Pointing an accusatory finger in her direction, he said, “You can quit talking to me about that insurance money. That policy is only worth a hundred thousand dollars, and Jon-Jon’s injuries and lifetime earning potential is ten times more than that.”

  “I’m just saying . . .”

  “You can stop ‘just saying’ and start doing. Like, go get a job so we can scrape up the money for that surgery ourselves.”

  Trish’s nostrils flared. She had the hot grits pot in her hand and was thinking about giving her husband the Al Green special. Breathe . . . Breathe. She hurriedly put the hot pot back on the stove and stepped away from it. She wasn’t trying to catch a case by pouring hot grits on Dwayne and giving him third-degree burns. With a hiss, she replied, “Who is going to take care of my son if I go back to work? You don’t do anything unless I ask you to.”

  He pointed toward the sink. “I just washed the dishes for you last night.”

  Her neck started rolling. “You didn’t wash dishes for me. You washed dishes for the household. Everything is not on me, Dwayne John Robison. I’m not the maid around here.” She practically spit out his name, she was so mad.

  He stood there, staring at her, as if he was trying to come up with something to say. She didn’t have time for this. She took the plate to Jon-Jon and lifted his bed so he could eat. As far as Trish was concerned, that conversation was over.

  * * *

  When Dwayne came back in from work that evening, he walked right into Jon-Jon’s room where she was sitting and watching House Hunters while Jon-Jon ate his dinner. Dwayne started in on her immediately as if he had something on his chest all day that he couldn’t wait to unload. He didn’t even speak to Jon-Jon.

  “Before I left this morning, you informed me that you weren’t the maid and everything wasn’t on you. Well, everything shouldn’t be on me either, Trish. I don’t make enough money for all of our needs. You and I have always worked together on these bills.”

  “Things have changed, Dwayne.” She glanced over at Jon-Jon, knowing that he couldn’t feel good about what his daddy had just said. She wished he would just stop. She had always been the responsible one, making sure that their bills were paid on time and that they kept their credit score above seven hundred, but none of that mattered to her right now. If a few bills had to be paid late so she could take care of her son a few more months, then that’s what it would be.

  Dwayne wouldn’t quit. “Maybe you can’t work full-time right now, but you sure can work part-time, and you know it.”

  This man obviously didn’t know how close he came to a hospital visit this morning or he would leave her alone. Getting out of her seat, she said, “You know what, Dwayne? You’re right. I do need to get a job. And you need to get another place to stay.”

  “Mama!”

  Jon-Jon sounded hurt by her words. But she didn’t care anymore. “I mean it, Jon-Jon. He has got to go.” She turned back to Dwayne. “I have had it up to here”—she lifted her hands above her head—“with your mess.”

  Twisting his lip, like he wasn’t buying what she was selling, he told her, “You done fell and bumped your head on that one, because I’m not leaving my home.”

  “Argh!” Trish shook her hands in the air as if she was practicing having his neck in between her hands, strangling him. She then screamed, “Forget it! I’m done!” She stormed out of her son’s room, went into her bedroom, and slammed the door. She paced back and forth, back and forth. She didn’t know what to do. She was at her wit’s end and ready to pack her own clothes and move in with her parents.

  Thinking of her parents caused Trish to think back to something her mother said while they sat on the back patio. Sister had admonished her to pray, but how could she pray when she was mad at God? There, she admitted it. God was supposed to protect them from seen and unseen dangers, but He didn’t protect Jon-Jon from that distracted driver. Trish was also mad at the lady who hit Jon-Jon. There, she admitted that too. She was supposed to be so forgiving, so full of God’s love, but she was mad at everybody. “You weren’t there, God!” she shouted as she looked heavenward. “Why weren’t You there?”

  She hadn’t been able to get a grip on her day-to-day life, let alone her spiritual God-I-need-You life. Her mother had been right. If she truly thought things were so bad, then she needed to start praying for something good to happen for the Robinson family.

  The radio had been softly playing in her room. She hadn’t paid it much attention all day. But it was as if God was speaking to her through the radio. Kierra Sheard and Tasha Cobbs Leonard were singing “Something Has to Break.” She had heard this song before, but as she listened this time, the words that must have come straight from the throne room of God were breathing new life into her. So much had gone wrong. So much had been weighing her down. So much had been against them, so as Kierra sang words inspired by Isaiah 53:4, “Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows,” Trish stood up.

  She had lost that anyhow-kind-of-praise after Jon-Jon’s accident. But at this moment Trish wanted—no, needed—to get it back. With tears streaming down her face, she lifted her hands in praise to her God. “I’m here, Lord. Everything is falling apart, and I don’t know what to do. But I’m standing right here because I know You care about what concerns me. You care about how things have been so bad that I can barely see my way through. I just need something good, Lord. Do You hear me?” She got down on her knees. “Something good. That’s what we need.” She lowered her head, and her body shook from the torrent of tears.

  Here she was, feeling exhausted after having tried to take this battle on all by herself. Trish had been raised in church, she had been raised to believe that she and God were the majority. Trish saw God not just as her Jehovah-Raah—her Shepherd—but she also knew Him as Jehovah-Jireh—the Lord who provides. She truly needed God to be their provider. She needed Him to make a way out of no way.

  Jon-Jon needed his final surgery. Trish was fighting hard to believe that her God, her Jehovah-Jireh, wasn’t going to let these insurance companies and lawyers decide whether or not her son would walk again. She knew she needed joy back in her household, and she wasn’t too picky about where the joy would come from. She just needed something good to overtake them and get her family back on track.

  She had just told her husband to get out. In all the years they had been married and all the times he had gotten on her nerves, she had never told him to leave their home. What was wrong with her? Did she really want it to be over? Was she done loving Dwayne? Had Jon-Jon’s accident been too much for them to handle together?

  Lifting her eyes heavenward, she shouted, “I can’t take any more, Lord! I need You now! Right now.”

  The waterfall kept cascading down her face. She would wipe tears away and before she knew it, her face was drenched again. She had never been in such a dark and unmoving place as this. She needed God to shine some light on her situation. She needed to feel joy again. “I trust You. I trust You with my whole life.”

  Even in the face of her crumbling marriage and all her other problems, she was beginning to believe again. She was beginning to believe that God could fix it.

  It didn’t matter that there was no more money in the bank, that the insurance company refused her son’s surgery, or that Dwayne was still fighting and refusing to accept the car insurance payout for Jon-Jon’s accident. It didn’t matter that the guest room had now become her bedroom. It didn’t even matter that she might never have those grandchildren that she so desperately wanted. It was just her and God, and she was going to praise Him until she got tired.

  Turning up the radio, Trish started dancing around the room. Her God was an awesome God. Her God was mighty. Her God was powerful. He wouldn’t let her down, He would come see about her.

  “Turn it down!” Jon-Jon shouted.

  She ignored him. Her son wasn’t going to stop her praise, not tonight.

  She heard Jon-Jon shouting over her music again. She didn’t want to be an inconsiderate neighbor, but she wasn’t finished yet. “Hallelujah!” It was the highest praise. She kept saying “Hallelujah!” because she just felt like screaming it through a house that had lost the ability to praise, whether happy or sad, whether rich or poor. She swung open her bedroom door and shouted, “Let God be praised!”

  Dwayne was standing at her door. He was about to knock and looked as if she had caught him off guard when she swung the door open. She started shaking her head. Not now, devil, not now. This man was not about to bring her down. “I’ll be done in a few minutes, but I’m not letting you or Jon-Jon stop me from praising the Lord. This is personal.”

  “Didn’t come over here to stop you.” He walked past her as he stepped into the room.

  Trish was about to object. This was her prayer and praise time. She hadn’t asked for company, but how could she uninvite someone to prayer?

  Dwayne opened the curtains wide and pointed toward the tree in their backyard. “Come see what has been perched on our tree since you shouted hallelujah.”

  Trish’s eyebrows furrowed. Did he actually stop her prayer to have her look at their tree? She wished Dwayne would just get out of her room and let her get back to spending time with God. When he kept standing in front of the window with this look of awe on his face, curiosity got the best of her and she moved closer and closer to that window. The sooner she looked out the window, the sooner Dwayne would leave her alone. She knew she shouldn’t feel this way, especially while in prayer, but things were complicated between her and Dwayne.

  Her eyes traveled the distance, and then she saw it. Perched on one of the limbs was a North Carolina cardinal. The magnificent bird was a brilliant red all over, with a reddish bill and black face surrounding the bill. Trish’s hand went to her face as she backed away from the window, furiously shaking her head in disbelief. “That can’t be.”

  “I’ve never heard you pray like you did just now, Trish, and look what happened. Your prayers have called down heaven. God has sent a messenger to watch over us.” He pointed toward the tree again. “Just look at him. I wonder how long he’ll stay.”

  Her mother told her about cardinals when she was a child. This bird was symbolic of beauty in the midst of darkness, hope in the midst of sorrow—and her family had certainly seen a fair share of sorrow. Could this cardinal truly be bringing hope to them?

  Still looking out the window in wonder, Dwayne asked, “Remember that old wives’ tale you told me about when we saw a cardinal on our wedding day?”

  She did indeed. Taking in a long, deep breath, like she was ready to exhale all the bad she allowed to dwell within, she exhaled as she said, “When a cardinal appears in your yard, it’s a visitor from heaven.”

  Mystified, they stared out the window a little while longer, interested to see if the bird would fly away or do something. Trish really didn’t know what she expected the bird to do. When it didn’t move, she finally told Dwayne that she was tired and needed to lay down.

  Dwayne left her room. Trish kept the curtains open and got in her bed. All the arguing and praying had worn her out. She’d had a rough night, barely sleeping at all as she kept waking from a nightmare.

  The sun was going down and her heavenly visitor was still perched on the tree. She laid her head on the pillow and, for the first time in a long time, slept without falling into some kind of nightmarish dream that had her being chased or falling off of a building. Peace enveloped her, warmed her, and soothed her. How could she not be at peace? God had sent a heavenly visitor to watch over her.

  Even if that old wives’ tale wasn’t true, for tonight, she chose to believe.

  Chapter 8

  “Mom, tell Dad to keep his promise.”

  Alexis was sitting at the kitchen table, filling out paperwork to get one of her clients approved for housing, so she was a bit distracted. “Promise about what, Ethan?”

  Ethan shook her chair. “He promised he was going to race me today. Daddy’s always bragging about being a better swimmer than I am, but I’ve been practicing and he still owes me a race.”

  Michael entered the kitchen, then did his best imitation of a Superman stance. Arms folded across his chest, legs spread apart, he said, “Ethan, my boy, you have no clue who you are challenging. Once we’re in the water, there will be no turning back. No crying for your mommy.”

  Ethan came toward his father as if they were in the Batman v Superman movie. “I won’t be crying to my mom, but let’s just hope you don’t run back in the house and call Granny to ask why they didn’t get you a better swim coach when you were my age.”

  “Did you hear your son, Alexis? He really thinks he can beat me.”

  Alexis put down the forms she had been working on. She gave her husband a you-got-your-hands-full look. “I don’t know. Ethan may have your number.”

  Michael backed away, hand to his heart. “You wound me, woman. How can you turn on your husband like this?”

  “She’s my mom. She’s supposed to be on my side,” Ethan told his father.

  Standing up, Alexis shook her head. “I am not taking sides. I have a dinner party to get ready for, so I can’t referee you boys right now.”

  “You take his side,” Michael said, pointing at Ethan, “and accuse me of acting like a kid? Where is the love?”

  “I have so much love for you, husband. I really, really do. I just don’t have time for you two right now. I have to whip up a meal that will help you close the deal on this merger.”

  “Not exactly a merger,” Michael corrected. “They just want the company, not the inventor.”

  “You’ll invent something even better, Daddy.” Forever Daddy’s little girl, Ella had encouraging words for her father as she entered the room.

  “Thank you, Ella. I knew someone in this house was on my side.”

  “She just wants to make sure you show up for her daddy-daughter dance and buy that awful dress she wants.” Ethan stuck out his tongue at his sister.

  Michael got back in his Superman stance as he turned to Ethan. “All right, kid, it’s time for me to teach you a lesson for coming in here and stealing my wife’s heart. You’ve got to pay for that.”

  “Daddy, Mommy is supposed to love us. We’re her kids.” Ella laughed at her father.

  “Don’t try to take up for him, Ella. He wants this fight, and I’m going to give it to him.” Michael headed to the bedroom to put on his swim trunks.

  Ella’s eyes widened as she looked over at her brother. “Are you really going to race Daddy?”

  Flexing his muscles, Ethan said, “I sure am. I beat you every time. I’ll beat him too.”

  Looking doubtful, Ella asked, “You do know that Daddy has a bunch of trophies and almost went to the Olympics, right?”

  “It’s all in good fun, Ella. Just let your brother go swim with his father.” Alexis put her paperwork up as the kids rushed to their rooms to put on their swimsuits.

  Alexis loved the fact that Michael was in good spirits today and that he was taking a break from his work to spend some time with the kids. She didn’t have time to splash around in the pool with them because they had a big night planned—an important night for Michael’s business.

  Media Matters Inc. was a global technology conglomerate. They didn’t seem to come up with any new ideas of their own. They bought companies with proven success in the technology field. Michael and his business partner Peter’s app came to their attention after Peter ran into an old college friend at a technology conference.

  Nora Foster was vice president of new development at Media Matters Inc. She and one of the directors of the company, who was also a woman, would be coming to the house for dinner tonight. Alexis was a bit intimidated by the fact that these women were powerful enough to make buying decisions at their company. The biggest buying decisions she made each week was at the grocery store or online, ordering toys for Ethan and cute outfits for Ella.

  Everything had to be perfect. If this dinner party was done right, it would go a long way to closing the deal. Lobster and steak were on the menu, along with asparagus and sweet potato puree with smoked paprika and brown sugar. She picked up a red velvet cake from her favorite bakery. After picking up the cake, Alexis started second-guessing herself.

  She needed something much more than just slicing a piece of cake and putting it on a saucer. As she put the sweet potatoes on to boil, sprinkled her asparagus with minced garlic, Himalayan sea salt, and olive oil, her mind kept turning. Dessert had to be special.

  Then it hit her. When she was a kid, some of her favorite moments occurred in the kitchen with her mother as they cooked a chocolate-cookie crunch trifle. It was chocolaty and rich from the pudding—a fluffy cookie delight with the added layers of whipped cream. The Oreo cookies her mother crunched up in the trifle only added to the yumminess of the dessert.

  Rushing to the pantry to make sure the kids had not eaten all of the Oreos, Alexis glanced out of her big picture window. Ella was sitting on the edge of the swimming pool, yelling at Ethan as he splashed in the water. Michael was climbing the stones as he normally did just before diving into the water. She opened the patio door and yelled out, “Show off!”

  Michael climbed past the waterfall that cascaded over the stones on the second level of the stone wall. He reached the top of the stones and then lifted his arms, ready to take flight.

  Ella stood up. “One, two, three—go!”

  Ethan took off as fast as his skinny legs and arms allowed him. After giving Ethan a head start, Michael dived into the water. Alexis smiled as she watched them. Her husband diving from on top of those stones was something spectacular to behold. He was her Superman.

  She went back to work in the kitchen, not wanting to see the winner and be forced to take sides. Her boys were too competitive. If they were more like she and Ella, they wouldn’t even be out there using unnecessary testosterone.