by E. N. Joy
“Just pray about it, Pastor,” Mother Doreen said to avoid either confirming or rejecting Pastor’s reasoning for her wanting to reinstate the Singles’ Ministry.
“I always do,” Pastor smiled. “And while I’m doing that, you pray on it as well. When God does decide to bring the Singles’ Ministry back into operation, what are some changes that can be made that will allow the ministry to be more effective? And what can be done in order to get members to not only join, but to take the ministry seriously?”
Mother Doreen nodded. “Yes, Pastor. I’ll certainly begin seeking God.”
“Good,” Pastor said, scooting away from the table and standing. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to head over to the church.”
“All right, Pastor. You have a blessed day.”
“You too. And Mother Doreen, while we’re roomies, you can call me Margie; Pastor Margie at least.” Pastor got all giddy, rubbing her hands together. “Makes me feel like I’m back in my college dorm days with my girlfriends.” Then a serious look crossed Margie’s face. “But then again, when I think back to who I was in my past, I’m not too sure I want to go back there, if you know what I mean.” Margie winked at Mother Doreen, and then walked away.
“I know exactly what you mean, Pastor—Pastor Margie,” Doreen said to herself. “There are some places and times I don’t want to go back to either.” And Mother Doreen meant that, which is why she had to get out of Kentucky. The last thing she needed right now was for her past to catch up with her.
Chapter Four
They’d questioned her. They’d poked and prodded at her. Now Paige was completely jaded of the entire ordeal and just wanted to go home. She wanted to go home, or what she once knew as home anyway. But after what Blake had done to her, she knew that was no longer an option in her life—ever.
“What is Pastor going to say? What are people going to say?” Paige worried out loud as she sat on the hospital examination table dressed in hospital scrubs. The police had collected, with Paige’s permission, the clothing she’d worn to the hospital. It had evidence of her assault. The police felt that any forensics the clothing might contain might make her case stronger.
“Case?” Paige had questioned.
“Yes, Mrs. Dickenson. The—”
“Can you just call me Paige?” she had requested. She didn’t want any part of that man right now, not even his last name. Ultimately, the Word said she’d have to forgive Blake for what he’d done to her, but it didn’t say anything about her having to remain connected to him. She wanted to be disconnected. And that went for her body, her mind, and her spirit, and soon enough, her last name.
“Sure,” the officer agreed. “Paige, the state prosecutor is going to need you to help make a case. From what you’ve told us, you are the only witness to the crime against you. Therefore, you are the state’s only witness,” the officer explained. “Do you understand that?”
Paige nodded. She understood. She’d watched Law and Order SVU enough times to know the legality of it all. She just never thought her true life story would ever make for an episode itself. But would it have been a believable episode? Paige could hardly believe herself that this had happened to her. When she’d parted her lips to say the words, “My husband raped me,” it didn’t sound real. Was that even possible? Did women really get raped by their spouses? In the real world, not on television, was it really considered rape if a man took from his wife what she hadn’t been willing to give? Sooner or later, Paige was about to get the answer to all of her questions. But could she deal with the answers was what worried her most. Thank God she had her best friend by her side to help her through it all.
“Thanks for being here for me,” Paige said to Tamarra, who sat in a chair next to the examination table.
“Oh, Paige, you don’t have to thank me.” Tamarra stood. “Best friends are for something more than just holding the toilet seat up while you puke your guts out after a night of partying together,” she joked in an attempt to lighten the mood a bit.
“So I hear,” Paige played along. “Although it sounds like you speak from experience.”
Tamarra chuckled. “Well, yeah, but that’s a whole ’notha story.” She reminisced back to her rebellion stage as a young girl. It had been her way of acting out after being raped by her brother and giving birth to his baby. “Anyway, please know that I’m here for you through thick and thin.”
Paige nodded and tried to smile. Her facial muscles must not have been ready to smile because they immediately transformed into a sad frown, then the tears came ... again. She hadn’t realized that a person could cry so much.
“It’s okay,” Tamarra comforted Paige with a loving embrace as she rubbed her hand up and down her back. Tamarra didn’t try to stop the waterworks, but once her friend settled down, she asked the million-dollar question. “Paige, can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” Paige sniffed.
“Why? Why didn’t you tell me that Blake was abusing you?” Tamarra continued rubbing Paige’s back. “I mean, I was in disbelief listening to you tell those officers the history of abuse you’ve been enduring at the hands of your husband. And not only the physical abuse, but the verbal insults as well.” Tamarra shook her head in wonderment. “I just feel like I failed you; like I wasn’t the best friend I claimed to be. Why else would you have felt like you couldn’t come to me? I could have helped you. I could have done something... anything.”
“Oh no, you don’t,” Paige stopped her friend. “I’m not blaming myself for what Blake decided to do to me. I’m most certainly not going to sit here and let you try to blame yourself either.” This was the most strength Paige had shown since pulling her car up in front of Tamarra’s house at the wee hours in the morning. “If I’ve learned one thing from talking to Sister Nita, it’s that the woman, or the man in rare cases, should not blame herself for what his or her abuser does to them.”
Tamarra stopped rubbing Paige’s back. “Sister Nita? You talked to Sister Nita?”
Paige could hear the disappointment in Tamarra’s voice. She’d just voiced to Paige how she felt like an inadequate friend because Paige felt she couldn’t come to her and talk to her about the abuse. Now, here Paige was telling her she’d talked about it to a church acquaintance. Tamarra had barely seen Paige say two words to Nita back when she attended New Day. What was up with that?
Deciding that right now was neither the time nor the place to get offended, Tamarra said, “Well, I’m just glad you were able to talk to somebody. Unless there is somebody else who can back up your claim of abuse—” Tamarra had a sudden thought. “You know, you might want to mention that to the officer; that you shared your abuse at the hands of Blake with Sister Nita.”
“You’re right,” Paige noted.
And as if on cue, there was a rap at the door. A few seconds later, the door cracked open and the attending ER doctor who had examined Paige and done a rape kit on her peeked her head through the door.
“Is it okay to come in?” the doctor asked.
“Sure,” Paige answered.
The doctor entered, followed by the officer who had questioned Paige earlier.
“Well, we think we have everything we need from you,” the doctor told Paige. “Is there anything you need from us?”
“I’m fine for now,” Paige replied.
“And you have someone you can stay with for a while, at least until we can issue a warrant?” the officer jumped in to confirm.
“Yes, she’s going to stay with me,” Tamarra interjected.
“Good.” The doctor handed Paige several pamphlets. “Here is some literature that might help you deal with what you’ve experienced. There’re even some counseling referrals. But what I want you to keep in mind, Paige, is that you are a survivor, not a victim.”
The doctor’s warm smile was a comfort to Paige. “Just so you know, your husband will be arrested. He is probably going to be charged with assault, domestic abuse, and rape. But that’s for the
courts to decide,” the officer told her. He reached down into his shirt pocket and pulled out a card, then extended his hand to Paige. “This is my card. If you have any questions or if you can think of anything else—”
“As a matter of fact,” Paige interrupted, “there is something else.” She went on to tell the officer how her church could vouch for the abuse Blake had been inflicting on her. She told the officer how her pastor had even referred them to a domestic abuse counselor. The officer took notes and told Paige how helpful all of that information would be in coming out victorious in her case.
“Thank you, Doctor, and Officer,” Tamarra offered, “for taking care of my friend.”
“It was our pleasure,” the doctor smiled.
“And our duty,” the officer added before tipping his hat and exiting the room.
As Tamarra helped Paige off the table and the two prepared to leave, the doctor said, “Paige, there is just one other thing I wanted to discuss with you, and that’s this little pill right here.” The doctor held out a little plastic cup with a pill in it. “Some people might refer to this as ‘The Morning-After Pill.’ It’s—”
“I know exactly what it is,” Paige cut her off, “and I’ll pass.” Paige’s tone was stern.
“Wait a minute, Paige,” Tamarra said. “Don’t you even want to think about—”
“Did you think about it, Tamarra?” Paige snapped before she realized the question she had posed to Tamarra. She knew Tamarra had been raped by her own blood brother and had gotten pregnant as a result. Tamarra had been so young, though, and Paige didn’t know whether Tamarra had considered ending the pregnancy. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up Raygene like that,” Paige apologized, but it was too late for her to take the words back.
“No, it’s okay,” Tamarra told her sincerely. Tamarra was healed and delivered from the fact that she’d been raped by her brother and had gotten pregnant with her now-deceased daughter, Raygene, as a result.
“It’s not okay,” Paige stated. “But I am truly sorry. I know this isn’t about you. It’s about me.” Paige turned to face the doctor. “And that pill is not for me.”
The doctor nodded. “Okay, then, well, unless there is anything else I can do ...”
“There’s nothing else you can do, Doctor,” Paige informed the physician as she and Tamarra walked toward the door. “The rest I have to do myself.” And Paige knew that part of what she had to do was figure out how life would go on after divorce, because there was no way she was staying married to Blake.
Chapter Five
“She’s carrying whose baby?” Eleanor shouted. Her loud screech ripped through the Family Café, causing every head to turn in her direction.
“Mom,” Lorain gritted through both her teeth, embarrassed. “Can you hold it down?” Lorain self-consciously ran her fingers through her short, edgy-cut hair. The golden-honey highlights appeared to match her nail polish.
“No, I can’t!” Eleanor confirmed. “If you were going to share news like that with me, then you shouldn’t have brought me in this itty-bitty ole public place. You should have taken me somewhere where I’d have plenty of room for my voice to travel; some place like the Grand Canyon.”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” Lorain said as she quickly fumbled through her purse. She guesstimated the cost of her and her mother’s meal. After all, she’d eaten at the town’s local restaurant enough times to pretty much know the menu prices by heart. She pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and several ones. That was enough to cover both the meals and have a little somethin’ somethin’ left over as a tip for their waitress, Zelda.
“Come on, let’s go,” Lorain ordered as she placed the money in the center of the table. She stood up, and then practically pulled Eleanor up with her and out the door. But Eleanor continued her rant all the way to the parking lot.
“Hey, I didn’t finish my coffee,” she complained. “Don’t be mad at me because you’ve decided to use the ghetto girl from the sit-com Girlfriends to serve as a surrogate and have your baby.”
“Which one? All the girls on Girlfriends are ghetto,” Lorain spat.
“Why can’t you find a man like God intended and have your own baby?”
Lorain knew that lying to her mother, lying to the world, was the wrong thing to do. But perhaps she should have reconsidered exactly what lie she was going to tell. Was letting the world believe that Unique had agreed to carry a child for Lorain via in vitro fertilization too over the top? Did black people even do that kind of stuff? Lorain now wondered. But then she realized that a whole lot went on in the African American community that its own members didn’t even know about... or want to face.
Anyway, right now, all she knew was that she couldn’t tell her mother that Unique had backslid, gotten drunk, and then gotten pregnant yet again by a man who wasn’t thinking about marrying her. She couldn’t tell anybody; Unique had made her promise not to. True enough, Unique was the natural and biological mother of the child. The father, at least, wasn’t some stranger she decided to go home with one night. He was already the father of one of her other children, the oldest child. But none of that was going to stop people from talking—from condemning and convicting Unique.
As Unique’s biological mother, Lorain wanted to be there for her daughter and help her any way she could. She couldn’t change the past. She couldn’t change the fact that she’d left Unique, a newborn baby, in a trash can to die, never going back to reclaim her. Had she, then she would have learned that all these years, the child she thought was dead was very much alive. And even though she couldn’t change what happened, she could try to make up for it. Lorain couldn’t think of a more perfect way to make up for it than to raise Unique’s baby as if the child were her own. Not only would this gesture divert some of the negative talk from Unique’s direction, but it also would allow Lorain a second chance at motherhood.
Sure, people would reason that Lorain was still young; in her mid thirties, as a matter of fact. God would provide her plenty of opportunities to be found by a husband and bear a child of her own flesh and blood. But this child, the one Unique was carrying, the one Unique would hand over to her after giving birth, was Lorain’s flesh and blood, only no else knew it. Right now, outside of the restaurant, Eleanor was having a fit—so much so that Lorain didn’t know whether it would make a difference if her mother knew the entire truth.
“Now can you just quiet down and listen?” Lorain asked her mother.
“Humph,” Eleanor moaned, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. “I’m listening.”
“Mom, just try to understand where I’m coming from on this one,” Lorain pleaded.
“Oh, daughter of mine, I may not know where you’re coming from, but if you and that girl see this thing out, I know exactly where you might end up—the both of yous.”
Lorain closed her eyes, counted to three, and then threw her hands up. They fell down to her side like weighted down sandbags. “Forget it. I knew you wouldn’t understand. That’s why there are some things I choose not to tell you. This should have been one of them.” Lorain walked away from her mother and over to the driver’s side.
“Just a minute, young lady. Are you referencing the fact that you didn’t come to me and tell me that Broady had been molesting you? Is that what you’re trying to insinuate here?” Eleanor’s voice cracked, and she was on the verge of tears.
Lorain knew that was a low blow she’d just thrown at her mother. “No, Mom, that’s not what I was trying to say.” Another lie. That’s exactly what she had been trying to say. “I was just speaking in general.” Liar, liar, pants on fire.
There was silence as Lorain stood at the driver-side door and Eleanor stood at the passenger-side door of Lorain’s car. “Let’s just talk about this later, okay?” Lorain said.
“From the sounds of it, there’s really nothing left to talk about. Sounds like you’ve made your mind up.”
“You’re right. I have. But you’re my mother. You’re
my best friend. I’d like to talk about it with you. I’d like you to be there for me. After all, you’re going to be a grandmother,” Lorain smiled. Little did Eleanor know, she was already a grandmother; a great-grandmother as well.
Eleanor couldn’t fight the smile that forced her lips to part. “Okay, we’ll talk. I’ll try my best to understand some of the mess you young folks scheme up.” Eleanor pointed a stern finger at her daughter before the doors unlocked and they got into the car. “But I’m not making any promises,” she warned.
“Thanks, Mom,” Lorain said as she put the key in the ignition and started up the car. She’d gotten over the first bridge barely unscathed, but there were many more to come.
Living out this lie was not going to be easy, of that Lorain was sure. She knew if she focused and put her mind to it, that it could be done. She could live this lie the same way she’d lived many others in the past. She only hoped this time God would give her a pass because at least this lie was helping out someone besides herself. Still, even if she could manage to pull this thing off, just how long she could do it was yet to be determined.
Chapter Six
“Let me make sure I understand what you’re trying to say,” Margie said to Mother Doreen, who was sitting in a chair on the opposite side of her desk. “You not only want to start up the Singles’ Ministry again and take on the role of being the leader of the ministry, but you want me to join as well?” Margie tried not to look at Mother Doreen as if she had two heads, but that was no easy feat, considering what else Mother Doreen had posed as well. “And not only do you want me to join the ministry, but you want me to serve as the co-leader?”
Mother Doreen nodded with excitement as she awaited her pastor’s reply. Only the reply wasn’t anything near what she was expecting as Margie burst out laughing.
“Oh my goodness, please do forgive me, Mother Doreen,” Margie apologized while still laughing. “But are you serious?”
