The Other Side of Divine (3 page)

—Lamentations 5:7

 

 

 

“H
ow are you?” Bennie asked Gabrielle.

“I'm fine.”

“You are . . . absolutely beautiful.” He shook his head. “I'm standing here in complete awe. I can't believe I had a hand in creating something so beautiful.”

“God created me,” Gabrielle said in an icy tone.

Bennie chuckled. “You're right. You're right. I just meant . . .”

Gabrielle folded her arms. “I know what you meant.”

“I don't want to upset you or anything. I promise I don't. But I'm just at a loss for words or the right words at this moment. It's been twenty-five years.”

Gabrielle frowned at him. “And whose fault is that?”

Bennie nodded as he folded his hands into each other. “I know it's all my fault. And I take full responsibility. Believe me: If I could go back in time and change things, do things all over again—”

“But you can't. So talking about it doesn't mean a hill of beans at this point.”

He nodded again. “You're right. I can't argue with you about any of this. I just want you to understand from my heart that I have complete remorse for what I did. I want you to know that I'm sorry. And Gabrielle, whether you believe me or not: I really did love your mother. I loved her
so
much. That's what I think sent me over the edge that day. Maybe I loved her
too
much.”

Gabrielle unfolded her arms and stared at him. “If that's your kind of love then I never want to experience it.” She wiped at a few tears that were now falling. “So why are you here?”

“You mean here or out of prison?”

“Both.”

“Is there somewhere you and I can go sit and talk? The old man is not as young as he used to be. And prison hasn't been so kind to me.”

“We were just about to sit down and eat before you came.”

Bennie nodded. “Okay. I get it. So you're saying that you'd like me to leave.”

“I wasn't expecting you. I didn't know you were about to get out, let alone
be
out,” Gabrielle said. “Nobody told me. You have to forgive me, but I'm having a bit of a time wrapping my brain around all of this right now.”

“I understand, and I'll cut to the chase. I was released earlier today and this is the first place I came. Gabrielle, I had to come find you . . . I had to come and see my baby girl,” Bennie said.

“Please don't do that.”

He tilted his head to one side. “Do what?”

“Don't call me your baby girl.”

“But you
are
my baby girl, Gabrielle Mercedes Booker.”

Gabrielle let out a short, deranged chuckle. “I dropped the Booker a
long
time ago. I'm Gabrielle Mercedes now.”

“Yeah, your aunt Cee-Cee wrote and told me that in one of the rare letters I got from her. It's been lonely being away from family; you just don't know how much. I've missed you, Gabrielle. I used to ask Cee-Cee to bring you to the prison for a visit, but she always had some excuse why she couldn't. Somehow, in all the years you were living with her, she never got around to it.” Bennie walked over to the staircase and sat down on the next to the bottom step.

Gabrielle stayed where she was, merely turning toward him as he continued to speak. “I wrote and told Cee-Cee about a year and a half ago that there was a good chance, a mighty good chance, that I might make parole this time around. I told her I would need a place to come home to if that was to happen.”

“Good old Aunt Cee-Cee,” Gabrielle said, stepping closer to where her father sat. “The person I ended up with after you
murdered
my mother.” Gabrielle practically spat the words at his dark brown, worn face.

“Why do you say it like that? Did my sister not do right by you?”

Gabrielle released a sinister chortle this time around. “You don't know the half of all I've been through these years.” She wiped hard at tears that were making their way down her face.

Bennie stood up and placed his hands gently on her shoulders. “Gabrielle, what did my sister do? Tell me.”

Gabrielle pulled away from his hand and took two steps back. “I don't want to talk about it. Not with you.”

“But suffice it to say, your years with her were not pleasant. Her husband, Dennis . . . did he—”

“I said I don't want to talk about them, any of them, okay?” Gabrielle's voice escalated.

Bennie nodded as he held his hands up to calm her. “Okay. All right. I guess this is starting to make a little more sense now. I told Cee-Cee I had a good chance of being released. And during a rare time of sending back a response, she sent me a letter giving me your address saying this is where I should come if I were to ever get out. I tried calling her last year, but the number was disconnected. A letter I sent after that was returned without a forwarding address.”

“Yeah. They were evicted from their house. I'm not sure where they're living these days. They came here briefly. Listen, I really don't want to talk about this right now. I don't care about Aunt Cee-Cee or her sorry excuse for a husband or her children or grandchildren. I just don't.” Gabrielle wrapped her arms around herself.

“I understand. But I had to come and see you for myself. I had to look into your eyes and tell you how sorry I am for all the pain and hurt my actions caused you. I'd love to give you a hug if you'll let me. In fact, I
need
to hug you, Gabrielle. I know it might sound crazy for a grown man to be saying something like this. But I need to hold you in my arms. I want to ask your forgiveness and have you to accept it.” Bennie stepped closer to Gabrielle, who quickly took an equal number of steps back from him.

“I'm saved, you know,” he said with a quick nod, standing in his spot without moving any closer to her. “I gave my life to the Lord a little over fifteen years ago. I've been walking with God for a long time. I'm not the same man you once knew. The Word of God says, ‘If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature. ' I'm a new creature, Gabrielle. Not that wretched, vile man you once knew.”

Gabrielle looked at him, diligently searching his face. For what? She wasn't sure. “I'm glad that you're saved. I am. That's really good to hear.”

“Yes, sir. I asked God to forgive me and He has. Now, I need your forgiveness. I want to try and make things right.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you need me to forgive you?” Gabrielle said.

“I took your mother from you. I did a despicable act and murdered someone. Someone I promised to love, honor, and cherish. Someone I was supposed to protect, not put my hands on to hurt, and most certainly not to kill. I took her life and, in ways I can tell just by your eyes right now, I took away a part of
your
life. I never intentionally meant to hurt your mother; I didn't. And I never meant to hurt you. But I ended up doing both. They say I've paid my debt to society. And in my incarceration, I also found the Lord. And God changed me. Standing in front of you is a new creature who wants to make amends for the wrong done, starting with you.”

“You need somewhere to stay, don't you?” Gabrielle asked point-blank.

He pursed his lips. “Well, yes, I do. But that's not what this is about. True, I don't have anywhere to stay right now. When they release you from prison, it's generally on
you
to make it out here. But I'm not here saying these things to you because I need a place to stay. I promise you that's the gospel truth.”

“But you do need me or someone to let you stay with them, for now anyway.”

“Okay, Gabrielle.” His voice projected a slight edge now. “Yes, I was going to ask you if I could stay here, at least until I can figure out my next move.”

“I don't know if I want you here,” Gabrielle said, wrapping her arms even tighter around about herself.

“Look, you have this big old house here. You can lend your old pops a room. I promise I'll stay out of your way. I know you need time to process everything. And if you don't want to have to look in my face just yet, I can stay in my room and out of your way until you're ready. I've been in solitary confinement before. Being confined to a room in a beautiful place like this would be like Heaven for me. It's just . . . the two of us have things we need to work out. What better way to do that than for me to be here with you so when you
are
ready, I'm right at your fingertips?”

“Gabrielle, are you all right?” Miss Crowe said, stepping back into the foyer. “You know, the food is on the table. We're going to have to reheat it if we don't go in and eat it about now. Jasmine has the table set so beautifully. I know you wouldn't want to disappoint her or anything.”

Gabrielle looked at Miss Crowe with tears in her eyes. “I'm okay.”

“I'm sorry,” Bennie said to Miss Crowe. “But I don't think we were properly introduced the first time around. I gave my name, but I didn't get yours.”

Miss Crowe looked unyieldingly at him. She could see how much he'd upset Gabrielle in just his brief time with her. She wasn't sure she liked this man much at all. She didn't know whether he really could be trusted. “My name is Esther Crowe.”

“And who exactly are you to my daughter?”

“She's like the mother I never had.” Gabrielle looked at Miss Crowe now.

“Well, Miss Crowe. It appears you have been a blessing in my daughter's life. And for that, I'd like to
personally
thank you.” He bowed his head to Miss Crowe. “Gabrielle, my bag is just outside the door. I only have the one bag. So what do you say? May I stay if nothing more than for the night?”

Miss Crowe looked at Gabrielle, who wouldn't look her way now. If she had been able to get her to look her way, she would have stealthily shook her head to let her know she didn't think that was a good idea at all. Not at this point. Gabrielle needed to think a bit more on this before saying yes, even to just one night. Miss Crowe knew how this worked. Gabrielle might not be able to get him to leave.

“You don't have anywhere else you can go?” Gabrielle asked Bennie. “You don't have or know any person other than me?”

“You're all I have in this whole wide world right now. You, and of course, the Lord. Everybody else has forsaken me . . . turned their backs on me.”

Gabrielle looked long and hard at him. He
was
her father. How could she turn her own father away? He'd confessed to being saved now. He'd asked God to forgive Him and God had done that. Whether she was at a place to forgive him was yet to be determined. But if she turned him away, where would he go?

“Okay. You can stay the night,” she said. “Tomorrow, we'll see where we go from there.”

Bennie smiled. “Thank you. And God bless you for this. Glory to God, I thank You for hearing my cry! Thank You, Jesus for being true to Your Word.” He nodded toward Gabrielle. “I'll go out and get my bag.” He hurried out of the door and came back in quickly with one small suitcase.

“I'll show you to your room,” Gabrielle said, taking him to the bedroom the farthest away from all the other bedrooms. The house was full now; no more vacancies. Miss Crowe stayed with her often these days and had her own bedroom. Jasmine's room was next to Gabrielle's.

Bennie set his beat-up suitcase on the bed. He pulled out a small bag of potato chips. “I'm kind of hungry. I haven't eaten since they released me earlier today.”

“We're about to eat supper. You're welcome to join us if you'd like.”

He smiled. “Bless you. Bless you. I'd like that very much.” He nodded.

“There's a bathroom in your room there. Towels are already in it. I'll see you downstairs in a few minutes.” She turned to walk out.

“Gabrielle, thank you. I really appreciate this.”

“No problem,” Gabrielle said, having turned back to him.

“Oh, and Gabrielle?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

Gabrielle nodded, then stepped into the hallway. She stopped midway down the hall, braced her back against the wall, and covered her face as she silently cried.

—Lamentations 3:7

 

 

 

D
arius Connors was at the end of his rope. He and his wife, Tiffany, had been separated for close to five months now. Though admittedly, he'd been shocked when she took that extra step of having him legally put out of
their
house, he'd never had any real doubt when their troubles began that they'd make their way back to resolving things just as they'd always done. But her doing this (something totally out of character for her, by the way) made it more difficult for him to work his magic as he'd been able to do in the past.

Early on, Pastor Landris had offered him housing where he could have also received marital counseling while working things out with his wife. But he'd been adamant that there was no way he was going to reside in a place riddled with folks who had drug, alcohol, and who knew what other kinds of problems.

So for the months he'd been not only without a job but out of his house, he'd crashed at the homes of various folks, starting with his good friend Big Red, who'd promptly put him out after only three weeks when it became apparent that Darius wasn't trying to find a job
or
make any sincere effort toward making things right with his wife and family. Darius contended that was more of Big Red's wife's doing than Big Red's.

It hadn't been that Darius wasn't trying to find a job, but the 2011 economy was proving to be not much better than 2010. As for his marriage, he was working on Tiffany, who he could tell was breaking down. If it hadn't been for the friends that surrounded her, she wouldn't have lasted a week with him out of the house. He knew that. Tiffany loved him; of that much he was certain.

But at this point, he'd exhausted all of his options for a place to stay. He'd talked extensively with Paris Simmons-Holyfield back in early October when she wanted to talk to him privately. He didn't have any objections to that. After all, he considered Paris a friend from the time they'd worked together. And maybe she would put him up somewhere nice. But it didn't take him but a minute to see that she was tripping like all of the other women. She'd told him she was pregnant. Knowing how much she'd wanted a child, he'd been excited for her.

But then Paris had laid the revelation on him that she wasn't sure the baby she was carrying was even her husband's and that there was a real possibility the baby could be his. He wasn't trying to hear any of that noise
at all
. The
last
thing he needed right now while trying to get back with his wife (who believed he'd cheated on her with another woman) was to confess that he had a baby on the way, proving he had cheated on her even more recently than he was being accused of.

“Darius, they have a procedure that can be done to tell the paternity of a baby while it's still in the womb,” Paris had said. “It's a bit risky, but there's a certain short window where it can be done without being as much of an endangerment to the life of the baby. I'd like to do that using your DNA to eliminate you as the father.”

Well, that window came and went. Number one: Darius didn't believe the baby Paris was carrying was his. Number two: He didn't see any reason to do anything that could come back and haunt him later. He told Paris, unlike her, he didn't have an extra thousand dollars lying around for the two-thousand-dollar test (the cost Paris offered to split with him). And because the window was so short, Paris ended up having to drop the idea altogether. The last thing Paris wanted (after finally getting pregnant) was to do something that might cause her to lose the baby.

So Paris's due date was April 28, 2011. In three months, she would be having the baby and who knew what drama might come with
that
birth.

Darius, with his belongings in his gas-guzzling SUV, tried to decide where to go now that he'd exhausted his fourth and final living arrangement. He'd parked outside of his house, opting to sleep in his vehicle for two nights. He'd been certain if Tiffany were to see him out there, she'd break down and agree to let him come in and stay. It was nearing the end of January and dead winter. No one could be heartless enough as to allow the father of her children to sleep outside in that kind of weather. All he needed was one night alone with Tiffany and he knew he could win her back, and therefore his way back into his house and back into his nice warm bed.

But Tiffany stood firm on him not sleeping there the first night or the second, not even in the den on the couch. Darius had always hated when folks who lived in their vehicles claimed they were homeless. But now he saw that was in fact what they were when they did that: homeless.

It was morning. He watched Tiffany load the children up and leave. She was standing firm and not going to waver. It was then that he knew it was time for him to get right with God and put all this foolishness aside. Tiffany and God had won. He was ready to go see Pastor Landris and do whatever he needed to do to get his family back.

Darius was out of money, out of time, and almost out of gas, literally. On his way to the church to see Pastor Landris, he stopped at the gas station. He didn't even have enough money to get a full gallon of gas. He laughed as he recalled how some of the older men would tell tales of how they used to be able to buy a dollar's worth of gas and end up with three to four gallons. Not anymore. Those days were like fairy tales now.

He pulled up to the pump behind a woman who was stepping out of her car talking on her cell phone. She continued to talk on the phone as she lifted the nozzle from its holding place, preparing to pump gas. Darius quickly rushed up to her and grabbed the nozzle out of her hand.

“Let me do that for you,” he said to her. She had light brown eyes that were a beautiful almond shape. Her lips were full, blood red and glistening from lip gloss perfectly placed. She was wearing a wig, but it was definitely the expensive kind made of quality human hair. The black leather coat she wore was buttoned down to her waist, hugging her body thereby showing how much of her curves were hitting in all the right places.

She looked at him as she released the nozzle into his capable hands. But she didn't say anything to him. Not bothering to tell him how she could do it herself and that she didn't need his help, as he'd grown accustomed to being told at times by independent women, or how much gas she wanted. She merely stepped away and continued her conversation with the person she was talking with on the phone.

Darius decided to pump until it stopped. If she'd prepaid (which she most likely had), it would automatically stop when it reached the prepaid amount. Since she didn't tell him an amount and didn't object to him pumping, he decided she'd probably done that or was planning to fill it up. She had most definitely been on empty, as it stopped three cents pass sixty-dollars.

She put her phone in her coat pocket and walked back over to him. Looking at the electronic counter, she yelled, “What have you done?! I don't have but twenty dollars! I can't pay that!”

“What?” Darius said, looking from the pump to her. “You didn't plan to fill it up?”

“No! I don't have but twenty dollars. What have you done?”

“Then why didn't you tell me you only wanted twenty dollars' worth of gas when I offered to pump it?” Darius said.

“I didn't ask you to pump anything for me. You just came over and took it out of my hands like you were Mr. In Control. I hope you have enough money on you to pay the rest.” She stared hard at him with her arms folded, her lips buttoned tightly.

“No, I don't have enough. In fact, I don't have enough for
one
gallon of gas, let alone . . .” He looked at the pump again and rubbed his hand over his entire head. “Didn't you see that I was going over? Why didn't you say something then to stop me?”

She continued to stare hard at him. “Well, do you have a credit card or a debit card?”

“I'm not going to pay for gas that just went into your car,” Darius said.

“Well, I'm not going to pay for it, either. I didn't pump it.” She pulled out her cell phone. “I suppose we have a problem then.” She began to press buttons on her phone.

“Who are you calling?”

“The police,” she said. “You don't have the money to pay for this. I didn't tell you to do it. I'm definitely not going to jail for this. And we know if I drive off without paying, they're going to come looking for
me
not
you
.”

“Put that phone away,” Darius said. “I'm sure we can work something out.”

She looked him up and down, still holding her phone but in a more relaxed mode now. “Okay. I'm listening.”

Darius didn't have a clue what to do. His only credit card had been totally maxed out months ago and apparently Tiffany wasn't making any payments that were making a dent on the balance. He didn't have any cash money. He already owed money to anyone who may have been open or foolish enough to loan him money. He began to pace and rubbed his head. “You see. It just doesn't pay to try and do a good deed anymore.” He looked at her. “I offered to pump your gas because you were about to pump while you were on your cell phone wearing leather, no less. Apparently you haven't heard how dangerous that combination can be. I was trying to keep you from blowing yourself up. And now I'm stuck with you wanting me to pay for gas that's in
your
tank, when I don't even have enough money for one gallon of gas to put in mine.”

She twisted her mouth and put her phone in her coat pocket. “You know, you really are kind of cute.”

Darius didn't know how to respond to that. “Thank you. I think,” he said.

“So, what's your name, cutie?”

“Darius. Darius Connors,” he said.

She smiled. “Well, Darius Connors, I appreciate you for caring enough that you'd do something so gallant and noble like that for me. Wait right here,” she said, then strolled toward the store.

Darius thought about leaving as he watched her walk inside. She was definitely self-assured. He liked the way she carried herself. She now knew
his
name, but he didn't know hers. If he left, she could always give the police his name so it was to his benefit to hang around until she returned. Besides, she was really hot.

She grinned as she walked back over to him, going around the back of his car. “I had to go get my change,” she said. “I told them I was filling it up, but you never know how much it will take. And they make you pay upfront, especially these days.” She laughed. “Got you!”

“Woman,” Darius said, placing his hand over his heart. “You had me going there for a minute.” He chuckled. “You're something. Just a little jokester, I see.”

“Yeah. I just wanted to have a little fun with you. Listen, I paid twenty dollars on your pump. Why don't you put the gas in your car and you and I go get a little breakfast and maybe talk? That's if it's all right with your wife.”

“You paid for me some gas? Twenty dollars' worth?”

“Yes, Darius Connors. It's the least I could do.”

“Well, I can't thank you enough for that. And I don't even know your name.”

“You can find out whatever you want to know about me over breakfast. So are you game or do we say our good-byes here at the pump?” she said.

He stuck the nozzle in his tank. “Breakfast it is, just as soon as I finish pumping my gas here.”

She smiled as she walked back to her car. She opened her car door, then stopped and looked back at him. “When you finish, you can just follow me.” She got in and closed the door of her cobalt-blue 2011 Jaguar.

Darius finished pumping, then smiled.
Breakfast
.