The Christmas Catch

Chapter 2

Chapter TWO

“What do you mean he’s back?” May’s eyes widened. “You can’t just drop that bit of information and then scurry away like a rat.”

Bebe stopped in her tracks as her mouth dropped open. “A rat?” Not the look she was going for, but May wasn’t wrong. Bebe didn’t necessarily want to dissect all the ways Jay’s homecoming was wrecking her.

“I knew that would get your attention.” A mischievous grin curved May’s mouth. “Is he still good-looking?”

Be cool, Bebe. “I’m sure some women would say so.”

May had a tendency to sniff out any hidden subtext. Bebe tried to keep her body language nonchalant, but her heart beat too fast, ignoring her commands and causing her right eye to twitch.

“Ohhh,” May whispered. “He’s that fine?”

“May!” Bebe snapped.

“What?” Her black eyebrows rose in perfect innocence. Her ivory complexion and obsidian eyes completed the picture. May could be an Asian Snow White if it weren’t for the freckles across the bridge of her nose, flaring onto her cheeks. She flipped her straight black hair over her shoulder as she turned to doctor up a cup of coffee.

“We’re in church, May.”

She snorted. “Like God didn’t already know the drool-worthy thoughts going on in your mind.”

Bebe would laugh if she weren’t half-mortified. Because she couldn’t stop cataloging the ways Jay had changed from the high school senior who’d broken her heart. He’d been lean with muscle then, but now he was next level.

“We’re Sunday school teachers,” she reminded May primly. “Someone might hear us.” Surely that would get her friend to change the conversation.

“Sunday school teachers who have a pulse.” May took a sip of coffee. “I bet he’s as divine as my cup of coffee.”

Bebe chortled. Snorted. Then erupted in laughter. No way could she keep sense about her with May always dragging the juvenile side of her out. They’d been friends ever since May’s family moved to town when she and Bebe were in the fifth grade.

Both of them had been different. Having a white mom and a Black dad had given Bebe a lighter complexion of brown skin complete with green eyes. May had been the only Japanese American in their class. All through their school years, they were both admired and picked on alike. Their differences had brought them together and cemented their friendship.

As their shared laughter died down, Bebe dabbed at her eyes with a napkin. Thank goodness she’d skipped the mascara and eyeliner this morning.

“Seriously, Bebe. He has to look better in person than he does on TV. Plus, he doesn’t have all that equipment hiding his good looks.”

“He was pretty loopy, which took the shine off his looks.” But not much.

“Hmm. ‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks.’ Or however that goes.” May waved her hand as she took another sip of her drink.

“You said it right.” Bebe walked toward the doorway, scanning the halls. Clear. She rejoined May. “Okay, I’ll say this once, but let it be known it’s not an admission of any kind of feelings. Just an admission of facts.”

“Okay. Spill.”

“He is better looking. It’s totally not fair, but he is. No hint of fat anywhere on that man. And his arms look much bigger in person, although I’m not sure how, considering the camera should’ve already added ten pounds.” Bebe scrunched her nose.

“It’s a video camera, completely different properties.”

Bebe rolled her eyes. She wanted to say his eyes pierced her soul and her heart went pitter-patter, but how could she when she didn’t even want to admit it to herself? Jay had broken her heart after she’d spent months dreaming of a future with them together. She refused to fall for another man who couldn’t go the distance, especially one who’d been the first to break her heart. “I was merely cataloging the changes time brought until he opened his mouth and called me a ‘fine Georgia peach.’ It went downhill from there.”

May began coughing as she waffled between laughing and choking on her coffee. Bebe patted her friend on the back, shaking her head, then turned to fill her own cup once more.

“He did not say that,” May gasped.

“Yes. Hope thought it was funny.”

May’s eyes widened. “She was watching? Wait, he saw her?”

“Yes.”

“And he didn’t seem heartbroken that you’d obviously moved on?”

“Why would he be heartbroken?” It wasn’t like he’d pledged his undying devotion in high school. That had only been her dream. “Besides, I’m divorced.” Which still brought a bitter taste to her mouth. How had she been so expendable? Obviously something was wrong with her. Men never wanted to stick it out.

Why do I have such bad taste in men, Lord?

“Does he know you’re no longer married?” May asked.

Silence penetrated the air. Even though others thought high school romances couldn’t last, Bebe had believed they had forever power. Yet Jay’s rejection and following silence indicated otherwise. After growing up next to one another all those years, for him to leave without a word ... May knew exactly how much Jahleel’s departure had destroyed Bebe.

Bebe shrugged. “Anyway, he asked how that happened.” She relayed the rest of their meeting.

“Wow, those must be some great painkillers.” May shook her head. “Did you see the replay of his injury on YouTube? It looked brutal.”

“No, thanks.” Bebe shuddered. Why on earth do people want to watch videos of others getting hurt?

“It was pretty fascinating. I’d love to get my hands on his medical charts.”

“Rein yourself in, girl. He’s not a science project.”

“No, but my kids would love to study that in person. Especially since we’re on the joint-and-socket unit.”

Bebe shook her head. May was the high school anatomy and physiology teacher. Sometimes she laughed at how the two oddballs were now teachers. Though teaching certainly hadn’t been Bebe’s plan. That had come shortly after her marriage troubles with Will. Teaching allowed her to have the same school schedule as Hope, along with summers and holidays off, while providing a roof over their heads.

“Ladies, please get to your classrooms. People will be arriving soon.”

May’s face blanched at the sound of Reverend Walker’s voice coming from behind her. Bebe nodded in assent, too unnerved to speak. How much of their conversation had he heard?

“Is he gone?” May met her eyes, whispering the question.

“Yes.”

Her friend slapped her arm before glancing around to verify the pastor was truly gone. “Why didn’t you keep me from gossiping? You know the Rev walks the hallways looking for sinners.”

Bebe chuckled. “I tried to remind you where we are.”

“Hmm, likely story.” May raised her mug in the air. “See you after service.”

“Lunch at my place?”

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

Bebe headed down the hallway toward the five- and six-year-olds’ room. Ever since she had Hope, being around children brightened her day. Well, really her whole week, since she taught kindergarten at Peachwood Bay Elementary. It seemed only natural to agree to be a Sunday school teacher for the church.

The classroom stood empty. She walked in, setting her cup of coffee on the front table. I beat the parents. Thank You, Lord. The children’s tables were already covered with their morning warm-up activity of coloring. She’d set that up before getting something to drink. Today’s lesson would focus on the star of Bethlehem that led the shepherds to the newborn Savior. Bebe inhaled as she thought of the coming Christmas season. This was her absolute favorite time of year. Nothing could bring her more joy than the birth of Christ.

Her thoughts drifted to Hope. Her darling daughter had been born on Christmas Eve, despite the fact that her due date wasn’t until the first week of January. Bebe had gone into labor after catching her husband having a little too much holiday cheer with his coworker. Once upon a time, the memory would have dredged up pain and heartache. Now her heart rate didn’t even change. Maybe it was a sign her prayers to forgive him were finally being answered.

As much as she had loathed Will at one time, Bebe could never regret the birth of her daughter. The only resentment she still struggled with was his current treatment of Hope. Like she wasn’t worthy of his attention except for once a year at Christmastime.

Any day now, he’d mail Hope an early birthday card with money for her special day and Christmas. He never bothered to buy her a gift or even find out what she liked. Bebe shook her head, trying to lose the thoughts that threatened to drag her down. She would not let her mind spiral again. She’d place a smile on her face and greet each kid by name and remember the joy this season brought.

Her mind wondered back to Jahleel Walker. Would he still be at his parents’ place once Christmas was over? And why did her heart quake at the idea?

Silence.

Jahleel sighed in bliss. His mother had hovered around him all yesterday evening, while his father glowered from his throne, the leather recliner he favored. He couldn’t take the dichotomy between the two behaviors. But what else did he expect? His parents had been doing the same routine for thirty-two years now.

Jahleel snorted. This Christmas had the potential to be the worst one of his adulthood. Normally he’d throw a big bash, sparing no expense. His personal assistant would ensure a well-decorated tree graced his living room, perfectly situated in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows in his Texas home. All the guys from the team would show up with their plus-ones, and his current girlfriend would be in awe at the splendor.

Only this year was coming up way short. Jasmine had broken up with him in October. She’d apparently fallen in love with the Houston Rockets’ starting point guard. If that wasn’t bad enough, he’d found himself laid up and trapped back in his hometown. He couldn’t do much but stare at the four walls of the house he’d been raised in.

He had offered to buy his parents a new place, but they had refused—most likely his father’s objections. No matter how much money Jay made over the years, his father never accepted any monetary blessing from him. Obadiah Walker insisted on living below his means, as if the Lord would favor him more because of it.

Jahleel grunted. Being alone with his thoughts disturbed him. There was no escape. He never thought he’d return home, especially with an injury. Now he was beholden to the man who’d run him out in the first place.

“No son of mine is going to play football for a living. You should be glorifying God with a godly career,” his father thundered.

“ And how is using the talent God gave me ungodly?”

“ You’ll turn away from Jesus following this pursuit.”

Jahleel winced. He hadn’t turned away from his faith, but he certainly hadn’t practiced it the way he used to.

Please forgive me.

His body practically vibrated with restlessness. Jahleel looked at his bookshelf, where his high school football rested. He’d caught three touchdown passes with that ball during his senior year homecoming game, leading the team to a win.

Gritting his teeth, he swung his right leg over the bed, the brace keeping it straight. If he could stand on his right foot and grab the football, he’d have some assurance that recovery was possible. That he could come back full-time to the sport he loved.

On a nod, he stood.

Pain shot from his knee, clawing against his skin. Bad mistake.

Sweat beaded across his forehead as he attempted to breathe through the pain. He should have taken pain medication an hour ago but had stubbornly skipped the dose. A puff of air escaped his lungs as he dragged himself back onto the mattress. His hands gripped his leg to ensure it wouldn’t bounce.

Stars danced against his closed eyelids. Why did the pain have to be so intense?

Not worth it, Walker. Stick to the doctor’s plan.

His chest heaved from the exertion. Slowly his breathing returned to normal while despair loomed. It was over. Kaput. Finished. Done for. He no longer had a football career.

Don’t think like that. Wait until Ryan assesses you. But it was hard to look for the bright side when his knee throbbed this much.

The sound of the front door reverberated through the old walls, and he tensed. His parents were home already? He glanced at his cell phone. Wow . Service sure had ended quickly. He thought his father enjoyed pontificating in the pulpit for hours on end. Maybe the parishioners of His House Fellowship had finally revolted against long service times.

He sat still, waiting for his mother to come in and ask if he was hungry. He would lose muscle and gain fat if she kept it up. Especially since she kept offering all the mouthwatering meals of his childhood. Those shrimp and grits were still imprinted on his mind. Was that still Bebe’s favorite meal?

His brow furrowed. Why was he even thinking of her? Their relationship had lasted the last half of their senior year and ended right before college. His scholarship to the University of Texas and her acceptance to Georgia Tech pulled them in different directions. Ending their romance had only made sense to him. He’d done the right thing, leaving and severing all contact. There was no way they would’ve survived the long distance ... right?

Not that he had pined for Bebe. Sure, the memory of her soulful eyes sometimes tugged at him, but then he’d remind himself he’d done the right thing in breaking up. The statistics of high school sweethearts making it were pretty low. Obviously the fact that she had a kid meant she hadn’t pined for him either.

She’s probably married, proving your point further.

“Jay?” his mother called through the door. “You decent?”

“Yes, Mama.” He ran a hand over his face. Had she knocked while he’d been thinking?

She opened the door, peeking her face through the opening. “We’ve got company. Make yourself presentable and come say hello.”

“Company?”

“Yes. We always invite some people over after church. Surely you smelled that pot roast in the slow cooker?”

He could now that his door was open. His stomach rumbled in appreciation. “Could you bring me some food? I don’t think I can walk.”

“That’s why you have crutches.” She frowned. “You weren’t walking without them, were you?”

He swallowed.

“Jahleel Hardheaded Walker.”

“Could you please hand me the crutches?” He avoided her eyes, praying she’d ignore the need to lecture.

“Sure, baby.” She grabbed them and brought them to him. “Brush your teeth and wipe your face. Then you’ll be good as new.” She beamed.

“I’m not a kid.”

Her smile fell. “You’re my kid.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll be right out.”

“Good. Because Bebe’s waiting.”

The door shut, and his stomach dropped. How could he go out and face her, knowing he had made a fool of himself yesterday? Knowing she had a kid and probably a husband?

Suck it up, Walker. You’re tougher than this. Except the crutches he held questioned that theory. I could really use some divine intervention, Lord. Hopefully his many prayers asking for forgiveness meant the Lord would hear his plea.

His exhale whistled as he made his way to the living room. Each step made him wince as he struggled to lean on the crutches and keep his weight off his injured knee. Served him right for trying to stand without aid in the first place.

Conversation reached his ears as he stopped in the doorway leading to the living room. A couple of people sat on the maroon sofa set, but most of the people stood in small groups around the open area. A nativity scene had been set up on one of the end tables flanking the couch. An angel graced the other. Not to mention the lit Christmas tree and garland hanging throughout the home.

His mother flitted from group to group, holding a tray of drinks, as soft strands of gospel holiday music filled the room. Jahleel scanned the room, noting the new faces and old. He stopped when he spotted Bebe talking to...

May? Did no one ever leave this town?

His gaze returned to Bebe like a magnet. Even from a distance, he could tell how petite her frame was. If memory served him right, she stopped growing at five foot three. As if she felt his gaze, she turned, and their eyes connected. Her pale green eyes glowed, and her hair fell in soft brown waves, brushing the top of her shoulders.

She’d grown even more beautiful, and Jahleel would’ve never thought that possible.

Bebe smiled and dipped her head in greeting. He lifted his hand in a small wave. May followed her friend’s gaze, then smirked. She leaned forward and whispered something in Bebe’s ear. A blush graced his first girlfriend’s cheeks, and she bit her lip, glancing his way.

What are they talking about?

It had to be about him. He wasn’t being egotistical, but he was the prodigal elephant in the room. He began to hobble toward them. If they were going to gossip about him, he might as well listen to what they had to say.

Bebe’s eyes widened, and her brow furrowed. She rushed to his side. “You don’t have to crutch all the way over just to say hi.”

Jahleel stopped moving. “What if I wanted to speak to May?”

“Oh.” Her mouth dropped.

Why did he notice the little flecks of gold dancing around her irises? He blinked. “Uh no, not really. How’ve you been, Bebe?”

“Good.” She wrapped her arms around her waist. “You?”

“Been better.”

She winced. “Right. Sorry.”

“What can you do?” He shrugged even though part of him wanted to shout, Why me?

“Eat your mama’s bread pudding?”

Her Southern drawl dropped the g and added a lilt to the words, captivating him. He could always listen to Bebe talk, even about the mundane. She had this light and softness about her that had always drawn him in. But then they’d parted ways.

It was your choice. Own it.

Jahleel gulped and redirected his thoughts. “Bread pudding sounds good.”

“Sit down and I’ll get you some.” She pointed toward the couches.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Well, you sure can’t.” She motioned to his leg.

“Thanks, Bebe.”

She waved it off. “That’s what friends are for, Jay.” With a smile, she headed for the kitchen.

Friend-zoned already.

But isn’t that what you wanted?

He sighed.