ICHANGED INTOa completely boring navy blue pantsuit and a white blouse. Something I’d wear not only to my private practice but to the jail. Jazz’s comment? “Yeah. That’ll work.”
I had to practically force him to get inside the Love Bug. “I hate this car.”
“It’smy car. You don’t have to get attached to it.”
“Yeah, but I have to ride in it. It’s yellow, Bell.”
“You like the yellow walls in my apartment. You said they’re soothing.”
“But a Love Bug isn’t soothing. I feel silly in this car.”
“It’s soothing to me. Just get in, Jazz.”
He finally did——with an attitude.
I breathed a sigh of relief. One challenge handled. Unfortunately, the next would be how to tell Jazz that he and I, andRocky, would be going to see my fertility doctor together. One big, happy family.
“Where are we going?”
“I have to stop at my church first.”
“The Rock House?”
“That’s my church.”
“You’re going to go see yourboyfriend ?”
“Stop calling him that. Everybody knows Rocky and I are no longer an item. I don’t have a boyfriend.”
He didn’t correct me by sayinghe was my boyfriend. I plotted to take him to several high-profile places in the Love Bug as punishment.
After much complaining and pouting on Jazz’s part, we got to the Rock House. Jazz shot out of my vehicle like it was about to explode. Honestly, it was a fully loaded new Beetle, not an old busted-up hippie car. Why he had such an adverse reaction to it boggled my mind.
He walked briskly to the front door of the building; I had to hustle to keep up with him. “Is he even here?” Jazz asked.
“He’s the pastor. He does show up now and then.”
“And who made him a pastor, anyway?”
“Try God. Might I add, he’s great in this ministry.”
Jazz grumbled, “That better be all he’s great in.”
“Your jealousy is ridiculous. And it’s even worse than before. What is wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me? Try being up for a murder rap. Surely that gives ol’ puppy eyes the competitive edge for your affections.”
I shook my head. “Ol’ puppy eyes isn’t pursuing me.” He wasn’t, really. I mean, maybe a comment here and there…“And green isn’t your color, Jazz. Your jealousy was cute at first, but now it’s annoying.” I fished around in my purse for my keys.
“You’ve got a key to your church?”
“That’s a privilege of being the pastor’s girlfriend.” I looked at him. He’d turned red-faced, and not because of the cold. “I just said that to mess with you.”
“You ain’t right, Bell.”
“But you love me anyway.”
“Whateva.”
I put my key in the door, opened it, and could hear the music coming from the sanctuary. “Switchfoot. Rock’s favorite.”
Jazz rolled his eyes.
We walked down the corridor that led to the sanctuary, past a welcome center with brochures and free booklets and metal racks filled with bread from Food Gatherers for anybody to take.
As we reached the door, the last riffs of “Stars” wailed from Rocky’s electric guitar. I smiled before I opened the door, knowing that this favorite song of Rocky’s would have him jumping up and down. He’d be singing with all the skill and passion of Switchfoot’s front man, Jon Foreman, whether he had an audience or not. But the moment he finished, without a pause, he went right into another song. A song I hadn’t heard in a long time. I had a visceral reaction to it. I stopped cold.
Why is he playing that song?
Before I had time to check my reaction, I swung the door open, and there was Rocky, guitar in his hands, rockin’ away. Elisa St. James——the sweet, pretty, green-eyed sistah who’d saved me from certain death in the last case I’d worked on with Jazz——sat in front of him, engrossed in his performance, which was apparently for her alone.
Well, not for her alone. Elisa was now seven months pregnant, and Rocky’s head was bent, singing his heart out to Elisa’s pregnant belly——or rather, its inhabitant. Rocky was serenading her withmy favorite childhood comfort song, but the special rock-and-roll version he’d arranged for the baby we thought I’d have with him. He’d gifted me with it when he and I were in love and he’d asked me to be his wife and have his children. This was before he knew I wouldn’t be able to have a tribe of little Rocks like he wanted. Before either of us knew that, ultimately, that would be the reason we’d break up.
Hush-a-bye don’t you cry
Go to sleep-y little baby
When you wake, you shall have
All the pretty little horses.
I felt like someone had kicked me in the stomach. My breath caught in my chest.
Jazz’s hand went to my back. “Are you all right?”
But I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t tear my eyes off Rocky and Elisa, she looking at him with absolute delight on her face, he looking at her as if seeing her for the first time, then turning his attention to sing to her babe within.
They’re falling in love. He’s singing her babymybaby’s song. The baby I never …the baby I’ll never…I swallowed hard. A tiny “Oh…” escaped my mouth.
“Bell?” Jazz whispered in my ear. He tried to pull me away from the door but didn’t succeed before Rocky saw us. He finished the song with aplomb.
“Babe,” he said, smiling. “I hope you don’t mind. It’s the only lullaby I know. I wanted to sing to Elisa’s baby.”
Elisa’s head spun around to look at me. She looked like I’d caught her kissing my boyfriend behind the bleachers during prom.
I couldn’t say a word, just stood there with a smile pasted on my face. Mortified.
“You ready to go, babe?” Rocky asked, totally oblivious to my pain.
Elisa’s face fell. I don’t think she could have hidden her disappointment if she’d wanted to. “Are you and Bell going somewhere?”
“I’m going with her to see her”——he censored himself——“doctor.” He looked Jazz over. “At least I thought I was.”
Jazz didn’t miss a beat. “Actually, Rocky, Bell came by to tell you that we don’t need you. I’m taking her. You can stay here and keep doing what you’re doing. You kids have fun.”
Rocky looked confused. “Are you sure, babe?” His brown eyes said, “Didn’t he just kill somebody?”
All I managed was a hoarse “Don’t call me babe.” Somehow, saying it to him that time filled me with a sadness that I thought would kill me.
Babe.Soon I wouldn’t ever have to ask him not to call me that. He’d call Elisa his babe. He’d call the fatherless child——this one he would surely step in to raise——his babe, just as sure as he’d sung a lullaby to it. It all fit together. I could see God’s plan working out. Elisa needed someone to love, and so did Rocky. I just wished it didn’t leave me feeling so bereft of hope.
I closed my eyes. My legs trembled, and my eyes pooled with tears.
Rocky put down his guitar. “Are you okay? Are you sure you want to go with him?”
I nodded. “I’m sure, Rocky.”
Rocky didn’t looked convinced. “Why do you look so upset, babe?”
He could be so naive at times. Again, lamely, “Don’t call me babe.”
Jazz got busy. “We had a littlelover’s quarrel this morning.” “Lover” was emphasized just to torment Rocky, who remained oblivious to Jazz’s implication. “She’s still salty with me.” Jazz grabbed my hand and pulled me to him. Touched my cheek. Looked in my eyes with so much love. “I’m so sorry, Bell.” He didn’t mean our argument at all, bless him.
A tear fell down my face. He wiped it away. “Aw, baby. Look at you. It’ll be all right.” Jazz looked at me, then at Rocky. “I’d better get her out of here.”
Rocky moved toward me, but Jazz stood between us, rolling his shoulders back, ready to rumble, no doubt. “I’ll take care of her, Rocky. Why don’t you just enjoy what you were doing with Elisa?”
Rocky grabbed my wrist, but it was Jazz he spoke to. He spoke softly, but his eyes were serious. He wasn’t good at being a lion, but he tried. “I don’t think I want her to go with you, man.”
“I think you’d better let her go,man. ”
Rocky held fast to my wrist, even though I knew he saw Jazz as a threat. “Babe?”
I gently pulled my arm out of Rocky’s grasp. “Jazz is right. You and Elisa looked like you were having fun. And Jazz is——”
“Innocent until proven guilty in a court of law,” Jazz said. He whisked me out the door and down the corridor.
“Don’t look back,” he whispered. “Just act like you really want to go with me.”
I didn’t need to act. Idid want to go with him. I wanted to go with him to wherever he wanted to take me. I didn’t care at the moment what he’d been accused of.
I heard Rocky’s voice calling behind us, “Babe, wait.”
Jazz returned his call. “Rocky, don’t call her babe.”
He took my hand and led me to the sanctuary of my happy yellow car. He didn’t even complain about getting in.