Tess was drawn from her thoughts when she saw Bernadette and Coop being ushered in to take two of the last seats available at the end of the row behind her and Maceo. She looked at her phone and noted the ceremony was supposed to start in five minutes. Tess thought it was strange that Bernadette was arriving so late because when she’d spoken to her cousin an hour ago, she and Coop had already been on their way to the church. Tess looked down at her phone when she heard it buzz and saw a text message come in from Bernadette.
Bernadette: Arizona texted me this morning and said she’s scared!
Tess stared at the message and then looked back at Bernadette, only to see nervous worry on her cousin’s face.
Tess: Is she going to go through with it??
Bernadette: I don’t know. I texted her back but she hasn’t responded.
Tess: This is a mess!
Bernadette: Yes . . . a BIG MESS!
BERNADETTE
Bernadette’s nerves were frayed, and between her own worries and now a possible runaway bride, all she wanted to do was go home and crawl into bed. The truth about Coop’s past had been weighing heavily on her mind. After discovering the circumstantial evidence that could implicate Coop in Morris Fleming’s death, Bernadette went against her gut and logic and had tried to convince herself that Coop couldn’t have killed Morris. But if she was completely honest, she would admit that she was fooling herself.
Bernadette’s curiosity had led her to do some investigating on her own, and what she’d discovered had left her disappointed. One of the reasons why the authorities hadn’t bothered to fully investigate the case and had let it go cold was because Coop and the “big boss” he worked for in Raleigh had the Bourbon Police Department on their payroll as part of their monthly expenses, and the money the police got every month made them turn a blind eye to crime, especially if it involved a black man killing another black man. Coop’s connection to the local authorities explained why he had police reports and even a weapon in his possession.
But even with the heavy weight of worrying that she was in love with a man who might have taken someone’s life, the fact that at the ripe age of fifty she was six weeks pregnant made Bernadette’s palms sweat, her head hurt, and her mouth dry.
Two weeks ago, what she’d thought had been the early signs of menopause were actually the beginning symptoms of her pregnancy. It had been time for her yearly physical exam and pap smear, so she’d scheduled an appointment with Dr. Vu, the new OB-GYN that Arizona had referred her to. She’d been sitting on the exam table, still dressed in the flimsy blue paper gown, when Dr. Vu came in with a big smile.
“I know most people want sleeping pills,” Bernadette had said. “But I need something that will keep me awake because I can barely make it through the day without a nap.”
Dr. Vu nodded. “In your condition, the best thing for you is plenty of fresh fruit, vegetables, lean meats, herbs, and a regimented sleep schedule because, Ms. Gibson, you’re pregnant.”
Bernadette laughed out loud. “You’re funny! Now seriously, Dr. Vu, what can you give me? I’ve heard that B12 shots are good for increasing energy, so if you can, please give me one that might help me stay awake.”
“Ms. Gibson, I’m not joking,” Dr. Vu said in a gentle voice. “The standard pregnancy test that we gave you came back positive, and based on the date of your last period, I estimate you’re about six weeks.”
Bernadette had laughed when Dr. Vu had insisted upon her taking a pregnancy test after she’d told him that she had missed her period. But now, Bernadette’s laughter was slowly turning into fear, and the rise and fall of her chest signaled panic.
Dr. Vu pulled up a seat beside the exam table and reached for Bernadette’s hand. “Ms. Gibson, I can see that this is a shock. Take deep breaths, inhaling through your nose and exhaling through your mouth.”
Bernadette did as her doctor had instructed, and after a few minutes and two cups of water, her breathing returned to normal. “I can’t believe this,” she told Dr. Vu. “I’m fifty years old. I’m supposed to be going through menopause, not pregnancy.”
Dr. Vu smiled. “It’s not unheard of for women in their fifties to conceive.”
“No wonder I’m so tired.”
“I can prescribe some prenatal vitamins, and because of your age, I’d like to refer you to one of my colleagues who specializes in high-risk pregnancies.”
That afternoon Bernadette had gone home, crawled into bed, and tried to wrap her brain around the fact that there was a baby growing inside her. Not in her wildest, most outrageous dreams did she think that she’d be pregnant at fifty years old, and according to Dr. Vu’s estimate, Bernadette was due March of next year, which meant she’d be fifty-one years old when her baby was born. She’d been experiencing highs and lows ever since. And just as she’d given Arizona advice less than two weeks ago—only a day after finding out she was pregnant—she’d started making her prayers specific.
Bernadette had asked God to show her the way and remove things she didn’t need from her life in order to make room for what He had in store for her. She’d given up all hope of ever finding love, and her dream of having children had been left in the dust a long time ago. But now she was involved with a wonderful man who loved her, and that morning he’d told her that she better get ready because their wedding was going to be next, and knowing Coop the way she did, she knew that a ring and a proposal were soon to follow. And if that blessing wasn’t enough, the fact that she was now pregnant was nothing short of a miracle.
Bernadette felt both excited and nervous at the possibility of having a child. She was excited because she’d always wanted to be a mother, but that was when she’d been younger. She was much older now, and she was nervous because of all the complications that could go wrong simply because she was a “mature mother,” which labeled her a high-risk pregnancy requiring specialist upon specialist. Then she hadn’t even broached the fact that she was sure that Coop had no interest in dealing with dirty diapers and sippy cups at fifty-two. He’d repeatedly told her that now that they were together, he was going to stop filling up his time with work and start enjoying life, traveling and exploring the world with her.
Then there was a part of Bernadette that ached for Tess. Her cousin was struggling with the fact that she desperately wanted to have a child, and here she was, not even thinking about getting pregnant, yet she was in her first trimester.
Bernadette’s mind was brought into the here and now when the soft wedding prelude music stopped and the church fell into complete silence. Bernadette immediately looked in Tess’s direction. Her cousin was staring into her eyes with fright. Bernadette looked down at her phone.
TESS: OMG, Do you know if Arizona is even here?
BERNADETTE: No, but I hope she is.
TESS: Why did the music stop? Are they getting ready to call it off?
BERNADETTE: How the hell do I know!
Bernadette’s nerves had been on edge before, and now they had taken a leap off a cliff. A long pause that seemed to last an hour was broken when a soloist walked to the front of the church and started to sing. The doors to the sanctuary opened and the minister, Chris, and his best man walked down the aisle.
ARIZONA
Arizona was nervously waiting in the designated bridal area trying to calm her nerves before it was time for her to walk down the aisle. She’d been anxious for the last two weeks, and her stomach had been in knots as she’d tried to figure out whether she should marry Chris or call the whole thing off. She’d agonized so much that she could barely eat or sleep, and over the last four months she’d lost a whopping fifty pounds, which ironically was the reason why she’d been late getting to the church. She’d needed to get her dress taken in another inch, and the seamstress hadn’t delivered the dress until twenty minutes ago.
But even if she had to walk down the aisle in a pair of jeans, Arizona had made up her mind that she was going to marry Chris. After sleepless nights, endless days, an
d lots of prayer, her decision became as clear as crystal late last night. She dreamed that when she’d woken up, Chris was nowhere to be found. He’d disappeared and no one knew where he was. In her dream, she’d been alarmed, not because he was missing and might have met with foul play or some other type of catastrophe. She was upset because the thought of living one day without Chris literally made her wake up in a soaking sweat. At that moment, she knew that she was going to marry him.
“Alright, Arizona. It’s your time to shine,” Brittany told her as she led Arizona to the doors of the vestibule.
When Arizona walked down the aisle arm in arm with her father, she caught a glimpse of Bernadette and then Tess, who both looked worried and relieved, but most of all happy. Then she looked at Chris, standing at the altar with tears in his eyes, ready to love her with his whole heart. By the time she reached the altar, Arizona’s face was streaming with happy tears as well, and so was nearly everyone’s in the entire church. Even her pastor became choked up as Arizona and Chris exchanged traditional vows and then spoke their own personalized vows that outlined their love, commitment, and promise to each other before God and their family and friends.
“I do,” Chris said with a smile.
“I do, too,” Arizona said with a happy grin.
The minister pronounced them husband and wife. Chris kissed his new bride, and the entire congregation cheered as the new Mr. and Mrs. Pendleton turned and faced the audience, hand in hand.
One of the ushers walked from the side and placed a broom in front of Chris and Arizona as the minister spoke.
“Chris and Arizona will pay homage to the ancestors by jumping the broom.”
“Amen,” the church called out in chorus.
The minister continued. “Jumping the broom can be traced back to the Asante people in what is now known as Ghana, West Africa. This rich cultural practice became the only symbol of African slave couples’ unions in America.
“As Chris and Arizona prepare to jump the broom, they will leap together into a new life and into their creation of a new family by symbolically sweeping away their former single lives, former problems and concerns, and they will begin a new adventure as husband and wife.
“Now, church, join me in saying ‘Harambee!’”
“Harambee!” the congregation called out, in the Kenyan tradition of celebration.
As Arizona walked back up the aisle as a married woman, she, Bernadette, and Tess all thought about the minister’s words. They each hoped that the days and months ahead would usher in new beginnings and sweep away the problems of their pasts.
The Other Side Page 27
