Chapter 18
Val
My mind is whirling.
All the way home, Jabari’s side of the story rings in my head.
He didn’t cheat on Jackie. Now I’m faced with the reality that my sister might not be as innocent as she’s always portrayed herself.
What did he mean by it “got ugly”? Had she been abusive?
Destructive? The phrase is about as vague as one can get.
I hate it.
I want to drive to Jackie’s house and demand answers, but then I’ll have to give answers of my own.
Like why do I care? Am I ready to admit to my sisters that Jabari is a good friend, and I’m not ashamed of him?
Because keeping this a secret certainly points to shame and that I’m up to no good.
I came into this friendship with good intentions.
No one should be left alone to deal with trauma by themselves.
Only now my good intentions are causing me angst. I befriended a person whose name is mud in my family.
“What do I do, Lord?” I cry out in the silence of my car and hear nothing but the pitiful whine in my voice.
The Lord would probably tell me how I’m breaking so many codes and allegiances by befriending Jabari. Or maybe He’d say I’m helping a hurting man and doing right.
“Or maybe it’s grayer than those black-and-white thoughts, Val,” I murmur to myself.
I turn into the parking garage and wave my fob to let me in. Soon I’m parked in my personal spot and heading for the elevators.
What is the right thing to do in this situation? At first, Jabari seemed hurt I might not sit with him at church, then changed to being understanding later. Which reaction is the truth?
Before I can unlock the door, it swings open.
My mouth drops as I take in Fran, who’s wearing pink sweats. “Are you going somewhere?”
“What about you?” she sputters. “Are you coming home? Now?”
“Maybe.” I bite my lip.
Fran lets out an incredulous laugh. “Who were you out with?” She folds her arms across her chest.
“Um, excuse me, Pot. But don’t you have somewhere to be?” I glance at my smartwatch. “At midnight?”
Just then a notification flashes across my watch. Yikes. I forgot to text Jabari. Despite the obvious staring Fran is doing, I respond.
“I’m home,” I say into my watch. Then press send.
“Are you doing voice to text?” Fran stares at me confused.
Uh-oh. I nod as nonchalantly as possible, but her brow furrows. Fran knows I’d rather type up a text any day than talk into my phone or smartwatch.
“Why didn’t you just text? It’s two words.”
“Maybe I don’t want to.”
“Or maybe you’re leaving a voice text because the person on the other end wants to hear the sound of your voice.” Fran smirks.
Evade, evade! “Can I come inside now? I’m tired and want to go to bed.”
She slides to her left, letting me pass. Instead of the door closing behind her retreating form, she follows me. Ugh. I do not want to do this right now.
“Go out, Fran. My arrival shouldn’t impede your fun plans.” I glance at her outfit. “Sleepover?”
She snorts. “Please. My friends aren’t talking to me.”
“Since when?” I raise my brows. “And why not?”
“Never mind that.” She waves a hand in the air. “Who are you talking to? Because you’re giving off boyfriend vibes.”
I laugh. “Nope. Guess again.”
“Really?” Confusion fills her brown eyes. “You don’t have a boyfriend?”
I meet her gaze. “I really don’t.” Not that I didn’t feel a spark of awareness when Jabari stopped crying earlier.
For a moment, before he pulled completely out of my embrace, my middle warmed, and I’m pretty sure there was a fluttering of butterflies.
Butterflies! Then he severed our connection, and I convinced myself it had been all in my head.
Definitely all in your head. You don’t fall for your sister’s ex-boyfriend.
I set my purse on my nightstand and change out of my clothes and into pajamas.
“You were at a friend’s house?”
I nod.
“Really? A friend’s and not Jackie’s?”
“I do have other friends besides you and Jackie.”
“We’re counting Ollie as a friend now?”
Ouch, but not wrong. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“Definitely, but I’m more interested in where you were than heading to my location.”
“Fine.” I fold my arms to match her stance. “I’ll tell you if you tell me where you’re headed.”
Color leaches out her face, and I feel a sliver of victory. This conversation is done. I maintain a neutral expression despite the smugness rising up inside.
“I was going to talk to Derrick.”
Her ex? “Why?” And why did she tell me? I’ll look like I’m reneging if I don’t share now.
“Nuh-uh. Your turn. Where were you?”
I swallow. “Jabari’s house.”
Fran’s eyes bug out. “He-Who-Won’t-Be-Named?”
“Yep.” I pop the p.
Fran sinks onto my bed and pats the space beside her. “Looks like we need to have a heart-to-heart.”
“Do we?” I sit, waiting for the explosion or at least the judgment.
Fran draws in a deep breath. “I’m pregnant, Val.”
Okay, now I’m pretty sure my eyes are popping out of their sockets. My mouth opens, closes, and opens again. “How far along are you?”
“Eight weeks.” Her voice is small.
Immediately, sympathy fills me. “When did you find out?”
“A couple of weeks ago.”
I do some math, think back to the last couple of weeks. “Is that why you’ve been staying home?”
“Yes. No one wants a pregnant girl along for the party.”
“And it’s Derrick’s?”
She nods slowly.
My heart hurts for her. Derrick is a tool. He never laid a hand on Fran, but he certainly belittled her.
“Did you already tell him?”
“Yeah. He wants to get married.”
No, no, no. But I keep my panic in check. I don’t want my little sister thinking that’s an option just because I go nuclear on her. “What do you want to do?”
“I can’t be with him.” Her nose wrinkles. “I know it’s the right thing to do in the church’s eyes, but I can’t imagine we’d have a healthy relationship.”
“Do Mom and Dad know?”
She shakes her head.
“Jackie?”
“Just Derrick and now, you.”
I wrap her in a hug. “Whatever you need, I’m here.”
“Even if your future roommate cries incessantly at all hours of the night?” She sniffs.
“Even then.”
After a moment, we pull out of the embrace.
Fran studies me. “It’s your turn.”
I tell her about the blind date that led to texts to a friendship to me hanging out at Jabari’s place. Well, I leave out our last conversation. No need to share about our older sister’s lies when I don’t even know how I feel about the new information.
“What I don’t understand is why. You know how Jackie felt.”
I think about my promise not to share about Jabari’s condition. I lick my lips. “I wish I could tell you why, Fran, but I promised I wouldn’t.”
Her gaze flicks back and forth as if assessing my response. “It’s a good reason?”
“Very.”
“Are you going to sit with him at church?”
“I think Jackie would have a heart attack.”
She snorts. “Or Dad would.”
By agreement, we lean backward onto all my throw pillows. “What are you going to do?” I ask.
“I don’t know. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know either.”
Fran reaches for my hand and holds it. I squeeze my little sister’s fingers and begin to pray.
Because even though the thought of telling Jackie that Jabari is a good friend is a mountain I don’t want to face, it’s nothing compared to the uphill battle Fran has before her.
Dad will ice her out, Mom will cry, and Jackie will act righteous. How is she going to do this alone?
She has you.
I release a slow breath as my prayers center me and remind me of Who is in control.
I’ve never taken such care with my appearance when readying for church as I have today.
My reflection stares back at me. The long black skirt I paired with my pale pink long-sleeved silk shirt is a pretty combination.
My blouse is tucked into the waistband to show off my pink belt.
The diamond stud earrings are understated but elegant.
I certainly didn’t dress to impress Jabari, there’s no point. But my outfit is a statement that’ll bolster my confidence as I prepare to meet my family drama head-on.
“Val, you ready?” Fran calls.
The sound of Fran’s voice leads me to the kitchen, where she’s leaning against the sink, stuffing her mouth with a cinnamon roll sans icing. My sister is such a weirdo.
“Where did you get that?”
“Bakery down the street,” she muffles around a mouthful, then points to the opposite counter.
Sitting on a blue pottery plate is a decadent roll covered in icing. My nirvana.
“You got me one too?” I breathe.
“Of course. I even had them make it extra sweet.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s not extra sweet. It’s called icing. A cinnamon roll without the icing is just a sad muffin.”
She laughs.
I sit at the eat-in table with a fork and knife and dive in.
“Jackie’s picking us up.”
Our sister does every Sunday, and Dad meets us all at the church. Afterward, we’ll all go out to eat for lunch and talk about how the past week has been. It almost turns into a work meeting, but thankfully Ollie usually steals the show and keeps us from being obsessive about our jobs.
“Are you going to tell her?” I ask.
Fran tilts her head. “I don’t know. I’ve prayed about it and know God will tell me when the timing is right.”
“I did something similar.” I don’t want to take Jackie by surprise when I tell her about my new friendship, but I do need to tell her. We’ll see when God nudges me in that direction.
“Val?”
“Hmm?” I say around my icing-covered mouthful of happiness.
“Do you think the people at church will judge me when I start to show?” She smooths a hand down her flat stomach.
My insides twist thinking of the potential rejection Fran will face. “If they do, that’s their issue and not yours.”
Fran sighs. “I know I was wrong. I shouldn’t have slept with Derrick since we’re not married.”
“Even though you did wrong, it doesn’t give them the right to also do wrong and judge you.
Instead, they should come alongside you and help you where needed.
” That’s what I want to do. I’m sad Fran broke our sister vow to wait until marriage, but I’m not about to crucify her.
How can I when I’ve been walking around with my own secrets, my own wrongs?
We finish our breakfast right when Jackie texts that she’s waiting outside. I wait until Fran locks the door, then loop my arm with hers.
“Nervous?” I ask.
“No. You?”
I think a moment. “Strangely, no.”
“Then let’s do this.”