Chapter Nine
Taylor’s internal alarm went off as it did every morning at seven. Stumbling out of bed, she bumped into the treadmill Lance bought a few years ago for Christmas. Neither one of them had used it all year. He was supposed to move it into the basement, but was waiting on a friend to help him. Taylor rubbed her shoulder and pushed the exercise machine closer to the wall and out of her way. If Lance didn’t get their bedroom together by Christmas, she was going to make the changes herself, even if it meant hiring people to do it for them.
The movement had not disturbed her husband at all. Judging from the deep bass of his snores, Taylor knew he was tired. He’d been working nonstop on Gram’s house for some time, and his lack of sleep was beginning to take its toll. It was after one o’clock when he had dragged himself in the house last night. Taylor had tried to explain Joi’s latest episode while Lance changed for bed, but as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was sound asleep.
Taylor used the light coming through a small slit in the curtains as a guide to her prayer corner. She and God had a lot to talk about this morning. If Joi was going to make it through high school while they lived under the same roof, Taylor was definitely going to need God’s help. She read another chapter from the book of Judges then communed with God in silence.
Thirty minutes later, muffled voices outside her door interrupted her sacred time. The twins were awake. Almost every Saturday they thought of a new prank to try on their sisters. Their routine usually ended with one of Taylor’s daughters chasing the twins through the house or yelling for them to stop. As she listened to the patter of feet tromp down the stairs, Taylor concluded her prayer session. It was time for the weekend to begin.
She got up from her chair and leaned over an old TV stand to reach a robe hanging off the closet door. Unable to grab it, she leaned in further and almost fell, causing the stand to roll into the bed.
Lance snorted a few times before his snores stopped completely and he opened his eyes. “Morning,” he said, his voice groggy and deep as he lay on his back.
“Morning,” she replied as she tied the belt of the robe around her waist. She removed the scarf on her head and fluffed her short curls. Standing over her husband and rubbing her silk scarf on her arm, Taylor said, “You must’ve been really tired. You fell asleep on me.”
Lance grabbed the extra pillow on the bed and stacked it under his head. “I had a long day.”
“Do you remember anything I said before you dozed off?” she asked.
Lance thought for a minute, then covered his face with his hand. “Was it about Joi?”
“It’s been about Joi for the past two months,” she told him. “I really need you to talk her. What do you and the boys have planned for today?”
Lance cleared his throat. “I’ll be at Gram’s most of the day. I want everything done before Thanksgiving next week.”
Taylor lifted the shades to let some natural light into the room and dropped her scarf on the dresser. “Can you make some time for her?” she asked. “We need to address this. She’s really getting out of hand.”
“Okay,” Lance said and sat up, “but can you give me all the details again? I only remember the part about a party.”
Taylor circled the room, throwing knickknacks and clothes out of her way as she recounted the story. She may have exaggerated a few points, but she wanted Lance to understand that their style of discipline was not working for Joi.
“I’ll pick her up from work today. Maybe we’ll go out to eat or something,” Lance said and lay back down.
“Thank you,” she said and changed the subject. “I talked to Gram yesterday. I’m going to make the pies this year.” Taylor didn’t mention that she practically had to beg her mother-in-law to allow her to do so. “So I’m going to get the shopping done this morning. Linda’s gonna take Joi to work and Leah to dance for me. Then I have a meeting at church at eleven. Oh, I need you pick up Leah, too.”
“Sounds good. I’m sure Gram would love to spend some time with her,” he replied and buried his head under the covers for a few extra minutes of sleep.
“I’ll have the twins come get you when breakfast is ready,” Taylor said and closed the door behind her.
Faint noises coming from Joi’s room caught Taylor’s attention as she walked down the hall. The twins were in their room entertaining one another with jokes they’d made up, and Leah was watching television. Who was Joi talking to?
Curious, Taylor walked lightly on her feet to Joi’s door. She must’ve been talking to someone on her phone. It wasn’t even eight o’clock. From the nature of her high-pitched laughs, Taylor could tell that a young man was on the other end of the line. Joi was not banned from talking to boys. She was sixteen. It was unrealistic to believe that she didn’t have male friends. But at this hour on a Saturday morning? Who and what was so important that the call couldn’t wait until after she at least had breakfast?
Taylor put her ear close to the door, hoping to hear tidbits of the conversation. Maybe she’d learn the truth behind the streety smells Joi brought home yesterday. Eavesdropping was wrong, but she knew Joi would never be honest about last night. Placing her fingertips on the door, Taylor pressed her left ear against the wooden frame.
“Hey, Mother,” Taylor heard from behind and jumped. She pushed herself away from the door and turned around slowly, her face flushed with embarrassment.
In Superman pajamas he’d yet to outgrow, Tyrell stood less than a foot away. “Can we spend the night at Gram’s tonight?”
“It’s okay with me. But ask your father,” she said, praying he wouldn’t question her actions. Using her knuckles, Taylor tapped Joi’s door, and seconds later it swung open. With untamed braids and crusty eyes, Joi stared at Taylor as if she was invading her private space.
Tyrell poked fun at his oldest sister’s appearance and ducked behind his mother for safety. Shielding her son, Taylor looked at Joi and said, “Linda’s coming to get you this morning.”
“You’re not going to work?” Tyrell asked. “Are you coming to Gram’s with us?”
“Not this time, sweetie. I need to pick up a few things for Thanksgiving. Your grandmother wants me to bake some pies,” Taylor answered, her eyes glued on her daughter. Something about her wasn’t right.
“Ummm. I can’t wait for your sweet potato pie. Can you put caramel on top?” Tyrell requested and freed himself from Taylor’s protection.
“Yes,” she replied then shifted her full attention back to Joi.
With the cell phone wedged between her ear and shoulder, Joi pulled up her striped flannel pajama pants and asked, “What time will she be here?”
Joi’s nonchalant attitude was bordering rude, but Taylor let it slide. “About an hour.”
Resuming the conversation with the person on the other end of the line, Joi turned around, and her pajama bottoms dropped a little, exposing a small portion of her lower back.
Taylor blinked several times. The foreign image painted on Joi’s skin had to be a figment of her imagination. She rubbed her eyes. Maybe there was something clouding her vision.
Joi tried to shut the door, but it wouldn’t budge. Taylor had stopped it with her hand, chipping two of her freshly manicured nails. “Lift up your shirt,” she commanded calmly.
“Let me call you back,” Joi huffed then flipped her cell closed. She tugged at her baby tee, trying to cover herself completely.
On impulse Taylor raised the top herself and gasped. She knew her daughter couldn’t have a tattoo. But a basketball the size of a silver dollar was etched on Joi’s lower back with the words Boss Lady scripted underneath. “When did you do this?”
“A few weeks ago,” Joi said as if she’d done nothing wrong.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into you.” Taylor studied the image closely, checking for any sign of infection or swelling. The flames that emerged from the left side of the round basketball showcased someone’s fine artistic ability. “What on earth possessed you to do this?”
“Everyone on the team got one,” Joi responded, infuriating Taylor even more.
“I don’t care what the team decided to do. You didn’t have my permission to mark your body,” Taylor yelled. “If this is what you’re going to spend your money on, I guess I’ll have to take control of that, too.”
“I don’t see what the big deal is. Nobody’s even gonna see it.”
“You can’t just do what you want to around here. You’re still a child, and until you become an adult and no longer living at 5032 Walnut Street, you have to live by the rules.” Taylor tried her best not to shout. “You can’t just do things behind my back and expect to get away with it.”
Joi threw the phone on her bed and walked to the corner of the room. “Just like you couldn’t get away with keeping Jerome a secret,” she mumbled under her breath as she gathered toiletries from her closet.
“Watch yourself. You’re not too big for me to use a belt,” Taylor said, though Joi knew her mother’s words were a harmless threat.
“Have you spoken to Jerome yet? It’s been a week,” Joi said as she tossed her toiletries in a small purple, plastic basket.
Taylor had not even attempted to contact him, praying that Joi would eventually forget about it. “No, I haven’t. But what I do know is that you’re making your life here more difficult than it has to be. If you want to be on punishment for the rest of the year, so be it. And another thing . . .” Taylor kicked the clothes in the middle of the floor aside. “If you keep this up, you’re gonna find yourself watching your basketball games from the bench.”
“What’s the problem in here, ladies?” Lance said from the doorway, catching both women off guard. “It’s too early for all this commotion.”
Taylor looked at her husband with fire in her eyes. “Your child has a tattoo.”
Lance looked at Joi, disappointment on his face, and she lowered her head. “Go ahead, show him,” urged Taylor. “Your precious angel thinks she can do whatever she wants. What she needs to do is clean up this dirty room. It takes two seconds to put clothes in the hamper,” Taylor said, annoyed at the mess.
Purple basket in hand, Joi stepped away from her closet and rested all of her weight on her right hip. “I didn’t think it was going to cause so much of a problem.”
Taylor grew impatient and lifted Joi’s shirt. “Will you look at this?” she said to Lance.
“Taylor,” Lance said. “Why don’t you let me—”
“You don’t pay attention to me anyway. It’s not like you really care about what I do,” Joi snapped.
“Joi!” Lance yelled in a tone he rarely used, and rushed to stand in between the two females.
“I’ve had about enough of your mouth and nasty attitude,” Taylor replied sharply. “I think missing a few games is what you need. Maybe then you’ll have a change of heart.”
Joi threw her miniature basket on the bed, her body soap and lotion falling on the floor. “You can’t do that, Mother. The team needs me.” Joi looked to Lance for assistance.
“I can, and the team will be fine without you.”
“Tay,” Lance said and reached for his wife’s waist, “let’s talk about this later. Leah is going to be late for dance class.”
“Everything is later with you. You need to deal with her now,” Taylor enforced. She and Lance had agreed not to disagree in front of their children, but she was fed up.
“You’re gonna mess up the team’s balance if I can’t play,” Joi cried.
“Spare me the drama. This wouldn’t be an issue if your grades were better and you hadn’t come home smelling like beer and, God only knows, what else,” Taylor responded.
“I can’t wait to leave this place!” Joi yelled and picked up the fallen objects from the floor. “You might as well put bars on the windows.”
Taylor’s neck snapped. “If this is what your teen years are going to be like, it certainly will be a prison around here, sweetheart.”
Lance had had enough. He grabbed Taylor’s hands and pulled her toward the door. “You’re going to make the other kids nervous with all this chaos.”
“Daddy, can you talk to her?” Joi pleaded. “The team needs me to play.”
Frustrated, Lance looked back at his daughter and said, “Just get ready for work.”
“Things are never fair when it comes to me.” Joi pouted.
“You should have talked to us before—” The tunes of a Chris Brown song coming from Joi’s cell phone interrupted him.
“Don’t even think about answering that,” Taylor said and charged to Joi’s bed to get the phone before she had a chance to. “I’ll hold on to this for a while.”
Joi looked at her father, and he shrugged his shoulders. “I have to agree with your mother on that one. Sorry, Boss.”
“I can’t believe you’re doing this, Mother,” Joi said, obviously devastated. “Can I at least see who called?”
“Not a chance,” Taylor answered, appalled. “And we’ll talk more about that tattoo when I get home tonight.”
Joi folded her arms. “I don’t want to go to work today.”
“Too bad,” Taylor remarked, shocked at her daughter’s boldness. “And that’s non-negotiable. In the meantime, you need to make sure your shirt covers that rising flame on your back.” Taylor stormed past Lance without looking at him and exited Joi’s bedroom.
The twins, who had been standing by their door listening to the argument, pretended to clean their room as she walked by. “One of you, get in the bathroom now!” Taylor yelled.
“But Leah has dance class. She has to go in first,” Dennis replied timidly.
Taylor hesitated and sighed. “Well, somebody needs to get in there soon!” She continued down the hall and slammed her bedroom door behind her, letting out a moan loud enough for everyone in the house to hear. Taylor plopped on her bed so hard, she heard a spring pop. God, please help me! What am I doing wrong?
Taylor’s eyes fell on the family portrait hanging on the wall. That picture was starting to get on her nerves. She got up from the bed and snatched it off the wall then stuffed it in the back of her wardrobe closet. She stayed in the closet, Joi’s cell phone in her hand, and scrolled through her contact list, looking for any unrecognizable names.
“Now you’re violating her privacy?” Lance asked.
Taylor had not heard him enter the room. “There’s no privacy in this house,” she answered. She flipped the cell phone closed and surfed through her clothes for something to wear.
Lance walked inside the tight space, making it difficult for Taylor to view all her options. She looked down, his ashy feet in plain view, and made a mental note to buy more Eucerin. It was the only lotion strong enough for his skin during the fall and winter months.
“I agree that getting the tattoo was wrong,” Lance began, “but there has to be some other way to reprimand her. We can’t keep using basketball as a threat.”
“Then you tell me what to use. Basketball is the only thing she responds to,” Taylor stressed. “If you keep defending Joi, she’s going to run all over you, and we’ll have more than just bad grades and tattoos to worry about.”
Afraid to admit things weren’t going as he had hoped, Lance said, “It’s not going to get to that point. I’ll talk to her this evening and try to get to the bottom of everything.”
Taylor reached for a multi-colored knit sweater she had purchased at Marshalls and grabbed a pair of light denim Calvin Klein jeans. “Communication may have worked for you and your sisters, but not all kids respond to that. What Joi needs is a good lashing.”
Lance knew his wife was upset, so he didn’t press the issue any further. He walked out of the closet and turned on the television.
Clothes in hand, Taylor went through her extensive nail polish collection and chose a color to match her outfit. Next, she opened the closet that housed all of her handbags—Dooney and Bourke, Gucci, Louis Vuitton, and her all-time favorite, Coach. She chose a black leather Via Spiga clutch to match the shoes someone donated to her store, and which she later bought. She gathered her things in her arms and proceeded to the door.
“Before you go, I think we need to pray,” Lance said.
Stubbornly, Taylor looked to the ceiling. She knew it was the right thing to do, but she wasn’t in the mood to pray with her husband.
At the moment, he felt like the enemy. “Tay,” Lance said, “if we don’t seek God for help, there won’t be any peace in this house for a very long time.”
Taylor turned around slowly. She loved that Lance wanted to seek God for guidance, but wished he’d give her some time to get her mind in the right place. She placed her clothes on the bed, and Lance stood to his feet.
“By the way,” he said as he took her hands, “and this is my thinking, not Joi’s. I’d like you to consider giving Joi her phone back.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Taylor remarked.
“I know what you’re thinking, but I’m not taking her side. I just think she needs to have her phone in case of an emergency,” he explained. “She travels to and from the library every day.”
Lance was right, but Taylor didn’t want to admit it. “I didn’t have one at sixteen,” she argued.
“You grew up in a different time. Can we not debate about this right now? We both have a lot to do today.” Lance bowed his head. “Let’s pray.”
Taylor tried to concentrate on her husband’s requests to God, but was distracted by her thoughts. She would give the phone back as her husband asked, but not before Joi understood who the real boss was. Things were about to get a lot tougher for her.
There were about fifty people inside the meeting room at New Life Baptist Church when Taylor walked in. She didn’t like being late to the women’s retreat committee meetings, but she had a lot on her mind. Since Joi found out about Jerome, the relationship between them was even more strained than before. To make matters worse, she wanted to meet him.
Taylor wasn’t prepared, nor was she ready, to open that can of worms. She had promised Jerome that she wouldn’t interfere in his life anymore than she already had. Although Jerome was just as much at fault for the affair, Taylor accepted most of the blame. She knew he was married and forced the relationship anyway. No matter how many times she prayed, Taylor couldn’t shake her guilt.
Taylor spotted her friends in the front of the room. As officers of the planning committee, she and her friends always sat next to the first lady’s table. Sitting in an available chair, she dropped her tote bag on the floor. “Good morning, ladies,” she said, her eyes puffy from the tears she had cried in the parking lot.
“Rough morning?” Sherry asked, noticing the redness of her eyes.
Friends since junior high school, Sherry knew more about Taylor than anyone alive. Taylor thought marriage would change their bond, but their friendship had stood the best and worst of times.
“I had to make sure Joi was ready for work, Leah for dance class, the twins for a weekend at their grandmother’s. I’m shocked I don’t have on one blue and one red shoe.”
“I don’t miss those days,” Kara offered with a grin.
Of the three, Taylor was the only one with school-aged children. Taylor and Kara met as SEPTA drivers for the city of Philadelphia over fifteen years ago. Their friendship was unique in that Kara and her husband were once good friends with Jerome and his wife. The entire situation caused a strain for everyone, and after Joi was born, Kara made the decision to sever all ties with Jerome’s family. It was sad that a long-term friendship had to end. Kara wouldn’t even accept the role of godmother to Joi. And Taylor agreed not to so much as whisper Jerome’s name in her presence.
“It gets harder as they get older,” Taylor said without realizing the sadness in her tone. She took out a notebook with last month’s minutes in them and placed it on the table.
Kara leaned over and touched her hand. “Well, you made it, and there’s still three minutes left before we officially start. The first lady’s not even here yet.”
“Believe it or not, I look forward to these meetings.” Taylor sighed. “This may sound strange, but I actually get to rest when I’m here. There’s no one screaming, ‘Mother, can I have this,’ or ‘Mother, can I do that.’ Or my all-time favorite, ‘Mother, that’s not fair.’ ”
“No one told you to have all those kids,” Sherry teased.
The only one without children, partly because she didn’t marry until the age of forty-two, Sherry believed that babies were raised best when their parents could run after them without gasping for air. Although Sherry did not want to bear children, she claimed Taylor’s as her own.
“If you’re still thinking about adoption, you’ll see what I mean,” Taylor added.
Sherry shook her head and laughed. “I don’t think so. That ship has long sailed off to sea. Watching you and Kara has been plenty enough for me over the years. Between the two of you, I’m good.”
“Well, feel free to come and get your goddaughter whenever you want. Her hormones have kicked in, and I’m about ready to put her out.” Taylor laughed to keep from crying.
With her children well over twenty years of age, Kara had already experienced the “puberty blues.” “This too shall pass.” She chuckled. “It’s just a phase, my dear. Stephanie used to act up, too. More so than the others. She couldn’t wait to get out of the house, and I couldn’t wait to see her go. But when she went away to college, I must have received a letter every week. And we talked on the phone every day.”
“And they’re best friends now,” Sherry noted.
“Trust me when I say it took lots of prayer to get where we are today,” Kara said. “Prayer and Advil. That girl was something else.”
As the ladies continued to share stories about their children, one of the members, dressed in a fancy copper-colored suit, walked across the room and greeted them. Just from looking at her, one could tell that she was a true Southern belle. Having migrated from Georgia, the way she glided across the room was classy and pristine. “Sister Belle, I had to come over and give you a compliment.” Her Southern drawl was slow. “I went to a sorority meeting this morning and almost everyone there commented on my suit. Do you have a business card or something I can hand out at the next meeting? The ladies were enamored with the design.”
Taylor beamed at the possibility of new patrons. She reached into her clutch and pulled out her last ten cards. “Please let them know they’re welcome anytime I’m open.” Taylor took the opportunity to give a sales pitch. “Did you tell them that everything is gently used? I only accept the best. Just because the merchandise is previously owned doesn’t mean it has to be ragged or unusable. Thrift store prices without the thrift store appearance is my motto.”
“How long have you been around?” the sixty-something woman asked.
“Since my sixteen-year-old was in the womb.”
“That long? Are you only located in Chestnut Hill?”
“Yes,” Taylor replied, “I only have one store.”
“You’re sitting on a goldmine, Sister Belle. You should really consider opening a store in South Philly. I think you’d get much more business out there.”
That goldmine remark sounded good to Taylor.
The lady dug in her purse and pulled out a business card. “Here’s the name of a really good realtor. You should give her a call. She belongs to Sharon Baptist over near West Philly, but she knows a lot about commercial buildings downtown.”
Years ago, Taylor considered opening a second shop, but her mother-in-law suggested she wait. The twins were only three years old at the time, and Gram had convinced Taylor to believe that adding another responsibility would be too much to handle. Hoping to gain Gram’s love and remain on her good side, she agreed.
“Thank you,” Taylor said. “I really appreciate your kind words and your support.”
“Step out on faith,” the Georgia peach replied and strolled back to her seat.
The light rumblings and side conversations in the room came to a lull when the first lady walked in with a posse of female deacons. Gracefully, First Lady Robinson passed by the tables, greeting the members within range and waving to those she couldn’t physically touch. Her cocoa skin looked flawless, and no matter what the situation, she always had an aura of peace surrounding her. “Good morning, ladies,” she said, her voice raspy from a recent cold. “Sorry I’m late. My house was a little hectic this morning.”
“No problem. We’re all enjoying this fellowship,” Sherry assured her.
“That’s good to hear,” the first lady responded. “Kara, do you have a minute to look over some figures before we begin?”
“I sure do,” Kara answered and left the table.
Taylor watched them converse and tried to recall a time when her life was at peace. For the most part, her life had been filled with extreme emotional highs and lows—no in-betweens. Oddly enough, the one time she felt most at peace was after her car accident seventeen years ago. She was restricted to a hospital bed for over a week, suffering a broken leg and other minor bruises. The days she spent lying in the bed soothed her spirit. It was hard to explain, but she knew that God had touched her.
Just a year after the accident, Taylor joined New Life, started her own business, and had a baby. She’d been running non-stop ever since.
“You don’t look like yourself, diva. What’s up?” Sherry asked Taylor.
Taylor inched her chair closer to her best friend and quietly gave her a summary of the events that had transpired since they last talked.
As always, Sherry listened carefully. “You’re better than me,” she said when Taylor was done. “You let Jerome off way too easy. Always did. Call him! Let him explain himself for a change. He can’t have my godbaby all upset.”
“Your godbaby is too grown,” Taylor said. “Besides, Jerome is doing the best he can, considering—”
“Considering what?” Sherry interrupted. “Don’t give me the husband, father and poor old Renee scenario. He and Renee have been together long enough to handle this, and his kids are old enough to understand what happened.”
Sherry was right, but Taylor felt the need to defend him. “He hasn’t missed sending a check since I told him I was pregnant.”
“You sound like he’s doing you a favor. Money isn’t the only way to raise a child.”
“But it sure helps.”
“You need to stop this madness and call him,” Sherry said bluntly.
“I can’t just spring Joi on him.”
“You’re not. Joi isn’t a secret to him. Let him figure out how to tell his family. Joi is upset, and this isn’t fair to her,” Sherry said. “She wants to know who he is, and she has that right.”
Knowing it was a weak excuse, Taylor said, “I don’t know how to reach him in Chicago.”
“His family is in Philly,” Sherry snapped. “I’m sure Kara knows how to find him.”
“You know she’s not giving up his number, and I’m not gonna ask for it,” Taylor said quietly.
Sherry sighed. “Then hop on over to his brother’s house. He still lives in Yeadon, doesn’t he?”
“I think so, but I can’t get Brandon involved.”
Sherry sucked her teeth. “You’re too nice.”
Taylor glossed over last month’s meeting notes. With so many things already on her plate, this was something she definitely didn’t want to deal with. “I know God doesn’t give more than we can handle, but I feel like this is my fault. I feel like an avalanche is coming.” Taylor scribbled on the piece of paper in front of her. “It’s even starting to mess with my marriage.”
“I’m not a minister like Kara, but I do know that God wouldn’t punish you for something you did so many years ago. How does that saying go? He washes our sins away and makes us clean as snow. Something like that. You know what I mean.”
Taylor smiled. She could always count on her friend for a good laugh. “But seriously,” Sherry continued, “you’re punishing yourself too much. If this is eating you up, do something about it. Calling Jerome gets my vote.”
“What’s going on?” Kara asked when she returned to the table. From the look on their faces, she could tell something was wrong.
Taylor knew she couldn’t tell Kara the truth, so she said, “Thanksgiving at the in-laws this year.”
“Really? That’s not so bad, is it? It would give you a break.”
Always the one to give the women a reality check, Sherry spoke up, “Now you know the Belle women are still mad at Tay because of the wedding.”
Recalling the day Taylor and Lance exchanged nuptials, the friends tumbled over in laughter.
Initially, Lance’s mother and his sisters were in charge of planning a traditional church wedding. After months of making decisions and attending meetings, Taylor decided that the process was too overwhelming. There was too much to do for a bunch of people she barely knew or never met. The only relatives she had at the time were her father’s second family, and she wasn’t that close to them at all.
One night during an argument over the guest list, Taylor exploded and called off the extravaganza. After a heated discussion with her then fiancé, Lance, they agreed that they should exchange vows in a more intimate setting. Together they chose a secluded island in Jamaica. There were to be no bridesmaids, no groomsmen, no expensive dresses, and no huge reception. Just close family and friends coming together to celebrate Taylor and Lance’s union. But much to Taylor’s surprise, her soon-to-be in-laws showed up at the ceremony wearing matching lavender gowns and sequin sandals, and insisted they be escorted down the aisle.
Taylor put her foot down when Gizelle, the youngest sister, asked if they could stand behind Lance during the ritual. To this day, any mention of the wedding was followed by a frown.
“Good morning, and sorry for the delay. I think we’re ready to get started,” a deaconess said from the front of the room, and the ladies controlled their snickers. “But first, let’s open with a word of prayer.”
As the deaconess prayed, Taylor replayed the conversation she had with Sherry. Contacting Jerome made sense, but there was no way it was going to happen. Taylor refused to interfere in his life again. Jerome had rejected her one too many times. She wasn’t about to let him reject their daughter. Joi had a tough exterior, but her heart was fragile. If Taylor could do nothing else, she wanted to protect Joi’s heart.
From the moment Taylor laid eyes on her firstborn, all of the bad things in her life seemed to disappear. When the nurse placed Joi in her arms for the first time and her tiny eyes opened, nothing but joy filled Taylor’s spirit. She had prayed that Joi would bring peace and happiness to the lives of everyone she encountered. Though it didn’t feel like it lately, Taylor believed that Joi would one day live up to her God-given name.