Dance Into Destiny (28 page)

“Yeah.” Shara sighed, looking dreamy-eyed over at Quinton.

“Oh, I think I'm gonna be sick.”

Shara swatted at Keeva. “Whatever! So did you let Anthony down easy? He's such a sweet guy.”

“He is nice. I told him the truth. I told him I was coming out of a bad relationship and needed to spend some time healing and becoming the best me that I could be by myself.”

“Sounds good. What'd he say?”

Keeva's lips curved into a smile. “That years of practicing martial arts had made him a very patient man and he had seen things in me that let him know I was worth the wait.”

Shara sat up in her seat. “Whoa!”

“What can I say, girl?” Keeva batted her eyelashes. “I still got it.”

They laughed.

They got out of the truck and Shara gave Keeva a hug. “You sure you're okay?”

Keeva looked her in the eye. “Yeah, honestly, I am.”

Shara smiled at her friend. She was amazed at God by how much Keeva had grown emotionally and spiritually since the first time they met.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just proud of you, that's all.”

“Whatever, Shara, don't get all corny and mushy on me.”

“Love you, girl.”

“Yeah, love you too.”

“H
ey, Shara. I'm cooking you dinner for our six-month anniversary. Can you be at my place at 6:00?”

“That's the big surprise today? How sweet of you to remember.” Shara had grown to love Quinton's early morning phone calls. He seemed to always know the exact minute she finished talking to God but hadn't quite gotten out of the bed to go for a run. She yawned a lazy Saturday morning yawn and then sat up in her bed, realizing what Quinton had said. “You mean I actually get to come to your apartment again?”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“You haven't invited me over in forever. Not that I mind you taking me out to all these different places. I thought I had been banished from your home.”

“You had. I couldn't trust you to behave yourself. I had to keep things safe.”

“Whatever, Quinton. Jeans and a T-shirt?”

“No, this is a special occasion. Wear something nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah—this is extra special.”

Shara hung up the phone and tried to figure out what to wear. She smiled remembering their first date. She decided to wear the brown dress she had worn that night. She'd have to pull on her winter coat over it, though.

 

Shara could hardly wait until six o'clock to see what Quinton had up his sleeve. After a light sprint up the steps, she knocked on the door of his apartment. She was pleasantly surprised to see candles on the table, already lit. Fred Hammond was playing on the stereo and the air was filled with wonderful smells of food cooking.

Quinton greeted her with a light kiss. “You look beautiful, baby. Dinner is already ready, as you demanded on your last visit here. I'll have everything out in a minute. Make yourself at home.” He went back into the kitchen.

Shara looked around. He had new art on the walls and some pictures of what she guessed to be his family. An older woman in a picture
had
to be his mother. He looked just like her. Shara giggled at a young picture of Quinton with a big Afro. She picked up another picture of his mother, him, and three other boys. Two of them were twins. They were caramel brown and didn't bear much resemblance to the others. The youngest one looked exactly like Quinton. Seeing all of them made Shara realize how little Quinton talked about his family. She didn't even know he had twin brothers.

She put the picture down when he came out with the food.

Quinton had cooked ribs, macaroni and cheese, sweet potatoes, greens and cornbread.

“Our first date. You remembered.”

“How could I forget the first time I got to really see you eat?” He shuddered. “The memory is hard to get rid of.”

She punched his arm, but smiled. “You said this was gonna be special, but I didn't expect all this. Where did you learn to cook soul food?”

“The master chef, Delores Mercer.” He nodded toward his mother's picture.

They ate, talked and flirted, as they had on their first date.

“Save some room for dessert,” Quinton warned as he watched Shara clean her plate.

“Now you tell me.”

Quinton disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a red velvet cake.

“Oh, now I'm really touched.”

As they started in on their cake and coffee, they chatted and flirted some more.

After a while, Quinton got a serious look on his face. “Shara, there's something I need to be honest with you about. I've sort of kept something from you for the past few months.”

Shara's heart sank into the pit of her stomach. Her mind wandered back to her conversation with her parents a few weeks ago. They had both been on the phone as she told them about how well things were going at the church. Her mother had said her usual, “That's nice dear.” Her father criticized everything and made it clear he didn't approve of their “new-fangled religion.”

She had dared to tell them about Quinton and how much she loved him and thought this was the man God sent for her to marry. Her mother sounded happy, but her father, of course, didn't have anything good to say. “You watch out there, baby girl. He sounds too good to be true and things that seem to be too good to be true usually are. Remember—Satan disguises himself as an angel of light.”

She was frustrated as always when she hung up the phone with him. Now she wondered if her father was right about another man in her life.

Had Quinton brought her here for this wonderful dinner to soften the blow of some bad news? Had he murdered someone in his gangbanging days in the projects? Did he have AIDS and that's why he always pulled away from kissing her? She looked down at the beautifully decorated cake and thought of all the kitchen appliances.

Was he gay?

Her heart beat so fast she got short of breath.

“Remember when I told you the owner of this building had decided to renovate the entire building? And then when you asked about the other buildings on the block being renovated and I said the same owner was fixing up those buildings too?”

Shara nodded.

Quinton took a deep breath. “Well, I sort of misled you. The mysterious owner is . . . me.”

Shara let out a huge breath, and then punched his arm. “You scared me, silly! I thought it was something bad.”

Quinton rubbed his arm. “What did you think I was going to say, that I had killed somebody or that I was gay or something?” He laughed.

Shara wondered if Keeva's vivid imagination was rubbing off on her. Then she realized what he had said. “You?
You
own the buildings?”

He nodded sheepishly. “Yeah. When I first started making money, me and a buddy did some real estate deals. We bought abandoned buildings in the projects, got low interest construction loans to fix them up, and then rented them out to Section 8 tenants to pay the mortgages, with a huge profit of course. I own a couple of buildings here and more than a few back in Chicago.”

He pointed to the picture of his family. “The twins manage them for me. They've become quite the businessmen and I've helped them buy and renovate a few of their own. I'm going to rent the apartments out to people in the neighborhood here. They'll have to go through some financial management and other classes. Hopefully, they'll be able to eventually buy them as condos. I don't want to just give handouts. I want to empower people to help themselves.”

“Why was that such a big secret?”

Quinton hung his head. “I wanted to make sure you loved me for me and not because I have money. When I asked you to marry me, I wanted to know you were saying yes because you love me.”

“Quinton, I can't believe you!”

“What?”

“You're not supposed to do it like that!”

“I'm sorry. I know it's insulting to play you for someone that shallow, but after my last relationship—”

“I'm not talking about that, silly! You can't just say ‘when I ask you to marry me.' You can't just mention it in conversation like that. You've ruined everything!”

“Woman, what are you talking about?”

Shara pouted. “A woman waits all her life for the perfect man to ask her to marry him. It's supposed to be wonderful and romantic when he proposes to her. You just ruined it! Mentioning it all casual like that. It's supposed to be a big surprise and the happiest moment of her life that she'll never forget.”

“You mean like this?” Quinton picked up the remote to the stereo and changed the CD to some soft jazz. He dropped down on one knee and pulled a little blue box out of his pocket.

Shara's mouth flew open and she covered her face with her hands.

“Don't tell me I don't know how to propose.”

He looked up at her. “For the past few weeks, I've been in the Bible, trying to write this perfect speech. I had a monologue prepared on the virtuous woman. Then I had this speech on Adam and Eve and how God took her out of him and she was his help-meet. Then I had this other speech about Christ and the church, the perfect example of a man and his bride. I practiced them over and over, but they all ended up sounding corny and stupid, or religious. I finally decided on this.

“When God made you, He put in you everything I needed in a wife. I believe He put in me everything you need in a husband. I feel like everything in our lives up to now was to bring us together in Him, so that we can fulfill the destiny that He ordained for us together. I don't think I can be all that I'm called to be without you by my side. Shara Anderson, I love you with all my heart and can't live another moment unless you promise to be my wife. Will you marry me?”

Shara was dumbstruck. Quinton reached up to wipe the tears falling from her eyes.

“Oh my goodness that was perfect.” She sighed. “Yes, Quinton Mercer, I'll marry you.”

They stood and embraced, then kissed—passionately. Quinton pulled away. “You kiss me like that again and we're going to have to get married tomorrow.”

Shara giggled. Quinton slipped the ring on her finger.

Oh my goodness, it's huge! Quinton, this is too much.”

“Don't you dare. I love you and want the best for you.”

“No, I mean literally. I don't know if my finger is strong enough to hold this thing.”

“I want the whole world to know how much I love you and that you're mine all mine.”

They kissed again.

They danced for a while to the music playing, looking into each other's eyes.

“You just made me the happiest man in the world. Wait 'til I tell my momma. She'll be so glad.”

Shara looked at the family picture. “That's her?”

Quinton picked up the frame. “Yeah, that's my heart. She has to go to second place now, though. These are the twins, Quintavious and Quintarious, and that's my baby boy, Quintell.” He laughed at the look on her face. “Yeah, I know. I'm glad I was born first, before she had to get creative with the names.”

“What was her obsession with the Q's?”

“My dad's name was Quinton. She was madly in love with him, so of course named me after him. He left her, though, and broke her heart. The twin's father wasn't around long enough to see them, so I guess she figured he didn't deserve a namesake. They got named after my dad too. Then, my dad came back into the picture for a while. He stayed around long enough to make Quintell, and then broke my mom's heart again. Mine too. My mom got saved not too long after he was born and closed up shop. Probably a good thing because I'm not sure what other ‘Q' names she could have come up with.”

He chuckled to himself and rubbed Quintell's face on the picture. “Looks exactly like me, doesn't he? I felt like he was a little present from my dad. He didn't stay around, but left a part of himself for me.”

Quinton pulled himself away from his thoughts and the picture. “I'm sorry. I'm ruining your perfect proposal going on and on about my dysfunctional family.”

“You're not ruining anything, silly. It's important that I know about your family so I'll know what I'm getting.”

“Oh, no. I better stop before you change your mind then.”

She kissed him softly. “That's not gonna happen.”

He kissed her back, longer this time. Shara felt a tingling in her stomach. She moaned softly. She was the one to pull away this time.

Quinton laughed. “Um hmm. Now you get to feel the torture you're always putting me through.”

The phone rang.

Quinton winced. “Sorry. I should have turned it off.” He turned the ringer off and came back over to her, but then his pager went off. He looked at it. “Sorry, baby. It's a 911 from Jamil. Let me go ahead and call him back otherwise he'll be showing up at the door.”

He dialed the number. “Jamilly-mill, man, you got the worst timing, dog.” His smile faded and fear replaced it. “Oh God, Jamil! All right, I'll be there in a minute.”

He hung up the phone and picked up his keys. “Shara, listen closely. I want you to call the police and tell them there's been a shooting at the church basketball court.”

He saw the panic in her eyes. “Calm down, baby. Nobody's been shot. That's the only way to get them there fast. Listen to me. I want you to stay here. Do
not
leave this apartment until you talk to me directly. I don't care what you hear. Promise me that, okay? Don't go out that door unless you talk to me and I tell you it's safe.”

She nodded, hardly able to breathe. “Quinton, be careful . . .”

He kissed her quickly as he walked out the door. “I'll be fine, baby. I'll be back before you know it.”

Shara ran to the phone and dialed 911 as he had instructed. After she talked to them, she started praying, pacing back and forth across the living room.

She heard gunshots, too many of them. They came from the direction of the church, right down the street. She screamed, “God, please don't let anything happen to Quinton.”

She looked at the ring on her finger.

God wouldn't do that to her, would He?