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“Ladies, please get to your classrooms. People will be arriving soon.”
May’s face blanched at the sound of Reverend Walker’s voice coming from behind her. Bebe nodded in assent, toounnerved to speak. How much of their conversation had he heard?
“Is he gone?” May met her eyes, whispering the question.
“Yes.”
Her friend slapped her arm before glancing around to verify the pastor was truly gone. “Why didn’t you keep me from gossiping? You know the Rev walks the hallways looking for sinners.”
Bebe chuckled. “I tried to remind you where we are.”
“Hmm, likely story.” May raised her mug in the air. “See you after service.”
“Lunch at my place?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
Bebe headed down the hallway toward the five- and six-year-olds’ room. Ever since she had Hope, being around children brightened her day. Well, really her whole week, since she taught kindergarten at Peachwood Bay Elementary. It seemed only natural to agree to be a Sunday school teacher for the church.
The classroom stood empty. She walked in, setting her cup of coffee on the front table.I beat the parents. ThankYou, Lord.The children’s tables were already covered with their morning warm-up activity of coloring. She’d set that up before getting something to drink. Today’s lesson would focus on the star of Bethlehem that led the shepherds to the newborn Savior. Bebe inhaled as she thought of the coming Christmas season. This was her absolute favorite time of year. Nothing could bring her more joy than the birth of Christ.
Her thoughts drifted to Hope. Her darling daughter had been born on Christmas Eve, despite the fact that her due date wasn’t until the first week of January. Bebe had gone into labor after catching her husband having a little too much holiday cheer with his coworker. Once upon a time, the memory would have dredged up pain and heartache. Now her heartrate didn’t even change. Maybe it was a sign her prayers to forgive him were finally being answered.
As much as she had loathed Will at one time, Bebe could never regret the birth of her daughter. The only resentment she still struggled with was his current treatment of Hope. Like she wasn’t worthy of his attention except for once a year at Christmastime.
Any day now, he’d mail Hope an early birthday card with money for her special day and Christmas. He never bothered to buy her a gift or even find out what she liked. Bebe shook her head, trying to lose the thoughts that threatened to drag her down. She would not let her mind spiral again. She’d place a smile on her face and greet each kid by name and remember the joy this season brought.
Her mind wondered back to Jahleel Walker. Would he still be at his parents’ place once Christmas was over? And why did her heart quake at the idea?
Silence.
Jahleel sighed in bliss. His mother had hovered around him all yesterday evening, while his father glowered from his throne, the leather recliner he favored. He couldn’t take the dichotomy between the two behaviors. But what else did he expect? His parents had been doing the same routine for thirty-two years now.
Jahleel snorted. This Christmas had the potential to be the worst one of his adulthood. Normally he’d throw a big bash, sparing no expense. His personal assistant would ensure a well-decorated tree graced his living room, perfectly situated in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows in his Texas home. All the guys from the team would show up with their plus-ones, and his current girlfriend would be in awe at the splendor.
Only this year was coming upwayshort. Jasmine had broken up with him in October. She’d apparently fallen in love with the Houston Rockets’ starting point guard. If that wasn’t bad enough, he’d found himself laid up and trapped back in his hometown. He couldn’t do much but stare at the four walls of the house he’d been raised in.
He had offered to buy his parents a new place, but they had refused—most likely his father’s objections. No matter how much money Jay made over the years, his father never accepted any monetary blessing from him. Obadiah Walker insisted on living below his means, as if the Lord would favor him more because of it.
Jahleel grunted. Being alone with his thoughts disturbed him. There was no escape. He never thought he’d return home, especially with an injury. Now he was beholden to the man who’d run him out in the first place.
“No son of mineis going to play football for a living. You shouldbe glorifying God with a godly career,” his father thundered.
“And how is using the talent God gave me ungodly?”
“You’ll turn away from Jesus following this pursuit.”
Jahleel winced. He hadn’t turned away from his faith, but he certainly hadn’t practiced it the way he used to.
Please forgive me.
His body practically vibrated with restlessness. Jahleel looked at his bookshelf, where his high school football rested. He’d caught three touchdown passes with that ball during his senior year homecoming game, leading the team to a win.
Gritting his teeth, he swung his right leg over the bed, the brace keeping it straight. If he could stand on his right foot and grab the football, he’d have some assurance that recovery was possible. That he could come back full-time to the sport he loved.
On a nod, he stood.
Pain shot from his knee, clawing against his skin.Bad mistake.
