'Til I Want No More Read online

  Praise for Robin W. Pearson

  “’Til I Want No More feels like an extended afternoon at a family reunion barbecue, complete with mouthwatering food, spilled family secrets, and voices of faith that never lose hope. This brilliantly written story reminds us that God is bigger than the struggles that all families face, yet as a woman of color, I love that Robin’s courageous characters look and sound like me.”

  BARB ROOSE, speaker and author of Surrendered: Letting Go and Living like Jesus and Joshua: Winning the Worry Battle

  “Robin W. Pearson has done it again—she truly knows how to captivate her readers and have them eagerly turning each page, anticipating what is going to happen next. ’Til I Want No More is no exception. Maxine’s journey of love, longing, and finding her identity and worth is relatable to so many women, all of whom will be able to resonate with the many emotions of this bride-to-be as she seeks to find the joy and sense of belonging she’s been missing.”

  ANGELIA WHITE STONE, CEO and editor of Hope for Women magazine

  “Robin W. Pearson writes strong characters who wrap their arms around you and pull you into the family circle, a hubbub of loyalty, secrets, faith, and yes, forgiveness. Nobody’s perfect—but maybe that’s the best theme woven through this book.”

  BETH K. VOGT, award-winning author of the Thatcher Sisters series

  “Pour yourself a glass of sweet tea and sit back to enjoy this delightful new story from Robin W. Pearson. Once again her soulful Southern voice brings heart-tugging family relationships into the spotlight with realism and meaningful emotions.”

  CARRIE TURANSKY, award-winning author of No Ocean Too Wide and No Journey Too Far

  “Robin W. Pearson has given us another story that sinks deep into the heart of a family. Her Southern touch adds to the charm and authenticity of her characters, while causing the reader to root for their full restoration.”

  CHRISTINA SUZANN NELSON, award-winning author of More Than We Remember

  “Pearson’s excellent debut explores forgiveness and the burden of secrets. . . . Pearson’s saga is enjoyable and uncomfortable, but also funny and persistent in the way that only family can be.”

  PUBLISHERS WEEKLY, STARRED REVIEW

  “Pearson delivers a poignant debut that explores the faith of one African American family. . . . The writing is strong, and the story is engaging, and readers will be pleased to discover a new voice in Southern inspirational fiction.”

  BOOKLIST

  “Robin W. Pearson’s debut novel is a contemporary fiction masterpiece. . . . Set in North Carolina, readers will feel the heat, smell the food, and hear the bees buzzing in the background. . . . Pearson has created a story that makes you feel like you’re in the same room as the characters. Do not miss this one.”

  CHRISTIAN FICTION ADVISOR

  “Readers will cry, laugh, sigh wistfully, and even rage a little at this moving story. A Long Time Comin’ is a wonderful tale of love, family, secrets, relationships, and forgiveness that will teach us all how to live well in the midst of real life.”

  THE BANNER MAGAZINE

  “Robin W. Pearson delivers a fresh new voice for Southern fiction, treating readers to an inspiring journey through the complex matters of the heart.”

  JULIE CANTRELL, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author

  “My mouth watered at the mustard greens and ham hocks. Feels like home. You’ll fall in love with Evelyn and Granny B and a cast of memorable characters so rich you won’t want the story to end. We can only hope we’ll be reading more from Robin W. Pearson!”

  CHRIS FABRY, bestselling author of Under a Cloudless Sky and The Promise of Jesse Woods

  “With a deft hand and an unflinching eye, Pearson tackles the cobwebby corners of her characters’ lives and in doing so reveals truths that ultimately help us all to heal . . . even when we’ve convinced ourselves we don’t need to.”

  SARAH LOUDIN THOMAS, author of Miracle in a Dry Season

  “Robin W. Pearson’s authentic faith and abundant talent shine through in this wholehearted novel. Bee and Evelyn will stir your heart and stay with you long after the last page of A Long Time Comin’ is turned.”

  MARYBETH MAYHEW WHALEN, author of Only Ever Her

  “In A Long Time Comin’ Robin W. Pearson takes readers behind closed doors and into the heart of a family.”

  ANN H. GABHART, bestselling author of Angel Sister and The Refuge

  “Robin W. Pearson’s singular style and fully realized cast of characters ring proudly throughout this novel. Her masterful voice is a welcome addition to the genre of family sagas rooted in hope and faith.”

  LIZ JOHNSON, bestselling author of The Red Door Inn

  “The lyrical weaving of family narratives, past and present, is masterful—certainly to be compared with writers such as Sue Monk Kidd and Barbara Kingsolver. . . . Buy this book. It gripped me . . . from page one.”

  JANET HOLM MCHENRY, bestselling author of PrayerWalk

  “A Long Time Comin’ is a tender and sweet story of a cantankerous grandmother and her dear family members. . . . Her characters are charming, endearing, and flawed. I hope we have many years to come of reading Pearson’s work.”

  KATARA PATTON, author

  Visit Tyndale online at tyndale.com.

  Visit Robin W. Pearson’s website at robinwpearson.com.

  TYNDALE and Tyndale’s quill logo are registered trademarks of Tyndale House Ministries.

  ’Til I Want No More

  Copyright © 2021 by Robin W. Pearson. All rights reserved.

  Cover photograph of truck on road copyright © by Jake Olson/Trevillion Image. All rights reserved.

  Cover photograph of sky by Artiom Vallat on Unsplash.com.

  Designed by Eva M. Winters

  Edited by Caleb Sjogren

  Published in association with the literary agency of Books & Such Literary Management, 52 Mission Circle, Suite 122, PMB 170, Santa Rosa, CA 95409.

  All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the New King James Version®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

  Matthew 11:28-30 in chapter 11 is taken from the Holy Bible, King James Version.

  Proverbs 31:10 in chapter 32 is an amalgamation.

  ’Til I Want No More is a work of fiction. Where real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales appear, they are used fictitiously. All other elements of the novel are drawn from the author’s imagination.

  For information about special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Tyndale House Publishers at [email protected] or call 1-855-277-9400.

  ISBN 978-1-4964-5057-9 (HC)

  ISBN 978-1-4964-4157-7 (SC)

  Build: 2021-01-19 10:17:44 EPUB 3.0

  “But now, thus says the Lord, who created you, O Jacob,

  And He who formed you, O Israel:

  ‘Fear not, for I have redeemed you;

  I have called you by your name;

  You are Mine.’”

  ISAIAH 43:1

  To my daughters, whose worth is far above rubies,

  and my sons, who are mighty men of valor.

  Contents

  January Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  February Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  March Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  April Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

 
Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  May Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  June Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  July Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Preview of A Long Time Comin’

  A Note from the Author

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Discussion Questions

  January

  “If you don’t allow God to confront your past, your past one day is going to confront you. . . . Esau is comin’.”

  REVEREND LEE CLAYPOOLE

  Chapter One

  “YOU KNOW TROUBLE AIN’T CATCHIN’.” Ruby Tagle’s dark eyes flicked in her granddaughter’s direction. “Nobody’s gon’ sneeze and give it to you or your Theodore.”

  “Did you hear your grandmother, Maxine?” Vivienne Owens stood on her toes and stretched to retrieve a small jar from the kitchen cabinet. It skittered away to the far end of the shelf.

  “Yes, ma’am, I heard Mama Ruby, but I never said I thought trouble was contagious.” Maxine smiled a little as she hopped down from the stool. She reached up and set the glass container on the counter. At five-six, Maxine had her mother by three inches, by her estimation, the only way she outmatched her.

  “Yes, Vivienne, the girl never said she thought trouble was contagious.” Roy Tagle opened the pimientos with a pop! and handed them to his sister.

  Mother arched an eyebrow at her younger brother. “I don’t need none of y’all to tell me what she said. My ears are workin’ just fine. You see, I listen like a mama, not an uncle.” She spooned sweet peppers into the bowl in front of her. “Now, Maxine, you’ve been havin’ these crazy dreams for weeks now, ever since you set that appointment with Theodore’s pastor. You just need to sit down somewhere.”

  In other words, calm down.

  But Maxine couldn’t calm down. She’d met Theodore in September, right after he’d relocated from New Orleans to Mount Laurel. Only God’s hand could’ve directed him to that North Carolina crossroads of Eastern and Lexington-style barbecue. He proposed on a chilly December night at the end of a cooking class led by Manna, the Tagles’ catering company. As Ruby pulled out the mini chocolate soufflé with a joyful “Voilà!” that sounded more like deep South than South of France, Teddy had dropped to one knee, to no one’s shock but Maxine’s. He’d toasted her with a crystal flute filled with semisweet chocolate topped off with a one-carat diamond. Now, six weeks later, sporting her emerald-cut ring, she was in her mother’s kitchen, dizzy from her whirlwind romance and its effect on her life, a life it had taken her thirteen years to rebuild and only a yes to blast to smithereens. Again.

  “It’s not that simple, Mother. I can’t just tell my heart to obey and expect it to fall into line.”

  “But you can control that mind of yours. Think on the truth, and stop runnin’ around here like Chicken Little. The sky isn’t fallin’ on you just because your friends separated. What happened to them isn’t gonna happen to you and Theodore. Isn’t that right?” Vivienne looked to Mama Ruby as she stirred the potato salad, using one pink-gloved hand to hold on to the bowl.

  Ruby nodded.

  “I didn’t say it was, Mother.” To mask the shiver snaking through her, Maxine moved her shoulders to the gospel beat of the Jackson Southernaires, crooning from the Bluetooth speaker. She wished she could blame her chill on the clouds cloaking the pale-blue sky, but she knew it had nothing to do with the twenty-degree temperatures, unusual for North Carolina. The three women had been going back and forth for over an hour, since Maxine had shown up on her mother’s doorstep holding her box of silk chrysanthemums.

  “The thought breaks my heart, that Evelyn didn’t talk to me about what she was going through. I thought she was spending the summer helping her grandmother, not running away from her husband.”

  Mother’s spoon clanked against the side of the bowl. “Then I take it you’ve told her all about what you’re going through.”

  Maxine swallowed a lump in her throat that felt the size of Pilot Mountain and stepped a little closer to the flames flickering brightly in the fireplace behind her. She fiddled with the ribs of her gray corduroy skirt. “I’m only saying I can imagine what Evelyn went through. Pregnant, her heart in broken pieces. Trying to avoid the whispers, pointing fingers, the dissection of her problems, the gossip from church folk. Did you know she’s having a little girl?”

  Though they weren’t blood kin, Maxine and Evelyn Lester had considered each other family since middle school, after Evelyn had shown up at the Tagles’ farm looking to buy butter beans more than half their lifetimes ago. Thing was, Evelyn’s grandmother had dispatched her there with an empty bushel basket but without two nickels to rub together. Ruby simply pointed Evelyn to a spot on the porch beside her own granddaughter, and Maxine and Evelyn bonded as they shelled butter beans for the next few hours. Maxine already called herself “Auntie” to the baby Evelyn carried.

  Her mother frowned and shook her head, dislodging a strand from her silver-streaked bun. “Is that what this is about? Her baby girl?” She aimed a gloved finger at her daughter. “If so, you need to keep in mind that it didn’t have anything to do with you. Baby or no baby. Besides, her marriage is fine now. Just fine. What I’m asking myself is how you two can know so little about each other, considerin’ you’re best friends and all.”

  Vivienne returned her attention to the bowl, but Maxine figured her mother’s murmuring had little to do with the potato salad.

  The chair creaked as Mama Ruby propped an ample hip on the stool Maxine had abandoned. “Goodness gracious, Maxine Amelia, you don’t know your end from your beginnin’. You ain’t even married yet. You might not think trouble is catchin’, but you’re already signin’ yourself up for divorce care and your weddin’ is months away.” Her grandma pointed to the wireless speaker. “And, Roy, turn down that music. Cain’t even hear my own thoughts let alone help this child here with hers.”

  Uncle Roy obeyed.

  Mother scooped out a teaspoonful of the creamy mixture and turned to Maxine. “Here, taste this for me. What does it need?”

  “Mmm. Nothing.”

  Her mother nodded in response and sprinkled kosher salt over the bowl and swirled it around with her mixing spoon. She used a fresh spoon to offer Uncle Roy a sample. When he nodded, Mother finished off the potato salad with paprika and covered the sixteen-inch melamine bowl with plastic wrap.

  Maxine pursed her lips and stifled a sigh, wondering why her mother made such a show of asking her opinion. “Like I said, it’s just sad. For them, not me. I’m too nervous about starting a marriage to fret over ending one.”

  “That’s because you have some sense. Getting married is nothing to sniff at.” Uncle Roy squeezed Maxine’s shoulder. “Viv, I’ll take that to the pantry fridge and start moving the rest to the truck.” He hefted the pumpkin-colored dish to shoulder level and left the room.

  Mama Ruby wrapped an arm around Maxine. “First things first, don’t listen to your uncle. He hasn’t met the right woman yet who makes him want to set another place at the table. And next, don’t let your mind play tricks on you, awake or asleep. Their problems are not your problems. Stop thinkin’ of this pastor as a one-man judge and jury. From what I hear, Atwater is good people.”

  Her grandma was squishy in all the right places. Accepting the comfort of her embrace and her words, Maxine planted a quick kiss between the wrinkles on her velvety cheek. Then she opened the long, rectangular box on the quartz countertop and lifted out one flower after another, setting the counter ablaze with purple, cranberry, and orange bloo
ms.

  But she didn’t miss Mother rolling her eyes heavenward.

  Mama Ruby must not have missed it either, for she chuckled and pointed at her daughter. “Amen, Vivienne! This child here needs to look to the hills and trust God’s authority and care, not just her husband’s—” she spared Maxine a side eye—“that is, her future husband. Trusting Him has kept me and Lerenzo married. And it keeps Manna in business.”

  That’s easy to say when y’all run your catering business while holding hands. I’m just trying to keep a fiancé. Maxine snipped the stems and leaves and arranged the artificial flowers in the olive cut-glass vase. “All I know is, these seven sessions with the pastor are going to feel like a long, drawn-out game of Truth or Consequences.”

  Mother huffed as she scrubbed her work space. “Maxine, you can’t be nobody but yourself. Everybody else is taken. Focus on your Theodore and the life you’re planning with him. Guilt is the rust on the sword, let me tell you. It’s been thirteen years, and you need to be done with all this.”

  Done with all this. Really Maxine didn’t think she’d ever be done with “this,” the burden she’d been toting around half her life. It had grown heavier since adding the weight of her engagement ring. Sunlight danced through the picture window overlooking the backyard, and she tilted her face toward it, hoping the warmth would seep through her skin and fill the cracks only she knew existed. But still, her finger shook as she twirled a cinnamon ringlet and looped it around an earlobe. Thirteen years had passed, but it felt like yesterday.

  “I don’t know what you’re tuckin’ in your heart’s back pocket, but I should tell you John and I talked about it.” Mother squinted at Maxine before she shrugged as if giving up. She strode from the sun-splashed kitchen, throwing over her shoulder, “I know you’re thirty years old, and you don’t need his permission, but you have your daddy’s blessing, whatever you decide, whenever you decide.”