Nobody’s Child (New Life Tabernacle Series Book 1) (22 page)

B
y the time
Makayla busted through the front door, she was wheezing for breath. Denice, on her hands and knees, cleaning the kitchen floor, popped up.

“What’s wrong?”

Makayla tried to tell her, but she was too winded to get the words out. It took a few moments for Denice to understand what she was trying to say.

"Good Morning America?"

Makayla, hunched over with her hands on her knees, nodded vigorously.

"That's what's on now.” Denice said, pointing at the small, square television. “Why? What’s going on?”

Makayla straightened up and took a deep and painful breath. "Robin. Has a story about Robin been on yet?"

Denice scrunched up her nose. "Who’s that?"

Makayla struggled not to be short with Denice. There was no need to take out the anger she was feeling on an innocent bystander. She'd already done enough of that. It’s what started the whole mess she was in now.

"The Jaguar woman. The one who used to come to my place."

"On the TV? What would she be—“ Denice's eyes grew wide.

"Was she on there?"

“Uh, well, I was only halfway paying attention because I was doing the floor, but they did mention a story coming up. A fall from grace or something like that. When they said it, they showed video of a black lady trying to get into a car."

Makayla grabbed the remote and turned the volume up. "That must be it.”

They had to wait for another hour and a half. Makayla didn’t sit still for a minute of it. If she wasn't tapping her foot, she was walking around the couch. At one point Denice told her she was making her nervous, and if she didn't cut it out, she’d toss the television out the window.

Finally, after what felt like the millionth commercial break, Bree was introduced. She was syrupy sweet and playing the reluctant hero while the lady who interviewed her ate it up.

Makayla's nails dug into the couch upholstery. It was all she could do to keep from throwing the television out the window herself.

"What's sad about the whole situation is that Robin Jones has made a difference in so many people's lives,” Bree said, looking intensely disappointed.

The blonde interviewer nodded, appearing equally dismayed. “I understand you struggled with whether to come forward.”

"Oh, I did. I
really
did. There were many sleepless nights, that's for sure. Because the truth is, Ms. Jones has built a career out of helping people. I was afraid some of her critics might look at the scandal and try to discount all the good she's done. But in the end, I realized the truth is what matters. There are women and girls all over the country who look up to her. I felt I owed it to
them
to speak that truth. As a result, I’ve had to suffer verbal attacks on social media from Ms. Jones’ friends and associates. But you know what? I have to be able to look myself in the mirror every morning. I couldn’t do that while keeping this secret.”

The interviewer nodded again, deeply moved by Bree’s selflessness. “Well, thank you for being here and for speaking out. I know this hasn’t been easy.” Then, turning to the anchors at the news desk, she continued. “This shocking revelation has had quite an impact on Ms. Jones’ book release. Isn't that right, John?"

"Absolutely, Mary. While actual numbers are not yet available, booksellers are reporting a drastic drop in sales. And her position as a New York Times best-selling author is not the only thing in jeopardy. A spokeswoman for Daughters of Hannah, a national organization, has issued a public statement condemning Jones for what she calls, ‘self-serving hypocrisy.’”

They cut to a sound bite of a woman in a coat and scarf wearing a baseball cap. She was standing outside of a huge building, in front of a sign that read, The Morris DeWitt Convention Center.

"We are appalled. Robin Jones was one of the first celebrities from the African-American community to come out and publicly speak about the experience of infertility. She was one of our strongest supporters. And now to discover she was just using the issue as a platform…” The woman shook her head in disgust. “It’s revolting. That's why we called for a boycott.”

The feed cut back to the news desk where the blonde had joined John and the third host.

"The boycott she's referring to is for the Irwin Women In Business Symposium, where Jones was scheduled to present this weekend. Whether she was asked to leave or pulled out on her own, is unclear. Several attempts have been made by GMA producers to contact Ms. Jones, but the only response from her camp since news broke has been ‘no comment.’”

As he spoke, they cut to the video footage Denice had mentioned earlier. In it, Robin tried to get from airport baggage claim to a car waiting at curbside, but a group of paparazzi and three camera crews mobbed her every step of the way.

At first glance, Makayla found her unrecognizable. She’d lost weight. She no longer had the straight and elegant posture Makayla had admired more than once. Her shoulders sagged and she moved as if she were twenty years older. Though she wore large sunglasses, they didn’t hide the gaunt appearance of her face.

The photographers were all screaming and yelling questions at her. Things like:

“How does it feel to be exposed like this?"

“Have you made contact with your daughter?"

“Why is she living in poverty-stricken circumstances?"

Rapid fire, the questions came like bullets. Robin’s mouth quivered each time one hit. At one point, she put her hand to her cheek, as if she’d been slapped. But she did little else.

Makayla stood and paced the floor. "Why isn't she saying anything? Why isn't she defending herself?"

She seemed so frail and tired as the paparazzi pressed in on her, pushing her side to side, trying to get close enough for the perfect shot.

"Say something!" Makayla screamed at the television.

Helplessly, Denice looked at her, then back at the television. She leapt from the couch, snatched the remote off the coffee table and turned off the TV.

Makayla roamed the room, whimpering, her hands balled into fists.

"Makayla," Denice whispered. “Take a breath."

Take a breath? She wanted to punch a wall.

"This right here? You getting all worked up? It's not doing anyone any good. What you need to do is calm down so you can think this through."

"This story came out…what? Four, five days ago?" Makayla tightened her fists further. "She hasn't released a statement, she hasn't done a press conference, she hasn't said a word! All over the Internet, they’re ripping her to shreds! People that don't even know her. And she could stop it! Right now! All she has to do is
say
something!"

"And then what? You think anybody's gonna believe her?"

"Yes! All she has to do is tell the truth. Then—“

Makayla stopped pacing.

"Then…all your secrets become front page news.”

Makayla stared at Denice and shook her head. That couldn't be the reason. She knew Robin cared about her, but that went beyond caring. That was insane. Nobody could care that much. Love that much.

But hadn’t Robin said it? That she loved her? Hadn’t she
shown
it? Time and again?

But those three words had never meant much to Makayla. She knew the phrase was one of those that people said, but didn't mean. Phrases like, God bless you. We should get together. I love you. Just words. Nothing more.

Until now.

Now it was a fifteen-year career being torn down, brick by brick. A pristine reputation being smeared without cause. Every good thing Robin had ever done, obliterated into nothing.

And for what?

A secret.

A secret that wasn't even hers to keep.

Makayla's knees became weak. She reached for the arm of the couch and lowered herself next to Denice.

"From what you say about her, she don't strike me as the type to throw you under the bus. Even if it's just to save herself, that's exactly what she'd have to do. I guess when you think about it, only one of y'all was gonna come outta this clean. Looks like to me, she decided it’d be you."

I
nstead of joining
Denice on her weekly trip to the food bank, Makayla took her familiar bus route to New Life Tabernacle.

She entered the church to find the choir in the middle of a rousing rehearsal. She hadn't been to the building since the day she came with Marcus and Robin. Just like that day, only some of the lights were on in the sanctuary and it was enough to bring back every horrible feeling and memory. It was almost enough to make her have second thoughts.

Almost.

Despite the urge to leave, she forced her feet to continue on to the administrative section of the building and the reception area of Pastor Thomas' office. She told his secretary she didn’t have an appointment, but needed to see him right away. Though she gave Makayla a wary glance, she called Pastor Thomas to let him know she was waiting.

When Makayla entered the office, Pastor Thomas was signing papers he then handed off to a waiting minister. No sooner than the young man left, she got straight to the point.

"I've made a huge mess. I'm hoping you can help me clean it up."

Pastor Thomas studied her, then leaned back in his chair.

“I’m listening.”

S
unday morning arrived
and Makayla found herself back in the same office. But this time, resisting every impulse she had to run straight out the door marked EXIT was a whole lot harder.

Pastor Thomas sensed her agitation.

"It won't be long now. We’re going to take care of this first thing, before the service even starts. What time does your bus leave?"

“One o'clock."

Her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. If she had trouble answering a simple question about her travel plans, how in the world could she do what she and the pastor had planned?

Pastor Thomas got down on one knee next to her chair and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Take a deep breath. You're going to be all right." Then, closing his eyes, he prayed. “Father, this young woman needs Your strength and courage now. Uphold her with Your strong right hand. Let the peace that surpasses all understanding be a comfort to her now. In Jesus’ mighty name, we do pray. Amen."

Less than a year ago, Makayla would’ve rolled her eyes. Less than a year ago, Makayla wasn't even convinced God existed. But there was no denying the calm that washed over her. Not only that, she felt the sudden assurance everything would be okay.

She was about to thank him when the door opened and one of his assistant ministers popped his head in. "They're all here and set up, Pastor. Ready when you are."

Pastor Thomas looked at Makayla. She nodded. She couldn't say she was ready, but she was willing. That would have to be enough. She followed him into the sanctuary and onto the platform. The only other time she'd been there was for the christening. The memory made her stomach clench.

She wondered if Robin was in one of the pews, amid the other congregants. She hoped not. What she’d come to do was hard enough. Having to do it in front of Robin would be nearly impossible. She doubted Robin would be there though. With the lies being told on TV and online, no one would’ve blamed her for hiding out for the next few months. But hopefully, after today, she wouldn't have to.

Right below the pulpit, lined up across the floor, were four camera crews. Makayla had to blink a few times to adjust to the glare of the light set-ups pointed in her direction. The brightness made it impossible to see the first ten rows of seats. She was glad for that.

Pastor Thomas took the microphone out of its clip and addressed the congregation.

”Some of you might recognize this young lady from the salacious and biased news reports of the past week. If you don't, just know that some mean-spirited accusations have been made concerning one of our most beloved members. This brave young lady here," he said, patting Makayla on the shoulder, "has decided to come forward and do what's right, instead of what's comfortable. I admire that. Please give her your utmost attention.”

He handed the mic to Makayla and took a step back.

"My name—“ She stopped at the sound of her voice, thin and hollow, projected over the sound system.

Behind her, Pastor Thomas encouraged her to continue. She cleared her throat and swallowed. Then she unfolded a piece of paper and read the words she’d spent all night writing and rewriting.

"My name is Makayla Dawson. I am twenty years old. It has been reported that I am the abandoned child of Robin Caroline Jones." She paused, not wanting to give voice to the next three words. But they were the only three words that would make a difference. “It’s not true.”

Saying it out loud hurt worse than anything Kim or Antoine ever did. Despite that, she took a deep breath and continued.

"None of the things you've heard about her are true. I've never met a kinder, more caring person. She loved me when I gave her every reason not to. So you might be wondering, if the stories aren’t true, how did they get out there?"

Again, Makayla faltered. When the press conference aired, Robin would know what she’d done.
All
of it. Though they’d never see each other again, Makayla never wanted Robin to know about her connection to Bree. Now that she would, any kind thoughts she might’ve had left for Makayla would surely disappear.

“I was the source of the stories. I came here to hurt her. To make her pay for abandoning me when I was just a few days old. But I had it all wrong. My biological mother was a young woman who was raped by her uncle. A short while after I was born, she died alone and by her own hand because she was too ashamed of the truth. I guess that's one thing the two of us have in common.

“I’d planned on being somewhere else by now. Some place where no one would judge me because no one would know who I am. I thought if I could hide all the things I was ashamed of, I could pretend they never happened. I’m not so sure that’s how it works anymore…”

A lightbulb flashed and Makayla was reminded of how many people would hear what she said and see her face as she said it. On one hand, it was her biggest fear made reality—the world would know what she was and where she’d come from. On the other hand, the more people who saw it, the better things would be for Robin. And that more than made up for any shame that came as a result.

“I want to publicly apologize to Ms. Jones for what I did. All the pain and suffering I caused. And I want to thank her for trying to protect me, even when I didn't deserve it."

The room was completely still. She turned, looking for Pastor Thomas and whispered, "That's all."

He came to her and took the mic she held out to him. And then, to her surprise, he put his arms around her.

"God bless you, Makayla."

When he let her go, she saw that he had tears in his eyes.

"I wish I could do what you just did." He shook his head and sighed. "I haven't had the backbone, but maybe with your example and the grace of God, I'll have courage yet."