I Can Do Better All By Myself

by E. N. Joy

  “I thought that was God’s punishment for what I’d done. And I gladly accepted anything the good Lord felt I was deserving. Only thing is, I was never able to give Willie a baby of his own, and I’d killed the one he’d had.”

  “Oh, Doreen, I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry for me, child. Be sorry for that woman who had to bury her baby. Be sorry for the baby and my Willie. Because even though he had no business knocking that girl up, it was still his baby. He didn’t deserve that. None of them did.” Mother Doreen looked up and smiled. “But Willie didn’t turn his back on me. No, he visited me, wrote me, put money on my books, and was there to pick me up the day I got out of jail as if nothing had ever happened. Everything went right back to normal. Even his running around on me. But I felt indebted to him. So instead of beating both his behind and those women’s, I prayed for ’em.”

  “Doreen, that’s a miserable way to exist. You didn’t deserve to have to deal with that. He was your husband regardless,” Bethany reasoned. “He didn’t deserve a green card to go sleep around with whomever.”

  “I know. That was some stinking thinking on my part. But hey, it’s done now. It’s in the past, and I gotta let it go, Beth. I gotta let it go.” Mother Doreen sniffled. “That’s one of the reasons why I ran from here quick, fast, and in a hurry once I saw where things between Wallace and I were headed. I couldn’t ruin his future with my past. I didn’t want to have to tell him about it, and I sure didn’t want him having to hear it from someone else. But surely with all that Internet business going on, someone would have found out. I didn’t want to chance that.” Mother Doreen, for the first time in a while, smiled at her sister.

  “He came to Malvonia looking for me. He said he wanted to marry me, Beth. God actually wants to give me another chance, even as old and as gray as I am,” Mother Doreen laughed.

  “So are you going to tell him?” Bethany asked. “Are you going to allow God to give you that second chance?”

  “I did. Last night. I actually went to Pastor Frey’s place before coming here.”

  “And what did he say after you told him about your past? Does he still want to marry you?”

  “I don’t know. He didn’t say one way or the other, and I didn’t want to put any pressure on him by asking. I know I at least need to give the man some time to think about it, you know?”

  “But if God told him that you are to be his wife, then what’s to think about?”

  “Child, you know like I know that just because God tells us to do something doesn’t mean we always do it. God’s children are just like any other child; hardheaded as all get out. Anyway, just releasing that information has removed some chains from my life. And I’m not going to sit around worrying about whether other folks operate in obedience. All I know is that I want to be his wife. I just hope he still wants to be my husband. Right now, I’m going to hop on the road and return to Malvonia. I got some things I need to take care of there as well.”

  “You know you’re welcome to stay,” Bethany told her.

  “Yes, I know, but—”

  The ring of the doorbell interrupted Mother Doreen midsentence.

  “I’ll get it,” Bethany said, walking to the living room. Mother Doreen followed behind her. Approaching the door, Bethany looked out to see who it was. She then looked over her shoulder at Mother Doreen while opening the door. “Pastor Frey, it’s good to see you,” Bethany said, letting him in.

  Immediately spotting Mother Doreen, he rushed over to her. “I’m so glad you’re still here. I was hoping I didn’t have to drive all the way back to Malvonia.” He sounded out of breath.

  “Pastor Frey, are you okay? Can I get you some water?” Bethany asked.

  “Sure, that would be nice,” he accepted her offer, and then continued speaking to Mother Doreen. “Doreen, back when I came to Malvonia, I meant what I said, that I was there to claim my wife.”

  “Then why did you leave?” Mother Doreen had been wanting to know the answer to that question.

  “I could see that I was causing confusion between you and your pastor, so I figured the timing wasn’t right. Not that my being there, coming to tell you what was on my heart, wasn’t right, but just the timing. Besides, you didn’t even want to spend dinner time with me, let alone the rest of your life. Then when I got back here, my cousin made a surprise visit and ... well... but I was coming back for you. But before I could, you ended up on my doorstep.” He paused, then spoke. “I wasn’t prepared for yesterday, Doreen.”

  “I know,” Mother Doreen told him. “Nothing could have prepared you or any other man for what I shared with you yesterday. And I don’t blame you if you have a change of heart.”

  “Woman, I don’t have no change of heart. You sharing that with me made me want to be with you even more. Do you know what it made me feel like to know that the woman I’m in love with don’t mind sharing every bit of her soul with me? That she trusts me enough to tell me the things she doesn’t even want to. Please, woman. When I said I wasn’t ready, it was because I didn’t have this yet.” Pastor Frey pulled out a small white velvet jewelry box. “But now I do.” Getting down on one knee, Pastor Frey said, “Doreen Nelly Mae Tucker, would you do me the honor of becoming Mrs. Doreen Nelly Mae Frey?”

  “Wallace, my love, nothing would honor me more. Yes, I will,” Mother Doreen smiled.

  Pastor Frey removed the diamond ring from the box and slipped it on Mother Doreen’s finger.

  Just then Bethany walked in. “Pastor Frey, would you like some ...” Her words trailed off when she saw Pastor Frey down on one knee slipping a ring on her sister’s finger. “I was gonna ask you if you’d like some ice, but I already see there’s plenty of ice up in here,” she said, referring to the bling-bling Mother Doreen was now wearing. “What’s going on in here? Did what I think just happens really happens?”

  Staring into Pastor Frey’s eyes, Mother Doreen replied, “Yes, yes, it did.” She looked at her sister. “I’m getting married. I’m going to be Mrs. Wallace Frey.” Next, Mother Doreen looked up and whispered to God, “Now is it finished?” And before she kissed her husband-to-be on the lips, she could have sworn she heard a small still voice whisper, “Not yet.”

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Paige lay across her bed as if she were making snow angels in her mattress. It was like a dream. Lying across her bed in her house naked. Naked, both physically and spiritually. She felt like a newborn. She felt reborn. This was a new life. A fresh life.

  She sat up in the bed and looked at herself in the mirror. Ordinarily, she might have thought she was only a shell of who she used to be, she’d lost so much weight. She didn’t know how much she was going to like being a size borderline twelve-fourteen. When she was bigger, she was tight and toned. Now she felt flabby. But that was because she hadn’t been doing any of her walking. All she needed to do was tone up. She knew she was having to use the holes further back on her belt in order to keep her pants up, but she had no idea she hadn’t been taking care of herself to the point that she’d lost that much weight.

  “Thank you for keeping my health, Lord. Thank you,” she said out loud. She stared at herself in the mirror a few more moments, and then fell back on the bed.

  “Ahhhhhhhhhhh,” she squealed, still beside herself. “Lord have mercy; should I feel this good?” she asked.

  Should she? After all, her husband just got locked up. Prosecution assured her that this time he wouldn’t be getting out on bail either. As a matter of fact, she was told that more than likely, he wouldn’t be a free man again for a couple of years at least. Ironically enough, it wasn’t Paige’s testimony or anything that sealed the deal. She didn’t have to testify at all.

  There’s a saying that actions speak louder than words. Well, this time, just like the time that landed Blake in court anyway, his actions landed him behind bars for good.

  Paige too was shocked when Norman showed up in the courtroom to support her. Shocked wasn’t the word fo
r how Blake felt, especially since the prosecutor had just mentioned the scene that took place at Paige’s job. That, and the fact that Blake was still under the impression that Norman and Paige had been having an affair really set Blake off.

  Dressed in the suit Blake had worn to take a picture on that National magazine cover, he looked like the perfect gentleman. He spoke like the eloquent, well educated man that he was.

  “Your Honor, this ...” and “Your Honor that ...” Blake had been explaining as he stood before the judge to enter his plea. In doing so, he turned to gesture at Paige to tell the judge how much he loved his wife, how he would never hurt her, how this all had just been a simple misunderstanding. That’s when he saw Norman squeezing beside her. The next words out of his mouth weren’t quite so eloquent.

  Before even the bailiff saw it coming, Blake had leaped from where he stood to reach Norman and Paige. “You whore!” he screamed as he clawed at Paige, who was desperately trying to get out of his reach. “How are you going to bring the man you’ve been sleeping with in here? You deserve everything I’ve done to you, and when I get out of here, you’re really going to get it. I’m going to kill both you and him.”

  By now, the bailiff and everyone else was trying to either rescue Paige and Norman or pull Blake off of them. All Blake felt was people tugging on him, and, in turn, he started swinging. One of his punches nearly took the bailiff out, so, of course, the bailiff was forced to pull out his gun. Just as Blake raised his fist to land a blow on Paige that probably would have knocked her lights out, there was cold steel at his temple and a clicking sound. Being the smart, college-educated man that he was, Blake assumed the correct position by raising his hands.

  “I’m sorry,” he immediately began apologizing.

  Just who he was apologizing to, no one was sure, but it didn’t matter. His words automatically fell on deaf ears. Blake had just pounded the nail in his own coffin. He’d just sealed his own fate. So any guilt Paige might have had had Blake been sent to prison on her testimony and what he’d done to her alone was no longer an issue. It should have never been an issue. Just as what he’d done in that courtroom yesterday was not her fault, the things he’d done to her during their marriage were not her fault.

  As Paige lay there in bed, there were still some issues she had to deal with. Although he wouldn’t be a part of her life for the next couple of years, unless Paige officially and legally did something about it, Blake would still be her husband. Is that what she wanted? Is that what God wanted for her? Should she stay with Blake just in case he actually did get rehabilitated in prison? Just in case he did get healed and delivered?

  She’d heard that no rehabilitation ever really took place in a prison, so could Blake get the help he needed while there? Could he come out a different man? A changed man? A better man? Sure, he could. But would he? Did he want to?

  God performed miracles every day. He healed the sick. He put life in barren wombs. He made the paralyzed walk. He delivered men and women from homosexuality. He restored relationships. There was no reason why, with all the counseling and praying, God could not restore Blake.

  Paige sat up and leaned over toward her nightstand. She pulled out a book that Nita had given her. It was titled Abuse and Religion: When Praying Isn’t Enough, by Ann L. Horton and Judith A. Williamson, eds. She opened up the book with the intent of just flipping through it to get the gist of it. Before she knew it, she was halfway through with it.

  Feeling a little weak and tired, Paige decided to slip on some clothes and go put something in her stomach. She went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. It was filled with all of her favorite foods that she and Blake had been eating since she’d changed her diet.

  “Wow,” she mumbled under her breath. “He really thought I was going to come back to him.” That’s the only reason Paige could figure out why he’d made sure that everything she needed was there. He’d been convinced that he could kiss it and make it better, just like old times.

  Paige made herself a turkey sandwich and got some light potato chips. Biting into the sandwich, she found it to be pretty tasty. She hadn’t eaten a good full meal in so long, though, that what she really wanted to do was to drive over to the Golden Corral Buffet and eat everything in sight. Just the thought of that place brought back memories; memories of her and Tamarra. Instantly, she lost her appetite and pushed her plate away.

  She sat at the table staring down at it before, out of nowhere, she just began to weep. “God, I’m so mad right now I don’t know what to do. I mean, yes, I’m happy, I’m grateful for how you brought me out of my abusive situation with Blake. I’m thankful for how you showed up, protected, and fought for me in the courtroom. But I’m mad as you know what that I can’t go talk to my best friend right now. Because I don’t have one anymore. I’m mad that I’m mad; that somebody else’s actions have me feeling this way. Stealing my joy.”

  Paige began to bang her fist on the table. “I want my joy back. All of it, God. I don’t want to be spoon-fed little bits and pieces. I want it all back!” she proclaimed.

  “Then go take it back.” That came out of Paige’s mouth. A voice she had no control over rose up out of her throat and spoke the words again. “Go take it back.” And again. “Go get your joy back.” And again. “Man did not give it, man can not take it. Go get it back!”

  Paige didn’t have to tell herself twice. Well, actually she had to tell herself four times, but who’s counting? She grabbed her purse and her car keys, then left the house. She was going to get back her joy.

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  When Mother Doreen arrived back at Malvonia that afternoon, she was on a high like never before. “Ohh, I wish I had a convertible,” she said as she drove into the small city. Instead, she just had to opt for having every window in her car rolled down while the wind put on a wrestling match in her car.

  At first she was going to go check back into the hotel. Tomorrow was her scheduled walk-through because her tenant would be moving out and she would be moving back into her home. She and Pastor Frey hadn’t yet talked about what their living arrangements would be, but most likely, she’d be moving back to Kentucky. She would have to move wherever his ministry took them. She figured she had chased Willie around most of her life while he served the devil, so she would have no complaints going wherever her future husband’s ministry would lead them.

  Instead of going to the hotel, however, she decided to stop by the church first to see if the pastor was there. When Mother Doreen pulled up, she saw a couple of familiar cars; Pastor’s was one of them, so she knew she’d be inside. For a second, Mother Doreen thought that perhaps Pastor was in the middle of a counseling session, but there were way too many cars for that. And most meetings at the church took place in the evening. It was only two o’clock in the afternoon, so something else had to be up. As Mother Doreen parked her car and went inside, she immediately sensed that whatever was up was no good.

  She followed the loud, angry voices to her pastor’s office. When she entered the office, she saw her pastor, Paige, and a couple of members from the board. She was disturbed to see the pastor sitting in her chair with her hands on her forehead, massaging a migraine, and the others talking over each other.

  “Peace, be still,” Mother Doreen’s voice boomed. “In the name of Jesus, peace, be still.” Every eye in the room turned to her. “I could hear you all out there in the parking lot. What in God’s name is going on?” Everyone remained silent. “Oh, so now nobody wants to talk?”

  “I will,” Paige offered. “Something that happened yesterday at court bothered me. I mean, besides the fact that my husband tried to kill me.”

  “By the way,” Mother Doreen interrupted, “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there, but I hope everything turned out in your favor.”

  “It did, Mother Doreen, and thank you,” Paige said. “But something was said by one of the church members. It was something that hadn’t been shared with anyone besides Pastor ... a
t least to my knowledge.” Paige figured that when Tamarra went to visit her pastor to find out where she was staying, she’d shared the details about her and Blake. But Paige knew beyond a doubt that Tamarra would not have shared that information with anyone else at New Day. Yet, others seemed to know. Others seemed to know a lot of information that was supposedly only being shared with the New Day pastor.

  “And that’s been happening a lot lately,” one of the board members said. “We even lost a member last week—their entire family. They felt as if they couldn’t worship in a church where things weren’t sacred.”

  “Basically, what they are saying is that,” Margie stood up, “they can’t serve under a pastor who runs her mouth.” Margie looked at everybody in the room. “But I promise by the God I serve,” she lifted her right hand, “anything a member has shared with me in counseling, in prayer, or just because, has never left my lips except for when I lift it up in prayer for God’s ears only.”

  “I hear you, Pastor, we all hear you,” Sister Perrin said, “but that can’t be the truth.”

  “You’re calling our pastor a liar?” someone said, and then all the voices started talking over each other again.

  “Jesus!” Mother Doreen shouted, which brought silence back to the room. “I can’t even believe what I’m hearing in this room, let alone what I’m seeing. Now I know that for a minute there, I too was a little upset when I felt as if something I’d confided to the pastor was shared. Most of you all were there.” Mother Doreen pointed to the board members. “I practically threatened to leave the church. But I know my pastor. I’ve known her for years. I’ve also been at this church many years, and it ain’t nothing new for someone to walk into the ladies’ room and hear a little bit of gossiping and backbiting going on. So instead of pointing our finger at Pastor, we should be pointing it at ourselves. If we weren’t the ones doing the talking, we’ve certainly been the ones doing the listening a time or two.”