When Perfection Fails (8 page)

Lenora picked up the article with the note attached to it. She eased slowly into the chair as past memories stirred in her mind. She shook her head in disbelief and asked “Who sent this?”

Charmayne stared at her wild-eyed. “I don't know. I need you to help me find out.” She leaned over the desk and jabbed her finger toward Lenora. “We are the only two people who knew about this.”

Lenora glared at Charmayne. “Really, Charmayne, that's not exactly true, and you know it.” God certainly knew what happened that night. Lenora had been filled with guilt and shame about her own lack of actions. Like Charmayne, she moved on with her life, but the article she held in her hand was a visible reminder of her sins. She continued, “Everything happened so fast. We don't know if someone saw us in the car that night or not.”

She averted her eyes away from the neatly typed note and read the attached copy of a newspaper article. It was dated May 3, 1989.

Lenora closed her eyes. This was over twenty-five years ago, but the incident clung to her like a vague, unwanted memory. Charmayne's black Honda Civic was in the vicinity of this accident and not too far from Lenora's home. After Charmayne had dropped her off, she walked in her home too stunned to even care about her mother's anger for missing her curfew. She wouldn't look into her mother's eyes, not out of shame for attending a party instead of a study group, but because only a few blocks away, she was sure someone had been injured due to Charmayne's recklessness.

That night she could've blamed her mother's tirade for not choosing to go back to where Charmayne's car made contact with something or someone. Instead, she closed the door of her bedroom and remained awake all night, wondering why she didn't tell her mother, a nurse, who could've provided medical attention. Sleep didn't come that night, nor did she sleep the next several nights as she monitored what happened to the man on the news.

Most of the time the news was no help with providing information, because they reported on what was new and hot. She did eventually catch a news article that stated the man had been released from the hospital.
Is this him doing this now? After all this time? Why?

Lenora reached for her bag underneath the desk.

Charmayne yelped, “What are you doing? We need to figure this out.”

“Didn't I tell you to keep your voice down?” Lenora glared, and then turned to pull her phone out of her bag. “Last week at Pastor Jeremiah's funeral, I received this text message.” She scrolled through her phone and showed the message to Charmayne.

Charmayne looked at her, and then read the message. She clutched her shirt and stared back at Lenora. “What? Did you tell anybody about this yet?”

“No. I'm still trying to process these messages. A few hours later, my son and his girlfriend were involved in a hit-and-run accident.”

Charmayne tilted her head to the side. “You said messages. Have there been more?”

Lenora responded, “I received a similar text message a few days later right before Keith was being approved to be discharged from the hospital. I tried to call the person back. A man picked up and asked me. ‘How's Keith?'”

Charmayne opened her mouth, and then snapped it closed again. She began to rub her arms like she was freezing. “Lenora, that's crazy! It's a coincidence. I mean, you certainly don't think someone purposely tried to harm your son.”

Her face felt warm. Lenora placed her hands under her chin. “I don't know what to think. I thought this was a prank . . . until I heard the man's voice.”

“You didn't recognize the voice either?”

Lenora eyed Charmayne. “Either?” Her brows furrowed as she observed the way Charmayne had wrapped her arms around her body. Her friend, in all her bravado, was visibly trembling. Lenora picked up the article on her desk and stretched out her arm toward Charmayne. “This wasn't the first time you received something like this. You've had someone contact you on the phone.”

Charmayne twisted her hands. “That's how it started. The phone. I picked up the phone, and I knew someone was there. For several days, they wouldn't say a word. I was almost ready to change the number, and then one day I heard a man's voice ask, ‘How do you think it will feel to lose everything?' This all started a few days after Daddy died.”

The silence that swarmed down on them was almost deafening. Lenora sat back in her seat and clutched the arms of the chair. “Are you seriously telling me you've been getting threats like this for almost three months? Why haven't
you
said anything? Surely, you went to the police by now.”

“No.”

Lenora stood, forgetting to keep her own voice down so no one would hear her outside the office. “Why?”

Charmayne snapped, “Because I was trying to figure out the identity of this person. It wasn't until today when I got this envelope I realized this is someone from the past. Someone who is holding this accident over my head. Our heads, I guess.”

Charmayne gulped as tears flowed down her face. She sputtered out her words as her shoulders heaved with emotion. “I've been driving myself crazy because it's like the whole world is against me since Daddy died. The mayor, the council, the other day I thought you and your husband had turned on me too.”

Lenora walked from behind the desk. “Okay, calm down. We'll figure this out. You've been getting threats for almost three months, and it started after Bishop Hudson's funeral. I started to get strange text messages after Pastor Jeremiah's funeral.”

Charmayne took deep breaths. “Why would someone do this now? What's so significant about sending threats after these funerals?”

Lenora shook her head. In her mind, she knew Bishop Hudson had made several enemies. There was no way there was any connection to Pastor Jeremiah. After all, the message came to her, not Jonathan.

Something else was still bothering Lenora.
Why am I being targeted?
That means someone knew she was a passenger in the car that night too. Lenora paced. This made no sense. She stopped pacing and turned to Charmayne. “You never told me what you told Bishop Hudson about the damages to the car.”

Charmayne frowned. “What does that matter?”

“It matters a lot. Someone might have connected the damage to your car to the accident. That's basically what they are trying to do with Keith's accident last Thursday. Parts of the other car were left on the road and also left damages on Keith's car. Technology today is way more advanced than twenty years ago, but the damages on your car back then still had to be suspicious.”

Charmayne rubbed her hands through her hair, making it stand up like a punk rocker. “So, why wouldn't someone come forward back then if they suspected my car was in this accident?”

Lenora narrowed her eyes. “Don't you think it's odd that someone would threaten you after your father's death?”

“What are you saying?” Charmayne looked at her.

Lenora walked toward her friend. “I'm going to ask you again. What did you tell your dad about the car? I know you had it fixed by the time graduation came because you were driving the car.”

Charmayne's voice trailed off. “I don't remember. I said I hit something, but it was too dark to see.”

“Did you tell him where? You know these things have to be reported to insurance. What other details did you give?”

“Will you stop? I'm telling you the only two people who knew exactly what happened were you and me. When my dad took the car to get it fixed, I'm sure there was nothing to report other than his daughter was reckless with the car.”

“No. You're trying to make this some big secret between us, but it's not. Somebody has targeted me and possibly my family. How does this person, whoever they are, know that I was in the car with you? How do they have these details?” Lenora sighed deeply. “If you only had had the decency to stop and let us check out what happened that night.”

Charmayne snapped. “Me? You were always the Goody Two-shoes. Why didn't you go back if you felt so guilty? For crying out loud, the man didn't die. He spent a few days in the hospital, and as far as I know, he recovered. It was so long ago.”

Lenora dropped her hands to her side. “Because I felt this insane need to protect you. You were scared of your father, which I still don't get. We were out obviously doing something he wouldn't have approved of. Now someone thinks it is past due time we pay for our sins.”

Charmayne grabbed her bag. “I'm sorry for what happened. You may not believe that, but I am. I realized I acted as a child, and . . .” Charmayne's voice trailed off, and she held her head down.

In all the years she had known Charmayne, Lenora rarely saw this side of her. The mean, spoiled girl she called friend genuinely looked apologetic. But what struck Lenora even more to her core was the fear on Charmayne's face.

Charmayne lifted her head. “I'm sorry, Lenora. I will take care of it for both of us.” She opened the office door and closed it behind her.

The world tilted around Lenora. She leaned against her desk, conscious of her fingernails being pressed into the palm of her hand. The ten years after graduation when she had no contact with Charmayne had its trials, but not the kind of drama that came from being around Charmayne. Lenora's mother never liked Charmayne, even if she was a preacher's daughter.

Something ain't right about that girl.
Lenora could hear her mother's voice as if she was standing in the office. Her mother would've been so disappointed in her. Sure, the injured man had recovered, but that didn't make it any better because Lenora had gone on with her life, never stepping forward to let someone know what happened that night. She was just as bad as Charmayne.

Their whole friendship always seemed to be based on protecting Charmayne. The patterns were always there even after they befriended each other years ago to plan Charmayne's wedding that never happened. Lenora was pretty sure Bishop Hudson had something to do with why Charmayne cancelled her wedding plans. As a teenager, Lenora was afraid of him. When the man walked into a room, he could command attention from anyone with his six foot three stature and booming Barry White voice.

Charmayne feared her father, but her fear wasn't enough to quench the rebellious spirit. Even now as an adult, Charmayne was fighting to control the situation. What exactly was Charmayne planning to do?
Do we have a clue about who's doing this to us?

What puzzled Lenora was the length of time that had passed. Why after all this time did someone want them to pay? Lenora knew where she should start, but before she researched what happened to the injured man, she would need to decide how to confess her past transgressions. Confession was good for the soul, but should she tell Jonathan and her sons now or wait?

Someone knocked at her office door. “Yes?” Lenora called out.

Candace opened the door. “Hey, everything okay? The girls and I are set with the dresses.”

Lenora smiled and stuttered. “Good. I will be right there to confirm dates for everyone to pick up their dresses.” As her client and dear friend stood at the office doorway, Lenora realized she prided herself on making a couple's dreams come true. What if an event from years ago now turned her life and those around her into a nightmare?

Jonathan pulled his Mercedes into the garage. It was good to be home. He promised himself that tomorrow would be an even better day. He was grateful to be home with his family. He looked over at Lenora's Lexus. At least she was home. Jonathan knew as they got further into the wedding season and when Keith returned to UNC, it would become rare when the entire family was together.

Jonathan exited the car and popped his trunk to get his briefcase. He sprinted up the steps toward the side door that led into the kitchen. When he opened the door, his mother, Keith, and Michael were at the kitchen table. He caught sight of pizza boxes on the counter. “Is this dinner tonight?”

Michael was munching on a pepperoni slice. “Mom said order what we wanted for dinner.”

Keith had a slice in one hand and held up the other hand. “No complaints here.”

Jonathan looked over at his mother, knowing this was not her type of meal. “Mother, is this going to work for you, or do you need something else to eat?”

Eliza shook her head. “I'm fine, Jonathan. I'm just so happy to be with the boys. Now you need to check on your wife to see if she's all right. She came in here and threw her bag down. Seemed upset about something. She's upstairs.” Eliza looked over her reading glasses. “Did you do something?”

Keith and Michael stopped eating. Neither son looked at him directly, but Jonathan could tell both of his sons were quietly listening to the conversation.

He responded, “Be sure to save me a piece of pizza, guys. I'll check on your mother. She probably is just frustrated and tired.”

Jonathan wondered what could have set Lenora off. He knew she seemed overly upset about him considering a run for city council. Keith's accident had encouraged the paranoia that Lenora often displayed about her boys, especially when they were young.

Before heading upstairs, he opened his office. He considered his home office his sanctuary, where he prayed and prepared his sermons. Jonathan placed his briefcase on the desk and took a deep breath. He wanted to close the door and sink into his leather chair, or better yet, the leather couch he splurged on years ago, but instead, he decided it was wise not to delay the conversation with Lenora.

He sprinted upstairs and headed down the hallway to their master bedroom. Jonathan quietly opened the door and peeked inside. Lenora was curled up on her side of the bed under her favorite blanket. “Lenora, are you okay?”

She turned her face to him. Her eyes were visibly red, and her face was tearstained.

He rushed to her side and sat on the bed next to her. “What's wrong? Please tell me I'm not the culprit responsible for those tears. What do you need me to do?”

Lenora wrapped the blanket she had around her tighter. “This isn't about you.”

“Tell me what I can do. Are you not feeling well?”

She responded, “You can't fix everything, Jonathan.”

“Lenora—”

Lenora let out a long sigh and closed her eyes.

“Weren't you upset the other night about me keeping things from you? What's this?” He wanted to keep the anger out of his voice, but Lenora was guilty of shutting him out too.

Lenora wiped her face. “I'm sorry, and I feel like a hypocrite now, but I need to process some things alone.”

Jonathan frowned. “Alone?”

“Yes, I'm sure you understand.”

What can I say to that?
He didn't like that Lenora was choosing to deal with whatever was ailing her alone.

Something had been off with Lenora for some time, and Jonathan couldn't put his finger on when the communication in his marriage had started to go awry. There was no need to start an argument. He was too tired. “You know I'm here when you're ready to talk.”

She nodded and turned back over on her side.

Jonathan looked at her for a few minutes; then he left and closed the bedroom door behind him. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he almost collided with his mother. “Mother, what are you doing here in the dark?”

“I just wanted to check to see if Lenora was okay.”

Jonathan peered up the stairs. “She needs to rest.”

“Are you sure everything is all right between you?” Eliza questioned.

Jonathan went into the living room and sat down on the couch. He stretched his arms across the back of it. “All couples have struggles. I don't need to tell you that, Mother. Besides, how are you doing? It's been one week since we buried Dad.”

Eliza looked away from him. “I know. I miss Pastor Jeremiah.”

Jonathan observed his mother. Why did she always refer to her husband, his father, as Pastor Jeremiah? They'd been married for forty-four years, but he'd often felt the distance between his own parents. They were the perfect couple, but at home sometimes, he never saw either one of them speak to each other for what seemed like days.

Was that where his marriage was heading? Would he and Lenora last the next twenty years at this rate?

He focused on Eliza as she sat down on the love seat. She held on to her cane and looked at him. “I've been thinking maybe I should return home tomorrow. I don't want to be in anyone's way.”

“Mother, you are not in the way. Besides, the boys won't admit it, but they love having their grandmother around to dote on them.”

“I appreciate my grandsons. And you're a good son, Jonathan.”

It was always nice to be appreciated, even if it was just his mother. Right now, Jonathan wasn't feeling very confident about what was happening in his marriage. He got up and walked to his office. He closed the door behind him and plopped down on his office couch.

Whatever Lenora was going through, he would have to be patient. What was it he told Wes earlier today about his fiancée? Don't push.

He should have advised Wes a bit differently. There was a push they could do. Pray until something happens.

Jonathan slid down from the couch to his knees and began to pray about his marriage and his family.