Then Sings My Soul (The Langston Family Saga Book 2) Read online

  Then Sings My Soul

  The Langston Family Saga: Book 2

  LaShonda Bowman

  Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  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

  The Langston Family Saga concludes in…

  Wanna Know More?

  Copyright © 2016 by LaShonda Bowman

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  To Sister Number 2 A.K.A. Rocky the Squirrel

  You said I could do it even when I didn’t think I could.

  Thank you, thank you, thank you.

  Chapter 1

  Kristina Langston sat on the floor of the linen closet and peeked through the slats of the door. When she was sure she hadn’t been followed, she took out her phone and tapped the first name listed on her call history.

  "Hello?"

  Kristina smiled. Even the sound of his voice brought her joy. Having Xavier in her life was better than any drug she’d taken or award she’d won. Every thought of him was a reminder of how incredibly good God was.

  "Hey, baby! Sorry I couldn't pick up earlier."

  "Um, it's okay… Why are you whispering?"

  "I'm hiding in the closet."

  Kristina had to cover the phone in an effort to muffle the howling laughter that came through from the other side. Then she had to cover her own mouth for the same reason.

  "Hold up," Xavier said, still laughing. "It sounded like you said you were hiding in the closet!"

  "I did! And if you don't stop making me laugh, I'm gonna get busted."

  "Please explain to me why America's Queen of Pop is hiding in a closet."

  "It's that dumb reality show."

  “Oh, yeah. The one about the tour.”

  “Yep.”

  "Why in the world are they making you hide in a closet?"

  "It wasn’t their idea. They're the ones I'm hiding from. They're like stalkers, X. Worse than the paparazzi. Especially the producer’s assistant. This little girl named Amy. I caught her waiting outside the bathroom door last time I went!"

  “Maybe she really had to go,” Xavier said, now laughing harder than before.

  “And that explains why she had her ear to the door? Uh…no. I don’t think so.”

  "Wait. She had her ear to the door? Why?"

  Kristina sighed. "You know, the usual. That producer is hoping for a little more than behind-the-scenes footage. I think he’s hoping for Dallas."

  "Oh."

  "Yeah."

  Neither she nor Xavier had ever brought up her overdose in Dallas. Knowing that it took place right after the first interaction she’d ever had with her son made Kristina cringe. Even now, months later, it hurt to think about it. A few moments passed in silence.

  "How are you doing? I know you got a lot going on with this show and the tour. You okay?”

  “Yeah, I'm good. I've been reading my Bible every day and I talk to Robin on a regular basis. I’m handling it. You don't have to worry. They may want Dallas, but they're not gonna get it."

  "I'm really proud of you."

  Kristina felt warmth spread across her cheeks. "Thanks. That means a lot, baby."

  She heard Xavier take a deep breath. “Hey. I, um, wanted to talk to you about something…"

  Kristina's gut clenched. She had a pretty good idea what it was Xavier wanted to talk about. She’d been dreading the conversation since he'd come to see her at rehab.

  "I was wondering—“

  Before he could finish his sentence, Kristina stopped him. She thought she’d heard the laundry room door open, then close. She ducked her head to peek between the slats again. All she could make out was gray, loose fitting slacks coming straight toward her. Seconds later, the linen closet door opened.

  "Scoot over!" Pam nudged Kristina with her foot as she squeezed into the closet with her.

  "What are you doing?"

  "What does it look like I'm doing? Same as you. Hiding from Amy!" Pam sat on the floor and sucked her teeth. "Has it really come to this? Grown women hiding in a linen closet? I should have killed the contract for the show like you wanted me to. A lawsuit would have been preferable to this mess!"

  "Aunt Pam?"

  Pam stiffened and shot a glance at Kristina. Kristina held up her phone for Pam to see. Pam grabbed her chest and then the phone.

  "Xavier? Boy, you scared me!"

  Again, Xavier’s laughter filled the small space.

  "Oh man, I wish I was there right now. I'd give anything to see the two of you packed in a closet like a couple of sardines."

  "Shut up."

  Kristina covered her mouth to stifle her laughter. Xavier didn't even try.

  "You two are just alike," Pam said into the phone while cutting her eyes at Kristina. "Messy. Both of you."

  Just then, the laundry door opened once more. Pam stuffed the phone under her thigh. Kristina lowered her head to look through the slats and saw Amy poking around. A few moments later, the girl walked back out.

  "She's gone," Kristina breathed.

  Pam picked up the phone, but the call had been disconnected. Kristina cocked her head to the side.

  "Did your big ol’ thigh hang up on my son?"

  "Shut up."

  Pam felt for Kristina’s hand in the darkness and returned the phone.

  "I don't know how much more of this I can take. That little girl is driving me crazy."

  While Pam ran through all the possible solutions to their Amy problem, Kristina tried to think through one of her own. She was sure Xavier wanted her to help him find his father. But while Kristina loved her son with all her heart, she couldn't think of anything she wanted to do less.

  "Is this more like what you gentlemen had in mind?"

  Omar Williams looked around the somewhat dilapidated house and nodded. "It's a definite possibility."

  The young real estate agent that had asked the question, blushed. "I'm so glad! Let me show you around."

  She reached for Omar's elbow just as his friend and business partner, Brock Collier, spoke up.

  “Can you give us a few moments?"

  She froze, mid-reach for Omar's arm, a pained expression on her face. But she quickly recovered with a smile and chirped, “Of course! I'll be right outside. Just holler if you need me."

  When she’d gone out the front door and closed it behind her, Omar found Brock staring at him.

  "What?"

  "I was just wondering if I should check your arm for bruises. She's been hanging off it every chance she gets. If we look at any more houses today, you might have to have her surgically removed."

  Omar fought a grin and opened the coat closet door to look inside. "Don't start with me, man."

  “You did notice she's interested, right? I know women usually have to send up flares to get your attention, but she looks like she just stepped off a Victoria’s Secret runway. Please tell me you noticed that." />
  Omar walked through the living room and into the kitchen, Brock close behind. He opened one of the cabinet doors and knocked on it. "Real wood. And in good shape, too. We’d just have to paint them.“

  "She probably works out. Did you see how tight her a—“

  "But these countertops will have to go." Omar said, cutting Brock off before turning down the hall and entering a bedroom. "We should make the windows bigger. Let in more light. It'll open up the smaller rooms."

  "What we should do," Brock said, standing in the doorway, hands stuffed in his pockets, "is talk about your inability to recognize a beautiful woman making passes at you."

  Omar took out a tape measure and anchored the end at a corner of the room. “Sure. Right after we talk about your inability to shadow a church door."

  Brock dismissed Omar with a wave of his hand. "Man, I already told you a million times. If I step foot inside a church, I’ll get struck down in two seconds flat."

  Omar adjusted the measuring tape to a new position and snorted.

  "Besides, those sermons are too long. You know how black folks are. They make church an all day event. Now if you become Catholic at some point, I might reconsider."

  Omar clicked a button and the measuring tape snapped back into its casing. "You're wrong, man."

  "I know. That's what I'm trying to tell you.” Brock followed Omar to the hall and into a small bathroom.

  "I'm not asking you to come every Sunday. But you should be there for the house donations. It's once every two months. Six times a year. You could do that. It would give the families a chance to thank you." Omar leaned over and turned on the tub spout. "We'll need new fittings on this."

  "Naw, man. I'm good. They thank you enough for the both of us."

  Omar straightened up and folded his arms. "You could at least come this Sunday." He held up an index finger. "One time. You're already coming to my house for the party afterwards. You might as well."

  Brock's eyes lit up. "Oh, yeah! Miss Chloe's birthday!" He rubbed his hands together and grinned. "I've been looking forward to this. Tell me. Just how many hot and ready single mothers you got coming to this thing?"

  Omar shook his head and went back to the hallway. "Besides Marisa?"

  Brock dropped his head and groaned. "Why did you even have to bring her up? Especially when I was having such a great day."

  "Because," Omar said, stepping into another bedroom. "I'm talking to both of you about this. No beef, you hear me? There's going to be a lot of children there and I want Chloe to have a good time. Don’t make me have to kick you two out of my house. This is not a joke. You act up, that’s exactly what I’ll do. Understood?"

  Brock sighed. "Understood. I won't throw any buckets of water at the wicked witch until the next time I see her."

  "See? That right there. Don't. I mean it, Brock. Either of you even looks at the other one sideways and I'll show you the door."

  Brock put his hands up in surrender. "Fine. I'll avoid her. I promise."

  "Thank you." Omar knelt down and pulled up the carpet in one corner of the bedroom. “Looks like we got hardwood down here." He stood. "If the master is good, I think we should make this our next donation house."

  Brock nodded, but remained silent.

  Omar stopped in front of him. “What? You gonna pout now?"

  "You just told me no fighting with Marisa. What do you expect?"

  Omar couldn't help but snicker as he made his way to the master bedroom.

  "Hey," Brock called as he followed. "We've got a few buyers on the Centre Street property. I think we should take it to negotiations."

  Omar went into the master bedroom and nodded. "Okay. Have it scheduled."

  Brock made a note on his iPad. “And we are definitely a go on this one?"

  "I say yes. You?"

  Brock nodded. "Looks good to me." Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he added, "I'll go get your arm candy. Should I give you two some time alone?"

  Omar grinned. "I don't know. Should I give you directions to my church?"

  Brock pressed his lips together and slowly shook his head. "You really know how to ruin my day, don't you?"

  Chapter 2

  Kristina brought the warm mug of steaming Earl Grey tea to her nose and inhaled. The morning light came through the huge bay window at the breakfast nook where she sat and outside, birds happily chirped their sweet sounding song.

  The golden sunlight that filtered in was the perfect complement to the neutral tones of the French Country style kitchen that surrounded her. She’d had the space completely remodeled years ago, while on the road. But it wasn’t until the last few months that she’d come to fully appreciate it. Turned out there was no better place for early morning one-on-one time with her heavenly Father.

  Although it had become her daily routine, the peace and calm she felt each daybreak as she read her Bible and meditated on God's Word was something she was still getting used to. For the first time in her life, she understood why it was called being born again. She felt like an entirely new person. The thought brought a smile to her lips. Wasn't that what the Word said? Old things are passed away, all things are made new...

  She was repeating those words, letting them soak down into her spirit, when Pam came through the archway and into the kitchen.

  Kristina reluctantly put down her cup of tea.

  "I know that look. It's the one you get right before you tell me something I don't wanna hear."

  Pam didn't deny it. She sat across from Kristina and folded one hand over the other. "Okay. You know the promotion I told you about? The one the record company wanted to do?"

  "Vaguely. What about it?"

  Pam shifted in her seat. "This is the thing, Krissi. Right now, everyone's nervous. You haven't toured in a while. There's been a death in the family. Then there was the…incident at the hotel. Not to mention rehab."

  Kristina still couldn't tell where this was going but she was even more sure she wasn't gonna like it. "Yeah…”

  "TMZ, the entertainment blogs, the so-called press—they're all waiting to see what's going to happen next. Whether you'll be able to deliver on the first stop of the tour. There's already been some speculation and promoters are worried that all the rumors will affect ticket sales."

  Kristina nodded. This was something she’d expected. Everyone had. Of course, people were curious to know what would happen next. Her life had become a primetime drama straight out of Shondaland.

  "So, they had this idea for you to have a—I don't know—call it a pre-tour warm-up. Smaller than what you're doing on the tour itself. A more intimate venue, packed with only hard-core fans. Kinda like what they do in the theater world with the review night. They're hoping it'll give you a chance to perform post-rehab, but under less pressure. And they're hoping those hard-core fans will spread the word via social media and let everyone know that you're still doing your thing, rehab or not."

  Knowing that such an in-depth explanation was Pam's way of stalling, Kristina waited for the hammer to drop.

  "And…"

  "And, it's actually a really great idea for several reasons. All proceeds after costs are being donated to that charity you worked with last year. The official name of the promotion is Show Some Love. And what they did is, well, whichever city showed you the most love in the online contest would win the performance. It's actually kind of clever. They show you love, you show them love, you all show the charity love—“

  Kristina rolled her head back in exasperation. "Pam! Just spit it out already!”

  Pam dropped her head to her shoulder and exhaled. She took out her phone and tapped the screen. "The city that won was the one you haven't performed in since your first tour."

  She slid the phone across the table. Kristina looked down at the screen and saw the header of her record label’s website. Under it was her smiling face and a banner that read:

  Congratulations, Dallas, Texas! You showed Kristina the most love and Orion Records
is thanking you with an exclusive one night only performance before the official tour kicks off!

  "Are you serious right now?"

  All traces of the morning’s previous peace and calm evaporated.

  Yes, old things had passed away, but that didn't mean Kristina's feelings about her hometown had gone with them. There was a reason she avoided the metroplex at all costs. When she’d been there a few months ago, it was only because her mother had died and she had no choice but to attend the funeral.

  "Before you get started, I've already tried to change it. But there's no way around it. Dallas won. You're doing a show there, like it or not."

  "But what—“

  Before Kristina could finish her sentence, Tamia swooped in to the kitchen, a tablet in hand.

  Pam sat up. “When did you get here?”

  Instead of answering, Tamia folded back the tablet case into a stand and set it on the table. She turned it in Kristina and Pam's direction. The two sisters were greeted by a very uncomfortable looking Xavier on the screen.

  Tamia leaned over the tablet so the top of her face was visible to the camera. "Just do it."

  "Do what?" Pam asked.

  Kristina looked from Xavier to Tamia and back to Xavier again. "What happened? What's wrong?"

  Xavier gave them a weak smile and waved. "Hey, Aunt Pam. Hi, Krissi." He hesitated. "Nothing's wrong…"

  Tamia snatched up the tablet and turned it to face her. "Xavier, no one's going to bite your head off. Just ask." She turned the tablet so Xavier and her sisters were again facing each other.

  Pam leaned her crossed arms onto the table. "Xavier, if there's something you need, you know you can always come to us. About anything."

  He nodded in acknowledgment but didn't take his eyes off Kristina. But because she’d just realized what the video call was about, Kristina didn't take her eyes off her cup of tea.

  Xavier took a deep breath and exhaled. "I'd like to meet my biological father."

  Pam looked at Kristina, who was still staring at her mug. Then Pam shot a look at Tamia.