eighteen
THEY SAT TIGHT IN THE BOOTH TUESDAY NIGHT, DANA, Phyllis, and Cyd on one side, Stephanie and Kelli on the other. Cyd didn’t know how the arrangement worked itself that way, but she was sure it had the effect Dana wanted. She could practically ignore Cyd from her position.
So far there’d been light banter about the Maggiano’s menu, but with orders placed and the server gone, they were set to focus on one another and the news Kelli waited to share.
“Quick housekeeping question,” Phyllis said. “Last couple of DF gatherings have been over a meal, which is great, but when’s our next real meeting? I miss the Bible study.”
“You’re right,” Cyd said. “We’ve gotten off track. I miss it too.”
Dana lifted her water glass. “I figured you didn’t have time for two Bible studies, so DF was on hold.”
Cyd glanced over at her. “I always have time for DF. We should plan the next meeting before we leave.”
“Great,” Phyllis said. “Okay, I cannot wait another second. What’s the news?”
Kelli sat up, looking into their faces. “I told Brian I’d work with him on his new album, helping to write as well as singing.”
Phyllis stared. “You just said that so calmly, like it’s no big deal. You’re going to be on the next Alien album?” Phyllis practically screamed it, albeit with an inside voice. “Cole will absolutely flip.”
“Kelli, this is way bigger than the Monica opportunity,” Dana said. “Talk about answered prayer. And I’m so excited you’ll be singing. I love your voice.”
“Thank you, but like I told Brian, I’ve got a lot of reservations. If it looks like we can’t work together, I’m bowing out.”
“Wait . . .” Phyllis frowned as she broke off a piece of bread. “A little over a week ago you couldn’t stand to look at Brian. How did things change?”
“Well . . .” Kelli was obviously measuring her response. “I was upset with him about something in the past, but a series of circumstances made me see he deserved forgiveness like everybody else.”
Cyd wanted badly to look over at Dana to see if she might have made a hint of a connection, but she kept her eyes on Kelli, who continued.
“Around that same time, Brian heard ‘I Will Love You’ and wanted to do a remake. He asked me about it, and we recorded it that same night.”
Phyllis’s mouth dropped. “You already recorded a song? I know it’s fabulous.”
“It’s still weird for me,” Kelli said, “hearing my recorded voice. But I guess it turned out okay.”
Stephanie gave Kelli her familiar look. “I don’t know what she’s talking about—‘I guess it turned out okay.’ The song is blazin’.”
“You’ve heard it?” Dana asked.
Stephanie glanced at Cyd and Kelli. “Was I not supposed to say anything?”
“It’s fine,” Kelli said. She looked at Dana and Phyllis. “Brian and I played it for them on Sunday. We’re not sure when we’ll let others hear it. There’s a lot of story behind it that we haven’t shared openly yet.”
Dana nodded. “I understand. Makes perfect sense to let family hear it first.”
Cyd concerned herself with her water glass.
“Did Heather hear it too?” Dana asked.
Eyes went wide around the table.
“Now, why would you ask that, Dana?” Phyllis asked. “I was hoping we could stay off the subject of Heather tonight.”
“I’m asking because we drove by Cyd’s house after church so Scott could drop off some stuff he needed to give Cedric. When he didn’t stop, I asked why, and he said that was Heather’s car out front. I figured Cyd must’ve asked her to spend the night after they went to dinner. Maybe she’s part of the family now.”
“Okay, ladies, we’ve got your yummy entrées.”
Cyd stared at hers when the server set it down. She always got the same thing—baked ziti with sausage—and it looked delicious. But she thought she’d be sick.
“Enjoy, ladies!” Their server left them in their silence.
“Shall we pray?” Phyllis asked. When no one replied, she began, “Heavenly Father, we thank You for this food and pray it nourishes our bodies. And we thank You for Daughters’ Fellowship. You’ve been so faithful to us, and we’re looking to Your faithfulness again. Protect us, Lord, from the enemy’s attempts to divide. Bring peace where he seeks to bring strife. May Your joy be our strength. In Jesus’ name.”
“Amen,” Cyd whispered.
Forks clanged as the women tried to busy themselves with their meal—every woman but one.
Cyd could feel Dana’s eyes on her.
“Wow,” Dana said. “No one answered, which means Heather really did hear the song.” She shook her head. “So, Daughters’ Fellowship prayed for God to open doors for Kelli’s music, and when He opens the door, she gets to hear it before we do. I find that interesting.”
Cyd looked to the other end of the booth. “Dana, you don’t know the whole story. Trust me.” She wished she could explain the bond between Kelli and Heather, but that wasn’t for her to reveal.
“I guess I don’t. But let’s see what I do know. You met with the girl on Saturday, took her to dinner afterward”—she ticked the events off on her fingers—“and hung out with her at your house on Sunday. Maybe I should just leave, and y’all can start a new Daughters’ group with Heather.” A tear fell from her eye. Dana dug in her purse and tossed a twenty-dollar bill on the table.
“You’re not really leaving, are you?” Cyd asked.
Dana got up and walked away.
“Excuse me, Phyl.”
Phyllis slid out of the booth so Cyd could get out. She caught up to Dana by the bar. “We need to talk outside.”
They left the restaurant and walked down the sidewalk, away from the people dining outdoors, Cyd praying every step.
Lord, I don’t even know what to say. Please help me.
When they had some privacy, Cyd stopped and turned. “Dana,” she said, “please don’t blow this out of proportion. You’re making way too much of this.”
“Really? She nearly took my husband from me, and now she’s getting between me and my best friend.”
“Dana, that’s nonsense . . . I’ll always be your best friend. You’ve been stuck with me for nearly thirty years and you’ve got at least another thirty to go. I understand you’re hurt, but—”
“No, you don’t understand, Cyd.” Dana ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. “From the moment her name came up, it was like the scab was ripped off and I started bleeding again. The images of her and Scott are even starting to come back. I need her to move to another universe. I don’t want to see her. I don’t want to hear about her.” She gave a flippant laugh. “But instead, she’s hanging out at your house!”
“It’s not like that, Dana.”
“Actually, it is. The reality is that Heather’s world and my world have bumped up against one another—again—and my sanity can’t take it.”
Cyd waited a few beats. “I know I mentioned this before, but . . . have you ever considered . . . forgiving Heather?”
“Can’t say I have, no. Why? Thinking about a Kumbaya party at your house for her and me?”
“It’s not about you and her,” Cyd said. “It’s about you. Forgiveness would go a long way toward your own peace.”
“I had peace, Cyd, when she was out of the picture.”
“I’m not talking about that kind of peace. I’m talking about a real inner peace.”
“Well, pray for me, because I’m not feeling it right now.” She turned to leave. “I just need some time. And space.”
CYD ENTERED HER BEDROOM AND COLLAPSED FLAT ON the bed.
“How’d it go, babe?” Cedric lay next to her, watching ESPN highlights.
“Terrible.”
He lifted his head and looked at her. “What happened?”
“Dana and Scott rode past here on Sunday to give you something and saw Heather’s car parked out front. In her mind, Heather’s become part of the family.”
“Ah, makes sense now.” Cedric clicked off the TV and turned on his side toward her. “Scott called today about getting me a draft of the promotional materials. We talked about the choices theme, and he said we need to make sure guys understand that bad choices can reap bad consequences for a long time. When you think it’s over, it comes roaring back at you. I bet he’s dealing with a lot at home right now.”
“All because of me. I hate this. I wish I hadn’t gone to that songwriters’ conference, then I wouldn’t be in the middle of this.”
“Maybe. No point in second-guessing. I thought you said your time with Heather and Kelli was incredible.”
“That’s just it. When I focus on Heather, my heart is so sure that I’m supposed to be in her life. But when I focus on Dana, my heart breaks, knowing how it makes her feel.”
“Babe.” He caressed her face. “Keep focusing on God. You felt He was leading you to do this, so you’ve got to trust He’ll work it out. Right?”
“I know.” She stared off to the side. “But things are only going to get worse.” She couldn’t hold back tears. “Why now?”
Cedric took her into his arms. “Did you get a chance to tell them?”
“No. Dana left before we’d even eaten. I didn’t feel like sharing the news without her.” She sniffed into his chest. “Such a huge moment in my life. I’m going to have a baby, and Dana doesn’t know about it?”
“Sweetheart, we only found out yesterday.”
“Still.”
He rubbed her back. “I still can’t believe it.”
“Me either.” Thoughts of the baby lifted her mood. She looked up at him and kissed him. “You and I, having a baby. It’s the most exhilarating feeling.”
“Uh,” he said. “Secondmost for me.”
She frowned at him. “What’s the first?”
“Marrying you. I’m still amazed that God actually gave me you as a wife.”
“You’re making me cry again. And I’m not even a big crier.” She sat up suddenly. “I wonder if it’s a hormone thing. Oh, joy. I’ll be a big fat crybaby now.” She sank down again.
“Least you’ll be a beautiful big fat crybaby.”
She cut her eyes up at him, then snuggled close. “Feeling’s mutual, by the way. I’m still amazed God gave me you. And I’m amazed you’re still giving me roses.” She gazed beyond him to the nightstand, at the dozen fresh golden roses he’d brought home after work.
“You didn’t think it would stop, did you?”
Cedric had given her roses from the first weekend they met through to their wedding day—each time a different color with a special meaning. She thought a moment. “I guess I just didn’t expect it.”
“Good. I like surprising you. But I’m running out of colors. Might have to recycle some old ones.”
Cyd smiled. “You’ll come up with something, and it’ll be perfect. I never even knew there was such a thing as gold roses, let alone that they symbolized a joyous occasion.”
“I had to mark this occasion somehow. The two of us becoming first-time parents in our forties? It’s wild and wonderful and—”
“Scary.”
Cedric sat up on an elbow. “What do you mean?”
“All the stories you hear about high-risk pregnancies. What if there are complications with my health? Or the baby’s?”
“Sweetheart, it’s not like you to worry.”
“But what if something goes wrong with the pregnancy? I’m almost forty-one. I might not get another chance. What if—”
He planted a kiss. “What if we just trust God—with the baby and the pregnancy, with Dana, with everything?”
Sounded like advice she’d given someone else. But with life pressing in as it was, in ways she’d never before experienced, the dial seemed stuck on worry. “So you’re saying it’s not a good thing to drive myself crazy imagining the worst?”
“Not for you or the baby.”
She sighed. “Guess there’s nothing I can do to control any of it anyway.”
He smiled at her. “There’s one part you can control.”
She tossed her eyes. “I know. I can trust.” She ran her hand slowly across her belly. If only it were as easy as flipping that dial.