Love Like Hallelujah (18 page)

Millicent stretched, yawned, and rolled over. After two weeks straight of ten-hour days and Saturdays at the office, she was more than ready for a day to sleep in. It was well-deserved rest. Millicent’s marketing campaign and company branding strategy had been accepted by the partners of the firm. All of the subcontractors for its implementation had been selected. On top of that, organizing the Open Arms commitment ceremony was going smoothly. Leah and the other women had been tireless in their help.

You’ll need a vacation after all this work
. Jack’s words floated up into her memory. She’d convinced herself that the trip to Mexico was just that, a well-deserved vacation. That it was the same resort Hope and Cy planned to visit, and at the same time, was purely coincidental.

But what are you going to do in Mexico? What is it going to prove?
Millicent had pondered these questions ever since she’d booked the trip. She still didn’t know. Maybe she’d purchase a thong bikini and give Cy an eyeful of what he’d turned down. Maybe she could somehow get Cy alone, drug Hope’s drink, drug Cy, too…and have her way with him.
Is there a way I can get Hope out of his life?
Millicent didn’t think so. She might be crazy, but she wasn’t stupid. She wasn’t doing jail time for anyone. And she wasn’t going to make a fool of herself again. But maybe she could bring a little storm into the Taylor’s marital paradise, cause Hope to hurt the way she had. Whatever she did, she’d have to do it quick. Millicent had only booked a weekend at Rosewood. Whatever was going to happen, it would have to happen like Jesus’s resurrection, within three days.

Millicent’s stomach growled, reminding her she’d been too tired to eat last night. She rolled out of bed and after morning ablutions, walked into the kitchen. Not much there. Cooking was not Millicent’s forte, and she’d been so busy, even grocery shopping had been ignored. Scrounging around cabinets and the refrigerator, she came up with some granola bars, a couple spotty apples, and popcorn. It would have to do. And she’d order in dinner. Millicent planned to spend the day at home.

Ten minutes later, she carried a plate into her office area and turned on the computer. She hadn’t checked personal e-mails all week, and wanted to shop on-line for the girls’ commitment rings. Amid the scores of spam mail was a message from Alison. She replied that no, she hadn’t dropped off the face of the earth and would call her later. Millicent had never had many female friends and appreciated Alison, and now Leah, in her life.

She was deleting the spam mail when a heading caught her eye: Christian Connections, Your On-line Dating Experience.
Hmm
. Alison had once suggested Millicent try an on-line dating service. Millicent had balked, believing it looked desperate to advertise oneself on-line. But crashing a church service in a wedding dress had been desperate, too. Millicent clicked on the link. She scrolled down their marketing information about finding the perfect mate with the same values, morals, and faith. These would be total strangers, with no connection to her past.
It may be the perfect solution
. She continued browsing the site, looking at the sample page of potential matches and reading their summaries.
These men are probably total losers
. But there was a free trial membership. What could it hurt?

One would think a marketing expert would have no problem highlighting her own attributes, but Millicent struggled. Who was she? What was she looking for? The questionnaire stirred up questions she had never asked herself. For the past year, all she’d wanted was Cy. And what was it about him, besides everything, that had made him so attractive to her? After a long moment, she typed a succinct paragraph in the “What I’m Looking For” box:

Millicent read it once, again and pushed “finish.” She’d have to take her chances with who would reply, because she refused to post her picture for the world to see. Nor would she use her first name, posting under her middle name, Rose, instead. One never knew who visited these sites, and she didn’t want anyone knowing she was looking for love on-line. If it was meant to be, the person would be willing to respond to her post without a picture. After all, who wouldn’t want to meet someone who was intelligent, adventurous, sensual, beautiful, and financially secure, as she’d accurately described herself in the ad?

Two hours later, Millicent turned off the computer, satisfied with the commitment rings and gold-gilded frames she’d found for the girls’ ceremony. Rarely one with time on her hands, she contemplated what to do with the rest of her day. After a moment, she headed for the shower. She’d wash and condition her hair, give herself a facial, and maybe find a good movie on television. Or perhaps she’d get back on the computer. And find that someone had answered her post, someone who, like her, was looking for love.

King, Tai, Derrick, and Vivian sat inside the Azul Restaurant at the beautiful Mandarin Oriental hotel in Miami. It was a beautiful August evening. The Total Truth Association’s annual executive meeting had just ended. It had been intense, but successful. The more involved the four were with Total Truth, a group of churches that had broken away from the National Baptist Convention, the more excited they were to be a part of it. They liked the unorthodox approaches to biblical teaching, as well as its commitment to business and urban rebuilding. The focus for the upcoming year was going to be on recapturing the attention of today’s youth, a task which all thought daunting, but not impossible.

“It’s a different world they’re coming up in,” Tai said. “It’s getting harder and harder to keep a rein on Princess, as much as we’re trying.”

“They’re just so defiant,” Vivian said. “All the anger and feelings of self-righteousness, as if the world owes them something. Where does that come from?”

“It comes from no home training,” King interjected smoothly, between bites of prime rib eye. “No whippin’s, no responsibilities.”

“No fathers in the home,” Derrick added. “Most of these parents today need to have their behinds whipped. They’re too busy trying to be their kid’s friend instead of their kid’s mother or father.”

“I just hope,” Tai began. “Never mind…”

“What is it, baby?” King asked.

“I’m just hoping we can get Princess through high school and college without having to deal with any
issues
.”

“You mean without her getting pregnant,” Vivian stated frankly.

Tai nodded. King squirmed. Talk about babies, so close to his near-miss with Tootie, made him uncomfortable. Not to mention thinking of his daughter getting pregnant, and more specifically the activity she’d engage in to make that happen. Talk of babies, in general, was not a good idea.

“Speaking of children,” Derrick said as if reading his mind, “I know you two are happy that whole Tootie mess is behind you.”

“God knows I am,” King said. “Tai and I were prepared to deal with it, but thank God we don’t have to.” He quickly changed the subject. “You think Shaq’s going to stay with the Heat?”

While the men talked, Tai thought. Whether they’d been prepared or not was a matter of opinion. Tai had never fully come to grips with the thought of another member joining her family, no matter the circumstances. She knew a child would bind Tootie and King forever, in one way or another. And she hadn’t been prepared for that at all. Their last meeting was proof that no matter how much growing each of them had done, Tootie and Tai would never be friends. There had been too much bad blood for too long. And Tai was still not comfortable with how things ended, cut and dried, with no explanation for all the secrecy. The way Tootie had acted when she’d asked to see a picture…She still couldn’t get that out of her mind, still couldn’t totally close the door on the issue.

King had closed the door, slammed it shut, and locked it. When they’d gone home that night, and she’d brought up Tootie’s behavior, King had been blunt. “Let it go, Tai. You know how Tootie can be. We have no right to see a child that doesn’t belong to us, and we don’t need to see Tootie, ever again. I say good riddance. Let it go.”

He’d refused to talk about the subject again, and after a couple of days, she tried to take his advice and release it. But a nagging doubt persisted.

Dessert over, the four walked toward their suites. Passing through the lobby, Tai spotted the lounge. “Hey, Viv, you up for a cup of coffee?”

“If I drink a cup of coffee this time of night, I will be up!” She’d had a feeling since dinner that Tai needed some “sistah-girl time.” “I’d love a cup of tea, though.”

“Great.” Tai turned to King and Derrick, who were walking slightly behind them. “You guys go on up. Viv and I are going to hang out a minute, maybe hit the clubs.”

Vivian turned to Derrick. “Yeah, I might be able to pick up a boy toy.”

Derrick responded confidently. “Baby, you know you’ve got all the ‘toy’ you can handle.” He turned to King. “You ready to call it a night? Or do you want to walk off some of that soufflé?”

“Let’s step,” King replied, turning to the ladies. “We may be able to find a little something ourselves.” Waving, they turned and walked toward the exit.

“Oh, hell,” Tai said, turning to Vivian. “Just look at the idea you’ve planted. And with King, he really might mean it.”

“Please. King isn’t going to do anything that would jeopardize his future with you, especially not with Derrick in tow.”

Vivian and Tai walked into the lounge area. Immediately, a waiter came over and took their orders for decaf coffee and tea.

Vivian started right in. “So, what’s on your mind, Tai?”

Tai was equally straightforward. “I want to go to California next month.”

“Just you? Really?” Vivian was excited. She and Tai had had a ball during the S.O.S. Summit, when Tai had stayed in Los Angeles the entire month of September. “You know you’re always welcome at my house, girl. Just tell me when.”

“I just have to get a few things together, collect all of my information. Maybe in two weeks?”

The waiter brought their drinks over, giving Vivian a moment to think. As soon as he left, she asked, “What kind of information?”

Tai took a sip of coffee, set it down, and looked Vivian straight in the eye. “I want to see Kelvin. I want to see Tootie’s son for myself.”

Vivian got ready to respond, but Tai stopped her. “That’s the only way I’ll be able to truly put this behind me.”

Vivian took a sip of her tea but said nothing.

“I know it sounds crazy, and maybe it is. But Tootie has been a thorn in my side for over twenty years, half of my life. I want to make sure she’s out for good. I want to know in my heart of hearts that her oldest son is not King’s child.”

“But what’s to say you’ll know that by looking at him? He could look like Tootie.”

“As a woman who has four of his children, believe me, if King is anywhere in there, I’ll see him.”

Vivian couldn’t argue with that, nor could she argue with Tai. “If this will make you feel better, make you able to go on with your life in peace, then come on up. I’ll help you any way I can. Now, how do you propose to find a virtual stranger in some private school in tony Santa Barbara?”

Tai’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Remember my computer instructor, Bryan?” Tai’s taking a computer class to learn the Internet had grown into a full-fledged pursuit toward an associate degree.

Vivian remembered. “Is he still flirting with you?”

“Yes,” Tai said, smiling. “But it’s harmless. He knows I’m married. We’ve become friends.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Anyway, he’s a whiz when it comes to anything to do with computers, the Internet, and digging up information. I just gave him the name, the city, and said he was in a private school. And that’s how he found Kelvin.”

“What? You’ve already tracked him down?” Vivian looked at her friend with new eyes. “Somebody’s been busy.”

“By the time I get back, Bryan should have everything that can possibly be found out about this child on-line. Now, what we do when we find him, well, we’ll just have to flow.”

Vivian shook her head. Tai was full of surprises. Clasping her teacup, Vivian sat back against the cushy lounge chair and eyed her best friend of over twenty years. “Game on,” is all she could say.

Cy punched in the code and unlocked the door to his penthouse. Stepping aside so Hope could enter, he helped the limo driver bring the suitcases and bags inside. The driver thanked Cy for the generous tip and was gone.

“There’s no place like home,” Hope said as she walked into the living room and fell on the couch. “I thought we’d never get here.”

“It was a long flight,” Cy answered. He walked into the kitchen. “How about a glass of wine.”

“Sounds perfect.”

Cy and Hope loved travel, and planned to do lots of it. Their first stop as a married couple: visiting family. Because the engagement and marriage had been such a quick, whirlwind experience, there hadn’t been a real chance to interact with their families. The idea to do just that began with an invitation from Hope’s mother for “the city folk to come spend a week in the country.” They traveled to Oklahoma, where Cy spent time getting to know Hope’s parents. He and Hope stayed in a hotel near Mrs. Jones, and spent equal time with both her and Earl, Hope’s father, who lived on the other side of town. Always the hostess, Hope’s mother helped her put back on the five pounds she’d just lost with her southern-inspired peach cobblers and pound cakes. “Nothing wrong with some meat on the bones,” her mother would say, giving everyone a second helping.

From Oklahoma they traveled to Washington, D.C., and Cy’s family, going from down-home country to the capital’s elite. Cy’s father had spent almost thirty years in the military, retiring at sixty-five as a commissioned officer for the United States Army. He’d handled classified assignments for the government and was good friends with General Colin Powell. They’d served together in the military and Mr. Taylor often entertained the general and his wife, Alma, in the exclusive Chevy Chase neighborhood where the Taylor’s lived.

Although they’d met briefly before the wedding, Hope was initially intimidated by Mrs. Taylor’s refined style. That dissipated her first night in the home, as over coffee and pecan pie, Mrs. Taylor and Hope became better acquainted. Turns out, Mrs. Taylor was born and raised in Beaumont, Texas, and beneath the reserved demeanor was a warm, compassionate personality. They had more in common than Hope had initially thought, and with Hope’s fears eased, she settled into a wonderful time in the nation’s capital.

As tired as Hope was, she was already thinking about where they could go next. She thought about Frieda’s wanting to visit Cy’s island in the Caymans, and thought that might be a possibly exciting way to bring in the New Year.

“Here you go, darling. Thought I’d keep it light with Sauvignon Blanc.”

Hope accepted the wine. “Thank you, baby.”

Cy joined her on the couch. “It’s good to be home, huh?”

“Yes,” Hope replied. “Though I was just sitting here thinking of where we could go next.”

Cy knew exactly where they’d be going and smiled at the thought of the luxurious Mexican vacation he’d planned as Hope’s Christmas present, complete with a private plane for their transportation.

“I thought maybe we could return to the Caymans,” Hope continued, “bring in the new year. Frieda’s been bugging me ever since I told her how gorgeous it was down there. Maybe we could invite a small group and throw a party.”

“No,” Cy said simply. “I have other plans for the holidays.”

“Oh? What are those?”

“Those are for me to know,” Cy said, taking Hope’s hand and pulling her off the couch, “and for you to find out.”

Hope tried to pull away, but was no match for Cy’s strength. “What plans, Cy?” she asked, laughing. She allowed Cy to lead her into their massive master suite.

“All I can tell you is this: make no plans for the holidays. They’re taken care of.” Cy reached for Hope’s dress and began pulling it over her head. “And now,” he said, as he continued to undress her, “I’m getting ready to take care of something else.”