At a Mirror’S Glance

By Savaslas Lofton

Lisa Williams had it allexquisite beauty, a lucrative career, and a fabulous home. As a high-powered marketing executive for a Fortune 500 firm, she called the shots and meticulously planned every aspect of her privileged life. Every aspect, that is, except
When her father died unexpectedly in her junior year of college, gone, too, was that moral compass that was to guide Lisa safely toward true love. Naive and uncertain when it came to matters of the heart, she gave herself completely over to a series of failed relationships. In the end, Daniels well-hidden secret nearly caused Lisa to throw in the towel on life when his dirty laundry came to light. But, somehow, she found the strength to press forward. Although barely.
Behind the torturous suffering of unrequited love, she buried her passions deep within and vowed never again to allow her heart to lead her astray. To avoid the pain that nearly drove her to suicide, Lisa developed a failsafe, ten-rule checklist to screen for the next Mr. Right.
Everything worked perfectly until Jacob entered the picture. While definitely not a man Lisas overbearing, status-driven mother would approve of, he was every bit the knight in shining armor she had been praying for. Only one problem: how would she get past the fact that Jacob did not even meet the top two rules on her checklist?
Take this journey with Lisa as she tries desperately to reclaim the bright optimism and certainty of her youth while leaving behind the pain and disillusionment of her present. And discover whether she truly can reconcile Jacobs shortcomings with her trusted checklist.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Oct 26, 2011
• ISBN: 9781467064903

Savaslas Lofton

Savaslas Lofton has been blessed with a remarkable gift of speaking, musical, and writing talent. He has served as a columnist for WOW (Women of the Word) Magazine and VISION Newspaper and has been featured on numerous radio talk shows for his unique insight into relationships and marriage. His writings have changed the lives of many all over the world. He is a widow and loving father of four beautiful children, David, Josiah, Gabriel, and Eden Lofton (a miracle his wife left behind in his care). Savaslas currently lives in El Paso, Texas.

Book preview

Prologue

I could tie a string around my finger, close my eyes, and imagine that I am not alone. Nevertheless, one day, life will force me to face reality. I was a junior in college when my father passed away from a heart attack. I knew I would never be the same again. I can still hear his voice echoing in my mind as I sit gazing out of my bedroom window at the shadow of blue skies and the peaceful silhouette of beautiful pine trees. He was never a man of many words, speaking the majority of the time through gifts and his affection. When I was younger, he would embrace me when he came home from work.

The savory aroma of honey curry—glazed chicken and rice mixed with the sweet smell of moist chocolate cake would fill the kitchen, and my mother would tell me to wash my hands as she prepared for the three of us a full-course meal. Racing to the table from the bathroom, I would find my father tickling my mother, making her laugh so that he could see the delightful dimples in her cheeks.

My mother and I accompanied my father, a retired pilot in the United States Air Force, from base to base, moving every two to three years. The delight of making new friends also meant the pain of departure. I learned to hold on to the only consistent thing in my life at the time—my family. Dad retired from the military and started flying commercial aircraft for American Airlines, while my mother began focusing her attention on finishing law school. Everything felt picture—perfect—until he passed.

After his death, my life felt void and empty. I found myself pursuing unhealthy relationships, doing my best to compensate for the affection I had once received from my father.

Academic success and career promotions I received failed to make up for the loss of my father’s warm smile and embrace.

What do my colleagues say about all of this? Quite simple: find a man. Shift your hips a little bit and show more cleavage. How are you going to catch a man if you don’t show him you’re available? My friends would often tease me at social gatherings and parties, claiming that I was stiff or took life too seriously.

They thought I should put myself on display as if I were some T-bone steak or something. It was easier to find other things to do, such as gracing a coffee shop or bookstore, thumbing through novels and magazines, or writing poetry about my fond memories of him to help pass time away. Besides, playing the lover’s game was just too complicated for me. I cloaked myself in the garment of my career. Locking all of my emotions in a nice little treasure box, throwing away the key into the sea of forgetfulness… that is, until Jacob came along.

Chapter 1

Love made an unexpected appointment for me on Sunday.

It’s so nice to see you, sweetheart, she said softly, reaching for my hand, thankfully disregarding the deep glance the handsome stranger and I had exchanged from across the sanctuary. She was a petite little woman, seventy-five years old, with symmetrical cheeks like pearls.

Did you enjoy the service, baby? she asked kindly. My heels felt bolted to the floor as I scanned, searching for his location. He was drawing closer, speaking with different families and visitors as he approached.

Yes, of course, ma’am. Thank you for asking. This is a lovely church, I might add, I said. The sanctuary was adorned in a mixture of violet and gold, with cherry-wood trimmings. Stunning was the cathedral-like ceiling, architecturally designed at just the right angles, accented by sparkling crystal chandeliers throughout. Plush stadium seats aligned the stage in a semicircle, comfortably seating over two thousand people.

That’s very kind of you. She nodded her head in acknowledgement. So, what is your name, baby, and where are you from? She studied the features of my face as if she had seen me before but wasn’t quite sure where.

My name is Lisa Williams, and I live about an hour away in a gated community in Fort Worth.

My, that’s where the fancy people live isn’t it? You’re one of those gals whose house is on that show—what’s it called again? she said, scratching her gray and white wig.

MTV Cribs? I said taking a wild guess.

Yeah, MTV Cribs! You’re not one of those fancy video bunnies, are you? She chuckled.

I giggled in my hands at the gesture. No ma’am. Don’t worry; I make an honest living. It took a lot of saving, investing, and sacrifice to get to where I am today.

And I am sure your parents are so very proud of you.

Yes they are. Although my father is no longer with me, but I believe he would be proud just the same.

She adjusted the glasses that were descending to the tip of her nose. I’m sorry to hear that, she empathized.

That’s okay. I smiled.

Is this your first time visiting with us?

Yes, it is.

How did you hear about our church?

I saw Dr. Moore on television the other night and thought that, as soon as I had the opportunity, I would visit. Traveling and working overtime rarely allows me the time to refuel emotionally and spiritually. With this being my first Sunday off in a very long time, I decided to do something different, to begin making positive changes in my life by coming to church instead of resting at home.

You are such a bright young lady. I am so glad you chose to do the right thing. Did you fill out the visitor’s information so we can stay in contact with you from now on? You know, make sure you are all right, she said, with southern hospitality.

No ma’am, it must have slipped my mind. I must have been so entranced with how beautiful this place is that I forgot to fill out my information and place it in the collection basket. Please accept my apology.

No need to worry. That is quite all right. By the way, my name is Mother Naomi Johnson, and I want you to make sure you come back to see us again here. She looked intently into my eyes, placing my hands in hers. She summoned an usher to provide a white piece of paper and black pen, normally used by people who wanted to take sermon notes. Here, baby. Here is my number. If you need anything, I mean anything, don’t hesitate to give me a call, you hear? I could feel the softness of her palm and her bonelike fingers as she held my face between her hands. I took the piece of paper and placed it in my fashionable handbag, snuggled against my blush brush, checkbook, and compact mirror.

Thank you so much, Mother Johnson. I’ll be sure to give you a call if I need anything, and thank you for your kind hospitality, I said as she departed. I smiled and turned to reach for my sunglasses that had fallen to the ground from the seat.

A deep voice startled me, sending a chill through my body as I made ready to depart. Don’t you just love Mother Johnson? The voice softly emerged. His eyes were like pools of water, dark brown and alluring. He wore an exquisite tailored black suit with polished black shoes, a starched white shirt, and a striped power tie. He was clean-cut; his age was about thirty-six, and he stood approximately six foot three. His goatee was neatly trimmed and haircut freshly faded—cut the day before, I imagined. His skin was the color of dark chocolate. His left hand bore no wedding ring.

I just met her, but from what I’ve gathered, she seems to be a very hospitable and wise woman, I said, glancing at her out of the corner of my eyes, admiring the glow of her disposition as she spoke with a group of older women in front of the long row of tapestry windows to the left of the sanctuary.

That she is. She is in charge of our hospitality committee. After all of these years, she still possesses the love necessary to make everyone who graces our doors feel right at home, he said, waving cordially to others as they departed. I’m sorry; I don’t ever recall seeing you before.

I guess that shows how much you know who really attends this church, I teased. A warm smile absorbed the features of his face. I was hoping he would forgive my awkward sense of humor.

We do have a lot of people who attend here, you know. It is virtually impossible to remember everyone… except a beautiful woman such as yourself. You stood out to me today, and I just wanted to come over and say hello. His eyes sparkled like diamonds.

That’s very kind of you. Although that is a bold statement to make, especially to a woman you’ve never met before. Do you say stuff like that to every woman you meet?

Of course not. I’m not that naive. He laughed. I figured you wouldn’t mind if I told you the truth, he said, and besides, there was no harm intended. I just wanted you to feel welcomed. Forgive me if it came across as an advance.

The experience was a total paradox for me. If he were any other man, I would have told him where to go. Believe you me, that place wouldn’t have been a candy store. However, he hit the jackpot with two things going for him—he was very charming, and his disposition seemed rather honest and straightforward.

Listen. I know you probably have a million things to do. I just wanted to say welcome to our church, and if there’s anything we can do to make you feel more at home, to let us know.

Wait, I said, biting my lip as he began walking away. Aren’t you going to at least give me your name?

My name is Jacob. Jacob Foster. And you? He extended his hand toward me. I almost let him slip away. Here was my chance. Maybe to other people, I might seem desperate, but I wasn’t willing to settle for the big what if. If I wanted to make room for Mr. Right, it was best to let him know I was home if he made a respectable effort to knock. Step number six on my list of rules for finding my Mr. Do-Me-Right. And, before number four, learning from past mistakes, was doing something different like meeting new people. I mentally checked both off my list.

My name is Lisa Williams. I gave my standard, businesslike introduction. His thumb lightly touched the top of my hand. Well, I think you better go now. I am sure your family is waiting on you, I said.

Family? The only family I have is my church family and relatives that call me from time to time asking for me to pay for their electricity when they are past due. He chuckled. And you?

Just my mother, who lives in Washington, D.C. That’s also where the rest of my family is from.

That’s good to know, he said, coughing slightly. I wasn’t sure if he had something in his throat or if he was delighted to know I was single. I mean, that you have family, that is, he said, relieved. Will you be back on Wednesday? We have an awesome Bible study.

I may or may not. Who knows, especially with my busy work schedule?

So, what do you do for a living, if I may ask? Jacob said, intrigued. He leaned over, planting his left hand on the soft theater seat in front of us.

I’m marketing manager at Duncan and Myer Company, downtown. The stage lights began turning off, one at a time, giving a soft ambiance to the atmosphere.

How ironic. We order products from Duncan and Myer all of the time, he said, surprised.

You do? What company do you work for?

It’s actually a school. Franklin Elementary as a matter of fact.

Minister Foster, don’t forget we have a ministers’ meeting Saturday morning to discuss plans for the youth program. How are you doing, sister? Pastor Moore, who was in his mid-fifties, said. He slapped Jacob on the side of the shoulder as he passed, his wife following, to greet members and visitors as they exited the sanctuary.

Wow, you’re a minister too? A man of many hats, I see. Blood rushed to my face out of embarrassment. Rule number two on my don’t-do list, right after not dating men with bad credit, was never date a preacher.

I suppose you can say that, he said humbly. I’m not big on titles, though. Brother, Minister, Jacob, to me it’s all the same. When I stand before God, I don’t think He’s going to judge me by a title but by the life I’ve led, he said in simplicity. May I help you gather your things? He scanned the area where I was sitting. His biceps bulged under his suit jacket as he knelt and braced himself to stand after looking under the seat.

I found it difficult to concentrate as my mind flickered with thoughts too aberrant for church. Snap out of it girl! I heard a voice declaring inside my head as I struggled to regain focus. Our lives would travel two different paths. I couldn’t do this. Besides, I wasn’t ready for someone to make me feel self-conscious; feeling like God was going to send me to hell for every little mistake. In the end, being married to a preacher meant submitting to whatever he said, as other women threw themselves at his feet.

Thank you, Minister, for your help, but…

Call me Jacob, please, he said politely, interrupting and handing me my business pen that had dropped from my purse.

Minister Jacob. I apologize, but I must be going. My stomach churned with a sensation like the feeling you get before descending the slope of a fierce roller-coaster ride.

So soon? May I at least walk you to your car? His disposition saddened as he also handed me my car keys.

That’s very kind of you, but I should be fine. I motioned to be excused into the aisle.

I sure would love… He cleared his throat. I mean, we would love to see you again.

We’ll see what happens.

My heart sank as he offered to hug me as if he would never see me again. Swaddled as if by a blanket in his strong arms, I closed my eyes, letting my mind journey. I wanted that moment spent in his arms to last forever.

I got into my car and took a moment to breathe; I checked my makeup in the rearview mirror before putting the key into the ignition. I could still smell the light scent of his cologne in the delicate fibers of my blouse, and the sun’s rays were starting to warm the outer layers of my skin. I took the scenic route home, pondering if our encounter was enough to revisit.

Chapter 2

Is he thinking about me as much as I am thinking of him? I wondered that afternoon, slipping into my silk pajamas. I was spiraling emotionally as I struggled within myself, wondering what was so different about Jacob. Would I have the same interest in him if he were a lot shorter and less handsome? On the other hand, maybe his smile, much like my father’s, was able to put my apprehensiveness at ease.

Most Sunday afternoons, I would pass time away doing crossword puzzles or browsing the Web for items at Neiman Marcus. I didn’t believe in love at first sight, but this was the first time in a long time I had had feelings for someone this strong. Remain successful, protected, and single—yeah, that would be a good approach. At least then, the outcome was predictable. I was mentally and emotionally perplexed, ensnared between logic and romanticism.

I called India, my sorority sister and best friend since my first year in college. India had become a celebrated radio talk show personality. Her career and attire were always in harmony with her extroverted personality. She usually preferred fashionable jeans, stylish graphic T-shirts, and vintage blazers for work. In college, she hardly stressed over anything but procrastinated in almost everything. India was also an aerobics instructor part-time, teaching aerobics classes every Saturday morning at Body Works Gym and Spa, which contributed to her looking a lot younger than thirty-seven. She wore her hair in beautiful, flowing shoulder-length sister locks, accented with gold tips. Her eyes were light brown, and her eyelashes boasted a naturally long appearance.

I heard the phone ring four times before hearing her voice on the answering machine.

Hi, you’ve reached the home of India Deloatch. I’m sorry I can’t come to the phone right now, but if you leave your name and number after the beep, I will be sure to return your call as soon as possible. Oh… and if you are a bill collector, stop calling me all of the time. You will get your money when you get it. Thanks… bye! There was a brief pause after the beep. I let out a big sigh out of frustration.

"India, if you’re there, pick up the phone, girl, I’ve got something to ask you. India… pick up, I know