“I must be talking your ear off,” John said when they were almost finished with their meal.

  John and Kennedy were having taco salad while Lisa ate another bowl of soup. She held up a hand, then wrote on her notepad, I LOVE LISTENING TO YOU TALK.

  John blushed as he read her comment. “You don’t have to say that.”

  Lisa went back to her notepad. IT’S TRUE. I WISH I HAD LISTENED TO YOU MORE. PLEASE KEEP TALKING. Lisa felt as if she was finally getting to know her husband, even though they had been married more than twenty years.

  Kennedy stood. “I feel like I’m in the middle of a personal conversation, so I’m going to leave you two alone.”

  “Realizing your parents are people, too, huh?” John joked with Kennedy.

  “Yeah, and I don’t need to know any more, thank you.”

  John and Lisa laughed as Kennedy rushed out of the dining room. Then John said, “I really think she was bored. I mean, how much can she take? She is stuck in this house with two old fogies.”

  WE’RE NOT OLD, Lisa wrote on her notepad and then showed it to John.

  He shook his head. “No, we’re not old. I don’t even know why I said that. Kennedy should be honored to sit with us.”

  Then John’s eyes bored into hers, and Lisa felt the heat between them.

  “But to be honest, I like being with you. Maybe I can talk Kennedy into cleaning up the kitchen and then we can go to our room and watch a movie.”

  The way he was looking at her, like he was hungry for her, Lisa knew he had more on his mind than a movie. It had been a while, and with her new reality, she wasn’t sure if she was comfortable with what he wanted. Nonetheless, she needed his closeness, so she let him take her to their room.

  * * *

  Days seemed to turn into months as Lisa continued to rehab her mind, body, and soul. She was practicing her words more and was feeling more strength in her arm. Her left leg continued to be weak, even after six months of rehab.

  Lisa was still reading her Bible and finding new scriptures to soften her heart. Like Romans 8:28: “And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.”

  Lisa grabbed hold of this scripture, believing God would somehow find a way to use everything that had occurred in her life for His glory. God was good, and she was amazed at how she had fallen in love with her Savior and her husband all over again.

  She had also been writing in her journal, which mostly included her reflections on the things that had brought her to this moment in her life. It started off with angry notes of how she felt everything started going wrong in her life.

  She spent a year writing her thoughts and feeling all the feels. Then a funny thing happened as she spent more time with God and her family: Lisa became honest with herself. She admitted that at one point in her life she regretted the prayers she’d prayed for Dana. God had obviously answered her prayers, and she didn’t think Dana deserved it.

  But then one day she picked up her journal and wrote . . .

  May 1, 2013

  I have spent over a decade of my life being bitter about things I could not change. I now realize when all is said and done, God blesses whomever He chooses. It is not my job to complain about the blessings of the Lord. It is my job to pray and to forgive. And today, I am finally ready to be the person God has always wanted me to be. Today, I forgive Dana for everything, and I pray God does something to bless Dana’s life and forever change her.

  That was the last page in her journal. When Lisa closed the book, God had changed her forever, and all she could do was weep. She felt like Mary Magdalene, but instead of bringing Jesus her alabaster box, Lisa was laying her journal at His feet and allowing Him to cleanse her of all the unforgiveness and bitterness that had tried to swallow her whole. “I thank You, Jesus, for rescuing my soul.”

  Chapter 38

  May 5, 2013

  Dana had spent the last two years detoxing and praising God for His goodness. She had even become a praise dancer at her church. Now she understood why Jeff wanted to name their son Judah . . . praise was everything.

  Today the choir was singing “Second Chance” by Hezekiah Walker. Dana had requested this song for her praise dance. She was almost two years sober and was grateful for the second chance God had given her.

  As she kicked out her leg, leaned back, and twirled in unison with the other two dancers, tears streamed down her face.

  She had truly been given a second chance, and she would spend the rest of her life giving God praise for taking the shame of her past and casting it into the sea of forgiveness. She was no longer listening to the voices of the world saying her previous mistakes meant she was of no use for the rest of her life.

  As she two-stepped across the floor with the other praise dancers, Dana stepped into her newness—her destiny. God was in control, and she was allowing Him to lead her. As the song ended and the praise dancers left the sanctuary, they were now on the side of the church where the pastor’s office was and the room they used to change their clothes. The other two dancers went into the room, but Dana was so amped up she needed a moment.

  With hands lifted in praise, Dana walked the length of the hallway. She wasn’t done giving praise to God for the second chance He had given her. Dana went up and down the hallway shouting, “Hallelujah! Hallelujah!”

  She was so thankful God had brought Jeff into her life. She found herself wondering why God had decided to do something so amazing for her even before she gave her life to Him. That in itself deserved a hallelujah, so she shouted again.

  “You ’bout to make me praise Him too,” a man said.

  Dana didn’t recognize the voice. She whirled around and came face-to-face with State Senator Mike Barnes. She still remembered how smug he looked the day of the debate when he exposed Lisa for not paying her bills. Dana was sure he now knew she was the one responsible for those bills.

  “Senator Barnes, I didn’t know you attended Brooklyn Tabernacle.”

  “To be honest with you, I stay so busy I have missed more church services than I have attended lately. But no, I do not attend your church. I came to see you today.”

  He walked a little closer to her. If she had run into him two years ago, she would have lowered her head in shame, wondering what he thought of her, but she was a new creation in Christ, and she was not about to let anyone else shame her because of her past.

  Standing straight, head lifted, she asked, “What can I do for you?”

  “Actually, I was hoping you and I could do something for Lisa Coleman.” He pointed toward the fellowship hall. “Do you mind if we sit down and talk for a minute?”

  She folded her arms over her chest. This man was not going to make her feel guilty. Her sins were covered under the blood, and that’s where they would stay. “I completed my community service years ago, Senator, so I’m not sure what else you need from me.”

  Then he asked, “Did you know Lisa had a stroke two years ago?”

  Dana’s arms immediately unfolded and fell to her sides. She lifted her right hand and touched her heart. “No, I didn’t. Oh my goodness. I’m so sorry to hear this.”

  “From what I was told, she almost died.” He pointed to a table with four chairs in the fellowship hall. “Can we sit?”

  “Yes, yes, of course.” His news shook Dana. She never would have put Lisa’s name in the same sentence as stroke. How could this have happened? She wanted to ask questions but didn’t feel like she had the right. She sat down and waited for Barnes to fill her in.

  He took the seat across from her and said, “I’m not going to beat around the bush. I’m here because I owe Lisa for the way I slandered her name during my first run for city council.”

  “And I owe her for stealing her identity and causing her to lose out on so many things she planned for her life. Is that what you’re saying?”

  Barnes shook his head. “I’m not saying you owe her anything. Like you said, you’ve already done your community service. But I paid close attention to your trial. And from what I grasped, you and Lisa were once friends.”

  Dana smiled as a distant memory played in her head. “Best friends.”

  He nodded. “After I was elected to the city council, Lisa came to see me. I felt so bad about how I had slandered her, so I offered to put one of her agenda items on my list. I really did try to get it accomplished during my first year, but when I saw the money wasn’t there for the proposal, I gave up. I’m trying to forgive myself for what I did, and I’m hoping you will help me.”

  “I’m guessing you’re coming to me for the money, right?”

  Barnes laid his brown leather satchel on the table. He opened it, pulled out a binder, and handed it to Dana. “This is the proposal Lisa put together. She had some really good ideas. I need the funding to open the center. If it’s a success, I believe we could open these after-school programs in communities all over Brooklyn.”

  Dana took the proposal along with Barnes’ business card. “Let me look over this information, and I’ll get back with you.”

  * * *

  Later, while she and Jeff were lounging in the family room and the kids were in their rooms, Dana handed him the proposal. “Senator Barnes came to see me at church today. He said Lisa Coleman had a stroke.”

  “That’s awful. I’ll make sure to include her in my prayers.”

  “Thank you. From what Barnes told me, Lisa almost died.” Saying those words caused her eyes to moisten. Lisa had once shared her sandwich with her when she was hungry. Had invited her to church when she was lost . . . Dana couldn’t turn away now that her old friend was in need.

  Jeff scanned through the proposal. “Why did Senator Barnes give this proposal to you?”

  “He’s looking for funding. Years ago, he promised Lisa he would add her agenda to his list, but he never got around to it. Now he feels guilty.”

  Jeff’s lips tightened. “He wasn’t trying to pull a guilt trip on you, was he?”

  She put a hand on her husband’s thigh. “No. He thought I might want to help make Lisa’s vision come to life.”

  He handed the proposal back to her. “And . . . do you?”

  It took Dana a moment to respond, but when she did, she said, “I think I want to go visit an old friend.”

  * * *

  Lisa was no longer using her walker. She was now able to walk around her house using a cane. Kennedy had a job interview today, so Lisa went into the kitchen and fixed herself some turkey bacon and eggs.

  It felt good to be able to cook a meal for herself. She turned on her praise music and then sat down at the kitchen table. She picked up the knife she had laid on the table with her left hand, then put her right hand over her left and sliced a grapefruit. Her left hand was getting better, so she kept working it.

  Lisa bowed her head and prayed over her food. She also slid in, “And, Lord, can You please help Kennedy? She has been so good to come back home and help me during my time of need. Please, Lord, Kennedy deserves to be in law school rather than applying for a clerk position at a law firm.” She looked to heaven. “I’m not going to worry about what I can’t do anything about. I’m going to leave it in Your hands.”

  Lisa ate her breakfast. She even washed her plate and then went back to her room to watch television. Honestly, outside of reading her Bible, the days were quite boring. Lisa was beginning to think about her next act. There had to be something useful she could do in this world.

  Lately, she’d been praying not only for Kennedy but also for herself, asking God for direction. She was only forty-six years old, so unless they were giving out TV-critic jobs, she would need to find something to do.

  Halfway through House Hunters, Lisa started nodding off. Lying around was making her tired. She took a nap, then got up and went to the bathroom. After using the bathroom and washing her hands, Lisa looked at her reflection in the mirror. Right after the stroke, the left side of her lip had drooped. She was thankful her speech had returned and the left side of her face had regained its structure.

  Her cane clicked and clacked on the tile of the bathroom floor as she made her way back to the bedroom. But then the doorbell rang. Lisa lifted an eyebrow. She wasn’t expecting anyone but her father, and he wasn’t due to arrive in town until next week.

  Slowly, she turned toward the door, making sure she had a firm grip on her cane. She then began walking toward the front of the house. “One moment, I’m coming!”

  Lisa smiled at the sound of her voice. She talked a bit slower these days, but her words were no longer garbled. She praised God every day for blessing her. Lisa was even thankful for the cane she was now using to walk toward the door. She had graduated from her walker.

  But as she stood in front of the door and looked out the glass inserts, she almost lost her balance. The stroke had not affected her vision, but Lisa still wondered if she was seeing things.

  This was definitely a blast from the past, but then Lisa looked to heaven and asked, “What are You up to?” She was intrigued.

  Chapter 39

  The limo driver turned from Lewis Avenue onto Halsey Street.

  Dana looked around the old neighborhood. Things had changed. The corner store Lisa’s father used to own was gone; a restaurant was now in its place. She had also noticed the game room she used to play in as a teen was closed. The building had been boarded up.

  The In Loving Memory mural was still on the wall at the corner of Halsey and Lewis. Dana hadn’t thought much about this mural through the years, but her heart ached to see it now. “Stop the car,” she told the limo driver.

  Her driver pulled over, parked the car, then got out and opened Dana’s door. As Dana walked over to the mural, she spotted faces from the old neighborhood. Her mother’s face was on the mural. Mrs. Brenda, Lisa’s mother, was there. Dana also saw Derrick. Her mind drifted back to all the havoc one wrong choice of getting in that car with Derrick had brought to her life.

  Her chin quivered. So much history was on this wall. So many of the faces painted on the mural had been a part of her early years, whether for good or for bad. As Dana continued to scan the mural, her hand went to her mouth. Her eyes watered as she saw Jasmine’s face. That girl had gone all the way wrong. But Dana wondered: If a program like the one Lisa had proposed had been available when they were growing up, would things have been different for them?

  As she turned away from the wall, she didn’t feel like getting back into the limo. She pointed toward Lisa’s house. “I’m going to the house over there,” she told her driver, then headed up the street. Lisa’s house was on the opposite side of the street, so Dana crossed over. As she walked toward her old friend’s house, she wasn’t surprised Lisa had stayed in the family home. A lot of families passed down their brownstones from one family member to the next.

  But what did surprise Dana were all the white faces she saw on this side of Brooklyn. When she was growing up, this side of town had mostly African American residents. She also noticed renovations were underway on a few of the brownstones. Workers were throwing old carpet out of one house. She saw another group of workers bringing the railing from the staircase of a brownstone out on the lawn. Things were definitely changing in her old neighborhood.

  Butterflies flew around in Dana’s stomach as she climbed the stairs and rang the doorbell. She stood and waited, tried not to look through the window insert as she heard the tap, tap, tap of something on the hardwood floor.

  When the tapping stopped, Dana could feel someone staring at her from the other side of the door. She was looking toward the house on the right while standing on the stoop. She did not want to face forward. She was concerned about the way she might be received. If they decided not to open the door, at least she wouldn’t have the disapproving glare branded into her mind.

  But the door opened. Lisa looked past Dana, toward the limo parked in front of her house. “Really, Dana? You brought a limo to Bed-Stuy?”

  “You know how hard it is to get a cab in this town,” Dana joked as Lisa opened the door wide.

  “Come in.”

  Dana stepped inside and followed Lisa to the living room. She was amazed at how much the interior had changed while still giving the feel of the brownstones of old. The banister on the stairs leading to the third level used to be a mahogany brown; now it was black. The walls had once been white but were now a light gray. A wall now separated the living room from the dining room. So you had to walk all the way down the hall to get to the kitchen. The furnishings flirted with the off-white and gray tones. Dana remembered a brown and white sofa in this living room back in the day, and the sofa used to have a plastic covering.

  Dana hated seeing Lisa with a cane, but she tried not to make a big deal of it by staring at it. When they sat down, she pointed toward the outside. “What’s the deal with all the white people I see in the hood?”

  “Gentrification,” Lisa said. Then they both laughed.

  Dana said, “It’s happening all over.”

  “The neighborhood has been changing for a few years now. Some of the neighbors are getting million-dollar offers on their properties, so I really can’t blame them for selling.”

  Dana didn’t want to pry, but she had to know. “Are you planning to sell?” For some reason, this house being in someone else’s hands didn’t sit well with her.

  “I don’t want to.” Lisa sighed. “But after spending the money we saved for Kennedy to go to law school on my medical expenses, we might have to.”

  Dana frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. Senator Barnes told me you’ve been ill. So I stopped by.” Then she admitted, “I honestly didn’t know if you would open the door once you saw it was me, but I’m so glad you did.”

  Lisa laughed, then admitted, “If you had come a year ago, I probably would have opened the door so I could slam it in your face. But God has been healing me physically and spiritually.”