“But my life’s such a mess.”
“It isn’t.” He closed the distance between them. “You have Jesus and you have me. You have everyone at the club.” He put his warm hand against her cheek.
The feeling was wonderful. Could it be that maybe Jordy actually liked her? As more than a friend? She tried to focus. “God will get me through this. Just like your dad.”
“Right.” Jordy smiled at her.
He was closer now, their faces inches apart. Cami could practically hear his heartbeat in the silence of the night. All she wanted was for him to kiss her. But this was impossible. His dad would want someone better for Jordy. Someone more like him.
Her internal protest faded. None of that mattered now. It was just the two of them here under the night sky. So close she could hear him breathing. She studied him. “Thanks, Jordy. For always believing in me.” She felt tears well up in her eyes. “You believe in everyone like that. Dwayne. The kids in the club. It’s one of my favorite things about you.”
Then, what she didn’t dare hope would happen, did. Jordy still had his hand on her face, and he brought his lips to hers. The kiss didn’t last long, but it warmed her entire body. His eyes melted into hers. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.”
She felt dizzy, like her feet were lifting off the ground. The nightfall did a good job of hiding the heat she could feel in her cheeks. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted you to.”
He smiled and gave her a quick hug. “I have to get home.” For a long moment he searched her face. “We’re still going to be here. Like this, Cami. When all this is behind us.”
She nodded. With everything in her she wanted him to be right. He walked her to the Smiths’ house and this time he didn’t kiss her. Just hugged her and waited while she walked up to the door. Cami turned and waved goodbye as he took off running for his home. As he disappeared around the corner, she replayed the way his hand felt on her face, the heat of his lips against hers.
The kiss had only lasted a few seconds, but it would stay with her forever.
And maybe—if God answered her prayers—Jordy would, too.
? ? ?
WENDELL WAS WAITING for Jordy when he got home that night. He pulled his bathrobe tight around his middle and sat in the living room chair closest to the front door. He heard Jordy turn the key and open the door. Once he was inside he seemed to take a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dark of the foyer.
Only then did Wendell stand up. “Where’ve you been, Son?”
Jordy jumped back. “Dad! You scared me.”
“We have a rule in this house, young man. Let someone know where you’re going. Not to mention it’s past curfew.”
“I’m sorry.” Jordy was out of breath. “I didn’t want to wake you.”
“Next time, do. I can sleep later.” This entire scene was completely out of character for Jordy. He had always been the best son, obedient, quick to help. Honest. Wendell had a feeling who was behind this. He worked to keep his tone even. “Were you with Cami Nelson?”
Jordy shifted his weight, and looked down at the floor for a few seconds. “Yes.” His eyes found Wendell’s again. “But not just her. A bunch of kids from club were there, too. At the park a few blocks away.”
Over the years Wendell had learned to take his time in moments of discipline. Let his kids be heard. Instruction and correction could come later. When all the facts were on the table. “A midnight meeting at the park. I see.” Wendell paused. “Wanna tell me about it?”
“It was for you.” Jordy was breathing more normally now. He locked the door behind him and motioned to the living room. “Can we sit down?”
“Sure. Of course.” Wendell had all the time in the world. “How was this meeting for me?”
They both sat down.
Jordy shrugged. “All of us want to testify on your behalf. We think it’s wrong that you’re on trial when the club is for us. We’re the ones who needed the bar to be raised.” Jordy’s tone was earnest. He was telling the truth, Wendell was sure.
He nodded. “I see. And since you have school, when exactly do the group of you plan to testify?”
“We need your help for that.” Jordy’s eyes shone with pure intentions. “Wednesday or Thursday. Friday. Whatever day you want us there, we’ll be there.”
Wendell could hardly be frustrated with the boy. He felt his heart soften. “That’s very kind, Jordy. Something your mother would’ve been a part of.”
“Cami . . . she’s . . . she’s a lot like Mom that way.” Jordy blinked, but he didn’t look away. “She and I stayed and talked for a few minutes after everyone else left.”
Wendell’s heart beat a little faster. “You and Cami?”
“Yes.” Jordy swallowed, clearly more nervous than a few minutes ago. “I like her, Dad. I know it’s . . . it’s awkward because of her father. But I can’t help it. I like her a lot.”
Wendell had seen this coming, and even still he could do nothing to stop it. “I was afraid we’d need to have this talk.” His sigh filled the quiet living room. “You and Cami Nelson, Son. It could never work. Not in a million years.”
Jordy rarely got angry, but here in the dark of night, with only the outside lamps lending light to the room, the boy’s eyes flashed. “Dad . . . that’s a terrible thing to say.”
“It’s true.” Wendell didn’t want to have to say this, but Jordy had left him no choice. “Black and white, no matter how far we’ve come on race issues, things are worse than ever. Her dad’s one of those closet racists. I could tell that the minute I saw him in court.”
Jordy squinted his eyes. “What? Dad, are you serious?”
“Of course I’m serious. He glared at me as soon as our eyes met. Looked like he wanted to kill me. Like he’d never seen a black principal.”
“Dad! Listen to you.” Jordy stood and paced across the room and back. “He has something against Christians. Not black people. You have no proof of that whatsoever.”
“Well, still . . . these days things are worse. People will hate you for dating a white girl. They’ll hate Cami for dating a black guy.” Wendell wished there was an easier way to spell out the facts. “Save yourselves a lifetime of heartache and find another girl, Jordy. Let this one go.”
Jordy stopped and stared hard at Wendell. For a few seconds he worked the muscles in his jaw, as if he was so angry he couldn’t think of exactly what to say. “So who’s the racist, Dad?”
“Jordy.”
“Please. Listen to me.” Jordy seemed to force himself to lower his voice. “You’re telling me her father looked like he wanted to kill you? Like he’d never seen a black principal? Why? Because he’s a mechanic? Because he doesn’t have his doctorate like you?”
Wendell had never seen such righteous anger from his son. He leaned forward in his chair and waited for Jordy to settle down. When the boy sat again, Wendell chose his words with care. “I’m sorry. You’re right.” Wendell could feel the Holy Spirit reminding him to be humble. He was wrong here, and he needed to say so. “There’s no reason for me to assume the man’s a racist.”
“We can’t buy the lie that all white people are racist, Dad.” Jordy’s expression became more hurt than angry. “Isn’t that what you taught us kids?”
It was. Wendell felt awful. “I’m sorry. Forgive me.” This was part of what made their family special. The ability to apologize freely. And freely forgive.
“Okay.” Jordy settled back in his chair. For a minute he gripped the armrests and rocked. As if he were sorting through his feelings and trying to figure out which was the most important. “I know Cami’s dad is a mean man.” Jordy hesitated. “I know he doesn’t like God or Christians.” His eyes locked on to Wendell’s. “But I like his daughter. That’s all I know. Cami loves Jesus, Dad. She does. And what about Mom? She was half white, remember? You and Mom were the ones who taught us that skin color doesn’t matter.”