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The senior Becton leaned to kiss his wife’s mouth, pressing his lips lightly against hers. Reaching for his hand, the woman clasped his fingers between her own.
“Our son is leaving for Uganda. I tried to talk him out of it but he won’t listen.”
Irene laughed, reaching to kiss her child’s cheek. “Good for you, Jericho. The experience will be good for you.”
“For heaven’s sake, Irene. He’s going to the jungles of Africa!”
The woman shrugged. “Oh, please! Would you have preferred he choose Iraq or Israel, instead? Maybe Bosnia? I’m sure his services are just as needed there.”
Elijah tossed up his hands in exasperation. “Whose side are you on?”
“I’m on the side of all those children who will benefit from our son’s altruism. You should think about going yourself. Get back to your Peace Corps days.”
“I was never in the Peace Corps,” the man responded.
“You should have been,” she said matter-of-factly, her gaze penetrating his.
Crossing his arms over his chest the man smiled, shaking his head from side to side. “Well, I’m too old to be volunteering in the field now. But I do my part every time I sign one of those large donation checks you keep writing.”
Jericho chuckled. “You’re never too old to give back, Dad.”
Irene winked at her son. “That’s right. You tell him, baby boy. So, when do you leave?” she asked, leaning her back against her husband’s chest as he wrapped the length of his arms around her.
“I’ll be flying out the first week in April,” Jericho answered, his gaze dancing from his mother’s face to his father’s. “I have some time before I have to leave.”
The couple nodded, one shifting comfortably against the other. Jericho smiled, warmed by their presence. Irene and Elijah Becton were the pillars in his life, his own personal fan club and cheering squad. Although Jericho understood the adversity the duo had faced being a white male and black female during an era of heightened racial tensions, the two had built a solid relationship on a foundation of mutual respect, passion and pure love. Jericho yearned for what his parents shared—constant companionship with that one person who touched your soul and held the key to your heart. He sighed, and the wistful gesture was not lost on his mother.
“That’s good,” she said, a smile widening across her ebony face. “I’ve volunteered you for one of my fund-raisers at the end of the month.”
Elijah laughed, giving his wife a quick hug before moving back behind his desk and taking a seat against the leather chair. “You’re in for it now, son.”
Irene fanned a hand at the man and sucked her teeth. “Ignore your father. This will be fun. My women’s group is hosting a bachelor auction and I’ve put you on the program. You’ll need to decide what your date package will be, or of course, I can plan it for you, if you like.”
Elijah roared with laughter, wiping at the moisture that rose to his eyes. “Which means she’s already planned it for you. I told you, son,” he muttered between chuckles. “Didn’t I tell you?”
Wide-eyed, Jericho shook his head from side to side. “A bachelor auction? I don’t think so, Mom. I can’t.”
“Yes, you can, and you will. It’s for a good cause. We’re gifting the money we raise to the hospital for pediatric cancer research. So, you have to do it. Besides, this will give you an opportunity to meet some very nice women.”
Jericho sighed, a look of defeat gracing his face. “Yes, ma’am.”
“And you need to get your hair cut,” his mother said, running her hands through the excessive length of her son’s locks.
Jericho bristled. “Never,” he said emphatically, shaking the jet-black strands that fell in a gentle wave against his skull. “I don’t have any need to cut my hair, so please don’t ask.”
Irene rolled her eyes, nodding her head at her husband. “You need to talk to your son.”
The man shook his head. “Oh, now he’s my son. My son needs a haircut. Your son gets to parade around like a side of beef for the cause. You’ve got some nerve, woman!”
Jericho’s mother laughed. “It’s for a good cause and you never know. Our son might meet a nice girl, and we might get grandchildren out of the deal.”
Chapter 2
The morning staff meeting had gone well, and when Reverend Edward Warren gestured toward Talisa, asking to speak with her privately, she was surprised. It was rare that the minister ever had anything to say to her that he couldn’t say in front of them all.
Mrs. Stevie Parrish, the student activities director for the Wesley Foundation and Johanna Bower, the administrative assistant, both watched curiously as Talisa followed Reverend Warren into his office, the man closing the door behind them.
Reverend Warren took a seat in one of the two oversized recliners that decorated his office, pointing a finger toward the other.
“Make yourself comfortable, Talisa,” the man said, smiling at her warmly. “How have you been feeling?”
“I’m doing very well, sir. Fully recovered.”
He nodded. “I’m glad to hear it. We were worried about you for a while there.”
“Thank you. I appreciate everything you all did to help, and it feels great to be back to work.”
The man turned serious as he reached for a manila folder on his desk. “I’m sure you want to know why I wanted to speak with you.”
“Yes, sir. I’m a little curious. There’s nothing wrong, is there?”
Reverend Warren shook his head. “No, dear. Not at all. Just the opposite, in fact. I have recommended you to lead one of the two student groups we’re sending on work team missions this summer. Johanna will be on maternity leave and Stevie already has a group of twenty committed to building homes in Costa Rica. I have ten more seniors who want to work with a medical outreach ministry in Uganda. I would like you to take them. They don’t need a lot of hand-holding, but we’re obligated to have a member of our staff accompany them.”
Talisa pulled herself to the edge of her seat. Excitement shimmered across her face, the ecstatic expression flooding the room.
“I would love to, Reverend Warren. Are you sure?”
“I couldn’t be more positive. I think you’ll do a wonderful job. I’ll let the board know that you’re going.”
“How long will we be away, sir?”
“Eight weeks. You’ll leave right after exams. That’s all we have in the budget. The kids are raising the majority of their money and the board will fund the difference, plus pay all of your expenses. But it’s going to be a good deal of hard work, Talisa. Not only will you have to complete your work mission, but you’ll be expected to do so keeping the spirit of the Lord front and center, and sharing our love of God and the church with the community, as well.”
Talisa nodded her head. “Yes, sir.”
The man smiled. “You’ll do just fine. I have total confidence in you, Talisa. So, do you have any plans for the weekend?”
Talisa blushed. “I’m actually attending a fund-raiser this weekend. It’s an auction to raise money for the hospital.”
Reverend Warren nodded his head. “Sounds like fun.”
Talisa giggled. “I hope so. They’re auctioning single men. My father’s hoping I’ll get lucky and find a husband.”
The minister laughed with her. “I should send my daughter. She could use a little help in that direction herself. Well, you enjoy and we’ll finalize the details of your trip on Monday.”
“Thank you, Reverend Warren. Thank you very much.”
Talisa was grinning widely as she exited the office and returned to the small conference room of the United Methodist campus ministry at Georgia Tech. Just as she’d expected, Stevie and Johanna were waiting for her, feigning interest in the paperwork scattered across the surface of the table.
Stevie rose excitedly, rushing to close the door from prying ears as Talisa took a seat at the table. “What’s going on?” the woman asked anxiously, dropping back into her own seat.
“Reverend Warren asked me to head the second mission group,” Talisa answered, her excitement spilling into the small space.
Stevie clapped her hands as Johanna reached out to hug her. “That’s great,” her friend said, the other echoing the sentiments. “You’ll do just fine. I am so happy for you.”
Talisa placed a hand against Johanna’s pregnant belly, patting the haven of new life ever so slightly. “Won’t you miss going?” she asked, studying the woman’s face.
“Not at all,” Johanna said emphatically, her blond ponytail swaying from side to side. “It’s time I took a break. I’ve done a mission trip every year since I was a student here. It’ll be a pleasure not to have to worry about inoculations, visas, and all the other stuff you’re going to have to bother with. Plus, I love our kids dearly, but they will work your nerves once you get them out of the country.”
Talisa laughed. “Now you tell me!”
Stevie shook her head. “I wish we were going together, but you’ll do fine. You have David, Paul and Clarissa going with you. They have over ten years of experience between them. They’ll be a big help.”
“But you won’t need much help, Talisa,” Johanna said. “You’ve got great instincts. All you will need to remember is that you are not there to babysit them. They’re adults. All they need is for you to occasionally remind them that they represent the church and their school, and that they need to behave like it. Once you get them settled and organized, they’re on their own and so are you.”
Stevie waved her head in agreement. “When you finish this trip you need to walk away knowing that you fulfilled a calling in your heart, that you served well, and that everyone can be proud of whatever it is you accomplished. You also need to relax, enjoy and have a great time.”
Talisa grinned as the two women chattered excitedly around her. She had been working at the student ministry for almost three years, her duties ranging from being a housemother to a homesick freshman, guidance counselor for an anxious senior, maintenance woman, building manager, and everything else in between. The Wesley Foundation, home of the United Methodist Church’s student ministry, had become her second home and she welcomed the opportunities it afforded her to be a part of the campus community.
When she’d initially applied for the position, Reverend Warren had explained their jobs simply. He had explained that they were there to help the students grow in their love for and their commitment to God. At the time, neither knew that the foundation would do that exact thing for Talisa. But from the moment she first stepped into the building and the staff had embraced and welcomed her, Talisa had marveled at how powerful, how healing, how sustaining an environment the place would be for her. She was excited at the prospect of sharing that through their outreach ministry. She was also excited about the opportunity to visit the motherland she only knew through outdated history books, an occasional world news item and the travel brochures she’d periodically picked up at the local travel agency.
Her grin widened as Stevie changed the subject. “How much do you plan to bid tomorrow?” the woman asked, turning the pages of the auction catalog she’d swiped off Talisa’s desk.
Talisa laughed again, the sound vibrating between them. “I have no intentions of bidding at all. I’m only going because my friends insist that this is where I need to be for my birthday. That, and my father is hoping someone will take pity on me, marry me, and move me out of his house. I just plan on making a nice donation for the cause, enjoying the hors d’oeuvres, and then I’m going home to a good book and a hot bath.”
Johanna stared over Stevie’s shoulder as the two scanned the photographs and read the bios of the auction’s participants. “I like this one,” she said, pointing to the black-and-white photo of a senior pilot for Southwest Airlines. The man’s wide smile filled the image, accentuating his thick eyebrows, dimpled cheeks, and the graying edges of his hairline.
“They all work for me,” Stevie said with a deep laugh. “I think he’d be cute for you, Talisa,” she finished, pointing to the image of a pro basketball player for the Atlanta Hawks. The young man staring up from the page was a richly toned, blue-black specimen, in a pin-striped suit and wide-brimmed Panama hat, and matching, two-toned, black-and-white shoes. A wide grin filled his very round face and Talisa could almost imagine the number of hearts he’d broken in his lifetime.
She rolled her eyes. “You two are starting to sound like my father. If he tells me one more time how much I need a good man, I’ll absolutely bust.”
Johanna rubbed her palm against her bulging abdomen. “Personally, a man is the last thing I need. My poor husband is not having any fun with me right now. Every time I look at my swollen ankles, get heartburn or feel a twitch of pain, I take it out on him.” She sighed, looking toward Stevie. “I thought you said this pregnancy thing was going to be a piece of cake?”
The older woman laughed. “It was…for me.”
“I should never have listened to you. What would you remember? It’s been what, thirty-four years since you gave birth to your daughter?”
“About that, give or take a year,” Stevie said.
Johanna shook her head. “That’s what I get.”
Talisa laughed. “You know you’re enjoying every minute of this pregnancy and I’m sure you haven’t been that hard on Allan at all. That husband of yours is golden the way he fawns all over you.”
Johanna smiled. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Listen to your father. Go find yourself a really good man. Just don’t pay too much for him. A bargain is always better than full price any day of the week.”
Chapter 3
The morning sun peeked through the blinds of her bedroom, the rising warmth summoning Talisa awake. As she stretched the length of her body against the padded mattress top, she suddenly remembered that her work week had ended well and that she actually had something to do to get the weekend off to a promising start. She smiled.
Although she professed to not be interested in the evening’s auction, she was overly excited at the prospect of being in a room with so many eligible, employed, socially promising men. It was an ideal way to celebrate her twenty-fifth birthday—and her best friends had promised her an exceptional birthday party. She stretched again, yawning as she shifted from sleep mode to wide-eyed and awake.
She had already lifted herself from beneath the covers and was returning from the adjoining bathroom when her mother and father knocked on the bedroom door.
“Happy birthday to you…happy birthday to you…happy birthday, Pumpkin Pie…happy birthday to you!” they both sang, one more out of tune than the other.
“Happy birthday, pumpkin,” Herman London said, leaning to kiss his only child on the cheek.
Her mother reached for the covers on the unmade bed, instinctively smoothing out the rumpled sheets and blankets.
“Stop, Mom! I can make up my own bed,” Talisa said, reaching to pull the covers from her mother’s grasp. She rolled her eyes in annoyance.
Mary flipped her hand at her daughter. “I know what you can do. I was just helping out.” She smiled widely at the young woman, nodding approval in her daughter’s direction.
Herman shook his head from side to side. “So, what do you have planned for the day, baby girl? Anything special?”
Talisa grinned. “Going out with the girls tonight, Daddy.”
The man nodded. “Do you need some money?” he asked, reaching for the wallet in his rear pocket.
Talisa shook her head. “No, sir. I’ll be fine. Thank you.”
“Give her the present, Herman,” Mary said, clapping her hands together as she hopped in place. “What are you waiting for, Daddy?”
The man winked, reaching for an envelope in the pocket of his work shirt. “Child ain’t even dressed yet and you rushing folks.” He passed the envelope to Talisa who looked at them both curiously.
“What’s this?” she said, pulling at the sealed container.
Her parents stood beside her, beaming in her direction.
“Your daddy and I thought this was the best present for you. Hurry up and open it now!” her mother said excitedly.
Opening the envelope, Talisa’s eyes widened as she pulled a set of silver keys and the title to a new car from inside. Her mother had tied a red ribbon around the document that said the vehicle belonged exclusively to her. Talisa stared at the set of keys, her mouth ajar as the engraved Ford logo and inscription stared up at her. “You bought me a car?” she asked hesitantly, looking from one to the other.
Mary’s excitement burst out in glee as she pulled her daughter into a warm hug. “Daddy picked out a pretty new car for you. It’s blue with gray seats. It’s in the driveway. Go look,” the woman said in one big breath, gasping for air as she finished.
Her father nodded. “Happy birthday, pumpkin!” he exclaimed for a second time.
Talisa stood shocked, her limbs tied to the floor. “I don’t believe this. Daddy, why would you buy me a car? You and Mommy can’t afford this!”
Her mother bristled. “Don’t tell us what we can afford. Your daddy and I know what we can afford and what we can’t.” The woman’s tone was suddenly hostile.
Her father defused the moment quickly, resting a large hand against his wife’s forearm. “Your mama and I been saving up for this since you turned eighteen, Talisa. We’ve been putting a little away every month. I thought we’d have been able to do it when you graduated college, but that’s when I lost my job at the plant. After I started driving buses for the city, we just kept on saving. We wanted you to have something special and since turning twenty-five is a special time, today was as good as any other.”
Talisa’s hair swayed from side to side as she shook her head. She reached to hug her father and then her mother. “I love you both so much.”
“Well, don’t just stand there,” her mother admonished, the smile returning to her face. “Get dressed. I gots to go to the store and I want to ride in that nice new car.”
Talisa pulled her new car into the parking lot of the Crowne Plaza Atlanta hotel, Mya Taft, one of her closest friends, riding shotgun beside her. The two women were laughing heartily as they exited the vehicle, one just as excited as the other.
