Wrath

by Victoria Christopher Murray

  Before I could ask any questions, Chastity kissed my cheek. “I’ll be right back, babe.” Then she and Melanie shot up the stairs, giggling like they’d been doing since before church began.

  I was confused and turned to Mrs. Jeffries.

  She gestured for my coat. “Those two, whenever they’re here, they spend the first fifteen minutes upstairs in Chastity’s bedroom, reminiscing.” She beckoned me to follow her, and as I passed through the living room, I realized I’d never seen my wife’s old bedroom or any part of her childhood home except for this first floor. There was so much for us to learn about each other.

  Those thoughts were wiped away, though, when I stepped into that gourmet kitchen. The aromas of macaroni and cheese, collard greens, fried chicken—and, wait, was that a hint of catfish?—assaulted me. “Wow!”

  She laughed. “Don’t be impressed. Remember I told you about my friend?” She grabbed an apron from a hook on the wall. “Melba delivers every Sunday morning, so all I have to do is this.” She folded back the foil from the macaroni and cheese and reached for a bowl.

  “Do you want me to help, Mrs. Jeffries? Though, honestly, I’m not really good in the kitchen.”

  She chuckled. “No, thanks,” she said, as she began opening cabinets. “I just wanted to save you from your wife and her best friend.”

  My wife.

  “Take off your jacket. Get comfortable.” She lined bowls and pans on the center island. “This is your home now, son.”

  That word seemed so natural as she went about the business of putting the dinner together. I hung my jacket over the back of one of the kitchen chairs.

  “So,” Mrs. Jeffries began as I faced her. “Pastor told me you two talked.”

  Her words took me back to the sanctuary. “Yes, ma’am. We didn’t have much time, but I was grateful he reached out to me.”

  She held a pan in midair and glared at me, but the ends of her lips twitched into a smile that belied her eyes. “First, you called me ‘Mrs. Jeffries,’ and now ‘ma’am.’ That is not going to work.” She held up her hand before I could explain. “I know it’s that good Southern upbringing; that’s how I was raised. But now that I’m ma’am age, I prefer young people with a little more of a northern edge.”

  I laughed. “Yes, ma—” We both laughed as I stopped myself.

  “What’s so funny?”

  I stiffened when Pastor Jeffries entered through a side door that led right to the kitchen. Mrs. Jeffries was still chuckling when Pastor Jeffries kissed his wife, then loosened his tie. “You know I hate it when you don’t wait for me at church.” Turning to me, he added, “I don’t like to do anything without my wife, not even ride home.”

  She giggled, and though he laughed with her, I knew he meant what he’d said. He reached his hand to me, and I searched his eyes. But there was nothing except warmth as I accepted his handshake. “It’s good to see you, son.”

  If Mrs. Jeffries stopped me from speaking with the use of that word, Pastor Jeffries was about to take me out. Had I just imagined that death stare from the altar?

  And then… he said, “Come with me up to my office so we can talk before we sit down to dinner.”

  She gave her husband a long side glance. “Don’t be up there too long. All I have to do is heat up these dishes.”

  He kissed her again, then guided me to another hallway, which led to another set of stairs.

  As I followed him, I reminded myself that this was Chastity’s father. I couldn’t get into another confrontation with him.

  When I stepped over the threshold of his office, I knew whoever had decorated his church office had probably been the designer here, as well. From the desk to the bookcases and the rug covering the parquet floor, the black-and-burgundy decor was very masculine, very traditional. I was drawn to the two cherrywood gun cabinets with backlights that showcased about a dozen firearms.

  Before I could take a detour to check them out, Pastor Jeffries gestured for me to have a seat in one of the chairs across from the love seat. As he sat, he said, “I’ve been wanting to talk to you from the moment I walked out of Chastity’s apartment Tuesday night.” He jerked off his tie. “I’m sorry for the way I reacted. I was shocked, but that’s no excuse.”

  I exhaled with relief. Now I knew for sure, I’d just imagined his stare. “I appreciate you saying that, sir. Your apology means a lot because I really love your daughter.”

  He nodded. “I can see that.”

  “And I will take care of her all the time, in every way.”

  “That’s all I can ask,” Pastor Jeffries said. “That you will love and honor Chastity.” He paused, but I knew more was coming, and I braced myself on the edge of the chair, waiting for the conversation to go left. Squeezing my hands into a fist, I breathed in air and held it.

  He began, “You know, from the moment I saw Sisley Darbonne, I knew I loved her.”

  I squinted at his words; he’d taken a right turn instead.

  He continued, “She was young, but she was brilliant and feisty, and I don’t have to mention that she was gorgeous. But although I loved her, once we were married, I didn’t always honor her. And while I’ve given up the guilt, I live with the regret.

  “I do thank God for my Damascus experience. I knew if I didn’t have a complete change in my life, my wife and daughter would be gone.” He shook his head. “If it wasn’t for the saving grace of God”—he held up his hand—“I have no idea where I’d be, but I know I wouldn’t be here.”

  I nodded, not quite sure of what I should say.

  “I’m telling you this because I want you to know the blessings that come from honoring a covenant God has ordained.”

  “Well, I’m looking forward to those blessings,” I said.

  When he smiled, I relaxed my fingers, loosened my shoulders. Settled into the chair and the conversation. Until his words sent me to the edge again.

  “You asked me something the other day, and I’d like to address that. About the reception and me performing the ceremony.” A pause. “I would very much like to do that. Thank you for giving me that opportunity.”

  I wanted to pump my fist in the air. This was the real relief I needed. Now Chastity and I would be legally married. I’d have to figure out the paperwork, but I wasn’t concerned—I’d come this far; I’d come up with something. “Thank you, Pastor Jeffries. You don’t know what this means to me.”

  He chuckled. “That’s what Chastity said.”

  “I keep saying we’re connected.”

  With a nod, he said, “Indeed.” But then he peered at me, and his stare and his silence made me stiffen again. The intensity in his eyes was just like what I saw an hour ago. He was studying me, and I tried my best not to writhe beneath the heat of his glare, but it was hard not to prepare for the punch.

  “You haven’t had many male role models in your life, have you?”

  Again, he’d taken a different turn than I expected. “No, sir.”

  He heard my caution, because he held up his hand. “That’s not a judgment, son. You’ve done well with what you were given. But you need to know you have someone now. While you have a responsibility to my daughter, I have a responsibility to you as your father-in-law, and as your pastor. As your father-in-law, I want to be that man you come to when you need to talk about anything. And as your pastor, I want to be that spiritual leader you come to about everything.”

  I had to pause, swallow, and blink back all the feelings that welled up in me. “I don’t even know what to say,” I whispered. “No one…” I stopped, but I didn’t need to finish, because Pastor Jeffries nodded.

  “I know,” he said. “Just know that I’m here. Now, our talks won’t always be easy, especially the spiritual ones, because my job is to help you get straight with the Lord. But our talks will always be truthful and always done in love.”

  In love. His words lifted me to a place I’d never been. I’d never felt this—acceptance, complete inclusion. Before I could spea
k, I was saved by a voice that came through speakers I couldn’t even see.

  “Pastor, you and Xavier come on down. I’m going to call the girls, too.”

  He glanced at me with a grin. “We’ve been summoned.”

  We chuckled together and I said, “Pastor”—he smiled—“thank you. No one has ever accepted me this way.”

  I reached for his hand, but this time when he took it, he pulled me into an embrace and patted my back, though it felt like he was punching me. I guessed not everything had changed. He was still letting me know he was Chastity’s father and was willing to drag me if it ever came to that.

  We moved toward the door together, but before we crossed the threshold, the pastor paused.

  “Speaking of saving grace,” he began, taking us back to the beginning of the conversation, “one of my saving graces after we were married was that Sisley’s father didn’t get in his car and bring a couple of his double-barreled shotguns with him to have a little talk with me. He didn’t live close enough, since her parents were still in Savannah.” He paused. “That was my saving grace,” he said before he stepped out of the room.

  I stood there for a moment, shocked. But then I chuckled as I followed him. The threat had been given, the message received, and I had nothing to worry about. I’d waited so long to be married to a woman like Chastity. There was nothing I would do to mess this up.

  36 Chastity

  It felt like old times, but everything was new. It was old the way we sat around the dinner table and ate that good food until we were stuffed. It was old the way we chatted and laughed and solved all the problems of the world.

  But it was new because I sat next to my husband. And my parents and Melanie played a silly game where, whenever they clanged their silverware against the glasses, Xavier and I had to kiss—which we didn’t mind at all.

  The whole day I’d been swaddled in love, which had seemed impossible just days before. But now my parents called Xavier son, and when we left, he hugged them like he hoped to one day really love them.

  The memories made me sigh when we slid into the back of Kelvin (who’d joined us in time for the sweet potato crumb cake) and Melanie’s SUV and I snuggled into my husband’s arms. Who would have thought this was where we’d be five days ago? On Tuesday, I’d thought I’d be a seventy-hour bride, but Xavier had not only told me, he’d shown me his apology, and with the grace I’d learned from my mother, I’d forgiven him. After Tuesday, we’d lived five days of euphoria. This wouldn’t last—it couldn’t—but this was our foundation; we’d build our marriage on this time.

  The four of us chatted like longtime friends on the ride to this wine bar Melanie had been raving about. Less than forty minutes after we left Harlem, Kelvin slowed his SUV onto Eighth Street in the Village.

  He eased the truck to a stop in front of the valet stand, and after we slid out of the car, Melanie and I held our husbands’ hands as we strolled toward the red-framed glass door. Melanie and Kelvin stepped inside first, and just as we were about to follow, a couple pushed their way out.

  Xavier and I stepped aside, and I smiled at the guy, who strutted with his arm draped around his girl, but then the two of them paused.

  “What’s up, X-Man?” The guy reached for Xavier and pulled him into a hug.

  By the time the woman squealed and hugged Xavier, too, I kinda had an idea of who these two were—at least the guy.

  “Oh my goodness.” I pressed my hand against my chest. “Are you Bryce?” Before he even responded, I said, “I’m Chastity.”

  His smile was broad and bright. “What’s up, sis?” He wrapped his arms around me. “It’s about time we met.”

  “I know. It’s crazy”—I pulled back from his hug—“that after all this time, I’m just meeting my husband’s best friend.” When Bryce’s eyes widened, I realized Xavier hadn’t told him, just like I hadn’t told Melanie. I said, “Oh my goodness, you didn’t know we got married.”

  Bryce shook his head, then stood like a zombie. But while he was catatonic, the woman with him clapped.

  “This is insane. I’m Samantha, by the way. Congratulations. Can I see your ring?”

  With pride, I held up my hand as Samantha oohed and aahed over the diamond, which sparkled even under the night sky.

  Finally, Bryce found his voice. “Hey, let me have a look at that.” He held my fingertips and peered at the ring as if he were a gemologist. He studied it so hard, it made me wonder if he was considering making that move with Samantha.

  “That’s really nice.” He glanced at Xavier. “Well, all I can say is congratulations.”

  “Thank you.” I hooked my arm through Xavier’s.

  “So you got married,” Bryce repeated, his unbelief in his tone. His expression was just like Melanie’s this morning. Then he said, “That was fast.”

  I chuckled. “Everyone says that, but even my parents have come around. Especially now that they’ve seen how happy we are.”

  “Awww,” Samantha sang. “I think it’s the most romantic thing ever. There’re lots of stories of people who get married after knowing each other for just a weekend.” Turning to Xavier, she said, “I’m glad for you, Xavier. I was so worried after Rox—”

  Xavier spoke over her. “I’ll check you later, Bryce,” he said before he shoved me inside the bar, without even a chance to say good-bye.

  I stumbled across the threshold. “Hold up, Xavier.” He held my arm to steady me. “What was that about?”

  “What?” he asked as if he always pushed me through doors.

  “You just pushed me and walked away when Samantha was in midsentence.” I was more confused than anything else.

  “Bryce told her about my story,” he snapped. “And I didn’t want to hear how happy she is because of all I’d been through.” He shook his head like he was annoyed, and now I just wanted to bring him back to where he’d been ten seconds before.

  “Ah, come on. She’s just happy for you, babe.” With my kiss, I relaxed him. “Let’s enjoy the rest of the night.”

  His smile told me he agreed, and with a quick scan of the bar, Xavier spotted Kelvin and Melanie. By the time we sat down, both of us were back to that happy place.

  I was beginning to understand my man, knowing what I had to do to keep his anger in check. That was a good thing, I knew. It was all part of my purpose.

  37 Xavier

  I yawned as I pushed through the revolving doors leading into my office building. But instead of walking toward the elevator bank, I detoured to the right and sat on the edge of one of the decorative planters. Pulling out my cell, I pressed my fist against another yawn. This was going to be a long day, after a short night.

  We’d gotten back to my condo early enough, and after two glasses of wine, I was in a mellow zone. But once I laid my head on the pillow, my mind never released me to rest. Even as Chastity slept beside me, a cacophony of voices echoed in my head:

  But when God talks about wrath, He talks about the suffering that will come from the punishment of being a wrathful man.

  Then there was Bryce: You have some deep issues… do something about all of this rage… before it’s too late.

  What had surprised me most, though, was hearing Roxanne: What’s inside of you, Xavier, that’s not anger. It’s not even rage… it’s worse.

  I hadn’t thought about her in weeks, certainly not since I’d given my heart to Chastity. But in the middle of last night, Roxanne had stayed, along with the others—their words, their tones, all rebukes.

  They were wrong, though. I wasn’t an angry black man. I was a black man in an angry world.

  Glancing at my cell, I hesitated before I awakened the screen. After I tapped the name and held the phone to my ear, I wasn’t surprised when my call was answered on the first ring.

  Bryce said, “I was waiting to hear from you, fam.”

  It wasn’t only those voices that had kept me awake. Seeing Bryce and Samantha had rocked me. I hadn’t put much thought into w
hat I was going to tell him; I figured I’d wait a few weeks, if not a month, and by then, I’d have time as proof that Chastity and I were good.

  But by coincidence, I’d been outed, so now I had to face him. As New Yorkers rushed past to get to their nine-to-five desks, I said, “What’s up, black man?” as if this were going to be the most casual conversation we’d ever had.

  “Really?” Bryce said, not impressed. “This is how you’re going to handle it?”

  I sighed. “Okay, I got married.”

  “Uh, yeah. And I saw you, like, twelve days ago. Were you already married when we met up at Sweat Box?”

  “Nah, we got married last week, over the Columbus Day weekend,” I said leaving out the New Orleans part.

  “And you didn’t think you should hit a brother up?”

  “Come on, Bryce,” I said, then lowered my voice. “Call you and say what? I knew how you’d react.”

  “You don’t know jack!”

  “Apparently, I do; just listen to you. Instead of wishing me well, you’re in attack mode.”

  With a sigh, he backed up. “You’re right. ‘Congratulations again’ is where I should have started. Especially since Chastity seems like she’s not only great but in the two minutes that I talked to her, she seemed happy.”

  There was so much surprise in his tone that I said, “She is happy, bruh. We both are. We made this decision together.”

  After a moment of silence he said, “I just wanted this to be different for you than—”

  Before he began the litany of names, I jumped in, “Don’t go down the path of the past. Chastity is my wife. That already makes this different.”

  “You’re right.” He sighed, then started over. “I truly wish you the best. That’s all I’ve ever wanted; the best of everything for you. But, uh…”

  My fingers curled, preparing for Bryce to do what he often did: take me to that place.

  He said, “Couldn’t you buy her a new ring?” and laughed.