Till You Hear From Me: A Novel (34 page)

I
F
I
HAD COME TO
F
LORA’S LOOKING FOR SOME ASSISTANCE
, I
HIT THE
jackpot. Standing there while the tea was steeping, I told her everything, then she pulled me into the living room and made me tell it all again. This, as Flora reminded me, was Hank’s specialty, but he didn’t say much. He asked me a couple of questions, but mostly he just listened. Lu sat beside him, listening intently, too. Occasionally, she’d reach into the giant candy box lying open on the table before us, take a piece without looking, and pop it in her mouth.

Even as I told them about Wes and Toni and Miss Iona’s reporter, I knew I had never done that in my life. I make my assorted chocolate selections carefully, if possible consulting the key that sometimes appears on the lid. Then I nibble around the edges a little bit to confirm the wisdom of my decision before actually putting the whole thing in my mouth. I was in awe of Lu’s fearless faith in her own decisions. I envied her that. And the obvious closeness of her family.

“When are they supposed to pick up the cards?” Hank said.

“They’re going to talk to the Rev on Monday,” I said. “So I guess that’s when they’ll schedule a time.”

He nodded. “I think your reporter is clearly onto something …”

“He works for
The Sentinel
,” I said, not comfortable claiming the guy since I’d never even met him.

“Great paper,” Hank said. “I haven’t heard about this one specifically, but we know they’ve got stuff going all over the country and this would be right up their alley. Why don’t I make some calls tomorrow and see what I can find out?” He looked at Flora, who nodded her approval, even though I was horning in on her Valentine’s getaway trip.

“We’ll be back Sunday night in time for the Rev to change his mind before Wes makes his move. Would that help?”

I was so relieved, I almost hugged him. “Would you?”

“Consider it done,” he said, smiling, reaching for a piece of candy without so much as a sideways glance, just like his daughter, and popping it in his mouth with the confidence of a sleepwalker.

FIFTY

T
HE NEXT DAY
, I
WENT BY
M
ISS
I
ONA’S TO TELL HER ABOUT OUR NEW
best friend, Hank Lumumba. She was as relieved as I was, and as worried about the Rev.

“This is all your mother’s fault,” she said, as we sat in her kitchen talking about everything that had happened and trying to anticipate what would happen next. “If she hadn’t broken his heart and driven him half crazy none of this would have happened.”

I laughed. “Listen, after last night, I have new respect for the woman. She’s a saint for even trying to stand up to the Rev.”

“Don’t get carried away.” Miss Iona rolled her eyes. “Is she still headed this way?”

“She’s got an interview next week,” I said. “That’s why I’m going back to D.C. on Monday.”

“Aren’t you going to wait and see what happens with the Rev?”

“I’ll catch him on YouTube.”

Miss Iona frowned. “That’s not funny, Ida B.”

She was right, but what’s that saying about laughing to keep
from crying? All I could do now was hope that by adding Hank to our team, we could make a stronger case to the Rev. Of course, it wasn’t over once we convinced him of what was going on. Somebody would have to tell Mr. Eddie. I couldn’t even imagine how that conversation would go.

As far as further conversation with the Rev, none seemed to be forthcoming. We didn’t even have dinner together. He had been in his office all day working on his Founder’s Day sermon while I holed up in my bedroom working on my résumé. I figured this Obama fantasy had a shelf life of about another two weeks. If I didn’t get an offer by the end of February, I’d start Women’s Herstory Month on March 1 with an email blast to any and everyone on my list who might have some leads on job possibilities. At that point, whether it was me not making the cut on my own, or being edged out because of the Rev, it wouldn’t matter because sometimes I’ll turn on the TV or the radio and some journalist is talking about
President Obama
this and
President Obama
that and I know whatever happens next, I was a part of that moment, and that movement, and I have no regrets.

It was after ten and I was curled up with Alice Walker’s
The Temple of My Familiar
, which is so wonderful and wise that you can’t possibly get it all the first time you read it. This is my third. I was so deep into its tale of love and rebirth and family and friendship that when my phone rang, I had to blink to remember where I was. I didn’t recognize the number, but that didn’t mean anything. My professional tribe is highly mobile.

“Hello?”

“Ida? This is Lu. I’m sorry to call so late, but my mom and dad are already down at Tybee and I need to tell you something.”

“It’s not too late,” I said. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Can we come over for a minute? Me and ShaRhonda are walking from the West End News.”

I had no idea what Lu could need to tell me, but she sounded serious
as hell. “My father’s working,” I said. “How about I meet you at your house?”

“Great,” she said. “We’re on our way.”

They were coming down the street when I turned the corner and threw up a hand. Lu waved back and they waited for me at the end of their front walk. ShaRhonda, who had been so bubbly at WEGA the other morning, looked like she’d been crying.

“What’s going on?” I said when we got inside. “Has somebody been bothering you?”

Lu looked at ShaRhonda. “Do you want me to tell her?”

ShaRhonda’s response was barely audible. Lu squeezed her hand and took a deep breath.

“Okay, here’s what happened. ShaRhonda and Cornell had a date tonight for Valentine’s Day. They were supposed to go out to dinner and then meet us at a party some of our friends are having, but he called at the last minute and said he couldn’t make it.”

ShaRhonda stood up and started sort of pacing around behind the couch. She was really agitated, but I was no closer to the reason. Lu turned to her friend.

“Do you want to tell it?”

ShaRhonda looked at Lu helplessly. “I don’t even know if I want
you
to tell it. He made me promise, Lu.”

“I know that,” Lu said, “but it’s not just about him. I told you that, remember? It’s bigger than him.”

“He’s only doing it because his dad told him he won’t be able to stay in school if he doesn’t and what’s he supposed to do then?”

“Calm down, sweetie,” I said. “Only doing what?”

“He made me swear on the phone before he’d even tell me, but I told him if he stood me up on Valentine’s Day without a good reason, it was over.” She was pacing again. “I thought he had killed somebody or something.”

“But it’s nothing like that,” Lu said quickly.

“He wouldn’t have to do this,” ShaRhonda said, “but his father
gambled away all his school money and didn’t even tell him because Cornell would have gotten a job. He would have figured out something better than this!”

“Why don’t you sit down,” I said, “and tell me what he said.”

ShaRhonda came back and sat down beside Lu, who moved closer and took her hand, either for support or to keep her from jumping up again, I couldn’t tell.

“Tell her,” Lu said.

ShaRhonda looked at me. “They’re going to rob your father’s house.”

The hair stood up on the back of my neck. He was there now, alone. I tried to keep my voice calm.

“They’re going to do what?”

“Tomorrow when you’re all over at Rock of Faith for Founder’s Day, they’re going to rob your house.”

“Who are
they?”

She shook her head miserably. “I don’t know.”

Lu took up the story. “But they told Cornell he had to move a bunch of boxes out of your father’s house and they needed him to meet them tonight to go over the plans. I remembered what you were talking about with my dad, so when ShaRhonda told me that, I put two and two together.”

“You did good,” I said. “Did he say anything else you can remember?”

ShaRhonda wiped her nose on the back of her hand. “Just that if anything happened, he loved me.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to Cornell,” I said, standing up and reaching for my coat. “I appreciate you telling me. Don’t say anything to anybody else about this, okay?”

They nodded in unison, still holding hands. “We won’t.”

“Do you know who it is?” ShaRhonda said as they walked me to the door.

“Yes.”

“Lu said they’re trying to do some stuff against the president. Is that true?”

“Yes.”

“I know Cornell wouldn’t do anything like that if he had a choice,” ShaRhonda said. “He’s not like that.”

“Everybody has a choice,” I said. “That’s the whole thing about it. You
always
have a choice.”

“Can you stop them?” Lu said.

There was only one answer and I gave it to her.
“Absolutely.”

FIFTY-ONE

A
FTER
I
TOLD
M
ISS
I
ONA WHAT
S
HA
R
HONDA’S BOYFRIEND HAD SAID
, she picked up the phone and called Mr. Eddie without even asking me. Of course he was at home. The Rev was in his study and Wes was somewhere doing dirt.
Where else would he be?
Miss Iona, who seems to regard coffee as a universal cure-all, made a pot while we waited for him to walk the four blocks from his house to hers.

“This is going to kill him,” she said, shaking her head, and then she quoted the bible. “How like a serpent’s tooth is a thankless child.”

But she was wrong. It didn’t kill him. He sat right there, sipping his coffee, and listened while we spun our tale of lies and deceptions, burglars and betrayals. Miss Iona talked more than I did, but when I told him the part about Cornell breaking into the house tomorrow to steal the cards, he put his cup down and looked at me for a long time. I was waiting for him to offer some defense of his only son that we’d have to reluctantly refute, but he didn’t say a word.