Free Avenging Alex by Lewis Ericson Page A

because of another woman she thinks you’re ruining your life over.”
    â€œYou can’t say anything to her about this, Hank.”
    â€œDon’t worry, I won’t. But if this thing with this woman blows up, your mother and her prayer group are gonna be draggin’ your tail to the altar and drowning you in holy oil.”
    Even though he laughed John knew Hank was right. As much as Barbara Mitchell resented Lorraine for what she’d done she tolerated her for the sake of the grandchildren. His involvement with Alex would carry no such amnesty.

7
    Jamilah sat on a bench in a neighborhood park, reading and soaking in the afternoon sun, rocking Cerena back and forth in her stroller. She lowered her reading glasses and smiled as she spied the older gentlemen she’d met in the market approaching. He smiled too.
    â€œI was hoping to find you here.”
    â€œHow are you, Mr. Obafemi?”
    â€œAh, ah, ah . . . Please, call me Ade.”
    Jamilah nodded politely. “How are you today, Ade?”
    â€œI am much better now that I’m seeing you.”
    Jamilah’s eyes smiled as she readjusted on the bench to allow the man to sit. He removed his cap and his sponge of white hair sprung up from beneath it. He sat, boyishly twirling the cap in his hand as if wanting to say something but not sure how to begin.
    â€œWhat are you reading?”
    Jamilah turned the cover of the book over to show him. “It’s a collection of poetry by Phillis Wheatley.”
    He looked off in the distance. “My Busola loved poetry. She was a schoolteacher, you know.”
    â€œIs that right?”
    â€œI used to love for her to read to me. Her voice was so calming. Much like yours.”
    â€œThank you.” Jamilah smiled amiably, closed her eyes, and turned her face upward toward the radiance of the sun. “It is a beautiful day.”
    â€œYes, it is very nice,” Ade responded. “Your granddaughter seems to be taking advantage of the time to have a nap.”
    â€œYou should be glad she’s sleeping, otherwise, she would be trying to talk your ears off.”
    â€œI would welcome the conversation. How old did you say she was?”
    â€œShe’ll be nine months this May. She started taking her first steps just recently.”
    â€œYou must be very proud.”
    â€œYes, I am.”
    â€œI have a two-year-old grandson who I have not seen since he was born, but my daughter sends pictures.” Ade gazed off over the park. “I miss my family very much. My daughter and son-in-law have tried many times since my wife died to get me to move to Chicago to live with them.”
    â€œWhy didn’t you go?”
    â€œBecause my Busola is buried here, and I wanted to stay close to her.”
    â€œI understand.”
    Ade cleared his throat and turned back to Jamilah. “Would you mind terribly reading something to me from your book?”
    Jamilah girlishly brushed the loose strands of silver behind her ears and leafed through her book for an appropriate passage.

    O Thou bright jewel in my aim I strive
To comprehend thee. Thine own words declare
Wisdom is higher than a fool can reach.
I cease to wonder, and no more attempt
Thine height t’ explore, or fathom thy profound.
But, O my soul, sink not into despair,
Virtue is near thee, and with gentle hand
Would now embrace thee, hovers o’er thine head.
Fain would the heav’n-born soul with her converse,
Then seek, then court her for her promis’d bliss.

    Ade turned to her as if he’d summoned the courage to ask what it seemed he’d wanted to all along. “Miss Janette, I would be most honored if you were to join me for dinner tomorrow night.”
    Jamilah sat contemplating the invitation. She hadn’t had a suitor in quite some time. He was alone and so was she. They were both from Nigeria and appeared to have a lot in common despite the fact that he was almost ten years her