Nobody’s Child (New Life Tabernacle Series Book 1)

C
opyright
© 2016 by LaShonda Bowman

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

F
or Sarah King

Your kindness was a life raft...

T
he morning sky
was gray and overcast, the perfect complement to Makayla Dawson’s mood and the day’s mission.

As the tightly packed city bus carried her to her destination, Makayla stared at the name scrawled across the torn piece of paper in her hand.

Makayla still had to get used to the “
Robin”
part. All her life, she’d only known her birth mother as Carrie. It was the name she'd given Ms. Baptiste when she showed up on the older woman’s front porch close to twenty years ago. It was also one of the two names engraved on the singular possession she left behind when she walked out on her newborn daughter. A gold heart pendant with the inscription,
Carrie + Junior
.

Makayla crumpled the paper in her fist and stuffed it in the side pocket of her messenger bag.

Two more hours.

Just two more hours and it would all be over. This time tomorrow, she’d be on a bus to Denver and on her way to a fresh start. All she had to do was get through the next two hours.

She’d mentally rehearsed her plan every night since she'd arrived. All that was left was execution. Only, she hadn’t anticipated being so anxious. She tightened her shaking hands into fists and took in a slow, deep breath.

She needed to calm down or man up or do whatever else it took to get the job done. Every cell in her body was telling her to get off the bus and run in the opposite direction, but she refused to give in.

She’d come to Texas to get revenge and she was determined to see it through.

Reaching in her bag, Makayla took out the compact she'd bought from the Dollar Store. She didn't know if it was nerves or anticipation, but she found herself checking her reflection every five minutes. Normally, she didn't give her appearance a second thought. But today was different. She
needed
to look good. She needed her mother to see she’d turned out all right without her.

In addition to buying a new dress, she’d went to a hair salon the day before. She'd never been to one and had no idea how expensive they could be. After she’d recovered from the sticker shock, the receptionist practically had to pry the money out of Makayla's hand. And not because the stylist hadn't done a good job. She had. Makayla just wasn’t used to spending so much money in one place.

But when it was all said and done, she was glad she’d splurged. When she walked into New Life Tabernacle, instead of looking like a hand-me-down welfare kid, she was going in looking Grand Prize. The confidence alone was worth the money she’d spent. And confidence was what she’d need to get up in front of a church full of people and expose Robin Jones for the hypocrite she was.

Makayla was pulled from her thoughts as the bus screeched to a stop. A few people got on, but afterward, the bus continued to idle. Moments later, she realized it was because of an older woman struggling to get up the steps.

Makayla craned her neck to watch and could hardly believe what she saw. Not even one of the able-bodied men sitting by the door offered a hand to help.

As the woman made her way down the aisle, person after person remained seated, suddenly too interested in the view outside their window or the screen of their smart phone to look at the old woman or offer up their seat.

Makayla stared down the three young men sitting across from her. The three that had paid particularly close attention to her rear when she boarded a few stops earlier. One of them saw her staring and quickly looked away.

Unbelievable
.

In a voice loud enough for everyone on the bus to hear, she said, "Trifling." She stood up, waved at the woman and motioned toward her seat. "You can sit here, ma'am."

The woman looked so grateful and relieved, it broke Makayla's heart.

The bus started moving again, so Makayla made her way to the woman and helped her to the back. She had to be in her eighties, at least, but her ebony skin was still smooth over her high cheekbones.

Like Makayla, she was dressed to the nines.

"Oh, I sure do thank God for you, baby," she said, putting her hand on Makayla's arm to steady herself.

Her skin felt thinner than it looked and was incredibly soft. It reminded Makayla of the woman who raised her. The woman she’d called grandma and the one person she knew loved her.

At the memory of Nadine Baptiste, Makayla felt a flicker of shame. If her grandmother were still alive to see how she’d turned out, if she knew what Makayla was about to do…

She couldn’t help but wonder how different things would've been had her grandmother lived long enough for Makayla to be out on her own. Maybe she wouldn’t be in Dallas or on that bus, about to do what she was going to do. Not for the first time in her life, Makayla’s heart burned with regret and missed opportunity. Had her grandmother lived—

No. Don't whine over things that can't be changed. It's a waste of time. This is what you were left with. This is what you've got. Deal with it.

Makayla needed to think about something else.
Anything
else. She couldn't let the memory of her grandmother deter her now. Not when she was so close.

Besides, whatever happened to Robin Caroline Jones was what she had coming. Isn't that what the so-called, Good Book, declared? You reap what you sow?

The older woman dropped down on the seat at the back of the bus and looked up at Makayla with a dazzling smile.

"You on your way to church, baby?"

"Yes, ma'am.”

The woman nodded, causing the little flowers gathered at the top of her pillbox hat to tremble.

"Does my heart good to see young people making their way to church."

They talked for a few minutes until the bus came to another stop.

"Well, this is me," the woman said, struggling to get up. Makayla couldn't bear to see her stumble down the aisle alone again, so she helped her to the front of the bus and down the steps.

"You catching another one here?"

"No, baby. I'm just a few steps away." She pointed in the opposite direction.

Makayla grimaced. A few steps? It was more like a block to the tiny church on the corner. Along the way, the sidewalk was made up of cracked and buckled concrete.

Makayla leaned her head in the doorway of the bus and told the driver, "I'm going to walk her to the door. I'll be right back."

The woman didn't turn to acknowledge Makayla. She just popped her gum and replied, "This ain't a taxi service. I got a schedule to keep. You in or you out."

The little old woman patted Makayla's arm. "Don't worry about me, baby. Go on and get to church."

Makayla gave a pleading look to the driver and the driver cocked an eyebrow.

“In or out.”

Forget in or out. What Makayla really wanted to do was kick of her heels and jump the woman where she sat. Instead, she said, "Go on. I'll take the next one."

The driver shrugged and the bus roared away as Makayla helped the older woman to her destination. Just before she left, the woman squeezed her hand and said, "God bless you, baby. God bless you!"

Makayla knew there was no such thing as God. At least, not the kind the older woman believed in, but she smiled and nodded politely. She waited until the woman was through the church doors before walking back to the bus stop.

Not sixty seconds later, the cloudy sky that had threatened downpour since she’d gotten up that morning, finally made good on its promise.

The rain came down in sheets. Within minutes, Makayla’s dress was saturated and her hair was soaked to her scalp.

To make matters worse, there was nothing she could do to stop it. The free newspaper boxes on the sidewalk were mostly empty. She snatched out the few job flyers that were left and held them over her head, but they offered little cover and soon became too drenched to make a difference.

Makayla looked down the street at the quiet Sunday morning traffic. There wouldn't be another bus for at least ten minutes. She already looked like she’d jumped in a pool, no telling what she’d look like by then. A wet rat, most likely.

She couldn't meet her mother for the first time looking like that.

Makayla walked to the corner and pushed the tiny button on the stoplight post.

Robin Jones had been out of town since Makayla had arrived. And from what she understood, she was gone often. There was no telling how long she’d be in Dallas before she left again. Which meant there was no telling how long Makayla would have to stay before she got another chance.

Denver would have to wait. Again. The thought created a heaviness in her chest and made a lump in her throat.

But then another thought occurred to her.

Her plan had been to out Mommy Dearest in front of the whole congregation. That obviously wouldn’t happen today, with Makayla looking the way she did. But that didn’t mean she had to go home. She could still go to the church, just to get a peek. Her mother wouldn't even have to know she was there. No, it wasn’t what she’d come for, but it was something…

The sign flashed WALK in green digital letters, but Makayla didn't move.

She'd waited so long.

Too long.

Makayla walked back to the bus stop.

She'd waited long enough.