The Color of Hope

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Saturday, August 14





Libby took the exit off the New Jersey Turnpike that led to Neptune, relieved the journey was almost at an end. She wasn’t good at driving long distances alone, and after eight hours, she’d run through her keep-awake stash of Starbursts, gum, pretzels, and popcorn. Right now a supply of CDs playing extra loud was keeping her alert—that plus a surge of excitement when she thought of the visit that awaited her.

She glanced at the directions on the console. Keep right, merge onto another toll road for a few miles. After that she was good as there.

It still boggled her mind that Aunt Gwynn had even invited her. She’d been such an enigma for so long that there was no expectation of even a Christmas card, certainly not a relationship. Not that this visit meant they’d now have a relationship. But who knew? Libby had no idea what to expect. She just felt she had to come.

She merged onto the toll road, stopping at the booth. It had been years since she’d come to New Jersey as a girl with her parents, but for some reason she remembered the tolls. She’d bagged up all the loose coins she could find around her apartment for the trip.

Her cell phone rang and she glanced at it, ready to ignore it if it was Janelle. She’d called once today already, following at least two voice mails during the week. It’s not that Libby was avoiding her cousin. She was simply in a weird space. She’d been feeling alone when contact with Travis and Omar was cut off. But now it was as if she needed to be alone, needed time to think, time to assess her life.

Libby smiled when she saw it was Keisha.

“I’m almost there,” Libby said. “My directions haven’t let me down yet.”

“Yay!” Keisha said. “We’re all at Mom’s, excited to see you. Holler if you run into any problems.”

Libby knew her parents, Janelle, and everyone else would be shocked to know where she was. But even this she wanted to keep to herself for now.

The remaining miles passed quickly. Libby made her final turn and pulled up to the house on the corner. That was what she remembered most, that it was on the corner. Looked smaller—because she was bigger—and quaint, with pretty flower beds and nice, manicured shrubbery.

She got out and stretched, enjoying the cooler breeze here up north, taking in the surroundings. Keisha and her family lived on the same block, but she wasn’t sure which house.

Libby heard voices and looked in the direction of the house. The whole gang was coming toward her—Aunt Gwynn, Greataunt Floretta, Keisha, and her husband and son.

Libby left her things in the car and went to greet them. It shouldn’t have thrown her to see Aunt Gwynn with an easy smile, but it did. Months before in Hope Springs, she’d looked so pained and uncomfortable, her jaw firmly set.

“Welcome to Neptune.” Youngest of her siblings, Aunt Gwynn was in her fifties but looked like she kept herself in shape. She hugged Libby and stepped back, looking her in the eye. “I’m so glad you came.”

“Me too,” Libby said. “I’m really glad to be here.”

Libby walked a few feet to meet Aunt Floretta, who was lagging behind the rest. Grandma Geri’s little sister was in her early eighties now. It had felt good to see the two of them visit with each other at Grandma Geri’s birthday party.

“Aunt Floretta, it’s good to see you again.” Libby hugged her.

“Third time this year,” Aunt Floretta said, counting the funeral. “It’s really something, isn’t it?” She winked at her. “I’d say God is up to something.”

“I’ll say amen to that,” Keisha said. “Give me a hug, cousin.”

Libby was struck once again by how much Keisha’s facial features reminded her of Todd—the eyes and eyebrows, in particular. Her café au lait skin was a definite blend of her parents, her hair dark, wavy, and layered short like her mom’s.

Keisha turned to her husband next. “You remember Wayne from the funeral . . .”

“Absolutely. Nice to see you again.” Libby smiled as they exchanged a quick hug, then focused on the boy in his arms. “And I definitely remember this little cutie pie.” She held out her hands. “Can I have a hug, Jason?”

He turned into his father’s chest.

“Jason, I thought you were a big boy,” Keisha said. “You told me you were almost four and old enough to go on that ride down on the boardwalk. But if you can’t hug your cousin, I don’t know . . .”

He reached out his arms and wrapped them around Libby’s neck, and she laughed, bear-hugging him back. “Thank you, little sweetie,” she said.

The women and Jason headed to the house while Wayne got Libby’s things from the car. Soon as they walked inside, she smelled a feast in the making. “Okay, who’s the cook around here?”

“Used to be me and Gwynn.” Aunt Floretta headed for a seat at the kitchen table. “But my knees hurt so bad she does the lion’s share now.”

“Mom doesn’t mind.” Keisha helped Jason to a banana he was reaching for. “She’s always cooking up something.”

“I guess some things run in the family,” Libby said. “You’re just like your sisters, Aunt Gwynn.” She added, “But for some reason the cooking gene skipped me.”

“You too?” Keisha said. “I can make a few things, but thankfully, Wayne’s our resident gourmet.”

Aunt Gwynn was checking something in the oven. “I’m more than willing to hold a cooking clinic this evening,” she said, amusement in her voice. “You girls aren’t too old to learn.”

Libby sat down at the table. “Aunt Gwynn, my mother has tried every kind of clinic and gifted every kind of cookbook. It’s hopeless.”

“Maybe you just haven’t had the right motivation.”

“Hmm.” Keisha wagged her eyebrows at Libby. “I think there was some hidden meaning in there.”

Libby crossed her legs. “And I’m letting it stay hidden.”

They all laughed.

“Libby, there’re a couple of trays on the table with things to nibble on till dinner,” Aunt Gwynn said. “What can I get you to drink?”

“Water will be great.”

Wayne stepped into the kitchen doorway. “I put Libby’s bag in the guest room,” he said. “No offense, but I think I’ll let you ladies have your time alone to chat. I hear ESPN calling me.”

Jason ran to his side and announced, “I’m going with Daddy.”

Keisha stood with her arms slumped, looking dejected. “Okay.” Then she winked at him. “You’ll be back when dinner’s ready?”

Jason nodded. “Yep.”

“Aww.” Libby watched them walk off hand in hand. “That’s so cute. Says a lot about Wayne.”

“He’s a great dad,” Keisha said, making herself comfortable at the table. “By the way,” she said, “I got a chance to watch the family reunion DVD you sent Mom. Made me wish I’d come this year.”

Libby tossed her a look. “How many texts did I send to try to convince you?”

“I know, I know. I admit I was thinking about myself and not wanting to deal with all the questions.” She grabbed a raw carrot from a vegetable tray. “But when I saw all the kids on the video, I thought of Jason. He met some of his little cousins at Grandma Geri’s funeral, and it’d be nice if he could get to know them and grow up with them.”

Aunt Gwynn joined them. “I thought about that when I watched the video too,” she said. “Not about Jason, but about you, Keesh. You could’ve been running around with Libby and Janelle at the reunions when you were younger.” Her eyes showed a measure of regret. “I guess I was trying to exact my own personal revenge—wanting Momma to hurt as much as she hurt me.”

“And what have I always told you?” Aunt Floretta was calm but assertive. “She wasn’t trying to hurt you. I’m not saying she was right, but she was trying to protect you. I think you forget how crazy the times were down there back then.”

“That reminds me.” Libby dug in her purse. “I thought you might want to see this.” She pulled out the newspaper clipping about the churches and passed it to Aunt Gwynn.

Aunt Gwynn put on her reading glasses to examine it. When she’d finished reading, she sat back but didn’t speak for several seconds.

“I can’t believe how my heart is racing from reading that,” she said finally. “Took me back.” She passed the clipping to Keisha.

“How so, Mom?”

“That name—Skip Willoughby.”

Libby was surprised. “You know him?” Libby added, “I mean, everybody knows just about everybody in Hope Springs, but the way you said it . . . I’m curious because his granddaughter was hanging with us at the reunion.”

Aunt Gwynn looked as if she must’ve heard her wrong. “Skip Willoughby’s granddaughter was at the Sanders family reunion?”

“Okay, Mom, what’s up?”

“If it weren’t for that man and his father, I really believe Jim and I might’ve had a chance.” Aunt Gwynn’s gaze moved back in time. “Our parents knew I was pregnant, and they were trying to figure out what to do. They said it would never work for us to be together. But Jim and I kept saying we loved each other and wanted to be together. It seemed like they were listening to us, at least a little . . . enough to give us hope, anyway.”

Libby was riveted. She wished Todd were here to hear more of what his dad was going through at that time.

“And what happened, Mom?” Keisha said.

“What happened was Skip Willoughby drove up to Jim’s house.” Aunt Gwynn’s tone changed just thinking about it. “Now keep in mind, Jim’s dad, Jerry, was pastor of Calvary at the time. And Skip was an elder even then. A lot younger, but because of his dad, he had power in town.”

“The article says he was outspoken against school integration. Do you remember that?”

“Aunt Floretta is right. Those were crazy times.” Aunt Gwynn shook her head. “They shut down the all-black high schools right before I was supposed to go. And there was all this drama surrounding the new high school that was opening for all students. Whenever we heard about opposition to it, the Willoughby name was in the mix—either Skip’s or his father’s. They were very vocal, some said even intimidating.” She uttered an empty laugh. “Yeah, I’d say that article is right.”

“All right,” Aunt Floretta said. “I’m back at Jim’s house when Skip drove up. I never heard this before. What happened?”

“Jim and I saw him drive up, and we just had a feeling it had to do with us.” Aunt Gwynn took a sip of water, her hand shaking slightly. “Skip told Jerry people had seen Jim and me together, hugged up. He said it was obvious Jerry wasn’t conducting himself as a pastor ought, because he couldn’t manage his household or keep his son under control. He said . . .” She took a breath. “He said, ‘You better get your house in order before Jim gets that girl pregnant’—only that’s not how he referred to me—’because you will lose your job and your reputation if that happens. Dad and I have met with the elder board, and we’re all in agreement.’” Tears rolled down Aunt Gwynn’s face. “And I was already pregnant . . .”

For Libby, hearing the story like this, from her aunt’s own mouth, was like hearing it for the first time.

The table was silent.

Aunt Gwynn took a moment and dried her tears. “Despite Skip’s horrible comments, our parents were the ones we were upset with because we wanted them to support us, not bow to the pressure. But I knew it was hard.” She glanced at the article. “By the looks of things, it’s still hard.”

“It’s hard to wrap my brain around the fact that the latest Calvary pastor is my brother,” Keisha said. “There’s so much history there. And I can’t believe I talked to Todd last week and he didn’t mention the article or the boycott.”

“He’s feeling pretty burdened by it all,” Libby said. “Janelle left me a voice mail saying he decided to cancel the joint services.”

“That’s too bad,” Aunt Gwynn said. “I was heartened to read what they were trying to do.”

“What’s Travis say about it?” Keisha asked.

Libby shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t go to New Jerusalem.”

“Oh, for some reason I thought you did.”

Aunt Floretta looked at her. “What’s your church home, Libby?”

“I don’t really have one,” Libby said. “I grew up in a church in Raleigh, but I haven’t gone regularly since high school.”

“Really?” Keisha said. “I don’t know why I assumed otherwise.”

Libby gave a wry smile. “You had me confused with Janelle.”

“So, okay, let’s talk.” Keisha perked up. “I find this interesting because I wasn’t raised in church, but Wayne and I started going four years ago. Literally changed my life.” Her hands were animated. “I started praying for Mom and talking to her. Took a long time”—she smiled at her mother—“but this summer she started coming with us.” She turned back to Libby. “So I know what it’s like to be the skeptic who’s never belonged to a church. But you grew up in one. What happened?”

“I’ve asked myself that same question,” Libby said. “I grew up in church but was never really committed to what was being taught. Guess I was a rebel at heart, and when I went to college—and even in high school—I did my own thing.” She paused. “I had a relationship in college that left me heartbroken. After that I had all the reasons I needed to avoid committing to anyone, including God. If I don’t take a risk, I don’t have to worry about getting hurt.”

“But that doesn’t make sense,” Keisha said.

“Why not?”

“Don’t you think you’re taking a bigger risk by not committing to God?” Keisha had moved forward in her chair. “You’re staking your eternal future on a belief that you’re fine without Him.”

Libby blank-stared Aunt Gwynn.

Aunt Gwynn nodded in sympathy. “Didn’t I tell you she stayed on me? This is what I was talking about.”

Libby turned back to Keisha. “Well. Still. I think deep down I’m afraid to hope in God. Afraid of taking a step beyond what I know and giving up control, because who knows what will happen? You’re worse off if you try to hope and it only leads to disappointment.”

Keisha nodded as if considering. “I hear you. You’re afraid to hope in God. But the Bible says there’s no hope without Him. So you can either stay where you are, with zero hope. Or you can put your hope—you don’t have to ‘try’—in Jesus and receive a promise . . . that that hope won’t disappoint.”

“Seriously,” Libby said, “I want to know who turned on your switch. How did you get so passionate about this?”

“Girl, I just look at my life and how it’s changed so much because of the Lord. I had a lot of baggage because of what happened with Mom.” She sighed. “And frankly, after hearing that story Mom just told, I need to pray I don’t get an attitude all over again.” She leaned in. “But back to you . . .”

Libby rolled her eyes playfully. “Great.”

“Have you ever drawn near to God?” Keisha said. “Have you ever said, ‘I’m going to see for myself what His Word is about’?”

Libby thought a moment, though she didn’t need to. “No.”

“I’m challenging you to do that.” Keisha sat back, arms folded. “And then you tell me if you’re disappointed.”

Libby turned back to Aunt Gwynn. “You should’ve warned me what I was getting myself into when I decided to come.”

The look in Aunt Gwynn’s eyes said she knew exactly what she’d gotten Libby into. But more than that, her eyes were warm. “You sent a DVD that got me thinking about my family again and moved me to reach out,” Aunt Gwynn said. “Maybe I was meant to return a greater favor . . . to invite you here so you’d think about God again and be moved to reach out to Him.”

Her words and Keisha’s stayed with Libby all night.