Chapter 1 : Part 1

Forgivin' Ain't Forgettin'
by Mata Elliott

A wrenching betrayal from long ago has left Cassidy Beckett a broken and unforgiving woman. For years, her solution has been to immerse herself in being a schoolteacher, running the reading program at her church, and burying her feelings behind her faith.

She's definitely not interested in Trevor Monroe, her community's hotly pursued Mighty Man of God-and not happy that this widower and single father has come to live with her and her aunt... or that he has a knack for getting through her defenses. But a bond between them is starting to grow, and soon Cassidy's past rises up, demanding to be dealt with. Now only the kind of deliverance and wisdom that God provides can help them find healing in His Word-and each other...

Chapter 1

Ear-piercing screams filled the air. Cassidy Beckett tucked the towel around the baby and hugged him closer. She kissed his wrinkled forehead and rocked back and forth. "What's the matter with it?" Minister's voice crackled with hostility.

"I don't know." Cassidy gulped, and more of her tears fell onto the bundle in her arms. Earlier, she had cleaned him up the best she knew how, then rubbed lotion on his tender skin. Now Cassidy pressed her cheek against the baby and sniffed, holding his soft scent inside her nostrils until her lungs gave way. "I don't know how to calm him," she cried, her voice shaking with each word.

"Well, you better hurry up and figure something out." Contempt blazed in Minister's eyes as he stared at the baby.

Cassidy's cell phone hummed a series of notes, and she forced herself to stop thinking about Minister and the baby. Focusing on the present, she answered the phone. The caller had the wrong number, and after a polite exchange, Cassidy ended the call as the cab she occupied merged with the stream of traffic aiming for the next off-ramp. She was at least ten minutes from her destination, and so she had time to check her messages, and she logged in the code. One message waited in her voice mail box. Cassidy gritted her teeth and sighed from a place inside that was tired of dealing with Sister Maranda Whittle. She quickly scribbled Maranda's number on a small notepad, then called the number, ready to take on Maranda for the last time.

"Praise the Lord!" Maranda answered after the second ring.

"Hello, Sister Whittle. This is Cassidy Beck-" "Oh, yes, Cassidy," Maranda cut in. Maranda smiled a full beam whenever she spoke to Cassidy at church, so Cassidy imagined Maranda was fully charged now. "I'm so glad you called. Have you given any more thought to our previous conversation?"

Cassidy's stomach burned. "No . . . not much." "The Sparrow Ministry could use a young woman like you. Why don't you come to our next meeting?"

No can do. Cassidy could not make the next meeting, the reason enfolded in personal conflict, which she would never unfold with Maranda or anyone else. So why couldn't she just be blunt and answer Maranda with a no? Like the other times they'd spoken on this topic, her tongue hardened, and she could not lift it to speak one word that would let Maranda know without question she wasn't interested in joining the Sparrow Ministry. Maranda stated the time and place for the next Sparrow Ministry staff meeting, probably assuming Cassidy was writing the information down. As if she sensed Cassidy's desire to hang up, Maranda rushed through an oration on the ins and outs of the Sparrow Ministry that she had shared with Cassidy once before. "You be blessed," Maranda tooted at the end of the call.

"You, too," said Cassidy. "Here we are," the cabdriver said. Cassidy suddenly realized the driver had parked in front of her house. He came around, opened her door, raised his cap, and scratched his bald, dark-colored scalp. He put his cap back on tight, and only the woolly gray sideburns were visible again. Cassidy stretched her legs through the doorway and vacated the burned-popcorn-smelling car she'd spent sixty minutes of her life in. As the hem of a denim skirt dropped below her calves, she smiled up at the three-story semidetached dwelling standing before her. The bulbs in the pine boxes that bordered the second-level windows had bloomed while she was away, and a breeze encouraged the tiny flowers to wave and bow at her as if they were welcoming home royalty.

After a sigh of optimism, Cassidy said, "It's good to be back." She harbored no doubts, questions, or regrets. Leaving San Diego, returning to her children, remained a wise decision.

The driver, who'd introduced himself as Benny at the airport, spoke with certainty. "I'm sure you missed your little girl."

Cassidy frowned, and Benny pointed toward the walkway leading to the brick house. A toy Corvette with an African American Barbie doll lounging in the passenger seat was parked in the dirt beneath a manicured shrub. Cassidy rubbed a hand over her microbraids from the start of her hairline to the bun at the back of her head. "One of the neighborhood girls must have left it there," she said. No children lived at this address, just she and her great-aunt, Odessa. Several years prior, upon completion of graduate school, Cassidy had planned on moving out of Odessa's house and renting an apartment. But Odessa had suggested that Cassidy continue living here and they would share the household bills.

Cassidy grinned as she thought of how surprised Odessa was going to be. Cassidy hadn't told her she was returning today.

Benny lifted a large suitcase from the trunk and started toward the house.

"No," Cassidy objected right away, "I can handle that." Benny shrugged and placed the luggage at the edge of the walkway, and she handed him the fare with a generous tip.

Rounding his vehicle to the driver's side, Benny shouted, "Enjoy the rest of the day . . . and the summer."

Cassidy planned to enjoy every remaining slice of summer vacation. Breathing in the delicate fragrance of her aunt's small garden, she flung aside the memory of Larenz Flemings, the man she'd dated at this time last year. Cassidy already vowed that this summer would be better, brighter, and by all means date-free, with the exception of Oliver Toby. Cassidy and Oliver Toby had a date every Wednesday afternoon.

Copyright © 2006 by Vermata Elliott

About the Author

Mata Elliott began writing, her first novel, Forgivin' Ain't Forgettin' during the difficult season of caregiving for two ailing parents. Prior to taking on the role as care giver, she graduated from Temple University with a degree in education and taught on the elementary level for nearly ten years. When Mata is not writing, she enjoys reading, taking long walks, eating ice cream, watching romantic movies with her husband, and playing with her two senior citizen cats. Mata has a soft spot in her heart for all animals and whenever possible she makes it her mission to rescue stray or abandoned cats and dogs and find them a loving home. Mata is the mother of one son and she lives in Philadelphia.