When Rain Falls (17 page)

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Authors: Tyora M. Moody

BOOK: When Rain Falls
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“Look at me. You can't just tuck the past away and forget it. Sometimes you have to acknowledge it, or it will eat you alive.”
Candace turned her head; tears flowed down her face. She wiped the tears from her face with her sleeves. She felt like the little girl in the back of the police car, waiting for them to bring her mama out.
She never saw her mama again. Not alive.
“Candace, I need to tell you something.” This time not only did Maggie take off the warped hat, but she removed the wig. She ran her hand across the top of her head, where slight wisps of hair sprang up.
Candace sucked in air. “Oh, Maggie.”
“Breast cancer. Back for a second time. This time I'm not fighting. I'm more at peace.”
“Why didn't you tell me before now? You're the only family left. You have to fight it.”
“I don't have the will. Now, that's not true about family. You have your children.” Maggie squeezed the wig in her hands. “I sold the house because I needed the money to get things in order. I came down to Charlotte to be closer to you and the children. I wanted to come sooner, but then I heard about your friend, and I'm ashamed of the way I left the last time. I remembered the look on your face, the pain I caused once again.”
Maggie twisted the wig tighter and tighter in her hands. “I realize that now is not the time for me to be showing up, when you are in a world of hurt.”
Tears slid down her aunt's face. Candace moaned, then reached over and grabbed a napkin, stuffing it in her aunt's hands.
“When your mama died, I was so mad. You know, when she took you away, I knew in my heart I drove her to go live with that man. I had all my scriptures and my rules. I was more of a religious dictator to her than a sister. She wanted to be loved, and I didn't know how. Nobody showed me how.”
“Maggie, it's okay.”
“No, I had you and your mama staying with me. If I had not pushed her, she would be alive today.”
“It doesn't matter anymore. Just like you just told me, there's nothing you could have done. You couldn't protect her from her own choices, either.”
Maggie slapped the table. “Well, that was spoken like a wise woman. I am proud of you. I'm not here to stir up mess, really, I'm not. I wanted you to know I've grown closer to the Lord since my illness. I have a real relationship with Him. There's a lot of amends I need to make.”
Candace shook her head.
“No, don't disagree. Do you believe people can change?”
“Of course. We can't do it on our own.”
“You're right about that. We need God's help. 'Cause when we get in the way, we tend to mess things up. Healing starts with forgiveness, though. Even when we don't think the other person deserves it.”
She knew who her aunt was referring to, but Candace had long put the man who killed her mother out of her mind. She knew he passed away behind bars years ago, and he could no longer bother her.
Still, issues remained unresolved, building another layer of resentment in her being.
God help me.
She needed to know who killed her husband and best friend.
Chapter Thirty-three
My bedroom.
After two years she still wasn't used to saying that.
The ceiling fan quietly churned out a comfortable breeze. Candace observed the sun making its daily ascent as sunlight sneaked through the blinds. Thankful for the mild Southern fall, she slept under her favorite bedding, a childhood quilt. Her aunt had created the quilt using several of Candace's childhood dresses. The cloth scrapbook of Easter dresses blended perfectly with the traditional pinewood furniture in the bedroom.
Until she left Maggie's home, church services every Sunday were required. She'd tried to keep the tradition going after marrying Frank. When Rachel and Daniel were toddlers, she grew tired of dragging them to church. It didn't help that Frank was always working a case. After a while, they attended only a few Sundays a year.
That didn't sit too well with Maggie when she came to visit many years ago. After that visit, Candace pretty much felt like a heathen in her aunt's eyes.
You're just like her.
Those unkind words in reference to Candace's deceased mother kept Candace and Maggie apart for years.
After Maggie's visit the night before, Candace realized that the last time she'd walked in Victory Gospel, it was to memorialize her oldest friend.
Today she expected to meet the Lord at church. She hadn't always agreed with her aunt's holier-than-thou methods, but Candace remembered her acceptance of Christ in her life at a young age. Her faith, though shaky at times, had remained her foundation.
She flipped to the opposite side of the bed to greet the eight-by-ten photo on the nightstand. For several months she couldn't look at the photograph without being consumed by a gush of tears. Despite having a queen-sized bed, she still slept on her side of the bed, remembering being tickled. Kissed. Held. She longed to melt under the covers as those big brown eyes stared back at her. As she stared at the photo for the hundredth time, she noted again how well the police uniform hugged his broad shoulders.
“I wish I knew what happened to you, Frank.” A familiar verse drifted into her mind.
I will never leave you nor forsake you.
She remained still. This wasn't the first time she'd heard this voice in the past few days. The voice wasn't loud or condescending, but soft and strong all at the same time. A tear formed in the corner of her right eye. It slid down the side of her face, wetting the pillow—his pillow. She didn't have the security of Frank's arms anymore. Now even Pamela was no longer around to talk to at all hours of the night. But God's presence had been her saving grace through the lonely days and nights.
She sought God in prayer, but conversations and questions from the past few days, since Pamela's death, crowded out her pleas to God.
Is this how people know when they are on the verge of cracking up?
If she pulled the covers over her head and just lay there, maybe she could forget it all. Wake up and the whole world would look better. She simply couldn't deal with anything else.
As fast as she pulled the covers over her head, she yanked them down and sat straight up.
No.
They were going to church today.
She jumped out of the bed and pulled the walk-in closet doors open. Nothing had changed. Frank's clothes greeted her. She'd tried to take some of his items to the Salvation Army, but they held his smell. His presence in their bedroom. Now only hers. She moved to the side of the closet where her clothes hung. No time for ironing, she laid a long skirt and striped blouse across the bed.
The hot steam from the shower felt wonderfully soothing as she lathered up with a new coconut and shea butter body wash. For an extra kick, she reached up to adjust the showerhead to massage. The water flowed down her back steady and strong. She cut the water off and stepped from the shower. Her face appeared when she wiped the steam off from the mirror. For a few moments, Candace examined her face. No matter what she did, her eyes remained wary.
Like my mama's
.
Cast your burdens upon me. I care for you.
 
About two hours later she flowed with the rest of Charlotte's traffic along I-77. Rachel sulked in the front passenger seat, and Daniel toyed around with something in the backseat. Both of them hadn't been thrilled about getting up this morning.
Candace looked in the rearview mirror. “Daniel, remember to leave that Game Boy in the car.”
“I know, Mom.”
She peeked at Rachel. “What are you so glum about, young lady? You get to see your
friend
Keith this morning.”
“Mom.”
Candace saw a glimpse of a smile.
At least the child got excited about something.
We're going to have to do better than this
.
Train up a child in the way they should go, they will not depart from their training.
She wasn't sure where it could be found in the Bible, but prayerfully she could get her family back on track. Seemed like all those Bible verses Maggie made her learn were coming back. It really was like God was talking to her. Deep in her spirit.
As they entered through the sanctuary doors, the choir could be heard over the sound system.
“Good morning. Welcome to Victory Gospel this morning. Follow me.” An exuberant older woman passed out programs to each of them. Dressed in a black coatdress and plain shoes, she led Candace and her family down the aisle.
From every possible direction, people swayed and clapped. Candace spotted Beulah, with her hands lifted up high. Her platinum blond Afro shone under the lights as she bopped her head along to the praise song. Despite the men and women around her, Beulah was in her own world of praise and worship.
“Excuse me. Sorry. Excuse me.” Candace tried not to step on anyone's toes as she made her way down the pew with the finesse of a tightrope walker. Beulah had a knack for being in the center, this time in the center of the pew. “Oh, I'm so sorry.” The man held up his hand and smiled, but Candace knew her two-inch heel had done some damage to his foot. She tapped Beulah lightly on the shoulder.
“Oh, Candy. Hallelujah. It's so good to see you at service this morning,” Beulah squealed.
As her dear friend squeezed her, Candace scolded herself for wrestling with missing another Sunday. At that very moment it was worth it.
No different from any other Sunday she had attended, members of Victory exploded with praise all around her. Folks who chose to sit minutes ago could no longer hold back their praise. No one cared about the time as they clapped and swayed with the choir. Those around Candace melted into her peripheral vision as she joined in the praise.
Lenora Freeman, the minister of worship, slowed the tempo down by stepping out in front of the praise team. “God is so good, Church. Anyone out there agree with me? Raise your hands all over this place. Lift your hands to heaven. Tell the Father, ‘I love you.'”
Hands rose all over the sanctuary as heads lifted back to shout to the Lord.
“Hallelujah! Church, before we get ready for the pastor to come, I want to end this praise session with a song of worship. Everyone's familiar with this song. The words are simple. And, Church, we should not wait until Sunday morning to say them. We should be able to say ‘Thank you, Jesus' seven days a week.”
Shouts of praise resounded all over the sanctuary.
“We should be able to express our gratitude anytime or anywhere.” Lenora turned toward the choir and then back to the congregation. “Anyone not standing, won't you please stand to your feet? Stand, if you can. Come on! Come on and praise him.”
Candace closed her eyes and lifted her hands and chanted, “Thank you, Jesus, thank you, Jesus ...” The invisible weight lifted from her shoulders. Her body shook as tears flowed down her face.
Oh, Lord, thank you
.
This was what she'd longed for, to be in God's presence. It had been a long time. Too long.
Chapter Thirty-four
The sermon was a balm for her thoughts and emotions. Despite the benediction and people moving around on the pews about her, Candace could have sat there a little longer. Beulah tapped her on the shoulder. “Girl, come on. Your kids took off already. We should have followed them, because it's going to take a while to get out of here now.”
She was right. Neither Rachel nor Daniel was in sight. She was pretty sure who Rachel had gone to talk to. Maybe Daniel would remain close, doing what little brothers did best—protect and pester. Candace wasn't worried. She had the keys to the Explorer.
Beulah said, “I hope you and the kids can come over this afternoon. I've prepared a good old-fashioned Sunday dinner, which includes greens and corn bread.”
Candace's stomach started talking to her. “Now, Beulah, how am I, the noncooking mom, going to turn that down? I know Daniel, and probably Rachel, would really like some good cooking.”
“That's what I want to hear. Now, y'all make sure to come hungry. I'm going to start serving at four o'clock.”
“Sounds good.”
Both women made it through the doors and out into the blazing early afternoon sun. Despite the colorful foliage around the church, it was too warm for jackets.
Beulah stopped. “That looks like Darnell up there.”
Candace turned in the direction where Beulah pointed. She frowned.
“Come on, Let's catch up with him.” Beulah hooked her arm inside of Candace's and pulled her along.
She didn't know whether to be horrified or to giggle over Beulah's behavior. “Um, excuse me, but where is your husband? I'm sure he won't appreciate you chasing down a younger man.”
“Girl, that boy's my nephew.”
Candace started coughing. “What?” Why didn't she know this before? Her mouth dropped open as she watched Beulah reach up to hug the man who Candace had conversed with all last week about a murder investigation. Not to mention they'd almost killed each other at Pamela's house.
“How's my favorite nephew?” Beulah purred.
“Favorite? Woman, I'm your only nephew.” Darnell's eyes gleamed as he embraced his aunt. Candace shook her head in disbelief. She should have sensed these two were related. There was something wildly mischievous about Darnell. If he wasn't talking to her about serious stuff, she imagined he must be a real hoot to be around.
He turned his piercing brown eyes toward her. “Good to see you here today, Mrs. Johnson.”
“Hello, Detective.”
Beulah piped up. “Speaking of seeing folks, I expect to see you soon.” She smacked Darnell on the arm.
“Ouch, woman. No need to be brutal.” Darnell rubbed his arm but kept that mischievous smile on his face. “Momma must be looking down now, talking about, ‘Good one, Beulah.'”
Beulah cackled. “You know that's right, because you're still a handful. I will talk to both of you later.” The older woman blinked. “My sugar daddy is over there, waiting on his queen.”
Candace watched Beulah dash over to her husband, Harold, who already had the Cadillac pulled up to the curb and the passenger door open for his wife. She turned to the detective.
Those big brown eyes homed in on her face. With one eyebrow raised, he said, “I hope you and I are on good terms. You seemed a little upset when you left Pamela's house yesterday. I know that couldn't have been easy.”
Her cheeks grew warm from his stare. She'd hoped he wouldn't bring that up. “Look, I'm sorry. I trust you to do your job. Really, that box has some mementos that I know were dear to her. Honestly, I haven't had the courage to go through it yet.”
“Not a problem. I understand. I just want you to trust me. I do promise to find justice for your friend.” He reached his hand out. “Shake on it.”
Now her cheeks burned. Where was all this coming from? He really didn't have to do all that. She shook his hand, noticing how his large hand swallowed hers. She looked up at him, estimating he was the same height as Frank.
“You take care of yourself, Candy.” He flashed his pearly whites.
She walked toward the car. Then it hit her. He'd called her Candy. Well, he had some nerve. He must have assumed that because Beulah called her that all the time, he could call her that, too. His aunt was the only person Candace let get away with using that nickname. She needed to put him in his place.
She stopped and turned around. Darnell stood in the same spot. Oh my goodness, he was watching her walk away. She threw her hand up in a wave.
Okay, now I feel really stupid.
That was straight out of a scene in a movie. The movie she and Pamela had watched all the time.
Waiting to Exhale
and the memorable scene with Loretta Devine and Gregory Hines. It might be a good idea to do a head check, because she wanted to break out into a giggle.
Candace was grateful to see Rachel and Daniel leaning against the car.
“Mom, what's wrong with you?”
Candace clicked the locks on the doors and looked at her daughter. “What?”
“Why are you grinning like that?”
Daniel jumped in the backseat. “Mom must have had a real good time in church today. Does that mean you're going to cook us a Sunday meal like you used to?”
“I'm not, but we will be joining Miss Beulah for dinner this afternoon,” Candace responded. She cranked up the car. Church was good today and was exactly what she needed. Still, that wasn't what had her smiling.

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