Wearing My Halo Tilted (25 page)

I didn't know them personally, but the Stokeses had been in the spotlight lately. The press loved talking about how much the family was putting Georgia on the map. I had seen headlines touting the way their community involvement had helped decrease the number of homeless people, increase the number of corporate headquarters in Georgia, and raise the state's literacy rate. I'd always felt that though we hadn't had a black president yet, we needed more politicians to keep reaching for it. And what better candidate than a family man who had been a politician and the leader of a church. Plus, I could get behind someone who wanted to work for America as president and not just push his own agenda. Reverend Stokes seemed like that type of person.

“They seem like the real deal,” I said.

“Whatever,” Troy grumbled, heading into the kitchen. “Wait 'til the press starts eating them up. All their dirty laundry will be out there.” Troy poured himself a shot of gin. “White folks don't want a brother in the White House. They're afraid we'll get in there and make our own rules.” Troy laughed to himself.

“White people aren't the only ones who vote. You'll vote for him, won't you?”

Troy chugged his drink. “I don't know anything about the man.”

“He's black and he's a Democrat. Plus, he has a good track record,” I said, angry at his stubbornness. “What else do you need to know?”

“Chris, if you ever meet them you'll probably see they aren't that impressive. I bet those smiles are only on the surface. Most politicians I come across are phony.”

“All of them can't be bad,” I said, gathering my stuff. “I imagine their life is pretty wonderful.”

“Then I suggest you apply for the Secret Service temp job, guard them for a while, and find out all their dirty little secrets. Then you'll see that the rosy picture you're talking about isn't so perfect.”

I spotted my toothbrush and makeup case and stuffed them into my Gucci overnight bag. Walking back to the living room, I said, “Temp job? What are you talking about?”

“It was posted through the inner office e-mail system. Something about because it's election time, the Secret Service needs bodies to help them cover the presidential candidates,” Troy said before kissing me on the cheek and opening his apartment door.

Once on the other side of his door, I raised my eyebrow, nodded my head, and thought,
Good riddance, Mr. Evans. And maybe I should look into that temp job.
It was time for a new venture.

T
he following week was not easy. I did apply for the temp job with the Secret Service. But I worried about the possibility of being pregnant. What would I do with a baby? I simply forced myself to concentrate on work. And with many files on my desk needing to be reviewed and data entry piling up, I had much to do.

The stress of my life made me glad I would soon be headed to Texas for my college roommate and best friend's wedding. Although I had strayed away from God, Eden still remained true to the Lord. She was the only woman I was close to, with the exception of my mother and Crystal, my feisty younger sister. Even though we now lived in separate cities, when Eden asked me to be her maid of honor, I gladly accepted.

I was busy typing away at my desk. Over the last week, work had been easy. I didn't have to deal with Troy, because he was in Maryland working with the DEA on a drug case dealing with suspected trafficking to the D.C.-area high schools. I was thrilled to pieces that we didn't have to see each other. And since he hadn't called, I knew he wasn't trying to deal with me, either.

“Ware,” my supervisor yelled, “I need to see you in my office. Now.”

What's his problem?
I wondered as I rose from my chair.

Everyone in the office considered my boss, Thomas Hunter, an intimidating man. And he knew it. He spent most of his time sitting behind his large mahogany desk barking out orders to other people, instead of being useful in the field. Personally, I rather admired his arrogance.

I stood in his doorway, leaning against the wall, and watched him flip through some files in a tall, wooden cabinet. Hunter's jet-black hair started high on his pale forehead and extended to a shoulder-length ponytail. Plaques and awards graced every wall. The credenza held photographs of him cavorting with beautiful women in exotic locations.

I folded my arms across my chest and cleared my throat. Hunter scoped me briskly through his wire-rimmed spectacles, then motioned for me to take a seat.

“Good morning, hard worker,” he said in a calm voice that contradicted his earlier tone. As I took the chair beside his desk, he settled into his large leather one behind it.

“Agent Ware,” he said, leaning back, “I know you've been frustrated about not being out in the field since the shooting. Your work to date has indeed been impressive, but I've been waiting for the right situation to come along. Since you put in for that temp job, I think we'll give it a try. I have to send a qualified agent to assist with the detail of a presidential candidate. And you did save one of our agents' life. You've proven this is in your blood.”

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Hunter was actually recommending me for the job. I could have jumped around the room like a cheerleader.

“I trust you've heard that Senator Steven Stokes is running for president.”

“Yes, sir, I saw he had a press conference last week.”

“Secret Service said he's received some death threats.”

I nodded. Presidential candidates were always threatened by crazies with deeply held political views. Adding the race issue to the equation made Reverend Stokes a prime target.

He continued, “They said typically they don't assign agents before training, but when I sent your profile to the Secret Service they chose you because the protectee wanted an African-American and they thought by having a woman on the detail she'd blend in to many of the locations Stokes visits as well. And I really think it's a good idea, too.”

“You do?” I asked, knowing that no one else in the office wanted to take the assignment. I wondered what the Secret Service really thought about an FBI agent coming into their ranks.

“I don't want you to become alarmed, but . . .” Hunter said, sending butterflies loose in my stomach, “Rudy Roberts has been released from the hospital and is out on bond.”

I was so relieved that the bullet didn't kill Roberts. Though having a criminal out walking the streets certainly didn't promote peace of mind.

“Roberts is a known felon with a thick rap sheet. I wouldn't be surprised if he came looking for revenge.”

“You think he may come after me?” I questioned.

“You, Evans, this office, others investigating him. I know the way the case shook you up. I'm just happy to have you away from the whole thing now that we have to deal with it again. If he does come for you, you won't be here. But I don't want you to worry about this now.”

Easy for him to say—it wasn't his life in danger. I didn't plan to dwell on Roberts, but I couldn't disregard the threat, either.

“I know you'll be in Texas this weekend on personal time. When you come back I'm giving you the week off before you head down to Georgia for your Secret Service training.” I was nodding my head as if that was okay, but he wasn't hearing it. “Get your affairs in order. Then Monday after next you can pick up your ticket at the airport when you head out.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said as I stood to shake his hand.

He gave a
no problem
nod. “Just make the FBI proud.”

“Will do.”

I walked out of Agent Hunter's office on a cloud. Guarding the Reverend Steven Stokes would mark an end to my days of boredom behind a desk for at least six months to a year, depending upon whether or not he won the Democratic nomination.

For some reason, at that moment I remembered my prayer at Troy's house. Maybe God had a plan for me after all. Thinking of God let me not stress about Roberts, Troy, or anything. I'd talked to God and He'd replied. Though my communication wasn't that clear, I was suddenly ready and willing to get a stronger line with the Lord. I really was on a cloud.

 

 

On the flight to Texas, I tried to keep my focus on Eden's wedding. She was marrying Dion Jones. Back in college, Dion, Eden, Max, and I used to double date. Eden was my girl. She was always there for me. I sure hoped Dion had changed for Eden's sake or she was going to be in trouble.

Ironically, Eden and I took home pregnancy tests together our senior year. We held each other's hand as five minutes slowly passed. I looked at mine first.

“It's going to be okay, Chris,” Eden said with wet eyes.

“I just hope I'm the only one who has to go through this.”

“Come check with me, please. I'm scared,” she pleaded.

Looking at her positive result broke my heart as much as when I saw mine. The rest of the day we were in mourning.

“What are we going to do?” she asked me.

“I can't keep this baby,” I told her. “But you may want a family now.”

“Are you kidding?” she questioned as she paced the floor. “I haven't even finished school. Dion doesn't have a job. We can't have kids now. I want to abort.”

Three days later we were at the clinic, scheduling appointments to get rid of our mistakes. We vowed not to mention this to the guys, figuring they would try and talk us out of it.

The nauseating scent of the abortion clinic and the depressing sadness that filled the faces of the many women sitting in the waiting room made it even harder. Eden and I were there for each other, but when they called us into separate rooms I had to be strong. As I placed my feet in the cold stirrups, I knew there was no going back. But when what felt like a vacuum sucked life out of me, I immediately regretted my choice.

Eden nearly went crazy with guilt. She didn't come out of her room for two days. I could hear her moaning and crying, but there was nothing I could do for her. She shut me out. And we shut out the guys by not answering their calls.

The third day after our procedures, I went to pick up some Chinese food for us. Eden loved shrimp fried rice. When I returned to the apartment, I was surprised to see her sitting in Dion's lap.

“We can have other children,” he said, consoling her.

Angrily I asked, “You told him. Why'd you break our . . .”

To my surprise, Max came from behind the door and cut me off. “Why didn't you tell me?”

I was so upset with Eden. It was one thing for her to share her business with her man, but she crossed the line when she let Max know what I'd done to our child.

“Eden, how could you?” I said as I placed the food down and headed to my room.

Max followed me down the hall. I tried shutting my door in his face, but that didn't work. He pushed it open.

“Eden didn't tell me, Dion did. And when you didn't return my calls the last few days I was worried. I knew there was a chance we could be pregnant.” Max said, revealing new info. “And I was ready to accept my responsibility if that was the case. But you didn't give me a choice, did you? You ended our baby's life without even telling me.”

It was clear by Dion's loving support of Eden that he'd forgiven her. Max, on the other hand, couldn't forgive me. I was feeling bad enough about my decision, but his reaction made me feel worse.

“I thought you cared about me and understood what I would want,” he went on. “But how could a woman who loved me kill my child?”

“It wasn't that simple,” I pleaded, wanting him to hear me out.

“Well, no need to explain now. You made your bed, now lie in it—without me. We're through.”

Then he just walked out on me. I'd killed my baby and my relationship. My choice still haunts me. Eden and I didn't speak for a few weeks after that, but then she came to me with sincerity, telling me how awful she felt.

“Chris, I never meant for Dion to open up to Max. And I actually thought Max would have been there for you. I'm so sorry. I've made mistake after mistake, but I want to make things right. My baby is gone forever. I can't lose my best friend, too.” Tears welled up in Eden's eyes.

I hugged her and we were cool from then on. Truthfully, I needed her support to help me move on without the guy I loved. Unfortunately for me, Max had remained good friends with Eden and Dion. They were so close, in fact, that Max was going to be Dion's best man.

I hadn't seen Max in three years. Eden and Dion had set us up on a reunion date, trying to get us back together. We'd had a little fling, but Max wasn't ready for commitment. My stomach churned at the thought of seeing him again.

 

 

When I arrived at the Texas airport at five in the afternoon, I rented a little blue economy car and drove straight to the rehearsal at the United Methodist Church. I'd been there with Eden several times during my college days. Though a few years had passed, the town hadn't changed. The wide-open space was a breath of fresh air. Though I loved the city life in D.C., I also appreciated the countryside. I found the church without even looking at a map.

When I pulled into the parking lot, Eden was closing the trunk of a car. I honked and she screamed. I couldn't park fast enough.

Eden opened my door when I stopped. “Christian, you're here! Thank God. I need you. This is so stressful.”

I got out and we hugged. Though we talked extensively at least once every month, it had been a little over a year since I'd seen her. She'd come up to D.C. for two weeks the summer before last to stay with me as a getaway from Dion and her job. She had been an elementary-school teacher since college, and even though she loved kids, she was ready for a break by the time the school year ended.

When I asked her about her excitement, she didn't respond. I wondered if she was having second thoughts about marrying Dion.

“We can get in this car right now and drive far away from here. Just say the word,” I said.

“I can't leave.” Tears flowed down her face. I hugged her, then stepped back to take a good look at her. She and I were the same height, five-foot-six, and her skin was a few shades lighter than mine. But something about her seemed a little homelier than I remembered. Her clothes were so dowdy, not at all cool. Her thick auburn hair wasn't stylishly cut, and tiny wrinkles creased the corners of her eyes and the edges of her lips.

“Okay—you're staring, Chris,” Eden said as she looked away. “I know I look tore up. You just don't know how much hell I've been going through.”

I grabbed her hand and made her face me. “Tell me why you look so tired.”

“This is just so much. I feel smothered. I want everything to be right and it seems like everything is going wrong.”

She went on to tell me that one of her bridesmaids had cancelled yesterday, and more of her relatives came into town than they had booked hotel rooms for. The flowers were going to cost more than originally expected, and she was all out of funds.

“What am I gonna do?” she asked, squeezing her head with her hands.

“You're going to take a deep breath and relax. Eden, this is your time for happiness and nothing should steal your joy.” I reached down inside the car and pulled out my checkbook from my Coach bag. “How much do you need?”

“I can't let you do this,” Eden said, trying to close the book.

“Like I need your permission,” I said, moving the checkbook away from her. “It's not every day your best friend gets married. And with my boring life, I've got a few dollars I'm not using.”

Eden was reluctant to give me an amount, so I handed her a check for one thousand dollars. Since I hadn't gotten a gift for the couple, this worked out for me, too.

“Consider this a wedding present. And remember, nothing is going to spoil your happiness during this special time.”

She clutched her chest upon seeing the amount. “You are a blessing! God will take care of you.”