I Can Do Better All By Myself:

Book 5: New Day Divas

by E.N. Joy

Genres: African American Christian; African American Women's Fiction; Christian Suspense

Synopsis

The singles ministry at New Day Temple of Faith is beginning to unravel, and the pastor is considering dissolving it. Some members believe the only way to hold it together is by getting their pastor to join. And why shouldn't their leader show support by joining, considering the pastor's own single status? Some church members support the idea, while others frown upon the fact that they are being led by a shepherd who is single in the first place. It becomes an all-out war, with one side wanting the pastor to embrace singlehood, while others secretly play matchmaker. Marriage has been the furthest thing from the pastor's mind, not because there hasn't been an opportunity, but because there really hasn't been time. With a needy congregation facing trials and tribulations, the pastor has no time to play the dating game. Being a pastor on call 24/7, who has time for a serious relationship, other than the one with God? Eventually, decisions have to made around New Day. Will these decisions mend the ministry or destroy the church?

Release date: April 24, 2012

Publisher: End of the Rainbow Projects

Print pages: 304

Sample

Paige had no idea how long she had been sitting in her car outside of her best friend’s house. She had no idea until Tamarra told her. That wasn’t until after Tamarra scared the living daylights out of her when she wrapped on the driver-side window.

“Jesus!” Paige yelled out. She was calling on the name of Jesus all right, but not just because her best friend had frightened her. “Jesus!” Paige said again; this time as if she were summoning Him down from heaven for help. “Jesus!”

“Paige, girl, are you okay in there?” Tamarra asked through the window.

Without replying, Paige stared straight ahead.

“Paige, do you hear me?” Tamarra cupped her hands around her oval-shaped face and pressed against the window.

Still, Tamarra heard no reply from Paige, but she did hear the clicking of the locks. Tamarra went to open the driver’s door, but that’s when she realized the car doors were locked. “Paige, unlock the doors,” Tamarra said as she wiggled the handle. “You locked the doors instead of unlocked them.”

Tamarra wasn’t telling Paige anything she didn’t already know. She knew she’d just locked the doors. She meant to do that. As a matter of fact, she wished she’d locked them sooner—like as soon as she had pulled up. She couldn’t believe she’d been sitting there in the late-night hours with the doors unlocked, especially after what had just happened to her. But still staring straight ahead, Paige realized that it was better late than never.

“Paige. Paige,” Tamarra continued to call out, but now there was a hint of worry behind her tone. “Unlock the door,” she ordered. “Unlock the door, sweetheart.” Realizing her voice was getting a little loud, Tamarra thought she might sweeten up her request a bit by adding a term of endearment at the end of it.

“Sweetheart,” Paige mumbled under her lips. She then turned her head to face Tamarra. “He called me that too.”

Tamarra’s hand immediately flew over her mouth in shock once she saw Paige’s face. “Paige, oh my God. Wha ... what happened?” Now Tamarra frantically began trying to open the car door.

Paige just turned her head and stared straight ahead. Tears began to fall from her eyes, one drop at a time. The hot tears glided over the deep dimples in her dark chocolate skin.

Her eyes weren’t the only ones leaking the salty liquid. Tears now made their way down Tamarra’s oak with a gloss finish complexion. After seeing her best friend’s face, she was beside herself. In a panicked style, she ran her hands down her shoulder-length hair that she wore natural. She didn’t know if she was really doing it out of panic and nervousness, or if she just wasn’t used to the length yet since having let it grow out.

“Paige, let me in this car right now,” Tamarra demanded. Tears continued to flow from her eyes as she still made attempts at opening the door. She had to get her best friend out of the car. Something wasn’t right. Something was very, very wrong. It was as if Paige had just driven her car into a lake, and slowly but surely, the car was filling up with water. Paige was drowning inside. Tamarra had to save her.

“Come on, please unlock the door,” Tamarra begged. “It’s one-thirty in the morning. I know something’s going on. You’ve been sitting out here over an hour.” Tamarra knew this because one of her neighbors had told her so. It was her neighbor’s phone call informing her that a car had been parked outside of her house since around midnight that had awakened her out of a good sleep. Her neighbor also informed her that someone was sitting in the car. Tamarra was a little frightened by this news at first. She didn’t know if she had a stalker or what. Once she got out of bed, inched over to her window, and peeked through the curtains, she realized it was Paige’s car. She breathed a sigh of relief, then told her neighbor that she recognized the car, the person in it, and everything was okay.

Putting on nothing but a housecoat to protect her from the evening air of the last days of spring, Tamarra quickly walked outside. She stopped and put on the pair of flip-flops she kept by the side door that she always threw on if she had to go do some lawn watering or whatnot. But right now, the fact that she was standing outside in a robe and flip-flops was the last thing on her mind. Getting Paige out of that car was the first—the only thought.

“Paige, honey, you’ve got to get out of that car and come inside the house. We’ve got to get your face taken care of,” Tamarra said.

Paige, as if having an epiphany, raised her hand and touched her face. It was swollen; her cheek. It was swollen; her eye. It was swollen; her lip. Even when it came to her hand; it was swollen too. Paige began to cry at the touch. She’d never felt this way before; in so much pain. She’d never felt this way before; either internally or externally.

“Paige, you’re hurt. We have to get you inside. I can’t just let you sit out here. So if you don’t unlock the door, I’m going to have to call the police because I’m scared, Paige. I’m scared,” Tamarra confessed as her voice cracked and more tears spilled from her eyes.

Paige shook her head, signaling that she didn’t want the police called. Then lowering her hand from her face, Paige turned to look at Tamarra. The expression on her face was questioning. It was questioning Tamarra. “Can you believe this? Is this really me?” Paige’s eyes asked her best friend.

“Who did this to you, Paige? Did somebody hurt you?” Tamarra inquired.

Paige turned her face away in shame.

“It’s okay; just tell me. Did someone hurt you?”

Paige nodded.

Tamarra swallowed her cries. She already knew the answer before asking. She’d seen the answer by the look in Paige’s eyes. Tamarra, once upon a time as a young girl, had worn that same expression many times. Usually it was after she’d bathed and looked at herself in the mirror each time after her brother raped her.

“Paige, did someone ... did someone rape you ... sexually assault you?”

Once again, Paige nodded.

“Then, Paige, honey, please let me call the police. Or at least let me call Blake,” Tamarra offered, thinking that maybe her husband could talk her out of the car.

“No!” Paige yelled.

Although her harsh response had made Tamarra jump, at least Paige had finally shot off a verbal response. Before Tamarra could part her lips to say anything else, swirling red and blue lights grabbed her mind’s attention.

“Paige, the police are here,” Tamarra said through the window. “One of my neighbors must have called them. I know you didn’t want me to call them, but they’re here now. Please, Paige, talk to them. Tell them what happened to you.”

Tamarra felt as though she had some nerve. She never told the police what had happened to her. Maybe if she had reported the rapes to the police, she could have prevented other girls from being assaulted by her brother. Although she’d made a mistake, she didn’t want to sit by and watch her friend make the same one.

“Is everything okay?” an officer walked up and asked after parking his vehicle. “We got a couple complaints about a suspicious vehicle and possible disturbance,” he informed Tamarra.

“No, everything is not okay,” Tamarra was quick to say. “My friend’s been assaulted. She’s hurt, and she’s scared.” Tamarra began to break down.

“It’s okay, Miss ...” the officer stated as he waited for Tamarra to fill in the blank.

“It’s Miss Davis,” Tamarra informed him, gathering her composure. “I live here.” Tamarra pointed to her house. “I got a call from one of my neighbors not too long ago telling me that a car had been parked outside of my house for a while. When I realized it was my best friend’s, Paige, I came out. I’ve been trying to get her to come out of the car, but she won’t.” Tamarra began to break down again.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” the officer told Tamarra. “Let me see what I can do.”

Tamarra moved out of the officer’s way as he approached the driver-side door. “Hello ... Paige.” He looked at Tamarra to make sure he’d gotten the name correct. Tamarra confirmed with a nod. “I’m Officer Lavene. Your friend here is very worried about you. She says someone hurt you. Is that true?”

Without looking in the officer’s direction, Paige nodded.

“What did they do to you, Paige?” the officer asked.

This time she didn’t nod, she just looked in the officer’s direction. That’s when he saw how battered her face was.

“Did this person or persons hit you?” he asked.

Staring in the officer’s eyes, Paige nodded.

“Did they ... did they sexually assault you in any way?” he continued questioning.

Once again, Paige nodded.

“Can you tell me what happened, Paige?”

Paige nodded, but she didn’t say anything.

“It’s okay. You can go ahead and tell me. I’m the police. I’m going to help you.”

Paige’s lips never moved for what seemed like forever. Tamarra just wanted her to hurry up and tell the officer what was going on so that they could help her and get a start on catching the bad guy who’d done this to her. So many things ran through Tamarra’s mind about what could have possibly happened to Paige. Had she been on that late-night Walmart run women were known to take? Had some stranger been watching her? Followed her to her car and attacked her? What had happened?

Although Tamarra thought she was going to have one of her anxiety attacks that she hadn’t had in quite some time, the officer was calm and patient. He didn’t push. He asked Paige if she could tell him what happened. She’d said she could. He waited, as if he knew eventually, when the time was right, when Paige was truly ready, she would tell him.

Tamarra could tell the officer was experienced at this kind of thing by his etiquette and relaxed demeanor in the situation. She wasn’t, though, as she stood at the back door on the driver’s side.

“Paige, please tell the officer—”

The officer held up his hand to cut Tamarra off, halting her words. He wasn’t pushing, and he didn’t want Tamarra to push either. Now they both waited.

The wait wasn’t long, just a few seconds, but with dead silence, it felt like an eternity to Tamarra. But finally, Paige spoke.

“He ... he hit me.” Paige’s lips trembled. “And ... and he raped me,” Paige cried out. “He raped me! He raped me!” She shouted over and over as she began to lose control, locked in the front seat of her car.

“It’s okay, calm down, Paige,” the officer said. “It’s okay. We’re going to take care of you.” In that instant, the officer got on his walkie-talkie and called for backup. He told the dispatch officer that he had a possible rape victim and needed female backup. Once he was assured assistance was on the way, he turned his attention back to Paige.

“Oh my God. Oh my God,” Paige cried. Then all of a sudden it was as if she had been having a bad nightmare and woke up back to reality. “Where’s Tamarra? Where’s Tamarra? Where’s my friend who lives here?” she badgered the officer.

“I’m right here, honey. I’m right here,” Tamarra assured her as she put herself within Paige’s view. “Unlock the car, Paige. Please.”

Paige fumbled to unlock the doors. Finally, Tamarra heard the clicking of the locks; the sound she’d been longing to hear for the past twenty minutes.

Immediately, Tamarra bent down and threw her arms around Paige’s trembling body. “It’s going to be okay. I’m here. The police are here. We’re going to take care of you.”

“The police?” Paige questioned.

“Yeah, remember? The nice officer here has been talking to you.” Tamarra released Paige and moved to the side so that Paige could get a view of the officer who had been so helpful.

“Nooo! Get away from me! Get away from me! Get him out of here!” Paige began to kick, scream, and holler. “It’s him! It’s him. He’s the one,” Paige cried. “I was naked. I just wanted to cover up. I just wanted to cover up.”

Tamarra stood and stared at the officer in shock. Was he the one who’d attacked Paige? Had a neighbor really called the police, or had he just been lurking around?

Noticing the look Tamarra was giving him, the officer felt the need to clear things up. “I ... I’m just here to help. I even have backup on the way.”

The officer looked innocent enough. He looked like a good cop, but then again, what did a bad cop look like? Turning her attention back to Paige, Tamarra asked her friend, “Are you saying a cop did this to you, Paige?”

“No,” Paige shook her head. “When I was arrested... it was him.” Paige pointed an accusing finger at the officer. “He drug me out of the house naked for the entire world to see.”

Just then a light bulb went off in both the officer’s and Tamarra’s head.

“Mrs. Dickenson?” the officer asked. He then looked at Tamarra. “Is this Mrs. Blake Dickenson?” Paige’s face was lightweight deformed, and her hair was down versus the ponytail that she usually wore.

“Yes,” Tamarra replied, “and you must be the overzealous rookie cop that arrested Paige a couple months ago.”

“For that assault charge against her husband’s sister or something like that,” the officer confirmed to Tamarra, then looked at Paige. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Dickenson. Trust me, when my superior suspended me for a week with no pay, I didn’t complain. I deserved it. I was new to all this. I’m still new, but for the last month I’ve had sensitivity training. Really, I’m sorry.” The officer couldn’t seem to apologize enough, but Paige wasn’t having it.

“No, get him away from me,” she told Tamarra. “Get him away from me!”

Just then, more flashing lights appeared, and within seconds, a female officer got out of the passenger side of a second cop car. The driver, another male officer, got out of the car and walked midway to Paige’s vehicle. The male officer who’d already been on the scene met the driver of the second cop car while the female officer made her way over to Paige.

“Hi, I’m Officer Moten,” the woman smiled.

“I’m Tamarra,” Tamarra greeted her, “and this is my best friend Paige.”

Paige still sat in the car crying.

Tamarra moved out of the way so that the officer could talk to Paige.

“Hi, Paige.” The officer leaned down into the car. “My partner tells me that someone hurt you. Is that true?”

“Yes,” Paige said.

“That someone raped you?” The officer got more specific.

“Yes,” Paige confirmed.

“We’d like to help you, Paige. We’d also like to get the person who did this to you as well. Do you know who did this to you, Paige?”

Paige’s eyes closed, but that didn’t keep the tears from spilling out. Her shoulders began to heave as she nodded to the officer, and then followed it up with a, “Yes. I know the person who did this to me.”

“So it was just one person?” the officer asked.

“Yes,” Paige sniffed.

“Paige, can you tell me who this person was?”

Taking a deep breath in an attempt to control her breathing, Paige opened her eyes and said, “Yes. I can tell you who did this to me.”

“Good,” the officer said, taking out a notepad and a pen. “What is the name of the person who raped you, Paige?”

“Blake Dickenson,” Paige answered as the officer began to write. “My husband, Blake Dickenson; he’s the one who raped me.”

“Why are you always the one who’s gotta take that girl to her doctor’s appointments?” Eleanor asked Lorain as the two finished up breakfast at Family Café. “Can’t her baby’s daddy take her? After all, it’s his baby she’s toting around.” Eleanor then mumbled under her breath before taking in a spoonful of grits with cheese, “Like she needs another child to be toting around. She needs another baby like she needs a hole in her head. Matter of fact, somebody should have put a hole in her head for getting knocked up with no husband ... again.” Eleanor chewed and swallowed before concluding with, “What’s this, baby number six?”

Lorain rolled her eyes in her head. “No, Mom. This is only going to be Unique’s fourth baby. And I take her to her appointments because she’s my friend. I’ve told you before she’s like a daughter to me.”

“Well, you’re more than just like a daughter to me. You are my daughter, which means if you’re supposed to meet me somewhere, I don’t want to hear nothing about you being late because you had to take Octomom to the doctors.”

“Mother, now that’s enough,” Lorain said, trying her best to hold in her laughter.

“Well, you know it’s the truth.” Eleanor shook her head. “I just don’t see how or why that girl ended up pregnant again.” She thought for a moment. “Well, I know how... but you know what I mean.”

“Yes, Mom, I know what you mean. And that’s none of our business.”

“It is too our business, especially when it’s our tax dollars that’s gotta pay for it.” Eleanor leaned in closer and now decided to whisper. “Or even our tithes and offerings. Because you know that girl ain’t gonna be able to take care of that baby with no husband. She gonna be running to Pastor every month for help. Heck, forget about a Benevolent Fund. Pastor might as well start a Child Support Fund, because that’s what we’re about to do—pay that girl’s child support every month.”

“Mom, she is our sister in Christ. Are we not our sister’s and brother’s keeper?” Lorain shook her head with disappointment. She was disappointed in the way her mother was acting regarding Unique, but she understood why. Eleanor was exhibiting something that she’d once accused Lorain of being, which was good old-fashioned jealousy.

For the past three months, Lorain had been spending a great amount of time with Unique. That meant less time she had to spend with her mother. For the first couple months after Broady’s death, Lorain had been pretty much glued to her mother’s hip. She had to be there to support her; not just because her mother had lost a husband, but because after the fact, while still mourning, her mother learned that Broady had been Lorain’s childhood sex abuser.

At first, that load being piled on top of Eleanor seemed like almost too much for the then fragile older woman to bear. But thank God Eleanor knew Jesus and had the support of her daughter, who also knows Jesus. Because without Him, she never would have made it through. Lorain was there to praise God and pray to God with and for her mother. She was there to intercede in a mighty way. When all was said and done, the devastation seemed to bring the mother and daughter closer. But now, in Eleanor’s eyes, it appeared as though that fresh bond was being threatened by Unique. Eleanor wasn’t having it. But even though Eleanor knew Jesus, right about now, she wasn’t acting like it.

“Young lady, are you questioning my Christianity?” Eleanor snapped after feeling convicted. “I know we are supposed to love our neighbors. I know I’m supposed to take care of the poor. I know as a Christian I’m supposed to be concerned about that girl. But what I’m not supposed to be is that girl’s baby daddy, and neither are you. That baby she’s carrying ain’t none of yours; yet you’re running around here like you the daddy. Making late-night runs to get her pickles and ice cream. Taking her to the doctors. Watching her kids for her while she gets some rest. And I don’t even know why she’s so tired. It ain’t like she’s working anymore. Didn’t she lose her job working for Sister Tamarra? And you’re going to lose your job as well, going in late to work all the time. . .