Once Upon a Door Knock

“Lord, are You pleased with me?” Harriet wept. Softly baby Jance cooed in the background while waiting for her to nurse him again. The lights flickered again, reminding her of the crappy electrical job her landlord did. Harriet wished Duke replaced the fixtures as well, but he retorted, “It’s like they say. If it ain’t broke, I won’t fix it.”

She shuddered at the thought of letting him back in any way since what he wanted for pay she refused to give. Deep in her heart, though condemnation tugged at her mind, she knew she made God smile. Harriet passed the test, and no one could take that away from her.

The Knock

Suddenly, she was jolted from her thoughts as she heard someone knocking on her door. Bewildered, she whispered, “Who in the world could this be knocking at my door? No one other than my landlord and neighbors knows I’m here.” Quietly she walked across that grimy tile and tiptoeing. She looked through the peephole. She gasped when she saw it was an officer on the other side of the door.

As if on cue, Jance began to wail, “Mommy, nay!” That was his way of asking her to nurse him. Rushing back to the door with her baby in her arms, she answered.

“Hello, I’m Officer Chance Stowe. Sorry ma’am, but are you Harriet McLeardon?” Once in her life, she was grateful for her dark chocolate skin because that hid the flush of her face as she gazed into his hazel eyes. They were so warm and inviting; she felt she could get lost in them. He had to be every bit of 6’4″ with curly, sandy hair framing his pecan-colored face. Suddenly, Harriet was more aware of how she had to appear to him. Pink fluffy house socks with a matching oversized sweatshirt, faded black leggings, with her long black dreadlocks in a messy bun—with baby Jance bawling on her hip. Lord, help me because my God today! That’s all she could think.

I hope part one was a treasure! Stay tuned for part two tomorrow!

Featured photo by Samantha Sophia on Unsplash

Please follow and like us:

3 Comments Add yours

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.