Faith Alone Read online

Since I was further along in the pregnancy, hearing the heartbeat wasn’t a problem this time; it was strong.

  My baby moved its legs, arms and appeared to turn to the camera and wave.

  “Hello to you, too, baby.” I couldn’t help myself. I chuckled as a tear of joy streamed down my face.

  In silence, John wiped it away.

  “I’m not sure if the baby will position itself so that we can see the gender.”

  Ms. Lori moved the sensor and moved the sensor. I turned on my right side and my left.

  Just when Ms. Lori was about to put the sensor away, she exclaimed, “Mrs. Jackson, look, right here. I’m glad that we didn’t give up because we know what you’re having.”

  Yes!

  Chapter 21

  Looking out of my bedroom window, I saw God in the crimson, mustard and plum colored leaves. Although it was dark, the moon’s glare reflected off of fall’s colors. Every day seemed to bring something new; days of darkness and days of light. The dark days brought thoughts of death, memories of past pain. The lighter days gave me joy, especially when kicks of life moved inside my tummy. I went from being able to move around easily, to holding onto items to ensure that I didn’t take a tumble. Swollen legs hid my ankles. Dr. Price took me off of bed rest.

  As I laid there, I heard the faint sound of a song coming from the spare bedroom, Vanessa’s playlist.

  I told the storm to pass, storm you can’t last. Go away, I command you to move today.

  I sang this song, ‘I Told the Storm’, back in the day with the choir.

  Death can’t shake me, job can’t make me, bills can’t break me, disease can’t take me, you can’t drown me while God surrounds me, That’s what I told the storm.

  The tears fell and fell, saturating my pillow. Tomorrow morning was sentencing. I thought it would be appropriate to pray the same words that Christ prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane the night before His trial. Before falling asleep, I prayed the Lord’s Prayer. I couldn’t kneel down beside the bed as I normally did, so I sat on the edge and clasped my hands together and began to talk to God.

  “Our Father which are in heaven, hallowed by Thy name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors…And forgive our debts, as we forgive our debtors. Forgive us…”

  Gripping the sheets, while rocking back and forth, I whispered. “Heavenly Father I know what I must do; just like Jesus knew that He had to do while praying in the Garden of Gethsemane. He didn’t want to, and I don’t want to, but give me a listening ear to hear your voice.”

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  John, Tracy, Vanessa and I arrived at the courthouse thirty minutes before the trail began. Vanessa flew in a few days ago and John was adamant that he attend. “I was there when they called you to identify him. I want to see this all the way through.” He wasn’t taking no for an answer and I agreed with him. I grew accustomed to him by my side.

  The building was active with people. As we got closer to courtroom number thirty-three, I saw people milling around. I recognized some of them as local TV reporters. Instead of waiting in the hallway we entered and sat in the second row on the prosecutor’s side. I noticed Ms. Bryant seated on the defendant’s side surrounded by family or friends. Their looks were intense as they listened to the defense lawyer.

  When Ms. Bryant glanced my way, our eyes met for a second.

  Just before it appeared that the sentencing would begin, I saw Keisha out of the corner of my eye. I waved her over where we were; she settled into a seat directly behind me.

  I stretched my hand over my shoulder and greeted her. “I’m so happy to see you.”

  “You know I was coming.” She told me, as she glanced over at the people sitting on the other side. “I wanted to see this bama.”

  I patted her hand which was resting on my shoulder. I turned around and noticed that the courtroom didn’t look anything like the ones on TV. It looked like it seated one hundred people. What struck me most was the orange and brown décor; it resembled the colors of a warm living room. I envisioned hardwood floors and a large wooden area surrounding the judge; but not here. Interior decorators carefully planned the matching earth tones. I wondered why.

  The door in the front of the courtroom opened; two marshals brought Jeffrey Bryant, handcuffed, into the courtroom; wearing black pants, a white shirt, a black tie and what appeared to be a pair of personality glasses.

  Umph.

  He looked around to see who was there, when his eyes met his mother’s, she mouthed to him. “Be strong.”

  When he saw us, he quickly turned his eyes and sat down next to his lawyer. I’m sure Keisha’s gaze identified us as Brian’s family.

  The courtroom clerk’s voice grabbed my attention. “All rise.”

  We all did. Once the judge rushed through the door and took his seat, we sat, as well.

  Suddenly the courtroom clerk’s voice permeated the room again. “Calling the case of the District of Columbia v. Jeffrey Bryant. Mr. Bryant, are you here?”

  Answering in his stead, his attorney responded, “He is here.”

  I wonder if everyone in the courtroom could hear my heart pumping against my chest.

  The judge went through a litany of questions for the murderer and read the facts of the case. When asked if the facts were true, Jeffrey bowed his head then slightly raised it, responding, almost in a whisper. “Yes.”

  Where were the tears?

  Looking through some papers the judge peered over his glasses. “Thank you, Mr. Bryant. Does the prosecution have anything to say?”

  The prosecuting attorney rose from her seat. “Judge Hamilton, I’d like to call Mrs. Lachelle Jackson to the stand to present her victim impact statement.”

  John, Vanessa and Tracy all tried to assist me as I stood. I was determined to get up without any assistance and walk to that stand in the same manner.

  I mouthed to them, “I’m okay.” They stepped into the aisle to let me pass.

  As I walked up to the stand I heard whispers in the courtroom, but felt the tugging of the Holy Spirit.

  And forgive us our debts…

  Hush Holy Spirit.

  As we also have forgiven our debtors.

  I didn’t want to. But, I felt the power of the Holy Spirit bubbling beneath the surface. It spoke to me.

  “Your Honor, I am Brian Jackson’s widow. I’ve lost a big part of my life. My husband was a pillar of this community. He mentored boys and worked to ensure that you would never see them standing before you.”

  The murderer’s eyes were big as saucers and his mouth gaped open. He didn’t know that I was going to say. Neither did I.

  I cleared my throat and continued. “I’ve spoken with my husband’s assistant coaches and I learned that the defendant was involved in his much younger brother’s life in a positive way, before this tragedy. I asked the coaches if the defendant knew my husband and they said no. The football field was typically crowded with kids and parents before and after the game. They never met face to face.”

  As I began to end my statement I glanced at his mother. Her eyes were closed with her hands clasped in a praying position. I read her lips as she repeated the same prayer. “Thank you, Lord.”

  “The one thing that I would ask you to consider is the defendant’s positive influence on his brother, before this tragedy. I’d ask that you consider Jawan, and his mother, as you sentence him.”

  The judge removed his glasses. “Thank you, Mrs. Jackson. I’m sure that wasn’t easy. The court appreciates your candor. You may step down.”

  As I walked, my eyes focused on my seat. There was no urge to look at anything besides my seat and my support. I wanted to beg the judge to lock him up forever. But, the Holy Spirit guided my spiritual fortitude and I was obedient.

  Once I sat down, the judge continued. “I have letters from the defendant’s mother and her pastor. They both reiterated that Mr.
Bryant was a good student through school but lost his way with drugs. They gave the same backstory provided by Mrs. Jackson. Is there anything that you would like to say to the court, Mr. Bryant?”

  He looked behind him and found his mother. Dabbing her checks with a tissue she mouthed the answer to the question that his eyes asked. “Say, I’m sorry.”

  He obeyed his mother. “Your Honor, what I did was an accident. And I’m sorry.”

  That’s when his tears began to flow.

  “It’s time for the sentencing.” The judge’s stern baritone voice announced with decisiveness. “After taking everyone’s statements into account, I hereby sentence Jeffrey Bryant to twenty-five years to thirty years in prison.”

  I released a long sigh. The murderer was twenty-seven years old; he could be released from prison at the age of fifty-two. He should be relieved that he would still have some of his life to live.

  That was when I began to look at him. I watched as the marshals handcuffed him. He wasn't any taller than five foot eight. Brian would’ve beat him down in a fair one-on-one fight. I kept my eyes on him as he went through the door. Just before it closed, he turned, looked at me and said, loud enough for everyone to hear him. “Thank you.”

  I just sat there. Is it over? I knew the answer to that, and it was, no. I’d live with this for the rest of my life. But this part of the story was over, and that offered some relief.

  John rose to talk to one of the lawyers, while Tracy held my hand. “You ready, honey?” She asked. “I am.”

  Helping me rise and keeping me steady on my feet, Tracy put my coat around me.

  Chapter 22

  It was the Saturday after Thanksgiving, a sunny but blustery autumn day. The world was darker now because the November eighth Presidential election put an apparent racist, sexual predator and outright fool in the White House. No one knew what to expect. What advances would he roll back that would have long-term ramifications?

  Thanksgiving was a season of counting our blessings, and I thanked God for so much. Although I missed Brian, every day, I was thankful for my girls who decided that they wanted to throw me a baby shower. I didn’t want one, but I told them that if I had to have one, it couldn’t be a surprise. I needed to know the date.

  Tracy and Vanessa agreed because of my condition. They planned it for the Saturday after Thanksgiving, and that was all I knew; the rest was a surprise.

  My other condition was that the baby’s gender wouldn’t be made public. Again, they agreed.

  Tracy and Vanessa told me to be ready promptly at two o’clock, when a driver would pick me up and take me to the celebration. I changed clothes at least three times.

  The sound of the hawk blowing outside told me to dress in layers. I’d been getting warm lately, so I thought a cute, sleeveless, collared blouse under a burnt orange and brown sweater would be good. Leggings and Uggs would ensure comfort. I topped the look off with a brown cape, trimmed in faux fur. I was cute.

  When Tracy told me that a driver would pick me up, I assumed a limousine driver.

  Keyword: assumed.

  I was standing in front of the window waiting when John pulled up in front of the house, jumped out of the car, and grabbing his hat so that it wouldn’t get carried away by the wind. My eyebrows rose in surprise.

  Before he could ring the doorbell, I gripped the doorknob and attempted to slowly open the door, but the wind forced the door against the wall and carried John into the house.

  “Shawty, this wind is disrespectful.”

  I grabbed the thickest shawl wrap that I had while staring at him. He sounded as though I knew he was coming to get me.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked with a frown. “Didn’t they tell you I was picking you up?” “I didn’t realize you were coming to the shower.”

  “Lachelle, I ain’t trying to go to no shower. I told Tracy to let me know how I could assist and she asked me to pick you up and drop you off. That’s it. That’s all.”

  I knew some of Brian’s family would be there to celebrate and I didn’t want any drama; even though John and I were just friends.

  “I’m not trying to be mean, but…”

  “No explanation is necessary. I’m just here to help. I don’t want you to feel as though you have to explain who I am to those who don’t know me, yet.”

  Keyword: yet.

  “John, you really need to stop.”

  “I’m just teasing. Are you ready? I don’t want Tracy and Vanessa beating me down for getting you there late.”

  After he helped me with my cape, we walked to the car. My girls didn’t give me much information so I thought I’d see what I could get from John.

  “Where are we going?”

  He looked at me as though I was crazy.

  “To your baby shower. Duhhh!”

  “I mean where, as in location, fool?”

  “You’ll see when we get there. Don’t ask many more questions. I’m sworn to secrecy.”

  John skipped the subject and told me about his foundation and the work that he was doing in the community with both boys and girls.

  I was impressed.

  “I created a foundation to serve the communities in the cities where I’ve played. Every summer we run basketball camps in the underserved sections of the cities, boys and girls can enroll.”

  Turning the corner, he continued. “In two of the cities that I’ve played in, we’re emulating Steve Harvey’s mentoring program for young boys where we bring in some ballplayers to talk about life skills and of course, shoot some hoops.

  Just as I imagined John with the boys and the girls, I noticed we were a few blocks from my church.

  “I know where we’re going.”

  “Well, you should. But, you ain’t heard it from me.”

  Laughter filled the car.

  I motioned to direct John to the entrance of our church hall. I was relieved that they knew I’d be comfortable at church. They didn’t spend too much money and I really loved that.

  John parked and ran to my side to open the door. Just as I swerved my legs to get out of the car I saw Keisha sitting in hers across the street from the church putting on make-up; our eyes met. Her mouth dropped when she saw John open the door for me. I wasn’t sure if I had enough time to tell John to get back in the car and just drive away.

  Keisha got out of the car and must’ve forgot something because she turned on her heels and headed back to her car. Thank you, Lord.

  “John, act like an Uber driver and just leave before Brian’s sister gets over here. That’s her.” I said tilting my head to the side.

  “Let me say bye to the baby. You know it’ll miss me.” John replied with a sly grin.

  I wanted to whack him but mouthed through clenched teeth. “Get out of here.”

  He laughed. “No problem. I’ll hit you up to see if y’all need help taking…”

  I barely heard the ending of what John said as I walked into the all familiar church foyer. Keisha came in behind me, huffing and puffing. Did she run after me?

  “Oh hey, Keisha.”

  “I should ‘hey’ you. Who was that? My brother died six months ago and you already got a new man?”

  “First of all, don’t start no mess today. And second of all, that was my ride here. If he was my man, he would’ve come inside. I don’t have anything to hide from you.”

  The focal point of the grandiose church foyer was a body length gold trimmed mirror. Keisha took a minute to look me up and down while I glanced in it lying my hair down.

  My friends must’ve realized that I was in the foyer. Hushed voices replaced the conversations I heard coming from the multi-purpose room. Our sanctuary was gorgeous, but the multi-purpose room was always the warmest place in the building to me. I couldn’t wait to see how Tracy and Vanessa decorated it.

  “I’m going in now.” I told Keisha.

  “I’ll let you walk in by yourself. I know you don’t want me ruining your moment.”


  The look of disdain on her face hurt me. But, I wasn’t going to focus on that. It was time for me to enjoy what my girls had planned for me.

  Breathe. Just breathe and enter.

  Anticipation grew as I pulled the large, wooden double doors.

  “Surprise!”

  I looked over a sea of family, friends, sorors, colleagues, and schoolmates. And Brian’s family was there in full force. I was surprised to see males there too. It was a coed baby shower.

  After I scanned the faces, I noticed the beauty of the room. Lovely pink and blue pintuck tablecloths sat under centerpieces filled with cute African-American babies, boys and girls. Sashes of the same color wrapped around the chairs for guests and balloons filled the air. The fireplace was lit which added to the warmth of the room. There was a selfie section with props and pink and blue cupcakes.

  Tracy and Vanessa hugged me. Vanessa whispered as she smiled. “Just act like it was a surprise.”

  They led me to a regal chair, fit for a queen in the center of the room.

  I couldn’t help but to think about Brian and how happy and proud he’d be at this moment.

  My guests and I took selfies, filling the room with love and laughter. Vanessa led the games. The first one we played was to see who could guess the width of my tummy using toilet paper, some of the ladies almost used an entire roll. Wrong. But, Sister Maxine’s guess won the prize.

  “Vanessa, please give her a big gift bag because she was nice in her guess and still won.”

  She moseyed up to the front to get her gift with her cell phone in her hand, she snapped a picture with Vanessa, “You don’t mind, do you, baby? I told some of my co-workers I’d see you today.”

  “Of course I don’t. Let’s give them duck lips.”

  And duck lips they did.

  Tracy and a few friends from church served non-alcoholic, signature drinks, Rubber Ducky punch, in champagne flutes. The buffet line flowed well, no long lines at any one time. We dined on the best African-American cuisine, fried chicken, string beans and macaroni and cheese.

  And the cake. It was the most gorgeous, cutest and tastiest cake I had ever tasted.