When Trey's shift ended at six the next morning, he stopped to get flowers for Cheney before heading home. He heard good things about Gertie's Garden. He had ordered from them over the phone, but today he wanted to look at their selections. Once inside the showroom, it took him fifteen minutes before deciding on a large basket with a mixture of plants and flowers.
Taking his selection to the counter, the previous day's nightmare awaited him. "Lisa?" He frowned. "Well, good morning." Lord, what am I about to face today? "You work here?"
"I own it," she stated, ignoring the proper business pleasantries. "What can I do for you, Officer Washington? Here to buy your fiancée flowers? You know, you really need to keep your lady in check."
"Excuse me?"
"Your woman is out of control. Any other man wouldn't have allowed his girlfriend—oh that's right—fiancée—to do all she did at the hospital. Malcolm's girlfriend," she paused, pointing to herself, "meaning me... is not that gullible." She gave Trey a warm and inviting smile. "This is a fair warning. If you can't control Hallison, then I will."
Trey was praying and counting the minutes before he would lose his temper. He didn't ignore threats—subtly or openly. Beloved, believe not every spirit, but try the spirits whether they are of God because many false prophets are gone out into the world, he recalled 1 John 4:1.
"Lady, I'm engaged, so Hali isn't a threat to you, but here is a threat. Don't you ever lay your hands on her again. There're two laws you should be concerned with—the spiritual and natural."
Lisa arched a brow and twitched her nose. "Really? Your gun doesn't scare me. The gods I serve have great power to destroy you and your little girlfriend."
"Don't try me, Lisa. I can back up my words, and I don't need this gun to prove it." He laid his item on the glass counter and swaggered toward the door with his shoulders lifted and hand close to his holster in case he needed to play cowboy. If he had to buy flowers from a peddler on the street, he would. Gertie's Garden wouldn't make another dime from him.
Trey arrived at Missouri Baptist Hospital with flowers he’d purchased from Stems Florist Shop. The owner, Jenny, had greeted him and helped in record time. At the receptionist's desk, he inquired about Cheney's room, then he rode the elevator to the third floor as instructed. Double-checking the room number, he knocked softly on Cheney's door. It was too early to visit, but he wouldn't have time to get back to check on her later. He opened the door. Cheney was resting, and Parke was sprawled in a reclining chair beside her. His hand was still latched onto hers as he snored.
Quietly placing the flowers on a nearby table, Trey left. Taking a wrong turn, he bypassed the family visitors' room and froze. He wasn't surprised to see Malcolm camped out in a corner asleep. However, he was shocked to see his fiancée snuggled in Malcolm's arms, asleep. Lisa was wrong: Hallison wasn't a threat to her. It was Malcolm who Trey had to worry about.
His nostrils flared like a bull. If he thought he could get away with snatching Malcolm up by his T-shirt and imprinting his fist print on the other side of Malcolm's head, he would. Unfortunately, that wasn't an option. It wasn't the image he wanted to portray to God, his sergeant, and again to Hallison. The list was endless.
Trey calmed his breathing, but he couldn't stop staring. He was trying to send the telepathy thing where Hallison could feel his presence, wake, and run into his arms, then he would whip out his gun and fire shots at the villain. Too bad he couldn't play out the scene that had been on a recent CSI episode.
At that moment, Trey wouldn't give the devil the satisfaction of another fight. The previous day, Trey took Malcolm's bait; he wouldn't take Lisa's today. Once he got some rest, he would talk to Hallison about her compromising position. Retracing his steps, he left the hospital, fighting every thought the devil was trying to put in his head.
The first order of business for Trey when he got home was to pray. He trusted Hallison. Malcolm was a suspect in a man-acting-like-a-fool-in-love case.
In hindsight, Trey should've arrested Malcolm the moment he lunged at him. "No, I chose to push my Holy Ghost aside. My flesh had some fun at the expense of shaming God." He was sure Malcolm was taking pleasure in calling him one of God's hypocrites. "Why didn't you stop me, Lord?"
Going into his bedroom, Trey didn't undress, but removed his gun holster as he fell on his knees. Sighing, he unloaded, praying for forgiveness. "Lord, I slipped last night. I know I've disappointed you. I've failed you by not using your restraining power. I've quoted Romans 12:21 so many times on my job, Be not overcome with evil, but overcome evil with good. Yet, when it came time for a trial, I forgot it. Lord, please don't let me lose your favor or become a hindrance in Malcolm's salvation. Amen." Trey heaved his body on the mattress and fell asleep.
I have forgiven you. Do not be angry about what you saw today. It's my will that Hallison and Malcolm are together, God spoke.
"What!" Trey slurred as he stirred.
God continued, You are the vessel I have chosen to accomplish that task. Finish that work that I have begun through you.
Trey rolled over, alarmed. When he didn't get enough rest, he had the wildest dreams, sometimes nightmares. After Trey got up, showered, shaved, and performed other grooming necessities, he couldn't shake the dream. Did God really speak to him? If so, was it ludicrous to hand over the woman he loved? Not to any man, but to Malcolm? It was absurd, but the nightmare got stranger. God said not to mention a word of His plan to Hallison.
God didn't say anything about talking to Malcolm, but Trey wasn't feeling that. The request was almost enough to cause Trey to backslide in rebellion.
Let no man take your crown, God whispered Revelation 3:11.
Trey gritted his teeth in frustration. "How did I become a main character to advance God's story?" In the past, when God spoke, Trey listened and tried to obey, but this was emotional suicide. He needed confirmation. Opening his Bible, he scanned the pages, looking for a scripture.
Instead God spoke again, I will present you faultless before the presence of my glory with exceeding joy.
Frustrated and still confused, Trey picked up the phone. His brother was a skillful listener who could decipher meanings behind words without explanation. Once Emmanuel answered, Trey recapped the entire scenario, starting from Malcolm pounding on Hallison's door to his dream.
"You almost got in a fight?" Emmanuel couldn't stop laughing. It was as if he didn't hear a word about what God had instructed Trey.
"No, key word, I did get in a fight with Hallison's ex."
Emmanuel hollered, barked, and spit out a laugh. Finally, he sobered. "You're going to lose your Holy Ghost or career over some fool?"
God had already chastised Trey, so he didn't need another reprimand. "E, listen. God said Malcolm was Hallison's blessing for her obedience and steadfastness to His Word. What about my blessing? What about my obedience to God? What about me?"
His brother sighed. "Hmm. That's deep. At least we know God is still in the blessing business," he said solemnly.
"Man, did you hear me? Evidently, I'm not a part of Hallison's blessing."
"Trey, calm down. You must've found favor with God for such a heavy task. I don't know what to say. All I know is God doesn't always reveal the whole picture. Look at Job, Abraham sacrificing Isaac, or Moses' forty years in the wilderness."
"I don't want to be lost in the wilderness for forty years! God mentioned He's preparing my wife. I wish I'd known that before I proposed. The future Mrs. Washington must be a nutcase. It seems as if I'm the go-between man between Hali and Malcolm because she needed encouragement. Malcolm needed to be brought to his knees. He wanted no part of a godly life, so He sent Malcolm a woman who was not after His own heart."
"I need to see you work this. How about a double date?"
"E, you aren't helping."
"You don't need my help, my brother. God's got your back. Just remember, Paula is mine."
* * *
"We need to talk," Malcolm told Lisa on his way back to the office after seeing a client. Two days had passed since Lisa's showdown at the hospital. Since then, Malcolm had done a lot of soul searching.
"I tried to give you time with your family, but I've been waiting for you to call. You want to have dinner at my house or yours?" Lisa replied.
"Neither. I'm in Chesterfield. How about meeting me halfway at the Gashouse Grill in Creve Coeur? I know the owner and can eat him out of his sweet potato fries. We might as well grab a bite to eat there."
"That's doable. Although I prefer for you to pick me up. Oh, how is Cheney? I've been sending good vibes her way. I hope she liked the flowers from Gertie's Garden."
"She received them," Malcolm said, becoming bored with the conversation. "Thank you, Lisa. We appreciated it. See you in a few."
Hours later, Malcolm relaxed on the patio outside Gashouse Grill, waiting for Lisa. He had already put away two orders of sweet potato fries. When she pulled into the lot, Malcolm stood. By the time Lisa parked, Malcolm was at her car door.
"Hi," she said, breathless. "Sorry I'm late."
Malcolm kissed her cheek and swept his arm out for her to lead the way back to the patio. In her classic black attire, she swayed her hips with the wind. Malcolm shook his head. What a waste. Pointing to their table, he held out her chair before he sat. They ordered and ate, and then Malcolm unloaded his memorized speech. "Lisa—"
She reached out and laid her hand on top of his. "I overreacted the other day. I'm secure in your feelings for me." She paused, lifted her face in superiority, and sighed. "It's another bump in the road in our relationship, but we can work out the kinks." She displayed a bright, enticing smile.
Loosening her hold, Malcolm leaned back. He formed a teepee when he folded his hands. Even though her eyes were pulling at him, he blinked to break her spell and looked away. Finally, he cleared his throat and carefully explained his position. "I have three don'ts, Lisa: Don't you ever, ever lay your hands on Hallison again. The woman has too much class for that, and I thought you did, too." He glared as she gasped in shock, but he continued. "The Jamiesons are a proud family. Babies in our family are a big deal. Losing little Parke was a generation lost. For you to say Cheney can have another one was not only the worst timed comment I've ever heard, it was callous, too. We don't know if another baby will come from her womb."
"Sorry, but I like to deal in reality. Sometimes I get emotional, but rarely. I didn't know." Suddenly moisture covered her eyes, hinting at her sincerity.
"I know you didn't." He squeezed her hands, accepting her apology. Very few people could comprehend his family's obsession with the birth of Parke VII. An African ceremony, savings bonds, yearly treasures stored away, and property listed in his name for later use and more were waiting for him at his birth. No one outside his family would understand the depth of their celebration.
"I'll send her more flowers. The Sympathy Ship is our most popular."
"That won't be necessary, which brings me to my next point. The past few days have been a wake-up call for me.
"I saw God's power of life and death. I also witnessed how my brother and sister-in-law are recovering despite the loss. While they were holding it together, I broke down. I don't know if He was listening, but I talked to Jesus. Lisa, my life can't continue as it is—unsettled. I don't know if Jesus has all my answers, but I want to find out. Care to join me on this spiritual expedition?"
"I can't."
"Why?" If Lisa had the same aversion to religion, he could understand. It had taken him a year, and losing two people close to him, for him to wake and smell the flowers from Gertie's Garden.
"Malcolm, I practice Wicca," she stated boldly as if he should've known.
He froze, waiting for any sign that she was joking. She didn't blink, but he exhaled. Parke was right. It did get worse. He was dating a modern day witch. No wonder he felt he was being pulled in two opposite directions. "Well, I'm not a warlock or whatever the male counterpart is. I'm not into that. Our relationship isn't going to work."
"I'm not ready to let you go."
"I am." He reached into his back pocket for his wallet to pay their bill.
"It's because of Hallison, isn't it?"
"Unfortunately, Hallison is engaged, but I'm finally hearing what she, and my brother, and sister-in-law have been telling me for a long time. I've got nothing to lose by trying Jesus."
"It’s possible you could lose me."
Malcolm didn't say anything, but he sure did think that may not be a bad thing.