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Authors: Neta Jackson

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BOOK: Who Do I Lean On?
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I nodded.

“Okay. Then this is the way it's gonna go down. Step one. You got this big idea how to stretch two apartments an' fix everybody's problems. Step two. You talk to me an' Tanya about it—though right now you talkin' to me an'
I'm
gonna go talk to Tanya. She don't have to know you already jumped the gun and talked to the Baxters. Step three. Tanya an' me gonna talk about it and decide if we
like
the idea of sharin' an apartment—which gonna be five people in three bedrooms once Sabrina's baby get here.”

“I know. I—”

“Zip it, Miss Gabby. I'm talkin' here. Step four. Tanya an' me will tell you what we think of your big idea. Then you'll know what ya gotta say to Josh and Edesa. Maybe nothin' if we take you up on it.”

I felt confused. “What do you mean? I was going to go downstairs right now and tell Edesa I can't offer the apartment after all.”

“An' I'm tellin' you I just want a chance to be part of the decision—since you first off made me an' Tanya think we each gettin' our own place.”

Now it was my turn to stare at Precious. Who
was
this woman who had accumulated more spiritual wisdom in her streetwise noggin than I had in all my “churchy” years growing up? Was she really willing to consider this idea after I'd changed the plan without telling her? Finally I spoke. “I . . . I hardly know what to say. Just promise you'll be honest with me, even if the answer is no. And if it is no, the sooner I can say something to Josh and Edesa, the better.”

Precious snorted and stood up. “Since when has Precious McGill ever shied away from speakin' my mind? Now let me go find Tanya and tell her about this big idea. Gonna be easier for her to be honest 'bout how she feel if you're not there.”

chapter 28

It was hard for me to talk to Edesa about filling in for Estelle's cooking class today and not say anything about the problem with the apartment. But she seemed excited about teaching some nutrition basics even on short notice and the apartment didn't come up again. “This is what I want to do when I graduate, Gabby,” she said, her dark eyes dancing. “I can wing it today—but next time, give me more notice so I can prepare properly!” She laughed, her face breaking into that wide Edesa-smile that seemed to turn on highlights from within her warm mahogany skin.

Lunchtime came and went, but Precious and Tanya didn't show. I set aside two plates for them with the baked chicken, green beans, and macaroni on the lunch menu. Estelle had disappeared as soon as food was on the counter, leaving Wanda in charge of supervising serving and cleanup.

After lunch, Edesa put Gracie down for a nap in one of the beanbag chairs in the empty rec room and used the time before the two o'clock class to prepare some notes. When I peeked out my office door at two thirty, she was using that day's menu to illustrate the five basic food groups. “. . . and the cheese sauce in the mac 'n cheese counts as protein from the dairy group. But if you look at the basic food groups on the paper I passed out, what was missing? . . . Tawny?” I closed my door with a smile. Edesa seemed as happy as if she had a class of thirty instead of just the five who showed up.

But still no sign of Precious and Tanya. I started to feel anxious. Should I go look for them? I didn't want to make them feel pressured. But if I had to tell Edesa that the apartment offer was off, I wanted to do it before she left. Otherwise I'd feel like a wimp doing it over the phone.

I picked up one of the stuffed dogs still stacked around my office and glared at its mopey face, beginning to regret I'd let hurt feelings get tangled up in the decision. If I backed out on Josh and Edesa now, I could hardly blame them if they got tired of waiting and rented something else—and that would be the end of my good idea. A property manager and his family right on the premises, a couple I knew and trusted and who were already volunteers at Manna House . . . it would've been so perfect!

Rats!
I threw the stuffed dog into a corner with more force than necessary.
I
was the one buying the building, the one offering most of the apartments for second-stage housing. Didn't I have the right to do what I thought best? And like Mabel said, most women who qualified for second-stage housing didn't end up with their own three-bedroom apartments! But no, I was trying to please everybody.

Double rats!
Why did I—

A light tap at my office door was followed immediately by Precious and Tanya slipping into my office, momentarily allowing chatter from the class outside to slip in with them. Precious jerked a thumb in that direction. “Since when did Edesa start teaching healthy eatin'? I shoulda put Sabrina in that class! That girl carryin' a baby and eatin' like a teenager with pizza on the brain.”

I tried to read their faces but got nowhere. “Edesa's just filling in for Estelle. Long story. Besides, Sabrina's at school. Don't they talk about the importance of nutrition in her birthing classes at the hospital?”

“Huh. Don't get me started. She's missed so many of those classes—”

“Precious!” Tanya hissed. “That ain't what we came to talk about.”

“Oh. Right.” Precious gazed somewhere over my head. “We gonna do it.”

I looked cautiously from one to the other. “Do what?”

Tanya giggled. “Share the apartment—if we can have the first floor, you know, 'cause Sabrina ain't gonna be walkin' up no three flights of stairs.”

I hardly dared breathe. “You . . . really? You're okay with sharing an apartment?”

Tanya nodded. “To tell you the truth, Miss Gabby, I was kinda scared thinkin' about Sammy and me alone in one of those big ol' apartments. How would I ever get enough furniture to fill it up? And Sammy an' me don't need three bedrooms—in fact, he sleeps better if he's in the same room as me. 'Course it's different for Precious an' Sabrina . . .”

Precious made a face. “Got that right. I been relishin' the thought of havin' a whole bedroom to myself, an' one for Sabrina—that girl drives me nuts, the way she throws her clothes around—and a baby room we could fix up with teddy bears or Winnie-the-Pooh or somethin'.”

“But I told Precious if we're housemates, we can help each other with the cookin' and cleanin' an' babysittin' too!”

I still was having a hard time believing what I was hearing.

“And the bedroom situation?”

Precious shrugged. “Like she said, Tanya an' Sammy would just as soon share a bedroom—for now anyway—so she's cool if Sabrina an' me have the other two. An' I'm thinkin' it might be better for the baby to sleep in Sabrina's room anyway, help her remember she's a mama now. If that baby had a room all its own, Sabrina is likely to sleep right through its nighttime feedings, an
I'd
be the one gettin' up at 2 a.m. Uh-uh. Been there, done
that
.” She shook her head, sending her twists swinging.

“Besides.” Tanya smiled shyly. “I like the idea of Mr. Josh an' Miss Edesa livin' there too. My Sammy don't know his daddy, an', well, it'll just be nice to have a young man like Mr. Josh around the place. He's good with all the kids. An' we all love Miss Edesa and little Gracie. It'll kinda be like . . .” She seemed embarrassed. “Kinda like the family we never had.”

Long after Precious and Tanya had slipped out of the room, I sat at my desk talking to God.
Oh, God, forgive me. I nearly made a mess of things—but just look at You, God. You took it away from me and then gave it back, better than before! Giving Precious and Tanya a chance to own the new plan is so much better than me getting all self-righteous about my “rights.” Oh, Jesus! Help me to trust You more .
. .

Another tap at my door interrupted my scattered thought-prayer. Edesa stuck her head in. “I'm leaving now. Got studying to do. But any chance Josh and I can come over to the apartment this weekend and maybe do some painting? Or, knowing Josh, he's going to want to prep the walls. I know you haven't closed on the building yet, but . . .”

I grinned at her. “That'd be great. Just one thing . . . I forgot to tell Josh which apartment. It's the third floor. Tanya and Precious will be sharing the one on the first floor. Is that going to work for you?”

Sí, sí!
I like being on the top floor. No little footsteps running back and forth overhead—oh, I hear Gracie fussing. Can “ you believe it? She slept through the whole class.” The vivacious young woman gave me a quick hug. “And
gracias
again,
mi amiga
. A larger apartment will look very, very good next time we meet with our social worker about Gracie's adoption.
Dios es bueno
!” Laughing, she shut the door behind her, but her sweet presence seemed to linger. I still wasn't used to a Spanish-speaking woman who looked African-American—her “African-Honduran” heritage, she'd told me. Edesa seemed at once exotic and earthy, sweet and salty. No wonder Josh Baxter, three years her junior, had fallen in love with her.

My spirit was nearly bursting with joy at how things were turning out.
If I trust in the Lord, He promised to make my paths straight
. Amen to that!

I turned back to my computer, looking forward to having Josh and Edesa pop over while the boys were with their dad this weekend. It got lonely when they were gone. Did I have anything else scheduled this weekend?

I clicked on the icon for my computer calendar, which popped up instantly on the screen. My next appointment leaped out at me:
Friday, Sept. 8. Court date. 1:00 p.m
. Tomorrow. My buoyant spirit suddenly sank under the weight of Philip's last words to me:
“A judge may have second thoughts about giving you custody when he hears you left your own kid high and dry on the first day of school
.”

I tried to swallow but my mouth had gone dry. Was he going to challenge my custody petition?

I wanted to talk with the boys about their dad and me going to court the following day, but it seemed like the phone rang all evening. Lee called to give me a few tips about tomorrow: Arrive early. Dress professionally but conservatively. Don't bring a big purse—keep it simple, easy for the security personnel to see what's in it. Nothing metal or sharp. Let the lawyers do the talking unless the judge specifically addresses me . . .

Estelle called from Harry's house, saying she had to drive Harry to the Medical Center tomorrow and she wouldn't be at work. She'd already told Mabel, but wanted to let me know and ask me to pray. I started to ask her to pray about my court case tomorrow, but she was off the phone already.

I called Jodi Baxter to pray about my custody petition, and she said Avis Douglass and several of the other Yada Yada sisters were at her house praying for Harry Bentley, and they'd be glad to pray for my custody case as well. “You doing okay, Gabby? Do you need somebody to go with you?”

Yes!
I wanted to screech. But what was she going to do, take a personal day off from teaching? Sounded like a bad idea. “I'm all right. I'll be fine. Just pray, okay? One o'clock.”

The boys would be going to bed soon. I made a couple of smoothies out of some leftover strawberries, two overripe bananas, and the last of the orange juice, and told the boys I had a couple of things I needed to talk to them about. P.J. looked wary, but joined Paul and me on the window seat in the sunroom just off the living room. The evening was still pleasant, somewhere in the seventies, and I opened the windows to catch the breeze coming off the lake a mile away. Underneath our windows, a cricket orchestra sawed away as the boys sucked the straws in their smoothies.

Just start, Gabby
. No matter how I did this, it wasn't going to be easy. I blew out the breath I'd been holding. “You both know your dad and I worked out an informal agreement about where you'd live and when you'd spend time with him after you came back to Chicago.”

P.J. shrugged. “Yeah. So?”

“Well, I filed a petition for temporary custody, and the court date is tomorrow. I just wanted you boys to—”

“Why?” P.J.'s eyes sparked. “I mean, why do you have to go to court and do all that stuff ? Why can't you just leave it like it is? You said yourself that you and Dad agreed how to work it out.”

Paul seemed preoccupied, blowing bubbles through his straw back into his smoothie.

I chose my words carefully. “Because earlier this summer, your dad took you back to Virginia and left you there without telling me. You just . . . disappeared, and I didn't even know where you were.” My voice wobbled slightly. “I'm filing for custody so that can't happen again.”

Paul blew more bubbles. P.J. glowered at him. “Stop it, squirt!”

Paul noisily sucked up the last of the smoothie and slumped against the throw pillows on the window seat, kicking his legs against the baseboard.

P.J. wasn't through. “Shouldn't we go to court too? We're not babies. Maybe the judge wants to ask us where we want to live.”

BOOK: Who Do I Lean On?
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