Chapter One
Jubilee, Texas
Tanisha Bullock paused from her primping of the bouquet of periwinkle bachelor buttons and yellow daisies, which she had just set off to the side of the dark stained wood hostess station, and found herself watching the precise, yet casual movements of her husband, Israel, through the fair sized opening that connected the swank dining area to the activity in the kitchen as he readied certain things for tonight's menu at Istanbul.
He was handsome in a cute way with his dark skin tone that always brought to her mind the finest of chocolates. He sported a short trimmed mustache that seemed to accentuate his shapely lips and made his smile even more dazzling. His short trimmed, black, soft, wooly hair seemed to sparkle under the bright, full spectrum lights in the kitchen, and she found herself smiling when she heard him start talking to one of the tomatoes he was chopping for the fresh tomato peach salsa, just like he did with all food he prepared.
"You are a nice lookin' tomato. Yes, you are. And you're gonna make a fine salsa tonight. That's right." And on it went as he gave the same kind of pep talk to the rest of the salsa's ingredients.
Shaking her head, she returned to her task of prettying up the tables and lighting the short pillar candles in the dark green glass globes at each table's center, all the while remembering the very first time she heard Israel talking to food.
It was almost eleven years ago when she had been hired to decorate a church's fellowship hall for a twenty-fifth wedding anniversary open house. There had been a huge, completely stocked kitchen attached to the hall with a large access window with a serving counter between the two rooms, similar to the dining area/kitchen set-up in their restaurant here. Tanisha had been about to attach some of those Command wall hangers, in order to hang some clear twinkle lights around the perimeter of the room, when she realized that she didn't have any alcohol with her in order to clean the areas on the walls where the hangers would go.
Having seen a First Aid medicine cabinet on the back wall of the kitchen, she had sauntered through the open door into the empty kitchen and made a beeline for the cabinet that she had prayed had some rubbing alcohol in it. There had been none, but, fortunately, as a result of her rummaging around, she had found some pre-packaged alcohol wipes and took a few of them. As she put to rights the things she had moved around before closing the cabinet, she had heard Israel come back into the kitchen and start talking.
"I'm sorry. Did you say something to me?" she had asked as she'd turned around and walked towards the door which was near the stove where he had stood.
He had turned towards her with a surprised look on his handsome face, as he had not been aware of her presence. He had then smiled and laughed. His laugh had instantly intrigued her with it sounding like a mix between inhaled hiccups and a creaky floorboard. "I didn't know anyone was in here,"
She had grinned at him. "Did you say something to me?"
"Well-- not to you," he smiled sheepishly.
Tanisha had cocked her head and an eyebrow in an I-wonder-what-that-means fashion, but was going to leave it at that when he began to explain.
"I was talking to them."
"Them?"
Israel had pointed towards a large crock pot full of barbeque meatballs on a section of the counter next to the stove and gave her a crooked smirk.
"You were talking to the meatballs," she stated more than asked.
He had glanced towards the crockpot and then back at her, and gave a definite nod, his lips pressed together as he tried not to smirk.
"Do you always talk to food you're preparing?" she tried not to smile too big as she gave him a tease. His answering nod caused the thought that "this man is crazy" to pass through her mind. "Oh--kay."
"I know it sounds weird, right?"
"A little. At first," she admitted. "I mean, I guess it's not really any different from people talking to plants, is it?"
"Exactly," he smiled as he briefly pointed his finger at her and then tapped his nose a couple of times to indicate that she was right on the nose. "If anything needs to be talked to nice, it's the food we eat."
Tanisha had chuckled. "That's true."
"My name is Israel Bullock," he introduced himself.
"Tanisha Welling."
He had taken her offered hand to shake. "Nice to meet you," he had said as he released her hand from his. "And let me just say, that I enjoyed the expressions crossing your face at my admission. Particularly the one where you thought, 'God in Heaven, this man's insane!'."
Tanisha had laughed outright. "I wasn't gonna say anything," she had grinned.
"Maybe your mouth didn't, but everything else did," he had said and then laughed that unique laugh.
"Well, I'd better get back to work before my 'everything else' says anything else. And I'll let you get back to giving your food pep talks," she smirked as she walked towards the open doorway.
"Hey, when you taste it all tonight, you won't be gigglin' up your sleeve, Miss Welling," he said as she passed through the doorway.
"I don't remember 'gigglin', Mr. Bullock. Besides, I'm bein' paid to decorate this place, not eat with the clients," she called back over her shoulder, hearing another round of inhaled hiccups and creaky floorboards.
By the time she had finished all the decorating, Israel had also completed his job and had set all the food out in stainless steel warming trays and glass serving bowls and platters. The place had looked stunning with it's shiny silver sequins, and twinkle lights everywhere. In fact, it appeared more like a fancy buffet in an upscale hotel than the drab and dreary fellowship hall it had started out to be.
"Nice work, Miss Welling," Israel had come out carrying the large punch bowl and had set it on one of the side tables. "It is 'Miss', yes?" he probed.
Tanisha had smiled. "Yes, it's 'Miss', and thank you. You sure know how to set up a nice lookin' buffet, Mr. Bullock," she said as she looked over the heavily laden tables. "Everything smells real good, too."
He grinned. "Wait till you taste it."
"Not that you have an over-inflated opinion of your talents," she teased.
"No brag. Just fact, ma'am."
"I see," she nodded. "But I still don't think it would be right to partake of any of the food. I wasn't invited to. And sometimes, some clients can be more than a little particular about this very topic."
"Well, then that's their problem 'cause the laborer is worthy of his, or in this case, her hire," he said as he poured Canada Dry ginger ale and white grape juice over a frozen ring of punch into the punch bowl.
"It's true, but I'm just gonna leave and go to some diner or something until it's time for me to come back and tear down. So, I'll eat," she reassured him. She certainly hadn't wanted the man to get in trouble with their shared client by letting her eat some of the food there.
"Yeah, you'll eat. Right in here," he pointed to the kitchen counter where stood a couple of stools.
"Honestly, I'd like to, but I can't. It wouldn't be right," she spoke as she cleared away the rest of her things from the tables and walked through the kitchen to a small room adjacent to it, where she had stored all her supplies for the time being.
"Miss Welling, I happen to know for a fact that it is completely all right," he said as he had followed her around.
He had been about to argue his case further when a sharp voice was heard coming from the kitchen. "Kitchen Boy! Get your skinny butt in here!"
For a second his eyes had grown wide, as his lips pressed together into a thin line before he turned away from Tanisha and strode back into the kitchen.
The tongue lashing that followed caused Tanisha's eyes to get really big as she slipped from the temporary storage room and peeked her head through the doorway into the kitchen. There she had seen Evangeline Murphy, the shorter, rotund lady who had hired her, chewing Israel up one side and down the other, about the lack of food and how they were going to run out before the thing was half over. Israel just stood there, quite unruffled it seemed, and would occasionally try to get a word out here and there only to be shot down with vehemence.
Tanisha had realized upon meeting her employer that she had a lot of spice to her. Appropriately so, seeing as how she was Cajun. Evangeline's red tinged hair, mocha colored skin, and shockingly blue eyes attested to the conflagration in her DNA. But when they had met, Tanisha never guessed that the lady was actually a raving basket case.
It had seemed that Evangeline had only just begun to rant when Tanisha's sense of right and wrong kicked in. Walking into the fray, she heard Israel try a couple more times to get a word in edgewise to no avail as she would shut him down each time. The woman was so wired she didn't even seem to notice when Tanisha came up next to her.
"Mrs. Murphy! she interrupted in her authoritative yet gentle way.
The woman had turned her head towards Tanisha, but before she could find her tongue again in that fraction of a second, Tanisha continued.
"Why on earth are you speakin' to this man like that? From what I can see, he's done a very good job here. And I'm sure that since he does this kind of thing frequently, he knows just how much food to prepare for a crowd. It's what you hired him for-- his expertise. So just let the man do his job and stop haranguing him. Alright?"
Evangeline's fluster had been evident. Even though she looked like she had another tirade brewing, she managed to stifle it. Most of it anyway.
"Well, who died and made you the queen of the world?" she'd snapped at Tanisha and then added, "You just mind your own business and make sure you sit your little butt down and eat tonight, too. You hear?" And then turning back to Israel, "As for you. If we run out of food tonight, I'll make sure you never work in this town again!"
With that, she'd spun around and stormed out into the fellowship hall and out into the lobby.
Both Tanisha and Israel had silently watched her go. Tanisha had just been about to ask Israel if he was alright, when he started to chuckle. Looking up at him, she had seen genuine amusement on his face. She remembered, now, that he had opened his mouth and started to say something at that point, but she had already started to speak herself.
"I was just gonna ask you if you were okay, but apparently you are. How can you think that was funny? That woman is rude and a bit of a maniac. She's the one who needs the butt kicking." Tanisha hadn't understood why, the more she had talked, the harder he had laughed. "Well, you sure handled that a lot better than I would've," she sort of muttered, but then turned to him. "Do you think she really could make it so you'd never work in this town again?" she had asked, concerned for him that it could possibly be so.
"Nah," his laughter had slowed down to a slow chuckle again. "She says something like that to me every time there's a family get together. But I know Mama would never do anything like that," he had grinned.
"What?" Tanisha suddenly felt like her insides had turned to lead. "What did you just say?" she'd said as she had rolled her dark brown, saucer-like eyes up at him and tried to remember how to breathe.
"I said she'd never do that," he had looked at her at that point but had just kept on grinning, seeming to enjoy her discomfort.
"Did you say, 'Mama would never do that'?"
"Um," he looked up towards the ceiling, like he was trying to recall. "Yep."
"She's your mother?!"
He had given her one of those press-lipped, trying not to smirk, nods again.
"Oh no," she'd whispered as both of her hands came up and covered her mouth, obviously more than a little too late.
He'd laughed again.
"Oh, no," she had then covered her face completely with her hands. "I am so sorry! I shouldn't have said any of that!"
"Which part? The one where you told her to be nice and mind her own business? Or the part where you said she needed a butt kicking herself?"
"Ohhh," she groaned and shook her head as she had started to walk away only to be halted by Israel as he took ahold of her right wrist and then her left wrist.
"Hey, now, there's no need for that," he had said as he gently pulled her hands away from her face, laughing softly.
"I had no idea she was your mother. It never came up once when we were discussin' the plans for the hall that her son was doin' the catering."
"I could tell," he grinned again.
"I shouldn't have--"
"You did just fine. Thank you for coming to my defense, by the way."
Tanisha had rolled her eyes. "Yeah."
"No, really. Thank you. And you know what? Mama will appreciate it when all this is said and done."
Tanisha had given him a "yeah, right" look.
"Okay, maybe not so much appreciate as respect you for it. And don't feel bad about this. Truth be told, to the untrained eye, Mama can really be a bit of a battle axe where stuff like this is concerned. I know what to expect. And believe it or not, she's actually doing better this time around."
Tanisha frowned. "Better at what exactly?"
Israel had thrown his head back and laughed. "I meant better at not bein' so wound up and nasty."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Well, I wish I would've had a head's up. The two of you havin' the same last name would've helped."
"Vincent Murphy is my step-dad," he explained.
"Yeah, I picked up on that one real sudden like."
He had chuckled at her response before finishing his explanation. "My dad died when I was ten."
"I'm sorry about your dad."
"Thanks. Me too. But Vincent's a good guy too. I call him 'dad', too."
"I'm glad to hear that. Wait a second!" she suddenly heard, albeit a tad delayed, what Israel had said just a minute ago. "She's told you that 'you'll never work in this town again' before?!"
He laughed harder. "Yeah, that and variations of it. After years of firsthand experience, that phrase is usually the signal that her rant has run it's course."
Tanisha had snickered. "Sorry," she covered her mouth.
"No need," he'd smiled widely. "By the by, you did hear what the boss lady said, right?"
"About what?"
"You will be eating here."
Tanisha had pressed her lips in a crooked smirk, showing off the deep dimples in her cheeks that he would go on to say won him over. "Heaven forbid I even think of going against the boss lady's wishes."
"I'm glad to hear you've changed your mind."
That night, after turning all the lights off in the kitchen so as not to take away from the soft, silvery glow in the newly redecorated fellowship hall, they had positioned themselves on stools at the window counter, in order for Israel to be able to keep an eye on all the food and make sure that nothing ran out before he could replenish it, eating a little bit of everything (which had tasted even better than it had smelled), all the while talking, commiserating and laughing.
Israel would then point out relatives and family friends as they went through the buffet line. He had told her various things about his family there, all of whom, though he loved each of them dearly, were to be had only in small doses. He had even given her some examples. For instance, how his uncle Dudley always razzed him about his meatballs being too dry, his aunt Vivian always wishing he had made his wonderful cranberry salad if he had made apple salad, and then wishing he had made his wonderful apple salad when it was the cranberry salad that he had made. How his mother's cousin Jula was always trying to set him up on a date with the daughter of someone she knew, and how his dad's old high school buddy would always inquire if he was ever going to get a real job. And each one of them, as they had come up to speak with him, had said exactly those very things to him which made her laugh.
But when his mom's cousin who always wanted to arrange a blind date for Israel, had come up and given their glowing report of the eligible gal they had in mind for him at that point, that was when Israel had made his startling declaration that the girl he was going to marry was already sitting next to him.
Tanisha smiled as she remembered being totally stunned and looking over at him to find a most seriously placid expression on his handsome face. Sure, she had been attracted to him, but she never would’ve even considered that he was "the one". She had been too busy that night to really notice. But Israel hadn't been too busy. And that was one of the things that she had liked about him right away. He noticed the important things, even when it seemed too hectic to pay attention to anything.
This brought her back to the present as she wondered if that meant that she was no longer important to him because he didn't notice her anymore. He just seemed to notice the restaurant and anything to do with it. That's all he talked about. It seemed Tanisha had been replaced. Israel's mistress took up all his time and thoughts now.
The smile that she had been wearing was suddenly tinged with sadness that reached her eyes.
"Israel," she called out.
"Yeah?" he answered without looking up from what he was doing.
"I'm gonna go for a walk before we open, okay?"
"Okay. Don't be too long."
"Yeah," she softly replied as she grabbed her purple wool jacket and walked out the front door into the cold, early evening of mid January.
Heaving a sigh, she fought the urge to break down and cry. It hadn't been all that long ago that Israel would've dropped what he was doing to go walk with her. But now...
Her vision started to get hazy with unshed tears, and she was grateful that it was overcast which made it that much darker at five thirty this night. She didn't want to be noticed. She just wanted to walk.
As she walked, Tanisha could see store after store that were closed or in the process of closing. With the exception of the Stardust Theater, the two night clubs, and the sheriff's office (which closed at ten o'clock sharp), the rest of the businesses in Jubilee were always closed just when Istanbul was opening for the evening crowds of hungry people. Nightlife in Jubilee wasn't exactly wild and crazy, but it suited the townspeople quite well. Everyone knew how to have fun, and also when to go home. In fact, the only time any of the town's businesses stayed open till after midnight was on New Year's Eve and the Fourth of July.
As Tanisha stuffed her hands into her coat pockets and crossed the street, she glanced over to her right and saw in the near distance a great-with-child Kaydee Mitchell doing her best to fight the eight month waddle as she crossed to the side of the street that Tanisha had just vacated and walked into the corner radio station where her husband, Zack, worked as the DJ. Through the large pane glass window, she saw Zack's greeting as he stood up from his desk, kissed Kaydee, and placed his hand's gently on either side of her protruding belly and spoke to their unborn child. It was such a tender moment to witness, but that wasn't the reason for the sob that caught in Tanisha's throat.
Speeding up her steps, she headed straight for their story-and-a-half craftsman style house with the deep red, Shake shingles and white trim, which stood just behind Jerry's Garage and Gas Station. Covering her mouth with her hands in order to stifle the sobs, she leaned against their front door once inside and closed her eyes, trying to keep her breathing even.
After a moment or two, she opened her eyes. She could not break down right now. Israel would be expecting her back in about a half hour or so. Pushing off from the door, she flicked on the lights in the living room at the switch panel on the wall next to the door, illuminating the more contemporary decor surrounded in hues of golden yellow and burnt peanut, with accessories in more vibrant shades of greens, blues, purples, and reds that were so similar to the restaurant's interior.
As she went on her way through the living room, heading for the kitchen to get a glass of water, she saw the framed pencil sketches of the two sweetest faces of their son's, leaning against the wall on a shelf along with other photos and snapshots of her and Israel, and family and friends. Pausing in her tracks, she looked closely at them.
Malachi was nine years old now. He had his dad's smile and eyes. And Jonah was five. He had Tanisha's dimples and nose. Tanisha glanced down at the leather bound album that held the sketches of them from infancy on. How she loved those dear little faces.
She found herself swallowing around a lump in her throat as her vision blurred with tears that threatened to escape as she fully realized that she would be adding a sketch of another little face to the shelf. The thought to pick up the album and look through it crossed her mind, but before she would dare to look at it right now, she needed to take care of something else. Turning on her heels, she headed now for the telephone next to the kitchen to call their friend, Belle Rogers, a fellow shop owner in Jubilee.
"Hi, Belle," she said when Belle picked up. "This is Tanisha."
"Well, hi there, you!" she greeted in her usual chipper way. "What's up, kiddo?"
"I have a favor to ask. If you're not busy, that is."
"You caught me at a good time. What can I do for you?"
"I was wondering if you would take over for me tonight at the restaurant?" she asked. "Something's come up that I need to take care of," she hoped she sounded normal.
"Sure thing. When do I need to be there?"
"In thirty minutes?"
"Consider it done."
"Thank you so much, Belle."
"Anytime."
After Belle hung up, Tanisha dialed another number and sat down on one of the padded stools at the kitchen counter as it rang in on the other end.
"Hello?"
"Delilah. It's Tanisha."
"I was just thinking about you, girl!" she sounded so pleased to hear from her. "I wanted to call, but I figured you'd be at the restaurant. How are you?"
When Tanisha heard the love in her cousin's soft voice, she started to cry and told Delilah everything that had transpired in the past week.
Even though Delilah was actually her cousin's wife, she and Tanisha had hit it off right away and were good friends. Tanisha could always talk quite comfortably to Delilah about anything, and vice versa, and right now, she needed that safe place of their friendship to go to. After unloading the whole shebang on her, Delilah spoke words of comfort and then prayed for Tanisha. It was definitely a much needed visit.
An hour later, Tanisha was curled up on the sofa, looking through the sketch album of her boys. Even though she had not yet seen them in person, face to face, she knew every line of their lovely selves by heart. She knew that her having such clear and vivid pictures of them in her heart as they grew was a gift from God, and she was grateful for the ability to transfer these snapshots in her heart onto paper so both she and Israel could see them any time.
Every now and then, she and Israel would sit and talk about their boys, wondering what they were doing, and what it was like to be raised in Heaven of all places. Well, at least they used to talk about them, Now, she and Israel didn't talk much unless it had to do with the restaurant.
Turning the page from the last sketch in the album to an empty page, the tears started to fall again.
"Heavenly Father," she whispered. "Thank You for these pictures. And, You know what? I am so glad to know that You are not the one who took my babies from me. I know that's just the work of the enemy. But I am so grateful that they both are being taken care of so well there with You. Will You tell them their mama says 'hi' and that I love them? Tell them that-- tell them that they have another sibling there now, too, and to keep an eye out for her--" Tanisha stopped abruptly. "Her." She gave a slight smile. "I have a daughter," she stated, and then began to weep.
"Lord Jesus, this hurts so much. I feel like I didn't even get to know her for the little bit of time I did have her here," she poured her heart out to the Healer of broken hearts as she went over the fact that she had been pregnant for close to two months before she had found out (quite unintentionally through a sudden hankering for a certain combination of food, and then had gone to see the town's doctor, Aaron Halsey, for confirmation), not even a week ago, only to miscarry, again, two days later. And, to top it off, tonight was the night she had planned, just five days ago, to fix a special dinner for her and Israel and tell him the good news. As it was, she didn't quite know how to tell him now.
"How could I have missed being pregnant so completely, Lord? I mean, I know my time of the month has never been anywhere near what anyone would call punctual. But to miss this? And I know we were busy- real busy- during the whole holiday season-" she looked up towards the ceiling and closed her eyes. "You know, Lord, I really hate that restaurant right now. I feel like-" she thought for a moment as the right words to express her feelings lined up in a neat row. "I feel like that stupid restaurant not only stole my baby girl, but that it's workin' on stealin' my husband, too," she said as she wiped away tears with the back of her hand. "Help me, Lord."
Looking at the empty page, she then closed the large album and went to the desk drawer in the breakfast area where she kept her sketch pad and pencils and such, and returned to the sofa, along with a box of kleenex. Putting her feet up on the light linen colored cushions, she bent her knees so she'd have a place to rest the sketch pad as she waited for a new picture to form in her heart.
"Okay, Lord," she said, her voice thick with emotion as she held the pencil close to the paper, ready to start drawing. "Show me my baby girl."
End of sample.
Love Finds A Way
