Tears Fall at Night - smashwords (16 page)

“Yeah, but there ought to be a dog stamp on it,” Ram replied back.

Rolling her eyes, Renee shoved her brother. “Don’t start this stuff tonight, Ram. Just go back to the head table with the rest of the bride and broom party and stay out of my business.”

Ram opened his mouth to protest, but Renee lifted her index finger and pointed toward his table. “Go Ram. I’m not going to let you ruin my fun tonight.”

He tried to help her. But if his sister wanted to be foolish and fall all over herself for a man who might be in prison in the next year or so, then she could have all the temporary fun she wanted. Ram turned toward the head table and saw Maxine seated next to his chair, eating a piece of wedding cake. So, he took his sister’s advice and set about minding his own business. He grabbed a piece of cake off the cake table and then took his seat. “Is this cake as good as you are making it look?”

Maxine picked up her napkin and wiped her mouth. “Did I look like I was starving?”

“You was getting it in that’s for sure.”
“I deprived myself of all sweets for over a decade. Now that I don’t have to worry about being rail thin anymore, I was probably a little too excited about eating this cake.”

Ramsey picked up his napkin and wiped the white icing she’d missed from her chin. “Don’t worry about it, cake looks good on you.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” Maxine joked as she took another bite of her cake.

Ramsey thought about the line he’d just heard Marlin running on his sister and he didn’t want to come across like that. But if he was honest with himself, from the moment he saw her today, he’d been mesmerized. He wanted to get to know this woman in the worst way and he wasn’t trying to blow his opportunity by acting like a jerk. “No, I’m not trying to hand you a line. The plain truth is, I think you’re beautiful and I would love to take you out some time.”

Dontae the groom and Ronny, the all around clown were standing behind. Ramsey hadn’t seen them until it was too late. After he told Maxine that he wanted to take her out, both Dontae and Ronny put their hand around their ear and said, “Say what?”

Okay, yeah, when Ramsey first came to the city and Dontae tried to hook him up with one of the Dawson sister, he’d been adamantly against it. He hadn’t wanted to be fixed up and Ramsey had just gotten out of an awful relationship with a bipolar woman who made Glenn Close seem like a reasonable woman. So, he needed that hiatus. He turned to his brother and said, “I’m gon’ tell y’all like Renee just told me, get somewhere and mind your own business.”

Ronny held up a hand. “We know when we’re not wanted. And besides we have better things to do than to watch you get shot down.”

As he brothers walked off, Ramsey turned back to Maxine. “Excuse them. They weren’t raised right.” A giggle escaped Maxine’s beautiful lips. Ramsey took that opportunity to say, “See, I’m already making you laugh. Imagine how much fun the two of us would have on a date.”

“I’m sure it would be wonderful.” Maxine couldn’t stop grinning. “It’s just too bad that you didn’t ask me out before I decided to become a mom.”

Ramsey’s furrowed brows indicated that he didn’t get it at all. “I would have never guessed that you were pregnant. When are you due?”

“I’m not pregnant,” she said matter-of-factly.

Ramsey took a bite of his cake, took a moment to chew it and then said, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t you need to be pregnant in order to become a mom?”

“I would also love to have a husband before I become pregnant.” Maxine shrugged. “But since my husband hasn’t found me yet, I decided to adopt.”

“A little impatient aren’t you?”

A ting of regret crossed Maxine’s eyes as she said, “The truth is, I thought that I wanted nothing more than to be a model and once my modeling career was over, I’d intended to parley my success into an acting career.” She shrugged again, “but I can’t act, I’m tired of modeling and since my biological clock is ticking like a time boom, I decided to adopt.”

Ramsey was a bit surprised that Maxine had shared so much with him. But maybe she thought of him more like a brother, since her sister had just married his brother. He hoped to God that she didn’t think of him that way. Because he sure wasn’t seeing a relative when he looked at her. "You look so young. I'm sure you have plenty of time to wait for the right man to come along."

"Like they say, black don't crack," Maxine told him with a smile. "But seriously, I'll be thirty-four this year, so I don't have very many baby making years left."

Ramsey shook his head to that news.

"What?" Maxine asked.

"It's nothing. I'm just amazed that a woman as beautiful as you, hasn't found a man willing to make a baby with you."

"It's more difficult than you think. Most of the men I date are either insecure about my success or they think I'm too controlling."

"I don't know what kind of men you've been dating, but I love me some successful black women."

"Well then, it’s too bad for me that you didn't find me before I decided to settle down and become a mother." With that said, Maxine got up and walked away from Ramsey.

Ronny walked back over to the table, leaned over to his brother and said, "Struck out, huh? Should have asked me or Dontae. We could have told you that those Dawson girls ain't no easy win."

***

Books in the Praise Him Anyhow Series

Tears Fall at Night

Joy Comes in the Morning

A Forever Kind of Love

Ramsey’s Praise

http://www.vanessamiller.com/ebooks

Bonus Read...

The Blessed One

First book in the Blessed and Highly Favored Series

by

Bestselling author of the Rain Series

Vanessa Miller

Joel Morrison was getting that same gut-wrenching feeling he had back in 1952 when his wife and three children died in a fire. He had been away on location filming another blockbuster, family friendly movie when the Kern County earthquake devastated parts of the Southern California region. Because of the earthquake, the power went out in Los Angeles. His wife and children lit candles so they could see, and must have forgotten to extinguish them when they went to bed. To this day Joel refused to allow anyone to bring a candle into his home.

Seven years later, Joel married a sweet-natured woman named Beth. He and Beth had five children. He and his second wife enjoyed forty-two happy years of marriage before she went home to be with the Lord.

His children were all grown now and had contributed a lot to the full head of gray hair he’d acquired in his eighty-three years on earth. But not since 1952 had Joel felt like destruction was darkening his door.

He walked into his prayer room with a heavy heart. His knees ached so bad that he no longer bowed down on the ground. These days, Joel either sat in the comfortable La-Z-Boy chair he’d placed in the middle of the room or on the wooden bench that was in front of the altar he’d constructed by hand when he and Betty moved into this house twenty years ago. This was the only room in the house that he had not allowed his wife to have professionally decorated. Joel wanted this room to be personal. Pictures of his wife and children hung on the walls. Sometimes he touched each child’s picture as he prayed for them. Joel didn’t need much in this room, just his La-Z-Boy, bench, altar and the pictures of his family.

Wanting to be close to the altar, Joel sat on the bench. He looked toward heaven, and thanked God for all that He had done for him. For in truth, Joel was a wealthy man. He was a millionaire six hundred times over. He owed everything he had to the Lord, so each morning he rose up early, came into his prayer room and thanked God for life, health and strength. Joel also sent up prayers for his children. They were each successful in their own right, and Joel knew that the Lord had made that possible also. But God must have been allowing his children free choice with their personal lives, because they were headed in the wrong direction.

“Father, You know more about what’s going on with my children than I; but I have this feeling in my gut, and it’s telling me that trouble is on the way.” Worry lines etched Joel’s face as he continued. “I wasn’t around to save my first wife and children when they died senselessly. But Lord, please let me live long enough to see my children trusting in You.” He sat on the bench and waited patiently for the Lord to show him what to do.

A thought struck Joel. He stood and paced the perimeter of his prayer room. Yes, he had been praying for his children since they were born. He’d read from the Bible to his children, telling them about some of the great stories within those sixty-six books: Joshua fighting the battle of Jericho; Daniel in the lion’s den; and Jonah in the belly of a whale. But he had obviously failed to teach his children the importance of living for God and trusting Him at all times. “Well, I’m not dead yet,” Joel proclaimed as he opened the door and walked out of his prayer room with an idea forming in his head.

In this current economic downturn, Joel had witnessed so many people in need. It was now years after hurricane Katrina, Gustav and Ike, but people were still homeless and jobless. The country now had the highest unemployment rate in years, banks and businesses were closing in record numbers. Joel wanted to help those people.

He went into his office, sat down behind his massive oak desk and pulled out his personalized envelopes and stationery. Joel was ready for a vacation, and he was going to invite his children to join him. He wasn’t sure if his children would enjoy this vacation once he disclosed part of his plan. No, they wouldn’t be happy, but if his plan worked, then before this was all over, his children would renew their relationship with the Lord.

Joel wanted to shout, “Hallelujah!” and do a praise dance to the Lord, but he had five letters to write.

Chapter One

“Mr. Morrison, I really need to discuss something with you before you leave today.”

Eric was leaning over his desk, putting some files in his briefcase so he could head home, when Karen, his assistant came into his office. He straightened up, revealing his full six feet 2 inches, 178-pound physique. He straightened his butter cream colored tie and looked at his watch. It was 7:30
pm
. He’d promised Linda that he would be home by six. Well, he’d already broken that promise, so he might as well handle this business. He sat back down and said, “What can I do for you, Karen?”

“I would just like to state for the record,” Karen began as she handed Eric the bills, “I had no clue that this much money was being spent since you put Mark in charge of marketing for your campaign.”

That was the Corporate America motto: Cover yourself and blame the other guy. When in truth, Karen’s responsibilities included reviewing the finances of his campaign and letting him know if he wasn’t receiving enough campaign contributions to cover spending. He flipped through the bills. With a frustrated sigh, he laid the bills on his desk as he asked, “Why are all these bills past due?”

Karen plopped down in the chair in front of Eric’s desk. She let out a long sigh as she confessed, “We haven’t received as much in contributions as I originally projected. The election is nine months away, and with nothing significant happening, we haven’t given the donors a reason to part with their money.”

Here he was mayor of Cincinnati,
Ohio
,
running for governor, with the full intention of making the White House his home within the next decade, but he didn’t even have enough money to run for the top job in Ohio? What did that say about his eventual chances of becoming president of the United States? Was he dead in the water before his presidential campaign even marinated in the delegates’ minds? Eric refused to believe that. His father had always told him that God was looking out for him and wanted to see him do well and prosper.

Being the eldest child, Eric had always been called upon to solve problems. He could remember his brothers and sisters yelling things like, “Give it back. I had it first.” To break up the argument, Eric would simply suggest, “Why don’t you play with the truck first, Isaiah, and then in a little while you can let Shawn see it. Okay?” Or he would say, “Look Dee Dee, there’s a prettier doll on your bed, why don’t you let Elaine have this old doll, so you can play with the prettier one.”

He’d been solving problems since he was a kid, so before Eric’s pity party could get started he decided to search for a solution. He grabbed his calculator and began adding up his debt. He turned to Karen. “It looks like we owe almost five million for various items, including my radio and television ads. How much money do we have right now?”

Karen briefly glanced at the spreadsheet in her hand and responded, “We have about two million available for bills.”

His father could cover these bills without even blinking an eye. But Eric hadn’t asked his father for anything since he'd graduated from college. Yeah, he gladly took the fifty thousand his father’s accountant sent to all his children each year. His father had also bought each of his children their first home. Everyone but Elaine that is; she was still too busy saving the world to plant roots anywhere. But he hadn’t asked his father for anything else since he’d bought the house for Linda and him. When their daughter was born, Eric sold that house and used the proceeds to buy the six-
thousand-square-foot home
they now shared. He wanted to be his own man and make his father proud of his accomplishments. The last thing Eric wanted to do as he was nearing forty, was to beg his father for money. Besides, his father knew that it took money to run for public office, so if he wasn’t offering, Eric wasn’t asking.

A natural problem-solver, Eric said, “Okay then, call all of our creditors and offer them a third of what we owe, and then tell them we will pay the rest over the next three months.” Eric had no clue where the money would come from to pay the remaining balances. But you never knew in the political arena. A scandal could develop concerning his opponent, which would cause more voters to want to get the incumbent out of the governor’s seat. Then they would send in more money to his campaign. Eric hoped he wouldn’t have to hire investigators to dig up dirt on Governor McDaniel, but he wasn’t opposed to it.

He finished his meeting and left for home. Linda was going to kill him. This was the third night this week that he’d arrived home after eight o’clock. Linda didn’t understand how much public service meant to him, how much joy he received from setting policies in place that would help communities for generations to come. Being in public service allowed him to use the peacemaker and problem-solver skills he’d developed as a child. But Linda was always complaining that he was more dedicated to the city of Cincinnati than to his own family.

Eric didn’t understand Linda. She had everything a wife could want, and yet she was still unhappy. He had bought her a nice home; she had a hefty clothing allowance; and although he was late a lot, he still came home to his wife every night. Not every woman could say that. But Eric Morrison, the next governor of the great state of Ohio, didn’t cheat on his wife. All any politician had to hear was the name Bill Clinton and that was enough said about cheating. No sir. Eric wasn’t trying to build a legacy just to have it torn down by infidelity. His father had taught him that.
Joel Morrison used to tell his sons every chance he got:
A man’s name is only as good as his wife says it is
.

Eric met Linda after graduating from college, while he was a lieutenant in the United States Air Force. Linda’s father was a colonel in the army, so she grew up as an army brat.

As Eric pulled into his driveway, he thought,
Now she’s just a brat
. She was never satisfied with anything he did for her, and had to have everything her way or she fell apart.

When he walked into the house, he took off his hat and coat, put them in the closet and yelled, “I’m home.”

No one answered back. He looked at his watch and walked out of the foyer in search of his wife. He found her in the living room. She was stretched out on their beige sofa with a half empty bottle of scotch by her side. Eric rolled his eyes and turned to walk away. Then he noticed a letter sitting on the coffee table that looked like it had been typed on his father’s stationery. He crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the couch next to his wife, catching a whiff of Linda’s alcohol-laden breath as she snored.

Shaking his head, he picked up the letter and read:

Son,

I hope all is going well for you and your family. It has been way too long since I broke bread with you and your lovely wife. Just thinking about how much I miss my grandchildren brings tears to my eyes. So, I’ve decided to invite you all to our vacation home in the Bahamas for a week of fun and family.

I know you’ll need time to get things in order at your office, so I’ve scheduled the vacation for the end of the month. How about it? Can you bring your family to the Bahamas on March 25
^th
? I really hope you will be there, because I will be going over some changes to my will.

Love,

Your father Joel

Eric held his breath as he leaned back on the sofa. What changes could his father be making to his will? As far back as he could remember, Joel had always told them that they would split his fortune five ways when he died. Had something changed?

***

“What did you say to me?” Dee Dee Morrison-Milner glared across the table at her husband. Actually she preferred thinking of him
as her soon-to-be ex-Bible-toting-husband.

“I said I love you, Dee Dee. Please, let’s just go home and talk this over,” Drake Milner pleaded. His dark brown eyes filled
with liquid sadness.

Dee Dee didn’t care. She rolled her eyes and turned to face her lawyer who was sitting on her left. She ran her hands through her fifteen-hundred-dollar weave and said, “William, can you please tell Drake how much alimony he will receive from me when this is all over?”

While Dee Dee’s attorney flipped through his files in order to get to the requested information, Drake said, “What if I don’t want alimony? What if I just want you?”

Elbowing Drake, Mark Winters his attorney spoke up. “Actually, my client has given up a great deal for this three-year marriage. Alimony is the least Mrs. Milner can do.”

“Don’t call me that,” Dee Dee scowled. “I am Dee Dee Morrison. I insist that you refer to me in that manner during these proceedings.” Actually, her name was Dee Dee Morrison-Wilcox-Johnson-Sooner-Milner, but Dee Dee didn’t want to think about all her failed marriages. She’d rather just be Morrison again and start over. The only reason she even entered into mistake number four was because her father thought Drake was such a great catch. According to Joel Morrison, Mr. Drake Milner was one in a million. Well, her daddy didn’t have to live with Drake. Joel Morrison wasn’t around when Drake opened his Bible and dared to read it to her. Her father wasn’t being dragged to Sunday morning worship service when all he wanted to do was sleep in. Dee Dee had been through all that madness when she lived with her father. That’s why she thought she could handle a clone of Joel Morrison, but she’d had enough.

“What have I done that was so wrong, Dee Dee? I didn’t cheat on you, didn’t abuse you. I honored the vows that I made to you,” Drake said.

Dee Dee turned to William and said, “Can you please tell him how much I’m willing to give him in alimony?”
William cleared his throat and announced, “Ms. Morrison is willing to give you $50,000 a year for the next three years.”