Redeeming Heart (5 page)

Suddenly the music stopped. Leaning forward,
Landon crossed his fingers and held his breath. Was it over? When
the women disappeared from the stage, he exhaled. Countless minutes
later, they reemerged. Octavia seemed refreshed from her gospel
workout. The other two in the group followed her. He stood.

“Landon, this is Kai,” Octavia said, pointing
to the woman with the braids, “and this is Deb.”

While Deb was the tallest and a looker, her
smile was forced. Kai, on the other hand, had a pretty smile, and
that was where the attraction stopped. “That’s nice of you to sit
through our rehearsal. My husband doesn’t have the same patience.”
Deb paused. “So Landon, what do you do for a living?” She scanned
his wrinkled shirt.

“He’s in between jobs,” Octavia intervened.
“If you and Cedric hear of any vacancies, pass it on to me.”

“Well, ladies, it’s getting late. I’ll be
happy to escort you to your cars.” Landon released his killer
smile, but if he didn’t get to a free dental clinic soon, he may
lose a tooth to a loosened filling.

Kai beamed. “Thank you, Landon.” She dragged
out his name. “One should never turn down security.”

“Or an iron,” Deb murmured, but Landon heard
it.

An elderly man in work clothes met them as
they were leaving the sanctuary. Clearly, Landon’s presence had
surprised him. “Hello.” He frowned, then turned to the ladies. “You
sisters truly have the gift of dancing. Let God keep using you. I
didn’t want to stop the music.”

The unseen conductor, Landon surmised.

Thank you, Brother Jeffries,” Octavia said,
then turned to him. “Ready?” she asked as if inviting a man to stay
at her home was a normal occurrence. How could she leave the
anointing behind? She was making it easy for him to seduce her, but
something about Octavia made Landon want to be a gentleman, protect
her and see her smile—all this in less than a day of knowing she
existed.

Landon didn’t understand it as he escorted
Kai and Deb to their vehicles before accompanying Octavia to hers.
Once she was behind the wheel and strapped in, Octavia paused
before starting the ignition. Landon wondered if she was having
second thoughts about inviting him into her home.

He braced for Octavia to rescind her offer as
he glanced out the window. It was probably for the best. She
didn’t. Instead of playing the radio, she opted to hum the song
she’d danced to numerous times. No doubt, he would hear music in
his sleep, but who cared. He would be in a soft bed.

About thirty minutes later, Octavia drove
into a neighborhood with overbearing trees. The bright street
lights cast shadows against them. The block was a mixture of
strategically placed apartment buildings between every couple
houses. It worked in the overall landscape.

Parking in a driveway, she turned off the
ignition and faced him. “Okay, we’re here. Get your things.”

This woman was too easy, too trusting and too
beautiful. The temptation was too ripe. “I appreciate this,
Octavia, but I hope you don’t pick up strays—” he didn’t like the
sound of that—“I mean, don’t do this all the time,” Landon felt
obligated to mildly scold her as if she was one of his two sisters,
although he might be talking himself out of a soft mattress.

“I’ll never tell. Besides, what you consider
as strays, in Luke 15, God calls lost sheep.”

Right, being led away for the slaughter.
Can we forget the Scriptures?
Landon clenched his teeth to keep
from asking. After getting his suitcase, he turned around and
scrutinized the building. As a real estate agent, he would have
expected her to live in a classy house or pricey condo. Landon
cleared his throat. Beggars couldn’t be choosy. “Hey, nice
place.”

“Glad you like it.” Together, they walked the
short path. Stopping at the door, she pressed the bell.

He frowned. Where were her door keys? Landon
didn’t consider she might have a roommate. An older gentleman
opened the door. She had said her father and step-mother relocated
to Florida, so who was this guy? Landon squinted. The man didn’t
look that old, even with his receding hairline and round
stomach.

“Octavia, you’re later than you said—had me a
little worried.” He scratched his head.

“Sorry, Brother McCoy. You know how I get
carried away with rehearsal.”

Landon snickered.

Octavia cut her eyes at him before making the
introductions. “This is Landon. He’s the one who needs a place to
stay and the works.”

Why was he relieved and disappointed at the
same time with her sleeping arrangements? “The works?” Landon
repeated.

Brother McCoy smiled and extended his hand to
Landon. “Yes. An assessment of your job skills and toiletries,
underwear…” he continued talking as he led them inside.

Landon was well aware of the routine shelter
evaluation upon entry. Landon had gone through the motions before
at other places to update his résumé, but what was the sense of
printing them out? He needed clean professional clothes, preferably
dry cleaned, a rental car with a GPS and a list of companies hiring
upper management. If he couldn’t earn the six-figure salary he once
enjoyed, he could manage with seventy thousand minimum. Who was he
kidding? At the present, he would be happy with a map and a
bicycle.

With the last one hundred dollars in his
pocket, he was running out of options. Half of it had come from a
stranger who reminded him of his grandfather. Along with the money,
the man gave him a business-size card with no name, no number, just
a prayer printed on it. Landon had actually prayed that day with
tears in his eyes, thanking God for the handout.

Although Landon needed steady income, he
would probably be working for free. Of all the things he learned
from his family, financial responsibility stuck. If he created a
debt, he believed in paying it. Shamefully, he had filed
bankruptcy, but some judgements the court wouldn’t dismiss and
honestly, Landon wanted to be held accountable. What a mess he had
made of his life. No doubt, garnishments would attack his first
paycheck like locusts in a wheat field. With the way his luck was
going, he might remain in poverty for decades to come.

“Thank you, Brother McCoy, for finding space
with short notice,” Octavia said and turned to Landon.

She took his hand and squeezed it. Hers was
soft. Octavia’s lips parted as if she was about to say something,
then changed her mind. Instead, she nodded, then headed for the
door.

Landon frowned at Brother McCoy. “Give me a
sec.” Still holding onto his suitcase, he hurried out the door and
caught up with Octavia before she got in. “You know, I thought you
were taking me to your house.”

Her smirk turned into a harmonious laugh. She
winked. “I bet you did. You’re welcome.” She got in and drove
away.

Staring at her fading taillights, Landon
shook his head. “She played me.”

Back inside the shelter, Brother McCoy was standing
in the same spot Landon had left him.

“Ready for your tour now?” His eyes danced
with mischief as if he had been in on the joke with Octavia.

Landon nodded and proceeded to follow him
throughout the two-story facility. He guessed the director’s age to
be somewhere near fifty years old. His mannerisms reminded him of
his eighty-year-old grandfather. Not many men possessed the
combination of an air of authority while being seemingly
approachable.

He and his grandfather, his father,
mother…and so many others had separated on bad terms long before he
had made the decision to leave town and start over. It was draining
rehashing his past as he contemplated his future.
This is just a
temporary bridge to cross,
he reminded himself.

I died on a cross for you,
God
whispered.

Why did God have to constantly tap into his
thoughts?
I know
, he silently admitted as he kept in step
with Brother McCoy. The facility looked more like a residence than
the compound that had been a shelter he had he lodged in overnight.
The floors and walls were clean and the place smelled of
disinfectant.

Turning down a short hall, Brother McCoy
invited him into a small but well-organized office. Once they were
seated, the formalities got underway with the customary intake of
information, which outlined the do’s and dont’s for residents at
the shelter. Despite his estranged relationship with his parents
and two sisters, he always gave his mother’s name and number for
contact in the event of an emergency, basically his demise.

“Breakfast will be served from seven to
eight-thirty. You’re expected to be out searching for work by nine,
except on the weekends. That’s your free time. Dinner will be
served at six-thirty….residents can stay here for up to ninety
days. If you need additional time, you can discuss it with your
case worker who will be assigned to you.”

Landon nodded. “Thank you for your
generosity. I hope not to be here that long. I’ve got to keep
moving—”

“I don’t know where you came from or what
circumstances caused the state you’re in,” Brother McCoy seemed to
study him, “but you first have to reconcile the past so that God
can restore anything you’ve lost. Restoration comes after
repentance. Ask God for it.”

Maybe, it was exhaustion or irritation, but
Landon had heard enough about God for one day. He became indignant.
“What makes you think I haven’t?”

He shrugged. “I say this to all the men who
come through those doors. Second, third, and fourth chances aren’t
a given. Only when you fix whatever was broken in the past can you
move on, or else you might slip back in the same circumstances.
Take it personal if it applies.”

“Sorry.” Landon rubbed his head. He had
jumped to conclusions. “Long day. My past is the past. Sometimes,
instead of patching a favorite shirt, you have to replace it with a
new, better one.”

“Ahh.” Brother McCoy grinned and nodded. “A
man with wisdom, and if he lacks any, let him ask of God who gives
it liberally without making the asker ashamed. That’s James
1:5.”

He was starting to sound like his
grandfather. Landon feigned a yawn, hoping Brother McCoy would take
the hint. The only thing he wanted was a shower and a bed free of
lice and bed bugs. Maybe, they could bump heads in the morning. “I
really do appreciate you allowing me to stay here, and I will abide
by your rules.”

Closing his file, Brother McCoy stood. “Then
we’ll get along fine. Come on, I’m sure you are tired.” Landon
grabbed his suitcase and followed him up a narrow passageway. They
were almost at the end of the hall when Brother McCoy tapped
lightly on the door before inserting a key to open it. “You’re on
the second floor and share a room with Grady Bacon.”

With a name like Grady, Landon wasn’t
expecting to see a man under sixty, but his roommate appeared to be
barely a teenager outfitted in a dingy muscle man T-shirt. He
hadn’t made a move to answer the knock. Glancing up from his cell
phone, Grady acknowledged him with a nod. Brother McCoy made quick
introductions, then left.

Landon rested his suitcase on the twin bed
that resembled a cot, but higher, then sat himself.

“So, what you in for?”

“Excuse me?” Landon was not interested in a
meet and greet.

“Did you get put out…?” Grady rambled off
possible scenarios.

With his elbows on his knees and his
shoulders slumped, Landon half-heartedly answered, “All of the
above.”

Grady reached over and offered him a fist.
Landon obliged to bump it with his. He didn’t want to be in close
quarters in a hostile environment. Without asking, Grady told more
about himself than Landon cared to know: Twenty-one, just got his
GED, three children and recently unemployed. “Mac’s been good to
me. He got me on at Wal-Mart. I don’t want to be locked up for two
years because I didn’t pay child support. It’s only a
misdemeanor.”

“No, a Class C Felony,” Landon corrected.

“Whatever. I’m cool. It’s minimum wage, but
I’ve got to start somewhere.” He flexed his muscles.

Somewhere, Landon mused. Where was his
somewhere with a BA from Boston University, an MBA from Emerson
College and seven years as a PR account executive. Despite his
résumé, he was in the same boat as Grady—displaced. Landon shared a
little—very little—about himself. The young man seemed to be
intrigued by Landon’s short version of his riches-to-rags story.
“Well, I’d better head to the showers.”

“All right.” Grady nodded as he reached for a
green pocket Bible.

Oh no.
As long as you don’t talk about
Jesus, we’ll get along
,
Landon thought
as he walked out the room with the goody bag from Brother McCoy
with a bar of Zest soap.

“What a day.” Octavia exhaled as she waited for a
red light to change
. Why do I feel like I dropped off a stray
pet at an animal shelter?

He needed rescuing
, the Lord answered
her.

She wished Jesus would have let her in on His
plan before Landon scared her half to death. After God told her not
to be afraid and she finally relaxed, Octavia enjoyed Landon’s
company.

She smiled. If he was shaved and cleaned up,
Landon would be handsome she supposed. It wasn’t the striking color
of his eyes that caught her attention—it was the depth of turmoil
that filled them, but with one blink, she erased the haunting from
her sight.

Octavia admired Landon for not having a
blame-other-people attitude about himself. Despite his plight, he
possessed confidence when he spoke and walked, yet the moment he
stepped inside church, his demeanor changed drastically. Clearly,
he didn’t want to be there.

Landon continued to invade her thoughts until
Terri’s ring tone played on her phone. Taking a deep breath, she
tapped her ear piece and prepared for a tongue lashing. “Hey,
girl.”