The Color of Hope

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Sunday, August 15





Charley didn’t know which was pounding more—her head or her heart—as Marcus assembled everyone in the living room at Janelle and Stephanie’s house. They’d gone to New Jerusalem together this morning and had a meal here afterward, and amid obvious stares and whispers decided to get everything on the table. Marcus’s mom was there, so there was sure to be an objection, and that was the part that was making Charley’s head hurt.

“Marcus, what’s this about?” Aunt Gladys took a seat in the recliner. “Is somebody sick? This reminds me of when we all found out Momma had cancer.”

Marcus was still standing, waiting for everyone. “Nothing like that, Mom, trust me. Just a quick little impromptu meeting.”

Charley sat on the sofa with Stephanie and Lindell, who’d returned from Haiti late last night. Kory came in and plopped down on the love seat.

“Where’s your lovely fiancée?” Marcus asked.

“She took Dee and Tiffany next door to play with Claire, then drove Daniel around the corner to a friend’s house,” Kory said. “She should be back any second.”

“I haven’t heard much about any wedding plans,” Aunt Gladys said. “Have you two set a date yet?”

Janelle opened the front door just then and entered the family room.

“Right on time.” Kory sat back, crossed a leg over a knee. “I’ll let Janelle answer that.”

She joined him on the love seat. “Answer what?”

“I asked if you two had set a wedding date,” Aunt Gladys said.

“Oh.” Janelle looked at Kory, then back to her aunt. “We sort of have, but we’re not making it public yet. We’re deciding how we’re going to handle things. Might be just us and the kids at the ceremony.”

“And not invite the rest of your family?” Aunt Gladys said. “You know—”

“Uh, excuse me.” Marcus looked from side to side at them. “You all can call a separate meeting to discuss Janelle and Kory’s wedding plans. This is our meeting.”

His mother frowned. “’Our’ who?”

“Me and Charley.”

Eyebrows went up around the room.

Marcus sat beside her on the sofa. “This really isn’t meant to be a big deal,” he said. “Charley and I simply wanted to let you know that we’re dating.”

“And that . . . requires an announcement?” Stephanie looked confused. “Just askin’.”

“Good question,” Marcus said. “If we were living anywhere but Hope Springs, with family, church, and other dynamics in the mix, maybe not. But can we be real?” He lifted his hands. “I’m black. Charley’s white. We’ve already seen stares and whispers. So we wanted to get it out there, especially with the family.”

“I’m sure you saw me staring,” Stephanie said. “’Cause I was thinking, It’s about time.” She smiled. “But I can’t see anybody in our family having an issue with the color aspect.”

“As a matter of fact,” Aunt Gladys said, “I’ve got an issue with it.”

“Okaay . . . this is awkward.” Stephanie sat back.

Charley’s stomach clenched.

Marcus cleared his throat. “I, uh, thought you might, Mom. That’s why we wanted to talk about it.”

“Well, I’m not talking about it here,” Aunt Gladys said. “You’re my son. What I have to say, I can say to you privately.”

“But that’s exactly what I don’t want,” Marcus said. “I don’t want any behind-closed-doors type discussions. If this weren’t important to me, there wouldn’t be any discussion. I’d just kick it with Charley for a while, then move on to the next person, like usual.” He took her hand. “But this isn’t usual for me. I want to build something meaningful with Charley. I want to see where God takes it. And if there’s an issue based on something we can’t control, like the color of our skin, I want us both to hear that and address it.” He spoke earnestly but evenly. “That’s where I am, Mom.”

“I can respect that, son,” Aunt Gladys said, “and I don’t have a problem with Charley personally.” She looked at her. “From what I’ve seen, you’re a very nice young lady.” Her attention shifted back to Marcus. “But I told you not to date white girls for a reason. Life is complicated enough without you making it complicated for you and your future children. There was a time in this very town when you couldn’t have looked at this girl without suffering some kind of consequence.”

“Mom, really? You’re going back fifty years?”

“Sometimes you need to be reminded.” Aunt Gladys had him fixed firmly in her gaze. “And do you know why you couldn’t look at her? Because white women were considered superior—especially blond-haired, blue-eyed white women.”

Charley cast her own eyes downward.

“And black women?” Aunt Gladys continued. “Inferior. That’s the history. And whenever I see a black man with a white woman, all I can think is he must think the same way—a black woman isn’t good enough.” She paused. “The last thing I wanted was for my son to think that way.”

“Mom, I don’t think that way.” Marcus looked incredulous. “If I were focused on skin color, I wouldn’t even be with Charley. It’s not about that. I’m looking at her heart.”

“Aunt Gladys,” Janelle said, “even back in the day, everyone wasn’t focused on skin color. Jim Dillon fell in love with your little sister, a black woman, and she fell in love with him.”

“Mm-hm,” Aunt Gladys said, “and you see where that got them. Just like I said, she suffered consequences, to this very day.”

Stephanie peered over at Janelle. “That might not have been the best example. I’m just sayin’.”

“The point is the same,” Janelle said, “and I’m sticking to it. Nobody’s road is trouble-free when it comes to relationships. Look at mine and David’s. Look at Kory’s.” She gestured toward Marcus and Charley. “But if you’ve got two people who love Jesus and put Him first—I don’t care if one is striped and the other polka dot—there’s no better foundation.”

It got quiet, and Charley wondered what everyone was thinking.

“I’ve got one request,” Aunt Gladys said. “I want you two to make this same announcement over at the Willoughby house, with Skip Willoughby present.”

Charley looked at Marcus. “I don’t mind if we go there next.”

Gladys pushed back in the recliner and put her feet up. “Then I’ve got nothing to worry about.”





Charley and Marcus stepped into the foyer of her home. She had called ahead, telling her mom she wanted to talk to her about something and asking if she’d make sure Grandpa Skip was there too. Of course her mother wanted to know then and there what was wrong. Charley assured her that actually, for the first time in a long time, something was very right.

“Mom,” Charley called.

“We’re in here,” her mom said.

Charley led Marcus into her family room. Her mom and Grandpa Skip rose from their seats, eyes on Marcus.

“Mom, Grandpa, I’d like to introduce you to Marcus Maxwell.” She turned. “Marcus, my mom, Dottie Willoughby, and my grandpa, Skip Willoughby.”

Marcus shook her mom’s hand first. “Very nice to meet you, Mrs. Willoughby.”

Charley’s grandfather eyed him, then shook his hand.

“Nice to meet you, sir,” Marcus said.

Skip looked at his granddaughter. “What’s this about, Charley?”

Charley smiled. “Marcus and I are friends. I wanted to introduce you because . . . well, we’re dating.”

“You’re dating?” her mom said. “But . . . we’ve never even met him.”

“That’s why I wanted to introduce you.”

Skip returned to his armchair. “Tell us about yourself, Mr. Maxwell.”

Her mother sat again as well, and Charley directed Marcus to the vacant love seat.

Marcus sat. “Well, I’m the assistant principal at Hope Springs High—”

“Ah, now it makes sense,” Dottie said.

“—and a member of New Jerusalem Church—”

“That makes sense now too,” Skip said.

“I grew up in Raleigh, but my family goes back a couple generations in Hope Springs.”

“Who’s your family?” Skip asked.

“My dad is Warren Maxwell—and my mom, Gladys, is a Sanders.”

“I remember your family,” Dottie said. “Your mom was a few years ahead of me in school.”

An awkward silence descended. Charley was finding this a little harder than she thought.

“Marcus, I want to give you some Willoughby family history,” Skip said. “We value family very highly. My wife and I raised Charley’s dad in such a way that he respected our opinion, sought our counsel, and even sought our input on whom he should date.” Skip gestured toward Charley’s mom. “Dottie was a natural choice because we knew her parents. They were good friends, rest their souls.”

Her mom nodded reverently.

“Charley was raised that same way,” Skip continued. “We were longtime friends with the parents of the young man she was engaged to. And although that didn’t work out—scoundrel that he turned out to be—we still intend to play a part in helping Charley choose whom she will bring into this family, which of necessity starts with whom she will date.”

Skip paused, but it was clear he wasn’t done.

“I respect that you seem to be a hardworking, churchgoing young man,” Skip said, “but the fact is, we don’t know you or your family.”

“What?” Charley was incredulous. “Mom just said she knows his mother and the rest of his family.”

“Charley, that was eons ago,” Dottie said. “I haven’t seen them in years.”

“Well, I can’t give my blessing to this,” Skip said. “Frankly, you scared me when you first walked in. I thought you were about to announce an engagement.”

Charley felt an incredible letdown. “What about you, Mom?” She looked at her. “Are you supportive?”

“Did you two talk to Marcus’s parents?” Dottie asked. “I’m curious as to what they said, Marcus.”

Marcus glanced at Charley. “My dad wasn’t there, but we talked to my mom. She had her reservations.”

“See, that’s interesting,” Dottie said. “I admit I have my reservations as well. Maybe it’s our generation. Maybe we’re a little wiser from all we’ve seen in this town.” She sighed. “I’m sorry, but it’s hard to be supportive of this. I have to agree with your grandfather.”

Charley stood, reaching for Marcus’s hand. He stood with her.

“It makes me sad that I don’t have your support,” she said. “I don’t know if Marcus and I will last a week, a month, or a lifetime. I just know we’ve decided God’s opinion matters most. And we can’t think of anything He doesn’t approve about our relationship.”

They walked out of the room, her family following.

Charley turned. “I’m glad we talked to our families at this early stage, so we’d know where we stand. I just ask that you’d be willing to pray about this and see if your heart is God’s heart.”

Skip folded his arms. “Charley, as the head of this family, I have to tell you that this isn’t over. I have to look out for your best interests.”

Charley and Marcus walked out the door.