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Unforgiving

Page 15

by Patricia Haley


  After calling his mother, Joel waited in the emergency room for his wife to return from having a battery of tests performed. Worrying and praying simultaneously was counterproductive, and he despised being ineffective. He had to choose one or the other—prayer or worry—but not both. After a brief assessment, he opted to pray, as worrying had never produced the kind of results needed to solve any situation.

  About twenty minutes later Joel looked up at the doorway and saw Sherry walking in. He stood and welcomed the big hug she gave him.

  “I’m glad you called me,” she said, still holding on to him. She eventually let go.

  There was only one guest seat in the room, not counting the doctor’s stool. “Here, Mom. Have a seat,” Joel told her, moving out of the way.

  “No, you sit. I can stand. I’m too upset to sit. What have the doctors told you so far?”

  Joel swiped his hand across his forehead. “They haven’t told me anything yet. They took her to have some tests done. We should know something any minute.” Worry was clamoring to regain an equal footing with prayer and faith, but Joel wasn’t relenting. Prayer was all he had.

  Sherry pressed both palms against her face as tears began streaming down her cheeks, and then she burst into soft sobs.

  “Mom, please sit down,” Joel told her. “Don’t worry. Zarah is going to be okay. I don’t want you to be this worked up.”

  “I’m sorry.” She followed his suggestion and took the seat as the sobs continued. “This room takes me back twenty-nine years ago, when I was admitted for problems during my pregnancy.” Joel didn’t know what to say. “I know exactly how Zarah feels.” Her sobs were slightly louder.

  Joel wanted to comfort his mother, but how could he dissolve a deep-seated sorrow, one that had resided in her heart for three decades?

  “I’m praying for both Zarah and the baby,” Joel said.

  “Your father did the same thing. I remember him going to the chapel and praying for the baby.”

  “That sounds like my father.”

  “But what good was it?” she blurted out, with a tinge of what sounded like contempt. “My baby died, anyway. So forgive me if I don’t join you in prayer.” She patted her eyes with the moist tissue in her hand.

  “You don’t have to join me, but I have to pray. I don’t have another option. God has always answered my prayers when I’ve asked for the right thing.”

  Gloom hung over the emergency room. Joel ducked and dodged it. He was inclined to stay positive. At one point he ran to the chapel and was back in the room within ten minutes, eager for an update. He was hoping Zarah would have been back by now.

  “Did the doctor come in yet?” he asked Sherry.

  “No one has been here.”

  “I’ll be right back. I’m going to find the doctor or Zarah’s nurse. Somebody ought to tell us something.” Joel dashed into the hallway, looked for someone who could help, and found no one free. He slipped back into the room, deciding to leave worry on the other side of the threshold.

  “Did you find anyone?” Sherry asked.

  “Everybody was running around with other patients.”

  A few minutes later Zarah’s gurney was wheeled into the small room. She appeared to be asleep.

  “How did the tests go?” Joel asked the nurse at Zarah’s side.

  “The doctor is on her way to see you,” the nurse replied. She wouldn’t make eye contact with Joel, which made him nervous. Worry hadn’t fully entered, but it had one toe in the room. Joel clung to his faith, hoping for a miracle.

  “What can you tell me while we’re waiting?” he asked.

  The nurse hooked the IV bag in place and stuck to her original answer. “The doctor is on her way.”

  Joel was forced to wait for answers, but he wasn’t happy about it. As promised, a petite black woman entered the room shortly after the nurse left.

  “I’m Dr. Bernice Green,” she said.

  “Are Zarah and the baby going to be all right?” Joel asked.

  “I’m sorry, but the privacy rules won’t allow me to discuss Mrs. Mitchell’s condition publicly,” Dr. Green replied.

  “It’s okay to talk in front of my mother,” Joel assured her. “Please, tell me what’s going on with my wife.”

  The doctor hesitated and then leaned against the counter. “I don’t have good news.”

  Joel stiffened. Sherry gasped.

  “We made every effort to stop your wife’s premature labor, but she began bleeding. We couldn’t stop the bleeding, and as a result, the pregnancy terminated.”

  “What are you saying?” Joel asked.

  “She lost the baby?” Sherry cried.

  “Yes, and I am sorry for your loss, Mr. Mitchell. We gave your wife a light sedative to help her rest.”

  Joel was too stunned to reply.

  “Your wife is young and appears to be in good health. You can try again right away,” Dr. Green told him.

  Joel thanked the doctor and watched as she left the room. He let his head hang low, like his spirit.

  Sherry was balling, Zarah was asleep, and he was lost.

  “I told you that praying is foolishness. All it does is get your hopes up and then lets you down,” Sherry told him.

  Joel wasn’t falling into that trap. God was the same when He answered a prayer and when it appeared that He hadn’t. Let His will be done, Joel thought. He didn’t expect his mother to understand and didn’t attempt to preach at her in their moment of grief.

  “I’ll be back,” Joel told his mother.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To get some air. If Zarah wakes before I return, please let her know I stepped out for a few minutes and will be right back.”

  Sherry nodded.

  Joel was crushed. He was suffering more than he had expected he would. This was his baby, true enough, but he couldn’t help but to go back to the beginning. Initially, Zarah’s revelation about the pregnancy had been a dagger in his independence. Several months ago he would have been thrilled about the baby vanishing and granting him his freedom. The issue about how to reconcile his and Zarah’s religious differences would have been instantly solved.

  Now that the baby was gone, he had to rethink his decision to stay with Zarah. Was it as simple as saying, “No baby - no marriage”? Perhaps it was. Before Zarah became pregnant, he’d wanted either to fix their marital issues or leave the marriage. But while she was carrying the baby, he didn’t see a way forward that entailed leaving his child behind. Now there wasn’t a child, and he was free.

  Joel hesitated before celebrating. He wasn’t getting off that easily. Losing a child was tragic, and he had to swallow the agony of it. His thoughts came in rapid succession as guilt tried latching onto him. Perhaps the pressure Zarah had endured, when he tried pushing her away from Tamara, contributed to the miscarriage. Joel wasn’t clear on why the miscarriage happened, and he didn’t have a yearning to question God for answers. He’d prayed and asked for His healing touch to cover Zarah and the baby. What more could he have done? If God wasn’t going to save the baby, no one on earth could, either. He had to accept God’s will.

  Joel roamed the hallways until he landed in front of the double doors leading outside. He went out and stood in the open space. Serving God was simple. Accepting His will was hard for Joel, especially when it conflicted with his desires. Joel was aggrieved and longed to speak with someone who could help calm his raging soul. He didn’t hesitate to call Don. He needed a family member, a big brother with whom to share his moment of grief. He knew that Don loved the Lord, and despite their challenges, he was certain that his brother would set aside his pride and provide encouragement. It was the only thing Joel wanted at that moment.

  Chapter 32

  Don had fallen asleep on the couch in his living room, with a pile of DMI documents to his left and a smaller stack of papers related to his company, LTI, to his right. He was sandwiched between the two and couldn’t wait for the day when he would be able to
focus on one challenge at a time. The ringing phone startled him, and it took Don a few seconds to react and take the call. He wasn’t expecting to hear from Joel.

  “I’m sorry to call you this late,” Joel said.

  “What time is it?” Don asked, searching the room for a clock.

  “Close to ten o’clock.”

  It was later than Don thought, but not too late for someone to be calling. “What can I do for you?” he asked, figuring Joel wanted to talk about the CEO post. Don wasn’t really up to it. They’d talked plenty over the past few weeks. “I’m a little tired.”

  “I’m sorry to bother you, but there isn’t anyone else I can call. We’re at Henry Ford Hospital. Zarah lost the baby.”

  “Say what?” Don sat up and plopped his feet on the floor, sending folders and papers flying.

  “She miscarried.”

  “Joel, man, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

  “I just wanted to call someone who would have a kind word for me. Honestly, I don’t know what I need.”

  “I might not know what to say, but I know what to do.” Don prayed aloud for Joel and Zarah.

  “That’s why I called you. You have a way of helping people put situations into perspective.”

  Don rubbed his head as humility covered him. “I can’t take credit.”

  “Well, I can honestly say that I felt led to call you. This is a bad situation, but I still believe God is with me.”

  “And He is.” There weren’t sufficient hours in a day for Don to share the countless times God had created a positive situation out of what had started as a negative one for him. “God doesn’t change just because we don’t get the outcome we want. You know that God is God regardless, and that means somehow or someway you and Zarah can get past this and come out stronger. Maybe not right away, but definitely in time.”

  “I hear you, and in my spirit I know you’re right. But I feel badly about what’s happened. I married Zarah and got her pregnant, knowing we weren’t spiritually yoked. She has her gods, and I have my God.”

  Don acknowledged silently that it wasn’t the best scenario for a successful marriage. But pointing out the obvious wasn’t useful for Joel, so Don didn’t. The least he could do was offer a listening ear to a man who seemed filled with despair.

  “When there’s a crisis in our home, we pray to different divine powers. What kind of sense does that make?” Joel remarked.

  “That’s tough,” was all Don said.

  “I don’t know. Maybe it’s best that the baby died, instead of coming here with a job to do. No child should be the glue holding his or her parents together. I’ve been there, and it’s no cakewalk.”

  Don continued to pray silently as Joel spoke and searched for meaningful encouragement. “I have no idea why your baby died, but God is able to comfort Zarah and to strengthen you. That much I do know.”

  “Yep, your right. I’m just feeling sorry for myself. Seems like when one thing goes well for me, three things fall apart.”

  “I’m sure that’s not quite true.”

  “Maybe not, but I sure miss the days of living under God’s favor and anointing. The world was a different place for me then. I had the confidence to walk on water. I knew God was with me. It gave me tremendous confidence. When people saw me as arrogant, I saw it as being confident in God’s ability to let me do what He created me to do. Nothing bothered me.” Joel got quiet.

  “Are you there?” Don asked.

  “Yes, I am,” he said sighing. “I really messed up by leaving the Lord, and now I’m paying the price.”

  “But God doesn’t hold mistakes over your head. You know He’s a loving God. I don’t have to tell you this stuff. Even when we mess up big-time, He is quick to forgive us once we repent.”

  “I have repented and asked for forgiveness for everything.”

  “Then trust God to keep His word. He said that He’d never leave you or forsake you. Trust Him now. Remember when Adam sinned in the garden?”

  “Of course. They were kicked out of the garden and couldn’t fellowship directly with God anymore.”

  “Okay, but before they were kicked out of the garden, God clothed them. He made sure their needs were met even when they messed up. He is always a Father, always. That’s what you have to cling to now.”

  Joel took a deep breath as the sound resonated on the phone. “See? That’s why I called you. I had a feeling you’d get me on the right track. I’ve never said this, but I’m honored to be your brother. We’ve never been close, but one day maybe that can change.”

  “Maybe,” Don responded, feeling hopeful and intrigued.

  “I’ve been gone long enough. Zarah might be awake, and I need to be with her. Please keep us in your prayers.”

  “Consider it done. Before you go, has Tamara gotten the news? I know she and Zarah are close,” Don said.

  “I haven’t told her. We’re not exactly on speaking terms.”

  When would it end? Don lamented, thinking about his family’s inability to cast petty matters to the side and rally together during times of adversity. How long did they think God was going to keep him in Detroit to maintain the peace?

  “Joel, take care and call me if you need anything.”

  “I will, and thanks.”

  Don meditated and prayed for a solid thirty minutes after hanging up. He wasn’t thrilled about calling Tamara. He believed she’d want to know about her friend, but he was concerned that his sister would run to the hospital and have a confrontation with Joel. She tended to operate on passion instead of logic. Nobody needed the drama, especially Zarah. Don contemplated calling Tamara for quite a while. Finally, he dialed the phone. Tamara was an adult, and he aimed to treat her as such.

  “Why are you calling me so late? What’s going on?” Tamara grumbled.

  “I thought you’d want to know that Zarah had a miscarriage. She lost the baby.”

  “Oh, no!” she bellowed. “That’s awful! Where is she?”

  “At Henry Ford, but you might want to consider holding off on a visit. This is a tough time for Joel and Zarah. It might be better for you to stay away for a day or two, until they can deal with this on their terms.”

  “You don’t have to sugarcoat it. Joel and I don’t get along, and my being there might be a problem.”

  “Precisely—”

  “I get it,” she said. “You’re probably right. I’m not happy about it, but I understand.”

  “Good. I’m sure Zarah will be glad to see you in a few days. She’ll need a lot of support.”

  “You know, she was selling me the West Coast division. A few hours ago there wasn’t anything more important to me. Now, it seems lame to base my future on a corporate division when the only friend I have is suffering.”

  Don was pleased to hear Tamara express concern for someone. She had a ways to go before embracing the Mitchell family, but this was a great sign of her potential.

  “This changes everything. Honestly, I don’t know what to do or where to go from here. I have to regroup and figure this out,” she mused.

  “Don’t make any hasty decisions.”

  “I won’t,” she said.

  Tamara ended the call. Her decision to leave might be perceived by Don and Madeline as hasty, but in actuality the matter had been marinating for months. Maybe thoughts of leaving had been in the recesses of her mind since the instant she landed in Detroit. What had she done? Why had she come back? This was her birthplace and the town in which her family lived, but it wasn’t home for her any longer. Many of her pleasant childhood memories had been drowned by treacherous ones. There was only one entity nudging her to stay here, and that crippling tie to Zarah had to be severed.

  Tamara opened the closet doors in her tiny apartment and pulled out a suitcase. She could perform the packing routine in her sleep, having done it ten to fifteen times in fifteen years. Leaving Detroit wasn’t difficult. Saying goodbye to Zarah would be, and she was already experiencing the
hurt. Tamara didn’t fret. Next time she would be more careful and would keep away from relationships that caused her heartache. From the rape and her brother’s betrayal, she’d learned not to let people get too close. Tamara had broken her rule with Zarah and had to be reminded of why she couldn’t let it happen again. It hurt too much, and Tamara was intent on not hurting.

  Chapter 33

  Don called Madeline to share the news about Zarah and the baby. He wasn’t sure which was worse: Zarah losing the baby or Madeline losing her daughter. He was grateful that the sadness in the Mitchell family didn’t have to be ranked. There were generally too many front-runners to prioritize one over the other.

  “Mother, I just got off the phone with Joel.”

  “I know he’s upset about my withdrawing the offer of support, but I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t let Tamara run away mad. She wouldn’t come back next time. I’m sorry he bugged you with this.”

  “Actually, he called about Zarah. She lost the baby.”

  “Oh no. That’s awful.” Madeline exclaimed. “Poor Joel. I think he’s really trying to get back on track. Seems like he can’t catch a break, but most of this he brought on himself. All that nonsense about expanding into international territory with no regard for the damage he was doing to DMI and the Mitchell name. His junk might finally be catching up to him. Maybe God is punishing him.”

  “Whoa. Be careful what you say. We have quite a few problems of our own in progress. God must be punishing us too.”

  “Wait a minute. I’m not trying to get you worked up, preacher man. I’m just saying Joel hasn’t done himself any favors by marrying into a different religion and dragging our company with him. I wanted to help him out, but nobody can save Joel if God is dealing with him.”

  Compassion kicked in. Don wasn’t willing to dissect Joel’s woes and sit in a position of judgment. Each family member, including his mother, had committed his or her share of mistakes. Joel wasn’t alone. His challenges just happened to be more public.

 

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