You know God doesn’t like ugly,” Mother McFarland said.

  “No, it’s God don’t like ugly,” Mother Franklin said, still chuckling. “Well, he don’t.”

  They laughed even harder, including Mother McFarland and Mother Henderson, who hadn’t said a word the whole time.

  Chapter 9

  The young lions do lack, and suffer hunger: but they that seek the Lord shall not want any good thing.

  —Psalm 34:10

  Trent Howard stood and hugged Fatima when she walked over to the table. “I thought I was going to have to come and rescue you,” Trent said.

  Fatima laughed. “You know them. They’re a fiery bunch, all right. But they did agree that you look quite debonair in your black and white tux, although they gave me way too much credit for the way you’re dressed. I thought you said you weren’t going to make it tonight?”

  “Change of plans. I didn’t want you to be alone on this night for this event. So, I changed my flight plans. Now I’ll be leaving first thing in the morning to go to Seattle.” Trent smiled. “I’m glad I did. You are beautiful.”

  The guy who had also stood up when Fatima and Gabrielle walked over cleared his throat.

  “Oh, forgive me,” Trent said, breaking his locked gaze with Fatima. “This is Zachary Wayne Morgan, known to many as Z. W. I met him when I was getting ready to come in. He doesn’t know anyone here, but he heard we were having this Inaugural Ball and wanted to come and take part. Zachary, this is Fatima Adams. And I’d just like to let you know up front that she’s already spoken for, even if you don’t see a ring on her finger. And I must apologize, but I don’t know this young lady, so I can’t properly introduce the two of you.”

  Fatima smiled and turned to Gabrielle. “Well, this is Gabrielle Mercedes. She’s new here at the church, just joined two weeks ago.” Fatima mentioned the part about her recently joining the church more for Trent’s benefit so he would know she was new to the church family. She didn’t want to tell too much of Gabrielle’s business here, mainly that she was also a new convert to Christ.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Fatima.” Zachary shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, Gabrielle.” He extended his hand out to her.

  When Zachary spoke, it was as though the bass in the room was lowered all the way to the floor. His voice was, without a doubt, genuine baritone—not a hint of tenor trying to mask as deep anywhere to be found. His voice was as smooth as caramel, which also happened to be the color of his skin. His slightly wavy hair was jet black. And when Gabrielle’s and Zachary’s hands met for that first ceremonial handshake, there was definitely a connection felt by both. It was like a positive and a negative charge coming together and—without any real effort—ending up generating a spark of electricity. Like walking across a carpeted room and touching a stainless steel refrigerator afterward. A surprise shock—not enough to hurt, but enough to let you know that something scientific has just taken place.

  For Gabrielle, the rest of the night was heavenly, absolutely heavenly. On the large-screen television, they replayed a tape of Barack and Michelle’s first dance at the Inaugural Neighborhood Ball broadcast on ABC to “At Last,” a song made famous by Etta James and sung by Beyoncé. Beyoncé almost lost it at the end as she watched the couple’s touching and romantic old-school slow dance. Everyone at the church ball who had someone to dance with joined in as though they were actually in the room dancing along with President and Mrs. Obama. Trent danced with Fatima. The second time the church’s deejay replayed the tape, Zachary asked Gabrielle to dance with him.

  But if you had questioned Gabrielle on what went on that night, she couldn’t have told you anything except that Zachary had the most gorgeous eyes surrounded by the thickest, longest eyelashes she’d ever seen on a man, that he made her laugh, that she loved talking to him, that he was a deep and thoughtful thinker, and that he was truly a magnificent slow dancer. Gabrielle loved to laugh, even if most of her life she’d found little to laugh about. But this night had been different. This night had belonged to the people.

  Gabrielle didn’t know whether any of this would lead to anything more. But so far, having accepted the Lord when she had, had brought her into the lives of people and places she’d never even known were available to her. On Monday, she’d served the less fortunate and in the process began cementing a real friendship with Fatima Adams, someone who could mentor her in her walk with the Lord. She was at a wonderful Inaugural Ball without ever having to leave the comforts of Birmingha
m, Alabama—home of the Civil Rights movement. What a glorious day this has been! The ancestors must be smiling and shouting with joy, she thought.

  And she’d met an unbelievable man who, although not a member of the church, had left stating he would definitely be back to visit during a Sunday worship service.

  Days later, Fatima talked to Gabrielle. “So, you and Zachary really seemed to hit it off. Did you happen to get his number?”

  “No,” Gabrielle said with an uptick in her voice.

  “No?”

  “No.”

  “Well, did he happen to get yours?”

  “Nope,” Gabrielle said, popping the p in the word nope.

  “So, he didn’t ask for your phone number, and you didn’t ask for his? Then may I ask you why not?” Fatima said.

  “Because I don’t think it’s appropriate for a woman to run after a man. If he wanted my number or if he wanted to keep in touch with me, he would have asked for my number or said something to that effect. But he didn’t do either. I met him, we had a wonderful time, and now it’s time to move on.”

  “Girl, please. That man was interested. Believe me, from where I was sitting, he was definitely interested. So, it sounds like we don’t know how to get in touch with him since Trent only met him when he came to the church that night. I’m pretty sure Trent didn’t get his number. You met him, and you didn’t ask for his number.”

  “What’s this ‘we’ business?” Gabrielle asked jokingly.

  “I know. I need to back off and mind my own business, don’t I? It’s just the two of you really looked like there was something going on over there. And truthfully, he wasn’t hard to look at, either. I’m just saying . . .”

  “Yeah, well, I have enough on my plate right now. I need to hurry up and find a job. This is not as easy as I thought it was going to be.”

  “What happened with your job?” Fatima asked.

  Gabrielle paused before answering. She was feeling close to Fatima, but she didn’t know her well enough to tell her everything about her life just yet. That was why she hadn’t asked Zachary what he did for a living. Why she hadn’t pried much into his personal business. She didn’t want him asking her similar questions in return.

  “I’m sorry,” Fatima said. “That was insensitive of me. I know people are getting laid off and losing jobs left and right during this recession they’re trying not to call a depression.”

  “It’s okay. You’re right. People are losing their jobs. But oddly enough, I didn’t get fired or laid off. I quit mine. But, it was time for a change.”

  “Well, hopefully President Obama and his administration will get things back on track soon. He hasn’t been in office but a week, and they’re trying to give him grief already. I understand change. So, until things turn around, what are you planning to do?”

  “Just keep pounding the pavement,” Gabrielle said. “I do have something that looks promising. I’m scheduled for a second interview, which is always a good sign. It’s not exactly what I was looking for when I went to this employment agency, but if I get it, if nothing else, it will hold me over until I can get something better later.”

  Gabrielle didn’t bother mentioning to Fatima that the only place she’d received a call back from was a maid service company. But it was good, honest, and decent work. And it would allow her to work a regular day shift—Monday through Friday—so she wouldn’t miss any church services.

  Gabrielle loved Sunday morning services as well as Wednesday night Bible study. As she’d looked for a job, she’d taken the downtime from having to work a full-time job to read through the Bible. She’d never known the Bible could be so fascinating. Admittedly, a lot of it didn’t make sense to her . . . why some things were important enough to be in the Bible (all of those who begat whom, for instance). But much of it was about real life: love, hardship, betrayal, disappointment, triumph, joy, hope, belief, being alone, and even times of feeling that God wasn’t there or He just didn’t care. She was hungry for the Word, hungry to know more and more about the Lord. She wanted to know what God required from and of those who’ve asked Him to be Lord of their lives.

  And she had learned how to pray. She’d learned that, early in her life, the way she’d originally come to God in prayer was actually the way He would have His children come to Him. So why didn’t He hear her cry? He had. She now understood that God had been there all along, even when she hadn’t known it.

  Fatima helped her so much, more than she would ever know. She and Fatima began having their own mini private Bible studies at each other’s house, over the phone, immediately after Bible study if they saw each other at Bible study. Gabrielle couldn’t get enough of the Word. She listened to a mountain of CDs of Pastor Landris’s sermons. And she quickly learned and understood who she was in Christ. She had taken one of the pages out of the New Convert/New Member’s Handbook and taped it to her bathroom mirror so she could see and speak who she was in Christ each time she looked at her reflection.

  “I am accepted (Ephesians 1:6), a child of God (John 1:12), a friend of Jesus (John 15:15), justified (Romans 5:1), have been bought with a price (1 Corinthians 6:20), blessed with all spiritual blessings (Ephesians 1:3), saved by grace (Ephesians 2:5) . . .”

  Chapter 10

  A good man leaveth an inheritance to his children’s children: and the wealth of the sinner is laid up for the just.

  —Proverbs 13:22

  Gabrielle started work at the maid service company in February, a little over a month after she’d given her life to Christ. Without a doubt, the work she was doing at this juncture (cleaning other people’s houses) as well as the money she was bringing home (minimum wage, a mere fraction of her previous take-home pay, and more like her previous tips), was a huge departure from her life before Christ. Still, she was comforted in knowing that what she was doing was right.

  Clarence had mailed her check just as he’d promised. He also included a little extra—a bonus, he called it on the note he’d attached, promising her again “in writing” that she would be welcomed back with open arms should she ever have a change of heart. However, Gabrielle was determined to press forward, to press toward the mark of a high calling, as she’d heard Pastor Landris say in more than a few of his taped sermons. She hadn’t joined a ministry yet. For now, it was enough for her to merely sit at the feet of the Lord, like Mary did in the Mary and Martha story, learning more and more about the Lord.

  And learn she did.

  But learning wasn’t helping her pay bills, which by March were already starting to stack up. She’d heard her share from others regarding the concept of confessing into existence those things one desired, but she still found herself unable to land even a callback for a better-paying job. Besides, nothing out there lately promised to pay anywhere close to what she had made before. She’d had three months of expense money in her savings account. But close to the end of April—even with her working—she found herself with more month left over than money.

  Her aunt Cee-Cee hadn’t paid back any of the two thousand dollars she owed, even though Gabrielle had called her at the end of March and told her she desperately needed at least some of her money now. After that, Aunt Cee-Cee avoided her calls entirely.

  By May thirtieth, her birthday, spiritually she’d grown immensely. But financially, she was in dire straits. Her house note payment was behind. And for the first time in her life, creditors were actually calling her house asking about their payments. Back in February, one of her two credit card companies had increased her minimum payment due. When she’d called to inquire as to why they’d changed it like that, the rep claimed the company was trying to help their customers during this awful economic downturn.

  “How does it help me when you more than double my minimum payment?” she’d asked.

  “It will help you pay it off quicker,” a woman with an Indian accent said.

  Gabrielle laughed. “The company believes it will help me by raising my minimum payment from two
hundred eighty-five dollars a month to seven hundred? They really think that will help me?”

  The woman had to laugh, too. “I know. But the company really is trying to help the customers.”

  “Well, if you ask me, it looks like they’re going about it the wrong way. You can tell them they need to stop helping me, then. With help like this, I’ll end up either bankrupt or in the poorhouse.”

  In truth, Gabrielle really didn’t understand why God would allow her to struggle so much when she was trying so hard to live right and do the right thing. When she’d finally spoken with a financial adviser, he told her she had no other option but to sell her house. And that she really needed to get rid of her car she truthfully could no longer afford to even keep up. “You need to either make more money or downsize what’s no longer an asset but a liability to your financial health and well-being,” he said.

  Saturday morning was her birthday. She got up early and went to the park for her morning jog. She began to fervently pray to God for direction and some kind of financial relief. That was the morning Clarence stopped by her house to see her. She let him in.

  “How are you doing?” Clarence asked, as he held a medium brown bag in his hand.

  “Blessed in the Lord and highly favored,” Gabrielle said.

  “I knew it,” Clarence said. “I knew you were going to start talking like them before too long.”

  Gabrielle grinned. “But I am blessed, and I am highly favored,” Gabrielle said. “So, what are you doing out and about so early in the morning?”

  He raised up the bag. “I brought us breakfast. Which way to your kitchen?” he asked, following her as she led him there. “You of all people know my work doesn’t end until the early morning light. You’ve been on my mind a lot lately. I decided to come over after work. I started to call you, but I wanted to look into your eyes for myself. That way I can determine if you’re really doing okay, or if you’re just trying to prop up things.” He sat the bag down on the glass-top table. “I know how it can be. You make a decision, think it’s the right one at the time, only to discover that things might require a minor adjustment, a little tweaking here and there.” He nodded as he scanned her from her head to toe. “You’re looking good still,” he said with a smile.