Free Stepping to a New Day by Beverly Jenkins Page B

they’d been having were helping—either that or no one had made Zoey mad enough recently to set her off. Smiling, she closed her planner. Until Zoey arrived the day was her own, so she sat down at her desk to fine-tune her sermon. One of the upcoming Sunday readings was from Ecclesiasticus. Chapter 44, verses 1-15. It paid tribute to the ancestors, particularly those unsung. When she began working on the sermon earlier in the week, she’d thought the verses apropos in light of her grandfather’s cancer fight. Now that the disease had won, the words resonated louder still, even though living with him represented a dark, painful period in her life, and Tyree Parks hadn’t feared God oranyone else. Their descendants stand by the covenants; their children also . . . Paula wasn’t looking forward to returning to Oklahoma. When she visited her grandfather in the hospital over the Christmas holiday she’d hoped things in the small town of Blackbird had changed for the better—they hadn’t. The people had gotten older of course, but the petty jealousies, backbiting, and the abject poverty remained firmly entrenched. Her mother’s sister, Della, was still bitter, resentful, and venomous. Every word she’d spoken to Paula had been laced with barbs, even going so far as to deride Paula for being a priest. The hate-filled words hurt—always had, and probably always would because she didn’t see her aunt changing. When it came time to return there for the funeral she’d need God’s help because Blackbird, Oklahoma, was a snake pit and anyone who ventured in without fangs was prey.
    Needing to find out about the funeral arrangements, Paula picked up her phone and mentally prepared herself to speak with her aunt because she knew it wouldn’t go well. When Della answered, Paula said, “Hey, Aunt Della, this is Paula. My condolences.”
    â€œHow’d you find out?”
    â€œUncle Calvin sent me a text.”
    â€œWhat do you want?”
    â€œTo see if the arrangements have been made. I’ll be coming for the funeral.”
    â€œWhy? He didn’t leave you anything, if that’s what you think.”
    Paula prayed for patience. “I don’t want anything from him. I’m coming to pay my respects. I owe him that.”
    â€œYou owed him so much you left, just like your mama did.”
    â€œCan we not go there? He was my grandfather.”
    â€œAnd my father and your mother’s father. Didn’t stop her from breaking his heart when she left. And you turned around and did the same thing. Apples don’t fall far from the tree.”
    As difficult as it was, Paula refused to be baited.
    Della continued, “And don’t think you’re going to have a say in the service.”
    â€œI wasn’t planning to.”
    â€œGood. Because nobody wants any of that mumbo-jumbo you and those Catholics use.”
    Paula gave up long ago trying to explain to her aunt that she wasn’t Catholic. To Della if you weren’t Baptist or Methodist, you were Catholic. “How’s Robyn?”
    â€œGot her head in those damn books so much, have to remind her to do her chores. She’s going to turn out to be as useless as Lisa.” Della’s daughter, Lisa, disappeared fifteen years ago, leaving behind her then two-year-old daughter, Robyn, for Della to raise. No one knew where she’d gone or if she were alive or dead, and Della didn’t seem to care. Paula worried that Della’s constant berating would kill her granddaughter’s love for learning just as she’d tried to do with Paula.
    â€œI’m looking forward to seeing her again.” The seventeen-year-old was quiet and withdrawn but smart as the proverbial whip. Paula wished there was a way to help her but trusted God to make a way out of Blackbird for her just as a way had been made for Paula.
    â€œJust stay away from her. The last thing she