Camille lived in a complete basement apartment near Powder Springs, west of Atlanta. With its own kitchen, laundry, and separate entrance, it was fully independent of the home above it. Camille had decorated the place nicely in bright blues and pale yellows that gave a feel of more light than there actually was.
“Thanks,” Camille said, placing a large dish of food in front of Toni before sitting down at the small glass table herself.
Toni laughed. “You already made a plate for me?”
“I told you I was hungry, didn't I?” Camille said, an eyebrow raised.
They bowed their heads as Camille said a quick grace before digging in. It was a few moments before either of them spoke again.
“So where were you coming from anyway?” Camille asked after a few bites.
“Work,” Toni said, taking a mouthful of Camille's macaroni and cheese. She closed her eyes. It was amazing. She was coming over here every Sunday from now on. “I was going stir crazy in my apartment.”
Camille laughed. “You know Trey, Jasmine, your doctor, and your boss would kill you if they knew, right?”
“Yeah,” Toni said, letting out a long breath. “But I'm not trying to be up under any of them. Especially Trey and Jasmine, who are turning cartwheels about me going to church. They think God is going to be the solution to all my problems.”
“And you think differently?” Camille asked.
Toni bit her lip. “I think it's more complicated than that.”
Camille shrugged. “Of course it is. But you've been through a lot, Toni. And if I know you like I think I do, you probably think you can handle it all on your own.”
Toni pushed the food around on her plate but said nothing.
“But if ten years has taught you anything, it should be that you can't heal yourself. The only one who can bring you out of this is God.”
Toni frowned. She felt like she was having the same conversation over and over. First with Adam. Now with Camille.
“You don't know what it was like, Camille,” Toni said, putting down her fork. “When I was in that house with the bodies of my parents I felt like I was alone. I thought I was going to die. I remember thinking about God as I lay at the bottom of the steps in the basement bleeding and wondering where He was.”
Camille reached a hand across and grabbed Toni's. “He was there, girl. Right on the floor with you.
“ âThe Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.' That's Psalms 34:18. And in Hebrews where it tells us Jesus is our high priest, it also says we do not have a priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses.”
She squeezed Toni's hand. “Everything we could possibly go through He's been through. And every time we go through something He is there with us. That's why we need Him, 'cause can't nobody else say that. And even if they can, they have no power to help us.”
Toni pulled away from her friend's grasp. “I'll be fine, Camille. I'll get through this.”
“And then what?” Camille asked.
Toni looked up at her friend in surprise.
“Okay,” Camille said, sitting back. “Let's say you get it together on your own. It's unlikely, but let's say you do. You deal with all your issues. What happens after that?”
Toni cocked her head to the side. “Are you gonna get preachy?”
“Yes,” Camille said without hesitating. “But you're eating my food so you can hear me out for thirty seconds.”
Toni rolled her eyes.
“In the book of Matthew there's this story about this man who's controlled by an impure spirit,” Camille begins. “Somehow the spirit is removed from him and the man is free. But then the spirit roams around, and finding nowhere else to settle, comes back to the man he was in before.
“This man had gotten his life together, but because he was still empty, because he hadn't filled the vacancy, the impure spirit left with something of more value. The impure spirit was able to again take hold of his life. And the parable says the second time around it was worse than the first.”
“I'm not possessed, Camille,” Toni said.
“No, but you're empty,” her friend said. “And that's just as dangerous. And that space inside you, that gaping hole that you try to fill with work and everything else, that's the place where God needs to be.”
Camille looked down at her plate. “Trust me, I know. I've walked that road.”
Toni sighed. “You're talking about the abortion, aren't you?”
Camille nodded. Toni noticed that she didn't look up at her.
Toni put down her fork and sighed. “Look, Camille, I am really sorry about that. I shouldn't have gotten mad at you about having the abortion. I had no idea what you were going through and I had no right to judge you. I should have been there with you. I'm sorryâ”
“It's okay,” Camille said. She still hadn't looked up but she had put down her fork and stopped eating. “I should have listened to you when you told me not to do it. I was just so desperate. After I did it, though, I felt so terrible. I didn't sleep for weeks. I was so depressed.”
A pained expression contorted her features. “I even tried to commit suicide.”
“Oh, honey, I didn't know,” Toni said, grabbing Camille's hand and holding it tight. “I am so sorry I wasn't there. I shouldn't have bailed on our friendship like that.”
“You were going through your own stuff,” Camille said, shaking her head. “It was near when your parents died.”
Toni watched her friend blink back tears. The memories of that time came flooding back to Toni. She remembered the horrible argument she and Camille had had about the baby. Toni had always thought abortion was wrong and so had Camille. But when she found out that she was pregnant and Gary broke up with her, denying the kid was his, she had felt like there was no other option. She had gone to Toni for support, but Toni had gotten mad at her and accused her of being selfish. They both had said some hurtful things.
“How did your mom take it?” Toni asked.
Camille shook her head. “She was so mad. She wouldn't talk to me for weeks. I think she was more upset about the fact that I had an abortion than about the pregnancy. She never threw me out or anything, but she might as well have. She wouldn't speak to me, and every time she looked at me it seemed like it broke her heart all over.”
“That must have been horrible,” Toni said, still holding on to Camille's hand.
Camille nodded. “Yeah, but Pastor and Sis Reynolds, and a lot of people from Immanuel were really there for me. I don't think I would have survived that year without them.”
“You know when I saw you at Jasmine's place a couple months back, I was pretty surprised,” Toni said. “I had thought for sure that you would have left the church a long time ago.”
“I probably would have,” Camille said. “If it wasn't for my Immanuel family, who knows?”
Toni nodded.
“That's why I'm going so hard with you,” Camille said, tilting her head so she could meet Toni's eyes. “I know you can get past this.”
Toni bit her lip and blinked back the moisture from her eyes. “Thanks.”
“So anyway,” Camille said, sitting up with a little laugh and wiping her eyes, “my life is not totally depressing. After everything I went to college, got my nursing degree, got a job at the clinic, and here I am.”
Toni nodded, going back to her food. “You look like you did good for yourself. You got it all together now.”
“Well,” Camille said, taking a forkful of chicken. “It ain't all together.”
Toni watched her friend curiously but said nothing. Camille chewed a bit thoughtfully before speaking again.
“I've been thinking about moving.”
“To a new place?” Toni asked.
Camille bit her lip. “To a new city.”
Toni's eyes widened. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Camille said. “I love Atlanta, but it would be nice to live somewhere else for a while, you know? Maybe LA or New York or Boston.”
Toni's eyebrows went up. “Wow, you're serious.”
“Of course I am,” Camille said. “Why wouldn't I be? I'm twenty-seven, I've got no husband, no kids, no debt, nothing to keep me tied to the ATL. When else in my life am I going to be able to up and move? I'm surprised you sound so shocked. You were always the more adventurous one of the two of us.”
“I know, but I don't know if I could just up and move,” Toni said, shaking her head. “I've got a job here, and then there's Trey and Jasmine and the baby, and Afrika... .”
Camille made a sound in her throat and Toni looked up.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Camille said.
Toni noticed her friend didn't meet her eyes. Toni put down her fork and folded her arms. “That's not a nothing sound. That's an I-don't-believe-you sound.”
“Okay,” Camille said, looking up, a small smile playing on her lips. “You sure those are the
only
reasons that you don't want to leave?”
“Of course those are the only reasons,” Toni protested. “Why else wouldn't I want to leave?”
Camille looked at Toni for a long moment before putting down her own fork. “So you not wanting to go has nothing to do with Adam?”
Toni scowled. “Why would Adam figure into the equation?”
“I don't know,” Camille said, in a voice that suggested otherwise. “You tell me.”
“He doesn't figure,” Toni said stubbornly. “I don't even know the guy. You probably know a lot more about him than I do.”
“Not really. He's pretty private,” Camille admitted. “You should probably ask Sabrina. They were dating for a while.”
“Sabrina?” Toni repeated, her eyes widening. “Small-group Sabrina?”
“The very same,” Camille said with a laugh. “Anyway, he's free and clear now, if you're interested.”
“I'm not.” Toni sawed away at a piece of chicken breast.
“Okay.” Camille got up and took her plate to the sink. “But if you are, I'll just remind you of the vultures.”
Toni laughed out loud. “You're terrible, Camille.”
“Hey, I just speak the truth.” Camille shrugged. “With those women at Immanuel circling, the good ones don't stay in the water long.”
“Sounds like you have a little crush.” Toni tilted her head to the side, considering her friend.
“Nah. Adam's like a brother to me.” Camille turned on the water to wash her plate. “Besides, a lot of people at Immanuel in our age group know what happened with me.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Maybe it's not so much that I want to move. I just want to be with someone who doesn't know my past before they get to know me.”
Toni nodded. She definitely understood that feeling. And as she thought about herself, Camille, and even Jerome, she couldn't help but think it was amazing how so many people seemed to be looking for the same thing.
Chapter 17
A
dam and Jerome walked up the front steps of the Westwood Towers and through the large impressive lobby to the front desk.
“We're here to see Dwayne Cartwright,” Adam said to the poised young woman with a headset sitting behind the divide.
She smiled warmly. “Your names?”
Adam gave her their names and she gave him building passes and directions to Dwayne's office on the eighth floor.
“Thanks,” Adam said, before heading in the direction she pointed. Jerome was busy looking around, and Adam had to tug at his arm to get him to focus.
Jerome let out a whistle once they were a distance from the reception desk. “Man, these people must be up to their armpits in cheese. Are you checking these floors, Bayne? They so shiny I can see my face in them. And do you see the swimming pool in the middle of the lobby?”
Adam chuckled. “It's not a swimming pool, it's a fountain.”
“Yeah, well, I ain't never seen no fountain big enough for me to do laps in,” Jerome said dryly, as they stepped into the elevator.
Even though Adam had laughed at Jerome's exaggeration, he had to admit that Westwood Towers did scream money. It was obvious that anyone who worked there must have it to spareâincluding Toni's lawyer friend Dwayne. As they walked down the hall to his office, Adam couldn't help but wonder how Toni knew someone like Dwayne well enough to pull the kind of strings she was pulling for them. Was he an old boyfriend? A current boyfriend? A lover? He felt the muscles in his neck tighten with every additional possibility. Maybe it was best he just not explore the thought at all.
Dwayne's door was open when Adam and Jerome finally found it.
“Come in,” Dwayne said, standing from his desk when he saw Adam and Jerome lingering at the entrance. “Did you find the place okay? I know this isn't really your part of town,” Dwayne said with a light laugh.
Adam frowned, and Jerome's eyes hardened.
“What's that supposed to mean?” Jerome asked.
“Nothing.” Dwayne cleared his throat. “I just meant that most people don't come to this side unless they work in the towers.... I never meantâ”
“We found the place fine,” Adam said, deciding to end Dwayne's discomfort. “Thank you for seeing us.”
Dwayne ran a hand over the back of his neck. “No problem. Please, have a seat.”
The three of them sat in uncomfortable silence as Dwayne shuffled through some papers on his desk. Adam's eyes followed the slim black man. He was tall, almost the same height as Adam, with smooth almond-toned skin. His curly brown hair gave away his mixed roots, however. Even though it was cropped close to his head, Adam could tell that he wasn't all black.
Shiny silver cuffs peeked through the sleeves of his gray pinstriped suit, which Adam could tell was expensive. Even though it was boiling outside, Dwayne was decked out in a jacket and tie. Adam figured the guy could pull that off working in a building so fully air-conditioned it felt like a New York winter.
Dwayne cleared his throat again and looked up at Adam and Jerome, who were both watching him. “So I wanted to talk to you both about the case,” he began. “The prosecution is taking an aggressive approach but I still think we can get you out of this. The goal is to try and keep the case from going to trial.”
Adam nodded. He had been reading up on similar cases, and he had arrived at the same conclusion. If they could somehow come to some kind of deal, or even get the case thrown out before they got in front of a judge, they had a better chance of ensuring Jerome got no prison time.
“So the key is to strike a bargain with the prosecution and get them to drop the case,” Dwayne continued. “If we can give them something, they might be willing to go easy on you.”
Adam sat forward a little. “What are you suggesting?”
“Well,” Dwayne said, turning his focus toward Jerome, “I think if you agree to serve eighteen months, I can get you out on parole after a yearâ”
“You want me to serve time?” Jerome said angrily, jumping to his feet. “I thought you were supposed to be helping me stay out of jail.”
“I'm helping you get the best out of this situation. And twelve months is better than three years,” Dwayne said.
“But I didn't do nothin'!”
“You didn't do nothing?” Dwayne repeated, his eyebrows going up. He began flipping through Jerome's file in front of him. “It says here you were caught at the scene of an attempted car theftâ”
“But it wasn't even my idea!”
“You resisted arrestâ”
“The cop shoved my face into the ground, and put his foot on my neckâ”
“You aided the escape of your two accomplices; you refused to cooperate with the police; and you were found with marijuana on your person at the time of arrest,” Dwayne read from Jerome's rap sheet.
“I didn't help nobody get away. They left me,” he said, beating his chest for emphasis. “And that weed thing was straight-up bogus. Even the cops at the station said that.
“Man, I don't need this,” Jerome said, scowling and heading toward the door. “This is whack.”
“Jerome.” Adam's voice stopped Jerome short of the door, in no uncertain terms.
“Sit down.”
Adam could almost feel the hostility radiating off Jerome in waves, but eventually the young man turned around, walked back to his chair, and dropped into it. He shot a look so poisonous at Dwayne that the man pushed back from his desk a little.
Adam looked down at his hands folded in his lap. He had always known that there was a possibility Jerome would end up serving time. It was just the way the system was. And if all that Toni had told him about the case was right, then the only way to appease the real people pulling the strings would be to make them feel like they had won a littleâand Jerome in jail, even for a short period, achieved that. But that didn't mean Jerome planned to accept it. Even though it was hard to see, Adam knew the God he served was in control of the entire situation. If anyone could create a way out of this one for Jerome, it would be Him.
“What other options do we have?” Adam asked after a long moment.
“Not many,” Dwayne said, his forehead wrinkling. “We could take our chances at trial, which we would probably end up losing; or we could agree to plead guilty to a charge of accessory to theft, which would carry a lighter sentence. It would still carry jail time, however.”
“So basically, you're proposing that Jerome plead guilty and serve time for a crime he didn't commit,” Adam said calmly.
“I'm saying that the prosecution wants Jerome in jail,” Dwayne deadpanned. “They're going to try to get that one way or another. If we don't plead out, then they're going to take us to trial and go for at least five years. And they might be able to pull it off, given the other car theft they've tagged onto his case. Now I'll go with whatever you decide. The choice is yours. But if I was looking at eighteen months in jail versus five years, I would go with the eighteen months.”
“Eighteen months and a police record that has Jerome listed as guilty of grand theft auto,” Adam said. “A record that will follow him around for a lot longer than a year and a half.”
Dwayne grimaced and sat back. “I can talk to them about keeping it off his record, but that might mean taking the parole off the table.” He sighed. “I am just your lawyer. I can advise you of what's best but I can't make you do anything. At the end of the day it's up to you. What do you want to do?”
“We want you to come up with some better options,” Adam said matter-of-factly. “Ones that involve no jail time for Jerome and don't have him in your system as a convicted felon. We told you what happened,” Adam continued. “Jerome didn't do this. He knows that he shouldn't have been where he was that day, and that's why he admitted to criminal mischief. And he has been at Jacob's House for the last year and a half. He shouldn't have to serve more time. I heard you were good. Make the right thing happen for Jerome on this one. Please.”
Dwayne ran a hand over his head. “All right. I'll talk to the DA and see what we can work out. But still, think about what we discussed. If it comes down to it, you should know what you're willing to accept.”
They got to their feet.
“Thanks,” Adam said, shaking Dwayne's hand. He nodded for Jerome to do the same. Grudgingly the young man complied, but then he made a beeline for the door.
As they waited for the elevator to come to their floor, Adam glanced back down the hall at Dwayne's office. The meeting had left him even more concerned about Jerome's fate than before, but it had also helped Adam to realize something that he had suspected all along.
It was going to take divine intervention to keep Jerome out of prison.