Chapter Twenty-Four
Taylor and Collette stood in front of an empty downtown building, drinking hot chocolate. It was New Year’s Eve, and as Taylor waited for Lance to arrive, she envisioned all the ways God was going to bless her in the New Year.
Collette shared interesting details about the neighborhood, trying to convince her that the property was situated in a prime location. But Taylor didn’t need much convincing. This was her third visit, so she was already impressed. She wanted to hear Lance’s opinion. They had been at odds too long, and she hoped this could be something that they’d commit to together.
Taylor took a sip of her hot chocolate, and it singed the tip of her tongue. While she waited for her drink to cool off, she was about to call her husband, but spotted him walking down the sidewalk. And he wasn’t alone. Gizelle walked closely beside him, her mouth moving nonstop.
Taylor sighed and prayed Gizelle’s presence wouldn’t ruin the morning. No matter what Gizelle said today, Taylor was determined not to get upset. Lance had taken out time to view a potential property with her, something she usually did alone, and that was a sign that they were headed in the right direction.
Gizelle spoke to Taylor then introduced herself to Collette. “I used to work down here,” Gizelle told Taylor, her demeanor mysteriously pleasant. “A lot of people travel down this street.”
Lance placed his arm around his wife and whispered in her ear, “Sorry I didn’t let you know she was coming. By the time we left Costco, it was too late to take her home first.”
“No problem,” Taylor replied. “I’m just happy you’re here.”
“Shall we go in?” Collette used her special code to retrieve the key from the lockbox, then used it to open the front door. “Taylor’s been here twice already, but please take all the time you need. I’ll be in the Starbucks across the street when you’re ready.”
The property was huge, leaving room for a number of possibilities. A firm believer in Habakkuk 2:2-3, Taylor had written her vision for a second shop in a small tablet she kept in her purse. She liked to keep it close to remind her that her dream was going to happen in due time. There would need to be some work done to meet all of the criteria on her list, but the space was a near-exact match to her vision.
“So, what do you think?” Taylor asked Lance after she gave him a tour.
Gizelle spoke out of turn, “This is nice, but I thought you were going to wait.”
Taylor was too excited to let Gizelle get under her skin. “The selling price isn’t too far off what I wanted,” she noted. “This place is perfect. There’s a secluded spot for a personal shopper service and a small break-room for my employees. I can have a private office, and there are real dressing rooms in the back, not the kind I have at the other store, with a curtain for a door.”
Gizelle walked around as if she were a licensed building inspector. “A place in this location and of this size must be expensive.”
“What’s the selling price?” Lance finally said.
Taylor wasn’t sure if she should answer in front of her sister-in-law. She didn’t want Gizelle’s negativity to cloud his judgment. She moved closer to Lance and in a faint voice said, “Low five hundreds.”
“Five hundreds? That’s not bad for this area,” Gizelle said, her hearing better than Taylor expected. “But can you afford that?”
Taylor’s left brow arched. Who was talking to her? Gizelle acted as if money was coming directly out of her pocket. Taylor looked inside her purse and pulled out a stick of gum. It was all she could do to keep from telling Gizelle to mind her business.
“I’m sure Tay has thought of all her options,” Lance replied and looked at his wife.
“I have, and we’ll talk about them at a different time,” she assured him to quiet Gizelle, although it wasn’t completely true. Taylor had only seriously considered one option: a loan.
“And this is your third time here, correct?” Gizelle asked. “That means you’re ready to buy it, huh?”
Taylor ignored her. “Can you get the camera from the car, Lance? I forgot to take pictures the last time I came.”
Lance left the building, and no sooner had he closed the door than Gizelle’s mood shifted. “Nice place, but are you sure it’s the right time to invest in a project this huge?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Taylor said, desperately holding on to her patience.
“Have you noticed that Joi is getting older and . . .” Gizelle stood by the front door, “more mature?”
Of course Taylor had noticed her daughter’s sprouting breasts and plump hips. Not long after Joi’s attitude changed, her slender physique disappeared. Taylor took a deep breath and silently recited words she shouldn’t have. “Just spit out whatever you have to say, Gizelle.”
“I hate to bring this up,” Gizelle said. “You know I love Joi, but the night she stayed at my house, I overheard her telling Rayven something about birth control pills. She may not be a virgin anymore.”
Taylor almost swallowed her gum. “If you don’t have proof that she’s having . . .” Taylor couldn’t bring herself to say the word aloud. “If you can’t prove it, then I suggest you not accuse my child of anything,” Taylor snapped, trying to hide signs of worry.
“You need to be with her more, especially now that she’s into boys,” Gizelle offered, but her parenting advice fell on deaf ears.
Taylor looked out one of the smaller windows and tuned Gizelle out. Where was Lance with the camera? As Gizelle rambled on, something Linda said about Joi a while ago crossed Taylor’s mind, and she made a mental note to give her a call.
“Look, there’s no need to take offense. I’m just concerned about my niece,” Gizelle said when she realized Taylor wasn’t paying attention.
“You need to be more concerned about your own children,” Taylor remarked.
Gizelle placed her hand on her hip and rolled her eyes. “Meaning?”
“Meaning, your boys aren’t perfect. Before you throw stones at my house, you need to—”
Lance returned with the camera before Taylor could finish her statement.
Glad to see him, Taylor tried to take the camera from his hands. “I can take the pictures, Lance. You and Gizelle should probably head back. I’m sure she has plenty to do for her party tonight.”
Clearly upset, Gizelle glared at Taylor. Every year after the New Year’s Eve service, she hosted a party for family and friends, and every year the attendance grew in number. “She’s right,” Gizelle told her brother. “I think it’s time for me to go.”
“I’ll only be a few minutes,” Lance said. “Besides, you take horrible pictures, baby.”
Taylor was too upset to laugh at his corny joke. She leaned against the wall, and Gizelle stared out the large window as Lance played the role of a professional photographer.
When he went into the back of the store, Taylor followed him. She refused to be alone with Gizelle again.
“So what do you think?” Taylor asked.
“It’s not bad.” Lance took one last picture then put the camera back in its case. “But I hope you aren’t getting a loan.”
“I’ll get money for the down payment,” Taylor replied. “I may only need to get a small loan. I should be able to pay it off in two to three years.”
Lance sighed. He wasn’t in favor of a loan in any amount. “You know how I feel about loans. I know you really want another store, but I can’t help you out. I put a lot into Gram’s house, and you want me to renovate ours—”
“So you are planning to fix the house,” Taylor replied, her tone bordering sarcasm. She wanted Lance to be supportive, not discouraging. “I haven’t asked you for any money. God will make a way for this to happen.” Annoyed, Taylor buttoned her coat. “Let’s just get Collette so we can leave,” she said before Lance spout words she didn’t want to hear. It would’ve hurt her heart if he told her to give up on her dream.
Taylor walked back to the front of the store. Gizelle was in the same position, this time with a simple smirk on her face. Taylor turned her back to Gizelle then pulled her cell phone from her purse and called Collette. “We’re ready,” she told her.
Gizelle walked over to Taylor and pat her shoulder. “Something more affordable will come along.”
“I haven’t given up on this one yet,” she confirmed.
Lance gave Taylor a kiss on the cheek. “I’m going to take Gizelle home then pick up the kids from Gram’s. I’ll be home after that. We need to be to church at six, right?”
“Five-thirty,” Taylor corrected.
As Lance, and Gizelle’s paths crossed Collette’s, Taylor closed her eyes and prayed. “For the vision is yet for an appointed time. Though it tarry, wait for it, for it will surely come.”
Taylor sat in the sanctuary, longing for a word from God. The year had been challenging on many levels, and she was ready for a new season to begin. She closed her eyes as the children’s ministry blessed the congregation with their voices. She didn’t notice that Leah had stepped to the front of the pulpit.
Seated behind her, Gram tapped Taylor’s shoulder. “Is Leah singing a solo?”
Taylor’s eyes popped open. She didn’t know Leah’s voice was strong enough for a solo. “This is news to me,” she told Gram and turned to Joi. “Did you know about this?”
“She wanted to surprise everyone,” Joi said and smiled.
The choir began singing “Now Behold the Lamb” by Kirk Franklin, and Leah proceeded to the area designed for the praise dancers. Taylor was confused. What was Leah about to do?
As the choir sang, Leah slowly came out of her choir robe and emerged in a beautiful white dress. With grace and elegance, She performed a dance selection without error. Taylor cried. Dance was something she never had a chance to do as a child. Although Leah had been in dance school since she was eight, Taylor thought she was pretending to enjoy it to make her happy. But as she watched Leah minister to the congregation through her movements, Taylor realized her daughter was gifted.
When the performance was over, the church members stood on their feet, many crying tears of joy, others praising God with a dance of their own.
When the energy in the sanctuary settled, the pastor stood in front of the podium and began his sermon. “No matter how old you are, everyone has a dream.”
The pastor’s words excited many of the members. Like Taylor, many of them were waiting for their dreams to manifest. Taylor listened intently as the pastor quoted verses from Genesis, highlighting stages of Joseph’s life. “You need to verbalize your dream,” the pastor said, “but be careful and beware of dream killers.”
Immediately Taylor thought about the Belle women and the negative words they dropped into her spirit. Taylor studied her children and wondered what dreams dwelled inside of them. She prayed she’d never discourage them.
“For many of you,” the pastor stated, wrapping up his sermon, “your dream is ready, but you’re not ready for your dream. It could be that your attitude’s not right, you can’t manage money, you don’t pray, or you have a poor work ethic. Whatever is holding back your dream, I pray this is the year God gets you ready. This is the year your dream will come to pass!” the pastor shouted.
Taylor jumped to her feet. “This is the year my dream will come to pass!” Taylor repeated, and in her heart she believed it to be true.
On the third day of the New Year, Taylor finally had a chance to reflect on her plans. With the exception of Leah, the kids were back in school, and she had taken a week off from work. She lay across her bed holding the phone. She needed to give Collette an answer about the downtown property soon. Someone else had expressed an interest in it, too.
Taylor stared at her financial statements one last time. No matter how she moved things around, there was no way she could come up with the down payment. She picked up the papers for Joi’s college account. The money Jerome had sent through the years had accumulated to a substantial amount. Taylor was tempted to withdraw from that account, convincing herself that she would eventually return the money. But what if something happened and she couldn’t? She’d never be able to forgive herself. And how would she explain that to Joi?
Taylor called Collette and relayed the information then got dressed.
Leah, who attended a specialized private school that started and ended a week later than most schools, walked into Taylor’s bedroom. “What time are we going to the women’s shelter?”
“I’ll be ready in ten minutes,” Taylor said, stuffing into a pair of black jeans as Leah strut around the room in her mother’s Via Spiga heels. “I know you better get out of my good boots before you break my heel.” She chuckled. “Do you know how much I paid for those?”
Leah giggled as she took off the boots. “Daddy bought these for you.”
“Well, his money is my money, too,” Taylor responded as she searched for her brown scarf.
Leah picked up the family picture leaning against the wall on the floor. Taylor had replaced it with a Georgia O’Keeffe painting. “Why did you take this down?”
“Your father’s going to paint soon,” Taylor said, although it didn’t explain why the other pictures were still hanging on the wall. She pulled out her drawer of scarves and dumped them on the bed. “Have you seen my brown and gold silk scarf? The one with the Coach symbols on them?”
“Joi wore it yesterday,” Leah answered.
Taylor didn’t normally allow Joi to wear her clothes. She wasn’t as particular about clothes as Leah, but Taylor thought sharing some of her clothes would eventually influence Joi to change her style. Taylor walked down the hall and into Joi’s room.
Leah ran behind her mother and immediately opened the jewelry box Taylor had given Joi a few years ago. “Don’t take anything out of there, Leah. You know how Joi is about the items in that box,” Taylor said as she scanned Joi’s dresser.
“This is Jerome’s family?” Leah asked, referring to pictures inside the box.
Taylor glanced at the photographs and nodded. She walked to Joi’s bed and fumbled through the miscellaneous items around the floor, trying not to be invasive. She picked up Joi’s backpack, thinking the scarf might be beneath it. As she lifted the bag, she saw a pamphlet on birth control sticking out of the mattress. Oh God, Gizelle was right.
Leah yelled, “I found it!” and inspected the scarf carefully. “There aren’t any stains, but it smells like French fries.”
“Okay, let’s go,” Taylor said, trying to rush out of the room.
“What’s that?” Leah asked, pointing to the pamphlet in Taylor’s hand.
“Nothing. Just some of Joi’s school stuff,” Taylor responded and folded the paper in half. “Let’s go.”
With Leah standing so close, Taylor couldn’t think straight. She knew that girls Joi’s age were having sex. That didn’t shock her. She had been guilty of that, too. But she couldn’t believe Joi was that serious about someone. Basketball had always been her primary focus.
After taking the scarf from Leah’s hand, Taylor tied it loosely around her neck. It was time for her to have a serious conversation with Joi about boys and sex.
Taylor dropped the clothes off at the women’s shelter then took Leah to Gram’s. Afterward, she headed to the library to find Joi. She was supposed to be there researching information for an English paper. Taylor turned into the library’s garage and parked near the elevator. She jumped out of the car and took the elevator to the second floor.
After Taylor circled the area where Joi should’ve been, she wondered if Joi had come to the library at all. Before she became angry and assumed her child was up to no good, she rushed into the hallway and discreetly dialed Joi’s cell. It went straight to voicemail.
Twisting her lips in varying ways, Taylor sketched out a plan of action in her head. She took the elevator down to the cafeteria and combed each section from front to back. Joi was nowhere to be found.
Before panic set in, she called Joi’s cell again. It still went to voicemail, and this time she left a message.
Taylor went back to the main lobby and paced the floor. The library was too big to search, but she felt the need to try. She pulled out an old picture and scoured each floor, asking people if they recognized her daughter.
After many unsuccessful queries, Taylor decided to leave. Back in the main lobby, she stood in the middle, slowly turning in circles. She called Lance, and he advised her to come home. On her way out the door, she was moved to ask one more person.
“By any chance, have you seen this teenage girl?” Taylor asked the guard on duty.
The guard didn’t need to stare at the photograph. “She plays ball, right? She wears a varsity jacket sometimes?”
Taylor nodded yes.
“Nice girl. I’ve seen her, but not today.”
Taylor was about to leave.
“You should probably check with her study partner. He was here about an hour ago.”
He? “Can you describe him?” Taylor asked. “I want to make sure we’re talking about the same boy.”
The guard described the mystery boy in great detail then noted the scowl on Taylor’s face. “Is she all right?” the guard asked, now concerned.
“Not once I get a hold of her,” Taylor exclaimed. “Thanks for your help.” Taylor rushed to the parking garage and tried Joi’s cell again. Still no answer. She turned on the car and remembered that she hadn’t spoken to Linda like she had planned to.
She dialed the store, and when Linda answered, said, “I hate to place you in the middle of my family affairs, but do you know anything about Joi’s boyfriend? And please, Linda, be honest with me.”
For the next ten minutes, Linda told Taylor everything she knew about Markus.
Taylor was so upset and nervous that she cried into the phone. She pulled herself together when the call ended, and before exiting the garage, she decided to call Joi’s best friend. “Hi, Ray. I’m looking for Joi. Is she there?”
Rayven hesitated. “She’s at the library.”
“I’m at the library, Rayven. Now tell me the truth.”
“Oh, she must be on her way here then. We’re working on a project together.”
“Another project? Then why aren’t you with her now?”
“I um . . . had to finish a um . . . history paper and um . . .” Rayven muttered.
“And why isn’t she answering her cell?”
“She has to be on her way here, Mrs. B. Reception on the El is bad sometimes and—”
“Don’t cover for her, Ray.” Taylor practically yelled into the phone. “Where is she?” Taylor demanded.
“She should be here soon,” Rayven pleaded.
“Unless you want me to involve your mother, I suggest you tell me where I can find her,” Taylor threatened. “And I know about Markus.”
Rayven was silent.
“Yes, Ray. I know about her college boyfriend. Is she with him?”
“No, she’s on her way here,” Rayven insisted.
Taylor knew she was lying, but had to give Rayven credit. She was a good friend. Most teenagers would’ve squealed by now.
“I’ll tell her to call you when she gets here,” she said.
“Don’t bother. Tell her to hightail it home. I’ll be waiting.” Taylor pulled out of the garage and asked God to keep her from hurting her child.