Right Package, Wrong Baggage

by Wanda B. Campbell

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

Synopsis

For five years, Pamela Roberts, has balanced the demands of being a single mother and a devoted Christian. She unselfishly places the needs of her son, Matthew, above her own. Although she tries to convince everyone that she's happy with Jesus alone, Matthew handpicks the perfect present for her—a husband. Everything about the man her son chooses is perfect, except for his past. Micah Stevenson is excited when he learns the son of the woman he has been praying about wants him to join their family permanently. Believing Pamela Roberts is his soul mate sent from God, Micah pursues her. Once he is certain of her love for him, Micah reveals his dark history, shaking the foundation of the once loving and stable relationship. Trust is broken as judgments and prejudices threaten to deny the couple's destiny. Will the man he used to be prevent Pamela from loving Micah for the man he is now?

Release date: October 1, 2010

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 304

Sample

Pamela pressed her notary seal firmly into the document, then glanced at the clock on the wall. Almost done, she thought, looking in the direction of her clients. She loved assisting first-time home buyers the most at the title company where she worked as senior escrow officer. Pamela took pleasure in helping new homeowners purchase their piece of the American dream, particularly, single mothers like her.

At age twenty-nine and widowed, Pamela understood firsthand the pressure of making ends meet. If it weren’t for her parents’ help with a down payment after the untimely death of her husband five years ago, Pamela would still be renting a one-bedroom apartment instead of owning a threebedroom town house in Berkeley.

Today, her clients were newlyweds, married seven months and already purchasing their first home. Every so often, Pamela would look up from the pile of documents and catch a glimpse of the couples’ interaction. The husband and wife constantly touched one another and addressed each other by cute nicknames. The wife blushed constantly. Every so often, the husband kissed her cheek.

Pamela wondered what that kind of love felt like. What did it feel like to love a man and for him love her back? That question made her check the clock again. If she didn’t hurry, she may never find out.

Thirty minutes later, Pamela stood at her desk buttoning her coat, or at least trying to button her coat. Her hands trembled and her palms dripped with perspiration.

“Girl, let me help you with that.” The offer came from her best friend and fellow escrow officer, Jessica.

“Are you nervous?” Jessica asked, and then rescinded when Pamela twisted her face and at the same time rolled her eyes. “You’re right, that’s a stupid question. A blind man with two seeing-eye dogs can see that you’re nervous. You almost look petrified.” Jessica then laughed.

Pamela waited until Jessica finished buttoning her coat for her before she smacked her lips and said, “Forget you.”

“Watch it now. I’ll let you go on this date looking like John Witherspoon in Boomerang.”

Pamela couldn’t help but laugh at that scenario. “Jessica, I’m just so nervous about tonight,” she said, now serious. “I haven’t been on a real date in years. Up until yesterday, I wasn’t aware that such a thing as ‘dating etiquette’ existed. I don’t know how to dress for the occasion without sending the wrong message.” Pamela took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves. “Thanks so much for helping me select a dress and shoes for tonight. I probably would have worn one of my Sunday-go-to-meeting suits if you hadn’t intervened.”

“I know,” Jessica said as she reached for her own coat. “Why are you so nervous? You and Micah have been hanging out for over a month now.”

“But this is the first time we’re going somewhere without Matthew,” Pamela explained.

Jessica shrugged her shoulders. “I still don’t get it.”

“It’s easy to talk with Matthew around. We focus our attention and conversation on him. With him gone, I don’t know if we’ll have anything to talk about.” Pamela wrapped her scarf around her neck.

Jessica shook her head. “Girl, you are really letting your nerves get the best of you. I think the two of you will have a whole lot to talk about with Matthew away with your parents for the weekend. I bet Micah is ecstatic to finally have some one-on-one time with you.”

“I hope so. I’m just so out of touch with this dating thing. I don’t know what an appropriate or safe subject is anymore. I usually limit the scope of our phone conversations to church or the Bible.”

“That won’t be the case tonight.” Jessica paused to tie the belt on her coat. “But just in case you can’t find anything to talk about, ask that fine, saved man if he has a single brother for me.”

Pamela laughed.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Jessica, you are too funny.”

“Girl, I am not playin . I need God to send my soul mate while I can still produce eggs.”

Pamela finished laughing and placed her arm around Jessica’s shoulder. The two headed for the door. “I know he doesn’t have a brother. He told me he’s an only child.”

“What about a cousin, or an uncle?” Jessica persisted.

“I’ll ask, but I believe Micah Stevenson is one of a kind. Pamela prayed and hoped he was authentic.

The cold January wind beat against Pamela’s face the moment she stepped from the building. She pulled her scarf up over her face and braved the blustery weather. By the time she’d made it across the parking lot and into the confines of her Altima, she was so cold her bones ached. That’s the only thing she disliked about the Bay Area—the traditional January winds and rainstorms.

On the drive home, she was more cautious than normal. At yellow lights she applied the brakes instead of speeding through the intersections. Pamela prayed all the way home against mechanical failures and unexpected traffic delays. Arriving late might cause her to miss her destiny.

Micah pulled his SUV into his parking stall so fast that when he applied his brakes, they screeched. He was running behind schedule thanks to his last customer, an elderly gentleman who decided he wanted cable in his bedroom. However, the nice man didn’t bother to tell Micah the task would require him to crawl underneath the house until after Micah had agreed to do the installation. That was the one thing he hated most about his job with the local cable company—crawling underneath houses.

Micah grabbed his lunchbox, and after slamming the door, raced to his apartment on the third floor in the St. Moritz complex building. It was a good thing he climbed telephone poles on a regular basis; otherwise, he would have been winded by the time he reached the third flight of stairs. Once inside his unit, Micah tossed his lunchbox on the kitchen counter, and then headed straight for the shower.

Under the therapy of hot water pellets, Micah’s mind relaxed as he reflected on his short life in California. Two years had flown by fast, and his life had changed dramatically. It was hard to believe he was the same person. When Micah Stevenson arrived at the Oakland airport on that rainy December night, he was just a shell of a man. Back then, he compared his life to the chocolate Easter bunny, solid on the outside but hollow and empty on the inside. Self-esteem and security had vacated the premises of his spirit, along with his will to live. He loved God, but wasn’t sure God loved him anymore because he’d repeatedly done the very thing that was an abomination.

Today, with the help of his uncle, Pastor Jackson, and his new best friend, Minister Anthony Combs, Micah Stevenson was a mighty man of valor, and he knew it. He valued his relationship with God above anything material or tangible. He’d spent the past two years totally devoted to God. Micah learned to hear His voice and learned God’s plan for his life.

The only leisure activity Micah afforded himself was coaching the church’s baseball team. That was only after God had shown him how to use his past experiences to help keep the younger generation from falling into the same trap he had fallen into.

Up until six months ago, he was satisfied with his life. Church, work, and baseball brought him complete contentment. Then he met his little buddy, Matthew, and everything changed.

He’d met six-year-old Matthew Roberts one Sunday while the child played with the water fountain in the church’s vestibule. Matthew was conducting an experiment, trying to see if the water would touch the ceiling. After gently scolding the little boy, they became buddies. When Micah met Matthew’s mother on the following Sunday, Micah wanted to become her buddy also.

Pamela’s natural beauty captivated him months prior, but he was too shy to approach her, so he admired her from afar. The mocha skin and soft brown eyes drew him in, and her warm smile hooked him. Micah thought she resembled Sanaa Lathan, especially when she wore her shoulder-length hair down in loose curls. Micah never voiced his interest in Pamela Roberts, but he did learn about her from a distance and from the subtle inquiries made to his uncle. He also observed her every Sunday and Wednesday night. Although impressed, he decided not to pursue her until later. Then the unimaginable happened. Little Matthew handpicked him as a Christmas present for his mother! When he pried the plot out of his little buddy, Micah fought hard to keep a straight face. He felt like break-dancing, he was so happy. His happiness swelled when Pamela accepted him as her present and agreed to start a relationship with him. That was twenty-seven days and nineteen hours ago.

With a steady hand, Micah trimmed his goatee. The second he realized tonight was their first date without Matthew, he nicked himself. “Why am I so nervous?” he asked audibly. Normally, they went to places like Chuck E. Cheese or caught the latest animated feature so Matthew would be entertained and not feel left out. It was important to them both for Matthew not to feel neglected now that they were dating. Matthew didn’t mind at all. He was happiest walking between them with one of his hands resting safely inside theirs. What Matthew really loved was for Micah to ride him on his shoulders. Micah loved that too. He laughed just as much as his little buddy, if not more.

There will be no laughing tonight, he thought, unless she’s laughing at me. Micah quickly shook that thought away.

“You are a twenty-eight-year-old mighty man of valor,” he said, looking at his reflection in the mirror. “You can have a conversation with a woman without the aid of a six-year-old.” Micah made the statement in his deepest, most masculine voice, but deep down, he hadn’t succeeded in convincing himself. Micah continued talking audibly at his cloudy image in the steamed mirror.

“What kind of questions should I ask her? How much information should I disclose? Should I ask about Matthew’s father? Should I ask about her dreams and aspirations?” Micah looked around the bathroom as if waiting for a voice to answer back. Then he remembered what Pastor Jackson said: it was all right for him to talk to himself, just as long as he didn’t answer himself back.

Micah chuckled at the thought of him being scared to talk to a woman. But then again, this was new to him, and right now he needed reassurance he wasn’t going to make a complete fool of himself. No sooner had the thought left his mind, the phone sounded, alerting him that he had a visitor.

“Yes,” he answered, annoyed that someone would disturb him in his time of crisis.

“Man, buzz me in.”

Micah breathed a sigh of relief. It was Anthony Combs. He pressed the button for the security gate, and then quickly stepped into his pants and slipped on a turtleneck sweater. In the middle of tying his casual dress shoes, Anthony finally knocked on the door.

“Man, are you hyperventilating yet?” were the first words from Anthony’s mouth once Micah let him in.

“AC, what are you doing here?”

“Making sure you don’t stand Sister Pamela up.”

“I’m not going to stand her up. I may sweat like a pig before I get there, but I am going to show up,” Micah said, right before splashing on cologne.

Anthony’s eyes lit up. “Man, when did you start wearing Sean John?”

“The day Pamela told me she likes it.”

“You really like her, don’t you?” Anthony asked, although the smile on Micah’s face told the story.

“Yes, I really like her,” Micah answered. “Which is why tonight is so important. I need to make sure Matthew isn’t the only thing we have in common, and that outside of church we’re still compatible.”

“I understand your concern,” Anthony said as he helped himself to bottle of water from the refrigerator. “But, Micah, my man, I honestly don’t think you have anything to worry about.” Anthony closed his eyes and pretended to receive a revelation. “The Spirit is telling me she’s sprung.”

Once Micah stopped laughing, his expression turned serious. “I hope she’s also open-minded.”

Anthony nodded his understanding of Micah’s dilemma. “If she’s the one God has for you, she will be.”

Pamela nervously applied the finishing touches to her makeup, then checked her hair one final time. Micah was due to arrive any second, and she didn’t want to keep him waiting too long. That might give the impression she wasn’t interested. Lord knows that was far from the truth.

“Jessica, you were right again,” she whispered at her reflection in the mirror. The long-sleeve crepe dress flattered her size twelve shape nicely and complemented her mocha skin. Perfect, she thought. Not too dressy, not too casual. She didn’t have any idea where they were going, but this dress could adapt to any environment. The doorbell sounded. She quickly stepped into her new pumps, and then dashed for the door. She hesitated before opening it. “How long are you supposed to make the guy wait?” she mumbled. “Oh, forget it. I’ve been single for five years, that’s long enough.” Pamela put on her friendliest smile and welcomed her guest.

“Good evening, Micah.” She thought he was handsome in his black slacks and leather parka. Around his neck, she could see the collar of his cream turtleneck.

Micah stood there motionless and stared at her. He held flowers in his hand, and his mouth hung wide open. His face was perplexed, like he’d forgotten what he wanted to say. Seconds later he still hadn’t returned her greeting, so she spoke again.

“Good evening, Micah.”

“Hello, Pamela.” As if suddenly remembering something, his facial muscles relaxed. “These are for you.” He extended the flowers to her.

“Thank you.” Micah watched her put the flowers in water and place the arrangement on the living-room table inside a crystal vase. Her back was turned, and her shoulders remained still. He couldn’t tell that she considered his momentary memory loss hilarious. She turned to face him. “I’m ready; I just need to grab my coat.” Her smile made him smile. He exhibited more confidence.

“Pamela, you’re beautiful. I like that dress on you, and your hairstyle is very flattering.”

The richness of his voice gave Pamela goose bumps, and she blushed uncontrollably. Yesterday’s visit to Portia over at the Top it Off hair salon for a fresh relaxer had paid off.

“You look nice too,” she replied, then reached inside the hall closet for her coat. In two long strides, he was at her side assisting with her coat. “Micah, where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise, but trust me, you’ll like it.”

“And just why should I trust you?”

He had a quick comeback. “Because your son chose me; remember?”

“I’ll be sure to thank my son later.” She offered him a smile, and he exhaled.

Riding alone with Micah in his SUV proved more awkward than Pamela had imagined. She didn’t know what to say now that she didn’t have to turn her head to the backseat to warn Matthew to be still or to answer a question from her inquisitive son. Pamela directed her attention to the red taillights in front of them as they traveled eastward down Interstate 80. She started to comment on the heavy traffic, but figured that would reveal how desperate she was for conversation.

She looked at Micah. His palms were so sweaty they kept sliding down the steering wheel. He popped in a CD, she assumed, to calm his anxiety and also to break the silence.

“I didn’t know you listen to him. He’s my favorite praise and worship artist,” Pamela said, relieved they had more in common than Matthew and church.

“Mine too.” Briefly, he grinned in her direction. “What’s your favorite song?”

“All of them. I have all of his CDs and DVDs,” Pamela answered proudly.

“I haven’t seen his DVDs, but I have all of his CDs also.”

Pamela sung and moved to the beat of the song. “I’ll let you borrow my DVDs if you want,” she offered then resumed singing.

“I’d like that.” He pumped the volume and the two continued singing and chatting about the popular gospel artist the remainder of the way.

“Micah, I didn’t know you were bringing me here. I have wanted to try this place for months,” Pamela said when they pulled into the parking lot of the Dead Fish.

“I know.” Micah smiled mischievously before he continued. “I heard you mention it to Jessica one Sunday after church.”

As she watched him walk around to the passenger door, Pamela was impressed. He’d remembered a conversation from at least a month ago. After he assisted her from the vehicle, she interlocked her arm with his, and together, they walked toward the restaurant’s double wooden doors.

“I like your cologne,” Pamela complimented before stepping inside the waterfront seafood restaurant.

“A pretty girl once told me she liked it, so I picked some up.”

Pamela didn’t have a response, she was too busy blushing.

“Micah, this is lovely,” Pamela said once they were seated at a corner table along the glass wall overlooking the Zampa and Carquinez bridges. The romantic atmosphere was complete with candlelit tables and fresh-cut roses. Soft jazz played in the background.

“You sure are. Your beauty enhances the atmosphere.”

“I was referring to the view of the lighted bridge,” she responded just as the waiter introduced himself, and then asked for their drink orders.

Micah touched her arm. “Allow me.” He looked up at the waiter. “We’ll have a bottle of nonalcoholic White Zinfandel, please.”

“How did you know I like White Zinfandel?” Pamela asked after the waiter left.

“I saw a bottle in your kitchen.”

“Micah, I’m impressed. You notice everything.”

“Thanks, but I must admit, I’ve been a nervous wreck about tonight.”

“Is that how you cut yourself?” She had noticed the fresh cut just below his lip.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t notice,” Micah admitted.

“That’s nothing; I almost put my eye out trying to put on eyeliner.”

“Why were you nervous?” he asked once he stopped laughing.

“Probably the same reason you were.”

“It’s different without him, isn’t it?” Micah referenced Matthew’s absence.

“Very. I was scared we wouldn’t have anything to talk about.”

The waiter returned to chill the wine and to take their dinner orders. Pamela chose the stuffed salmon and Micah, the blackened catfish. They agreed to share crab cakes for an appetizer.

Pamela tried not to stare, but it was hard. Micah Stevenson was by her account a handsome man: over six feet tall and milk chocolate with a goatee and a full set of lips. Every time she looked into his warm smile, she was nearly mesmerized. And his body, that was enough to make any woman thank God for creating man. But what she loved most were his eyelashes. They were so long, they almost curled.

“Micah, you said on Christmas Eve you’d been watching me for months. What exactly were you looking for?”

He took a sip of wine before answering. “At first, I don’t think I was looking for anything. When I saw Matthew sitting next to you that first day, I thought you were pretty. That’s how it started; I enjoyed looking at you. Especially when you danced in the Spirit.”

Pamela blushed again.

Micah rested his arms on the table. “I know you’re not shy, the way you dance all over the place.”

“Don’t sit there and act like you don’t get your praise on nearly every Sunday,” Pamela replied, placing her hands on her hips.

“So you were watching me also?”

She took a sip of wine. As the cold liquid lubricated her throat, she wondered why she favored the watereddown drink so much. “After I realized how fond Matthew was of you, I had to check you out.” He nodded his understanding. “Did you like anything else?” She had to know if he were sincerely attracted to her or if Micah’s purpose for being in her life was only as a role model for her son only.

“I love the way you take care of Matthew,” Micah answered sincerely. “Coming from a home without a father and an alcoholic mother who sometimes forgot I was alive, I can appreciate a woman who cares for her child as well as you do.”

Micah’s unsolicited history surprised her, but she didn’t let it show. “Thanks for the compliment. I do my best, trying to make sure he has everything without a father. I’m sorry you don’t have a close relationship with your mother. Is that why you moved here from Chicago?”

Micah pondered his answer before responding. “No. I moved here because my uncle was here, and he was willing to help me turn my life around.”

Pamela was curious just how much turning he needed to do, but decided to wait for him to disclose more of his past on his own.

“Exactly how are you related to Pastor Jackson?”

“He’s my mother’s oldest brother.”

The waiter placed the crab cakes and two small plates on the table. They. . .