Secrets and lies, p.1
Secrets and Lies, page 1
SECRETS AND LIES
RHONDA MCKNIGHT
www.urbanchristianonline.net
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
To My Readers:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Sexual Harassment Disclaimer
Reading Guide Questions
About the Author
Urban Christian His Glory Book Club!
Copyright Page
Dedication
In loving memory of my Auntie, Laura Wilson. I know you really, really wanted to see this novel finished. I miss you.
and
Donna Mitchell, my 10th grade Honors English Teacher and advisor for the school paper, The Megaphone. You saw the potential a long time ago.
Acknowledgements
Wow! I can’t believe I’m actually writing acknowledgements. How cool is that? First, I want to thank my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ for the gift. I feel so honored to have been trusted with something so powerful. I pray Secrets and Lies glorifies you in every word and on every page.
My parents, Jimmy and Bessie McKnight: Mom and Dad, thanks so much for shaping me into the person I am today and for your role in my purpose. Dad, I’ve always heard about the poetry you wrote for Mom when you were dating, so I’m thinking the writing was your contribution. Mom, thank you for instilling in me that spirit of excellence and supporting me in every dream I’ve ever shared with you. You both taught me to believe I could do anything I set my mind to.
To my sons, Aaron and Micah: I hope one day you’ll understand how much this accomplishment is about you. I pray to be a living example of the legacy of purpose. Walk in your God-given talents. Aaron, thanks for keeping your little brother entertained, changing his diapers, and getting him snacks while I clicked away at the keyboard to get this story down. I couldn’t have done this without you.
Cynthia and Kenny McKnight, I love you! You know that. You are the best little sister and brother a girl could have. Please continue to reach for your dreams and don’t let anything get in the way. Cynthia, thanks for staying with the kids so I could go to Faith and Fiction. You’ll never know how much that meant to me.
I have two friends that I just can’t thank enough. Seriously, I had to flip a coin to figure out who went first. Margaret Brown . . . heads . . . you’re first. This book would NOT have happened if it weren’t for you and Caleb. Thanks so much for taking care of Micah on sooooooooo many Saturdays and Sunday afternoons while I stole away to the Chick-Fil-A and Dunkin Donuts down the street to write. Janice Ingle, second, but always first, you read every version of this story from its horrible little beginnings to the finished product it is today. How many drafts was it? Way too many, but you hung in there with a sistah. Thanks so much for believing in me.
Aaron Coleman—here’s a shout out to you! Thanks for keeping me on task. You have no idea how the question, “How’s the book coming?” kept me in front of the computer. Thanks for keeping my feet to the fire.
Now, for my writer friends: We all know that no one does this by themselves. First and foremost I have to give immeasurable love to my literary godmother, Victoria Christopher Murray. God chose you, so you are blessed and highly favored to be the birth-mother of the African American Christian fiction genre. You paved the way for this genre with Temptation in 1997. It’s been ten years since you first encouraged me to write the story of my heart. I finally did it. Thanks also for taking me under your wing and showing me and so many others how to do Luke 19:13 “. . . occupy until He comes.” I appreciate your leadership, mentorship, and friendship. There’s nobody like you!
Jacquelin Thomas, thank you for answering every little email I’ve ever sent you over the years and taking time to show love and support for aspiring writers. Patricia Haley, Angela Benson, Stacy Hawkins Adams, Marilynn Griffith, Claudia Mair Burney, Sharon Ewell Foster, Michelle Sutton, Carmen Green and Pamela Samuels Young—I love your work and really appreciate your advice and encouragement. Jacquelin and Stacy, thanks so much for reading Secrets and Lies and endorsing it. Tiffany Warren, thank you for the vision of the Faith and Fiction Retreat.
Now for the brightest, baddest writing sistah girlfriends on the planet, Atlanta Black Christian Fiction Writers: Y’all know I appreciate you letting me in your little group. I mean what’s the number 9 without a 10 behind it? Big hugs and lots of love to Sherri Lewis for encouraging me to be excellent about the craft and for always getting a critique done in a tight. Tia McCollors, you were the first to be published, and you’ll always set the standard for doing it with class, girl. Love you! Dee Stewart, you taught me everything I know, and I still haven’t got all that stuff out of that head of yours. You are the ultimate story genius. I can’t wait to hold your Christy Award winner in my hand. (That’s prophetic—reach out and grab it.) Veronica Fields Johnson, I don’t know where I’d be if you hadn’t invited me to that first meeting. Thanks so much for listening to the Holy Spirit and for giving me feedback on the book. Vanessa Madden, another sharp eye that the literary world has yet to behold. Thanks for the feedback. Ashea Goldson, you know you motivated a sister like no one else. Stepped out there and sold your book while I was slackin’. LaMonica, Sharrunn, and Trina—come on now. I’m waiting and so is the world. Visions in Print, thanks for all your support and love. Shawneda Marks—you are so next! To my new family at Urban Christian Books: I’m proud to be in the number. Kendra Norman-Bellamy, Dwan Abrams, Sharon Oliver and Monique Miller, thanks for all the tidbits of knowledge. Joylynn Jossel, thanks so much for taking my novel out of the “NO” pile. Great is your reward in heaven. My agent, Sha-Shana Crichton, thanks for taking me on and believing in me. I promise to make you some money one day! Dana Pittman of Nia Promotions , thanks for reading and giving me feedback. You should be on the payroll by now.
Jeannie Buffington, I appreciate your expertise on the ADR and mediation stuff. I hope I got it right. To my other Mercer classmates, I can’t think about “purpose” without thinking of you. You’ll always be a part of every journey. Desmond Miller, thanks for helping me make Jonah a real man with a real issue. Sherri Lewis, gotta give you some more love for the medical stuff. The same for all the women in my family who make a living in healthcare. See, I was listening. Donnell Kennedy, cuz, when you gonna admit you bleached that dialyzer.
Other people I love: Heather Miller, Travis and Chelsea Miller, Felesia Bowen, Sharon Armstead, Aunt Nell, Aunt Delores (Sis), Aunt Dot, Uncle Downing, Etta Hill. Thanks for your support. If I left you out, forgive me. There’s always book two.
And last but not least, my husband, Basil Nain, thank you for buying my first computer and first comfortable chair and not complaining about why it took me 10 years to produce a book. I appreciate you believing in me. Big hug and Love Always.
To My Readers:
The doctrine of the Trinity—that God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit are each equally and eternally the one true God—is the foundation of the Christian faith. John 14:26 says, “But the Comforter, which is the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you.”
The Comforter, the Holy Spirit, is the small voice in our head that comes from a place in our hearts. The Holy Spirit challenges us, chastises us, comforts us, but most importantly, guides us. In Secrets and Lies, bold print is used to indicate the voice of the Holy Spirit.
I pray Jonah and Faith’s story touches your heart. Thanks for your support.
Chapter 1
He s cheating. Faith Morgan pushed the END button on the phone. Three hang ups in two hours. She tried to shake off the sense of foreboding she felt every time it happened, but she couldn’t. Her heart pounded as she walked back to the island where she’d been chopping the ingredients for her husband’s favorite meal. She looked at the piles of sausage and shrimp, the onions, and other vegetables that were next in line to be sliced and diced. She wanted to swipe everything into the trash can. Jonah didn’t deserve this hard work. Not if some woman was calling their home.
Faith’s shoulders dropped. She leaned her weight back against the counter and let her sneakered feet slide forward along the slick tile until they met the grout and stopped. She had ten years invested in this marriage. It had to last. She couldn’t march down the aisle a third time. It was so Zsa Zsa Gabor-ish. And the truth was, she loved him. She loved the way he looked, she loved the way his scent filled her nostrils when he kissed her goodbye in the morning, she loved that husky quality his voice had just before he fell asleep at night, and she loved the way he touched her—when things were good between them.
A burst of giggles erupted from the family room, and she looked up to see Elise, her four-year-old, who remained positioned in front of the television. Elise adored her father. And at the age of ten, Eric was approaching that time in his life when he’d need a man to help him sort through the man stuff. This wasn’t just about her and whether or not she loved Jonah. She was fighting for the children too.
The ringing of the phone nearly sent her heart into spasms. Not again, she thought. Faith pushed herself off the counter and took the few steps necessary to reach the receiver. She looked at the caller ID, let out the breath she’d been holding, and picked up the phone.
“Hey, girl,” she said.
“I have a taste for Ben and Jerry’s Chunky Monkey. I’ve been craving it for three days.”
Faith’s mouth fell into an easy smile. “So have it. Get some New York Chocolate Chunk for me.”
“No no no,” Yvette Taylor shrieked. “You’re supposed to talk me out of it. Some friend you are. I need to lose five pounds to fit into the dress for the women’s banquet.”
“What you need to do is buy a new dress and stop trying to fit into things you wore in college,” Faith teased.
“Very funny, Miss Forever A Perfect Six. This is a new dress. It’s just the same size as the dresses I wore in college.” Yvette was barely able to keep the laughter out of her voice. “You’re not the only one who can maintain her girlish figure. A sistah can fight to keep the pounds down.”
A small smile parted Faith’s lips as she moved back to the island and began scooping the food she’d chopped into a large bowl. “You’ve dialed the wrong number if you’re looking for someone to tell you to watch your calories. I’m making gumbo.”
“Gumbo in May? You only start chopping and cutting up stuff when you’re stressed. What’s up?”
Faith emptied the bowl into a large pot of soup that was simmering on the stove. Then she looked to make sure Elise was still distracted by the television.
“More phone calls,” she whispered.
Yvette was silent for a moment. “Are they still not saying anything?”
“Just silence and hang-ups.”
“Did you call the phone company?”
“No.” Faith bit her bottom lip.
“Why not?” Yvette asked. “You’re torturing yourself.”
Faith let her eyes fall on the four-carat diamond that weighed down her ring finger and swallowed. “I don’t know. I’m just . . .” She took a deep breath. “Losing, I think,” she whispered. “Losing everything I have.”
“Faith, you’re trippin’. It’s probably just kids or some telemarketing company. Women don’t call wives anymore. Those heifers out there just wanna have fun, not wash some man’s drawers. I’m telling you, it’s not what you’re thinking.”
Faith wanted to believe that, but she had a bad feeling—a hair-rising-on-the-back-of-her-neck kind of feeling—that it was no prank or computer glitch in a telemarketer’s system. Jonah worked late all the time, or so he said. He could easily have another woman with the hours he kept. A wave of nausea swept over her. Just the thought of her husband with another woman made her sick.
“Faith . . .” Yvette’s voice broke through. “Don’t sit around there acting like a victim. That’s not even your style. Call the phone company and have them put a trace on the calls.”
Yvette was right. “I’ll call. I promise. First thing in the morning.”
“You have the interview in the morning. Call now.”
Faith’s eyes rolled upward. She’d forgotten about that. “I should cancel.”
Yvette didn’t say anything.
“I haven’t worked in five years. I’m just going to embarrass myself.”
“Girl, please. You have the bomb resume. You shouldn’t be afraid to step out with it.”
But Faith was afraid. She was afraid of everything. Afraid to go on the interview, afraid of how her husband would react if she found a job, and afraid someone else was stealing her man. Jesus. She had to get it together.
“Look, I’m about to get on the interstate, and I don’t have my earpiece.”
Faith nodded at the phone as if Yvette could see her. “Thanks for listening.”
“What are friends for? You listen to me complain about my money problems.”
“And food cravings,” Faith added with a smile.
“That’s right.”
“Well, girlfriend, pass on the Chunky Monkey. Nothing tastes better than that dress will look on you.”
“I know that’s right.” Yvette let out a cackle. “Later.”
Faith put the phone on the counter, picked up a large spoon, and stirred her masterpiece. That’s what Jonah had called it the last time she prepared her mother’s gumbo recipe. He loved her cooking. He loved her. At least she thought he did. But they had been fighting about everything lately—and now the phone calls. Faith felt tears welling. She clenched her teeth. Yvette was right. She had to be a woman about this. Let the phone company trace the calls. If he was cheating, she’d have to deal with it.
“Mommy, is the gumba soup almost done?” Elise had crept up and was now pulling the tail of her blouse.
Faith kept her back to her until she got her face together. Forcing a smile, she turned. Elise reminded Faith of sunshine standing there with her long auburn curls falling in ringlets around her small heart-shaped face.
“Mommy, why are you sad?”
Faith tried to mask her feelings by forcing another smile. She lowered her body so that she was almost eye level to her daughter. “Mommy’s not sad, honey.”
“You are too. Your smile is not in your eyes,” Elise said. “Are you mad at Daddy?”
Faith crossed her fingers behind her back. “No, baby. I’m not mad at Daddy.”
“Good. ‘Cause I don’t like it when you and Daddy are mad.”
Elise’s words stung. So much for hiding their problems from the children. Obviously she hadn’t done that as well as she thought. The child knew a phony smile when she saw one, and there had been plenty of those in the past few months.
“Why don’t you let me finish cooking so we can eat and go to church.”
“But I wanna help you,” Elise whined.
Faith needed Elise out of the room. She felt guilty about it, but her emotions were too raw to deal with her children right now. Besides, it was still possible that she could call the phone company today, and she didn’t want Elise to overhear.
“Why don’t you go upstairs and find your smock? I bet they’ll let you paint tonight.”
Elise was silent for a moment, obviously considering her mother’s offer.
Faith leaned over and playfully swirled her index finger around in her daughter’s bellybutton. Girlish giggles filled the kitchen as she scooped Elise up in one arm and continued to tickle her with her free hand.
