Worth a Thousand Words (25 page)

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Authors: Stacy Adams

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BOOK: Worth a Thousand Words
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“I’m fine,” Indigo said. “Believe it or not, we went to dinner on the night of our dating anniversary and both of us were sitting there trying to figure out how to break up with the other person. Brian went first, and that hurt, but . . . we just couldn’t go on.

“I’ve been angry at him, and truthfully, I’m still upset about some things he should have shared with me a long time ago. But I’m working through that, and I’ll be okay.”

Rachelle nodded. “Yes, you will. Broken hearts do mend. The scars remain, but the healing will begin soon, and hopefully you can focus on the positive things Brian brought to your life. The most important gift he gave you was the freedom to find someone who will love you better than he could have.”

Indigo tried to smile. “I hope you’re right. But it’s hard.”

She twisted her head and looked up at Aunt Melba. “I’ve been meaning to ask if you remember what you were going to share with me the day you had your stroke. You had noticed some doubt when I got engaged, and you were going to offer some advice.”

Melba put a hand on her hip and smirked. “I lived with you for months and you never asked—now you expect me to pull that information from my memory bank?”

Indigo chuckled. “Sorry. I guess it doesn’t matter anyway, now that we’re not getting married.”

Aunt Melba resumed curling Indigo’s hair. “I think I was going to tell you not to compromise your happiness to make someone else happy. If your decision didn’t sit well with your soul, that was God telling you to wait. When it comes to major life decisions like marriage or your education or your career, if you sacrifice so deeply to please others, your needs stop mattering—to you and to them. You can lose the power of being you. I was worried that might happen when I saw you accept the proposal halfheartedly, just to avoid controversy.”

Indigo nodded. “You were right on the money, as usual. I guess there’s something to be thankful for, in all of this. And to be honest, if you had shared that advice with me back in May, I might have brushed it off. I wasn’t ready for it then.”

Rachelle leaned forward in her chair. “The most important thing you can do now, Indigo, is forgive yourself and forgive Brian. Whatever happened or didn’t happen between you two, give yourselves credit for doing the best you could at the time. Forgive and move on, or it will gnaw at your insides and keep you from receiving all of the beautiful things God has in store for you.”

“I’m trying,” Indigo said. “It’s hard, but I’m really trying.”

Her cell phone rang just as Aunt Melba grabbed an oversized mirror to show Indigo her hairstyle.

“Just a minute, Aunt Melba,” Indigo said. “It’s Nizhoni. Let me see if it’s urgent.”

Seconds later, she turned toward her aunt. “Nizhoni wants to know if she can come by to get her hair rebraided.” Indigo glanced at the clock. It was seven p.m. “Want me to tell her to come tomorrow?”

“If she comes right now, I’ll fit her in,” Aunt Melba said. “It shouldn’t take long.”

49

N
izhoni wasn’t her usual chipper self.

  She hugged Indigo, Rachelle, and Aunt Melba and thanked Melba for agreeing to take her on such short notice.

Aunt Melba surveyed her head. “That braid looks nice and neat to me; what are you tampering with it for? Because your hair needs to be washed?”

Nizhoni looked at Indigo, who understood immediately.

“Something happen today?”

“Brides Central isn’t doing well this quarter—too many brides going to Houston to pick out their gowns,” Nizhoni said. “I got laid off today. I need to get my hair rebraided to keep myself from fretting.”

Aunt Melba and Rachelle looked confused.

“What?” Melba said, her hand on her hip. “What does braiding have to do with losing your job?”

Rachelle closed the magazine she had been reading while Melba curled her hair.

Indigo explained about the Native American practice of braiding up one’s problems to tuck them away and how Yasmin had been braiding Nizhoni’s hair for a while now.

“Obviously, then, other things were troubling you before this layoff,” Aunt Melba said. She looked at Rachelle. “Mind if I get her started and come back to you?”

Rachelle shrugged. “No problem.”

Indigo smiled at Rachelle and Rachelle winked. Both of them knew Aunt Melba had something to share.

Carmen had left for the evening, so Melba led Nizhoni to the shampoo bowl and loosened the braid. She leaned Nizhoni’s head back and washed her flowing hair.

Nizhoni was silent for a while, but as Aunt Melba massaged her scalp, she visibly relaxed.

“Yeah, I got troubles.” She sighed. “When I first started coming here to get my hair braided, I was living in my car. I had just landed the job at the bridal shop, but things were really tight. My parents back in Oklahoma weren’t getting along and, in their tug-of-war with each other, couldn’t help me.

“Braiding the troubles up helped me push forward and go to work with a smile every day. I managed to get a nice apartment after I worked for a few months and even opened a bank account. I have some money saved and I’m hoping it will tide me over until I get another job.”

Nizhoni’s head still rested in the shampoo bowl, but she turned her eyes in Indigo’s direction. “They’re great people at the bridal shop and said I can come in occasionally to consult with clients who personally request me, so if Shelby needs my help with your . . . uh, her wedding dress, I’m happy to do it.”

Aunt Melba listened and slathered conditioner on Nizhoni’s hair.

“I’m so sorry, Nizhoni,” Indigo said. “All this time we’ve been building a friendship, I had no idea what you were going through.

If I had known, I would have helped.”

Aunt Melba sat Nizhoni upright and put a shower cap on her head so the conditioner could soak in for a few minutes.

“I wouldn’t have burdened you with that, Indigo,” Nizhoni said. “I decided before I moved to Jubilant that I was going to be a responsible adult, unlike some of the ones who ‘graced’ my life when I was growing up. I had to deal with the good and the bad on my own to prove to myself that I could make it. I made it through that rough patch, and I’ll make it through this one.”

Melba rinsed and blow-dryed Nizhoni’s hair with a deftness that Indigo viewed as a gift. It would have taken her hours to manage that much length. Indigo realized Nizhoni hadn’t been joking when she said she could sit on it.

Instead of parting it like Yasmin usually did, however, Aunt Melba grabbed her flatiron.

“What are you doing?” Nizhoni asked.

“You just sit back and trust Aunt Melba, okay?”

Nizhoni looked skeptical, but she didn’t argue.

Fifteen minutes later, Indigo was speechless. She had watched her friend be transformed from a subtly attractive woman to a beauty with tendrils and curls framing her face in all the right places.

“You look amazing,” said Rachelle, who sat transfixed as Aunt Melba worked.

But Nizhoni wasn’t happy. She was near tears.

“Thank you,” she said to Aunt Melba, “but you don’t understand. I need my braid. Can you please just braid it for me?”

Aunt Melba came around the chair to face Nizhoni and grasped her hands.

“Baby, you don’t need that braid to help you, you need God to walk with you,” she said softly. “I’ll braid it back up if you want me to. I want you to leave here comfortable. But I also want you to know that braid is serving as your anchor, as your safety, when the answers and the strength and the wisdom you have needed to succeed already lies within you. You just need to pray to tap into it. Pray and ask God to guide your heart and spirit and to help you bear your troubles. That’s the same thing as tucking them away—you just don’t have the visual reminder.”

Nizhoni bowed her head and removed her hands from Melba’s. She wouldn’t look in the mirror.

“I’m sure it’s beautiful,” she said, “but could you please braid it for me?”

Aunt Melba looked at her and patted her knee. “If that’s what you’d like, sweetheart, I’m happy to do it.”

Indigo and Rachelle looked on as Aunt Melba combed out the waves and curls and brushed Nizhoni’s hair back so she could braid it.

When she was done, Nizhoni seemed to exhale.

Aunt Melba handed her a mirror.

“Thank you,” she said and hugged Aunt Melba’s neck.

She quickly paid her and hugged Indigo and Rachelle goodbye. Before she reached the door, Aunt Melba called after her.

“Nizhoni, this place is not quite as fun as working in a bridal shop, but if you want, you can start here on Monday as my receptionist. Call me tomorrow and we can talk about compensation.” Nizhoni’s eyes widened. “I love this place, Melba. I would be honored.”

Aunt Melba smiled.

“So would I, baby. God sent you at the right time.”

50

B
rian felt like he was five years old again.

  He sat in the church in which he and Shelby had grown up, with Mom and Dad flanking him.

He would be leaving in two weeks for flight school, and Pastor Richardson wanted to have special prayer for him this morning and next Sunday. He was thankful; he needed it.

He hadn’t known how he would feel coming into this sanctuary after all that had gone on the past few weeks, but he realized as he joined in with singing the morning hymn that, just as the lyrics professed, he had “come this far by faith.”

He had been baptized here, received his Eagle Scout badge as part of the church Boy Scout troop, and even snuck his first kiss with a cute girl in his Vacation Bible School class. This place was part of him. It had helped shape him into the man he had become.

He looked to his left and smiled at Dad, who nudged him with his elbow, and then to his right and smiled at Mom, who patted his hand. That was the hazard of being an only child, he guessed. Once their baby, always their baby.

As Pastor Richardson prepared to deliver his sermon, Brian recalled the last time he had been in this church, right before he left for Officer Candidate School. What had been the beginning of a promising adventure, leading him to indeed become an officer, also had caused his life to change forever. He couldn’t have predicted that he would confront his past and alter his future over the course of the summer. He wondered this morning, if he had known the twists and turns he would take, would he still have gone?

But the past was the past. It was part of his truth and he had to live with it. His special time with God in Ms. Harrow’s backyard garden had helped him understand that and accept that God loved him no matter what.

He glanced at his parents again. Mom had already pledged her allegiance without knowing any details, but what would Dad say if he knew? Dad was a Navy man through and through. Could he handle this kind of truth?

Brian had come to realize that really, the only one who needed to handle it was him, and if he did, he’d be able to hold his head high.

What saddened him most was the pledge he had made to God that would keep his wonderful parents from ever having biological grandchildren. He wasn’t going to marry someone, start a family, and live a lie. Maybe he would adopt someday, but certainly not while he was jet-setting around the world with the Navy.

He also wasn’t going to live a life that displeased God, if he could help it.

Brian had been reading 2 Corinthians in recent weeks and studying how Paul struggled with a problem, a thorn in his side that caused him to fail and wrestle with his human weaknesses. Brian had concluded that he wasn’t any different. He had to wrestle with a temptation he didn’t want to yield to, so he could give his best to God.

A wife? Probably not. No children? An even harder reality to accept.

But the alternative right now seemed much worse. He could have been selfish and married Indigo, but in the end, he would have tainted her life and damaged his soul.

Brian shook himself back into the present and realized he had missed most of the sermon. He hoped God would appreciate that his heart and spirit were vested in this worship service.

Shelby wasn’t here this morning, but her parents were, and when he looked their way, they acknowledged him with a pride that was as joyful as if he were their son.

The members of Grace Temple loved him, and that was gratifying. Shelby loved him too; she had told him so. Their friendship was solid.

Indigo? He didn’t blame her for not returning his calls or responding to his emails. He would have to live with that and keep forgiving himself for hurting her until he was at peace.

But today, he felt good about embracing his truth, and he trusted that because he was being obedient, God would not allow him to wallow in sadness and loneliness for the rest of his days. Single men and women across this land thrived and had full lives. He would learn how to be one of them.

51

I
ndigo was glad Shelby hadn’t insisted they go to church.

  She couldn’t have sat in the same sanctuary as Brian without turning into a sobbing mess.

Instead, the two of them had played hooky this morning and were sitting in front of the computer, viewing screen after screen of bridesmaid dresses.

Shelby repositioned herself in the leather chair and leaned her head back. She closed her eyes and sighed. “You know what? I want to marry Hunt, but I don’t want to do this.”

Indigo scooted her folding chair closer and poked Shelby’s shoulder. “Stop being a wimp, Shel. You’ve described your dream wedding to me a thousand times. Now that your groom is going to be a few shades lighter than you had imagined, you feel the need to change everything?” She sat back and folded her arms. “Wish I had your problems.”

Shelby opened her eyes and looked toward her friend. Indigo recognized the pity that filled them. Every little bit of compassion helped as Indigo still struggled to forgive her.

“This is really selfish of me, isn’t it?” Shelby said. “I asked you to come up and spend the weekend with me and here we are looking at wedding stuff when you’re still nursing a broken heart.”

Indigo shook her head. She had to man up and quit wearing her sadness on her sleeve.

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